I pulled back and rested my forehead against hers.
“I love you, too, Butterfly. Remember what I told you.”
She nodded, and I took her hand, leading her back into the living room.
Sam was sitting on the couch but got up as soon as she saw us.
“You okay, baby?” Bella gave her a little nod and glanced at her father.
“Finally! Get your coat on, Bella. We have to go.”
Marc threw Bella’s coat at Sam. I was still holding Bella’s hand but shook from the rage I was trying to hold in. After Sam helped Bella with her zipper, she gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. Marc took Bella’s hand and yanked her toward the door.
“You going to be all right, just you and Bella now that your parents are away?” Sam’s head jerked up with her eyes wide.
“Bella and I will be just fine, pretty boy. None of your concern.”
Sam moved to wrap her arms around her daughter one last time. As Bella left, she glanced back at me, and I nodded. If she called me, I would get right in the car and bring her home. Legal consequences be damned.
As the door shut behind them, Sam couldn’t hold her sobs in any longer. I hurried over to her, and she collapsed in my arms. I trailed kisses across Sam’s forehead and down her tearstained cheeks. She threw her arms around my waist and cried into my chest.
I hated the thought of Marc taking care of Bella alone—given his track record of ignoring his daughter—and it had to be tearing Sam up. All I could do was hold her and say everything was fine when we both knew it was anything but.
Neither one of us could sleep. We spent the night on the couch watching TV. Sam was in my arms all night, while I clutched my phone in my hand.
After a long and sleepless night sick with worry over Bella alone with her father, Sam and I decided to go to the gym. That was always her way of therapy, and pretending a punching bag was Marc for an hour or two didn’t sound like a bad idea. She wanted to try a yoga class afterward to relax. After two hours of weights, cardio, and punching a hole in said punching bag, I told her I’d wait for her in the coffee shop across the street.
I bought an iced coffee and sat at a table in the back. I was sweaty now and sore all over but didn’t feel any better. I tried to think of excuses to check on Bella after Sam got out of class.
I noticed a stocky guy leaning over the counter by the barista, obviously flirting. The girl was giggling and touching the guy’s arm. From where I sat, she could have been no more than twenty. The man went to the refrigerator next to the register and took out what looked like a juice box.
No fucking way; that couldn’t be Marc.
Sure enough, Marc dropped the juice box in front of Bella, who was sitting at the table behind him with her head down. He had his back to his daughter the entire time. Anyone could have taken her and he wouldn’t have known until it was too late. I couldn’t tell if she was sleeping on the table. Knowing Marc, he’d dragged his daughter out of bed in an attempt to get into the barely legal barista’s pants.
Fuck this.
I got up and crept over to where she was sitting. Marc didn’t notice me approach, which infuriated me. No doubt he was a big jerk, but this kind of negligence even I didn’t expect.
“Hey, Butterfly!”
I tapped Bella’s shoulder, and she slowly lifted her head, like it was too heavy for her shoulders. She was flushed with a sweaty forehead, but she looked like she was shivering. It was a chilly morning, and all she had on was a windbreaker.
“Lucas, you came! I wanted to call you, but Daddy wouldn’t let me have his phone.” Her voice was raspy and soft.
The look of happiness and relief on her face broke my heart. The Hello Kitty paper with my number on it was crumpled in her hand.
“What’s wrong?” I pushed away the hair that was sticking to her forehead, and her head was burning up. She was sick, and yet, Marc brought her out in the cold anyway.
“Marc!” I yelled to him as he was whispering in the girl’s ear. He turned around laughing but rolled his eyes when he saw me.
“What do you want, pretty boy?” He turned to the barista with a sickening grin. “He can never stand anyone else talking to a pretty girl. Always has to get everyone’s sloppy seconds—”
“Your daughter is sick, you asshole. Did you notice she was burning up with a fever?”
Marc squinted his eyes at me and shook his head.
“She’s fine; she’s just like her mother and never wants to go anywhere.” He turned back to the barista, and I saw red. I stormed over to him and grabbed him by the shoulder.
