I smirk back.
“Aw, ain’t that sweet?” Wilder drawls. “Now, ’bout these evil fuckers in the mountains.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
ALENA
“Finish your eggs.You need the protein.” Dad points his fork at my plate. “And don’t forget your banana. Potassium’s good for you.”
He made me breakfast, but he’s about to make me mad.
“Dad…” Calmly, I set my fork down. “I’m a grown woman. I eat what I want. If I want to snort powdered sugar off a donut, I can, and I will.”
Nadine grins at my dad, her espresso cup poised for a sip with her pinky up. “Can’t raise ’em to be smart, then get mad when they use it against you.”
She sips, Dad sucks his teeth, and I reach for his hand. “I love you, and thank you. I know I’ll always be a little girl in your heart, but in your head, get over it. I’m twenty-six.”
“I’ll always be your father.” His brown eyes glisten. “I love you and will always protect you. Get over it.”
My dad is a potent mix of fatherly love and ferocious protection. If he weren’t a forensic accountant, I swear, he could side-hustle as an assassin. Under his starched white shirt, he hides a body of ink, shredded muscles, and a criminal past.
It’s how he met Nadine.
Nadine’s son, Sire Rutledge, was my dad’s cellmate in juvie. They became best friends, so when Nadine found out that my mom was about to lose custody of me. That she couldn’t make ends meet as a teen mom because my dad was locked up, Nadine stepped in.
She rented an apartment to my mom for fifty dollars a month and babysat me when my mom was at work. My mom was like Nadine’s daughter until she lost her too.
Then my dad became like Nadine’s son, and here we are.
A found family fighting over scrambled eggs.
“If you won’t eat your breakfast forme”—Dad leans back—“do it for your job. It’s dangerous, Alena. You told me it was just a flash flood in the park the other day, but I checked. The news said there was a swift water rescue. That some heroic ranger swam across rapids to save a naked woman. Know anything about it?”
My shoulders softly shrug. “It’s my job. I’m not a hero.”
“Darlin’…” Nadine sets her cup down. “While some men are all hat and no cattle, you rode in on a white horse, wearing a white hat, and swam across a raging river to save a woman. You’re a hero. Clearly, you’re okay, but is she?”
“I hope so.” I sigh.
Dad sips his cup, muttering, “Did they catch the men who had her?”
I pull back. “How did you know some men had her?”
He takes another sip before answering, “She was a naked woman stuck on the rocks in a flash flood, not a hippie sunning herself for the solstice. Clearly, she was running from someone.”
“I hear rumors at the club.” Nadine’s eyebrows knit. “These evil men are everywhere. The beach. The mountains. The capital and country corners. They’re trafficking women,and I’ve got a right mind to show them the business end of my pistol.”
Nadine would.
She raises money for women’s shelters. Donates to their political campaigns. Marches for our cause. She won’t shut up and sit down for anyone. She won’t even let them shame her for her sex club.
While I squirm, just thinking about last night.
What’s worse?
That my kinky night with Loch got cut short? That it was by my dad, who was in a sex club with my pastor and my godfather? That my godfather is secretly my first pity fuck? Or that it’s my pseudo-grandmother’s club, and I had to run home in shame from it, like a teenager, almost busted by her dad with her dress unbuttoned?
Loch was sweet.
