Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76381 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76381 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
“She could call the cops on you,” Daphne said. “I could call the cops on you.”
“Kid, don’t fucking threaten me,” I said, shaking my head at her. “You’re about as intimidating as a gnat,” I said as Brooks moved into the kitchen, holding out my phone to me. “Thanks.”
“Need anything?” he asked, glancing at my arm. The wound was still bleeding halfheartedly, a little trickle that slid down my wrist and off of my hand.
“Not right now,” I said, sucking in a steadying breath as I swiped to my contacts.
I hesitated, not wanting to do this part, but knowing I had to.
“She’s at work,” Daphne said as the phone rang and rang. “She can’t answer.”
“Sabrina, this is Callow. Can you call me back at this number as soon as possible? It’s… important,” I said, looking at Daphne as she traced something on the surface of the table with her fingertip.
I heard the shuffle outside and glanced out to see the medics from Hailstorm had arrived.
Worst case, they’d take Perish up to Hailstorm where they had their own hospital ward equipped with just about anything that they could need to treat him.
My experience said he wasn’t going to need that, though. I’d seen more than a few gunshot wounds. He was likely going to be up and worrying about the fucking lawn in a day or two.
My phone started to vibrate in my hand, making me almost drop it before I brought it up, seeing Sabrina’s name, and swiping to answer.
“Is she there again?” she asked, whispering into the phone.
“Y…yes.”
“Why are you pausing? Is she okay? What’s going on?”
“She’s okay. But you need to come and pick her up.”
“I…”
“Fake being sick. We… need to talk.”
“Okay. Alright. Give me… twenty.”
“Don’t speed. She’s airtight. It’s just… complicated.”
“Okay,” she agreed, hanging up.
“Can I suggest something?” I said as I poured the coffee.
“What?” Daphne asked as I brought the coffee to her, then went to grab the cream and sugar.
“Start thinking of the ways you’re going to make this up to your mother,” I said. “You’ve been a real pain in her ass, in case no one has been straight enough to tell you that.”
“You don’t understand—“
“No, you’re right. I don’t. Got a mom busting her ass to try to give you a good life. And all you’re giving her is grief? I don’t get that shit.”
“She doesn’t let me do anything.”
“Pretty sure not letting you sneak into bars and hang out at biker clubhouses makes her a good mom, not a bad one.”
“She just doesn’t want me to have fun because she doesn’t have any either.”
Christ. I hoped to fuck I wasn’t so dramatic at her age.
“Maybe she’s just too tired from working all day and tracking your ass down to have any energy to have fun,” I suggested. “Ever think that if you went easier on her, she might go easier on you?”
“All she wants is for me to hang out with Allie.”
“What’s wrong with Allie?”
“She’s just… lame. All she wants to do is hang out at home and study. She’s boring.”
Sounded like the kind of kid I’d want my kid to hang with too. Though, yeah, I could see why Daphne was looking to branch out. I’d been looking for interesting new experiences at her age too. And, from the sounds of it, so had Sabrina. Until a pregnancy forced her to grow up quick.
“You know, the way I remember it, your mom was trying to give you a longer leash, let you earn back some trust. Only to have you ditch your friends and show up here.”
To that, Daphne had no comeback, knowing she’d been in the wrong.
“Cal,” Sully called. “Gird your loins. Pretty mama is on her way in.”
Here we go.
CHAPTER FIVE
Sabrina
It was a shitty work day after a shitty work week after a shitty work month.
I honestly didn’t know if my boss was riding my ass more than usual, or if I was just more sensitive to it because I was already so stressed out with Daphne.
She was stuck in the house again for the time being. But she still managed to give me a lot of grief and some new sorts of headaches.
I mean, two nights ago, I walked in to find her watching some… mildly adult of content on her laptop. Only to learn it was adult content being made by that new friend of hers. Who was, apparently, killing it with her porn subscription service.
Which left me in a fun new parental position where I had to try to remain sex (and sex-worker) positive, but also impress upon my impressionable daughter that A, she was too young to look at that stuff and B, that she herself was absolutely under no circumstances going to film any sort of content of herself.
The conversation devolved into her calling me a prude and shaming Tammy for ‘getting her bag.’