Page 122 of Deacon

Matty dragged both hands through his hair. “Jesus Christ, Li. You think this is best for her? For Jade? For you?”

“What’s best for Jade,” Lila shot back, “is that she gets to know her father instead of living with a hole in her life because the men around her can’t get their heads out of their asses.” She didn’t look at me while she said it, but the defense landed deep anyway.

Matty’s anger had nowhere useful to go, so he aimed it at the fear none of us could pretend wasn’t there. “And what happens when he leaves again?”

I answered before Lila had to. “He ain’t leavin’ again,” I said.

Matty laughed, sharp and ugly. “You don’t get to say that now like it fixes anything.”

The apartment door opened before I could answer.

Jade stood there with her backpack on one shoulder and keys in one hand, already narrowed-eyed enough to tell me she had heard the argument from the hall. She looked straight at Matty.

Then, dry as anything, said, “Really? Here to control somebody else’s life instead of living your own?”

Matty turned on her too fast, all that anger moving before sense could catch it. “He’s only been in your life a short while and he’s already teaching you how to be an uncontrollable bitch.”

Jade sucked in a shocked breath. Lila went white, and whatever restraint I had left disappeared with the look on our daughter’s face.

I moved. My fist caught Matty clean and dropped him hard enough to rattle the table. I was on him before he could recover, fury burning so hot it tasted metallic. “You do not talk to my daughter that way.”

I hauled him halfway upright by his shirt. “You’re the male influence she’s had all these years?” I bit out. “You got no room to say a damn thing talkin’ to a girl like that.”

Something changed in his face. Not the anger. The part beneath it that knew exactly what he had done.

“Shit,” he said, pulling back. “Shit. No. No, you’re right.” His eyes went to Jade, shame cutting through the rage. “Doodles, I’m sorry. You know I didn’t mean that. I was pissed and I took it out on you and I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry. I just—”

He broke off and looked back at me, years of hurt still sitting there. “You got my baby sister pregnant and then left her. You didn’t take care of her, man. You fucking left.”

My temper was still hot, but the pain in his face changed the shape of it.

“I had a reason,” I said, lower now. “A solid one. But I loved her. Love her. Always did. Always will.”

Matty stared at me as if he hadn’t expected the last part.

Then he shoved both hands through his hair and backed toward the door. “Fuck. I can’t do this.”

He was gone before anyone stopped him, the door slamming behind him.

I turned to Jade. The snark had vanished from her face, leaving her pale and shaken. I crossed the room and pulled her into my arms. She held herself stiff for one second, then folded against me, the tremor in her hands giving away more than her face had.

“Hey,” I murmured, rubbing a hand over her back. “It’s alright. Your uncle’s got a short fuse and a dumb mouth. He’ll get over it.”

She made a sound against my shirt that could have been a laugh or the edge of a cry. I tightened my hold. “It’ll be okay, baby girl.”

Over Jade’s head, I found Lila. The truth had been right there, one breath away, and now it sat between us again beneath Matty’s anger, my fist, and our daughter shaking in my arms.

Lila stood beside the couch with shock and exhaustion written all over her, but underneath both was the question I had almost answered. Just hearing that cops from her father’s department were involved had hollowed something out of her.

Finding out one of them was Richard Morgan was going to break her heart.

33

Lila

Something was still off with Jade. She kept her phone facedown on the table, answered too quickly when I asked if she had slept alright, and carried herself with the careful normalcy of somebody who didn’t want to be watched too closely.

I poured coffee into my travel mug while she sat at the kitchen table in black jeans and one of my old oversized band shirts, one boot hooked on the chair rung. Her backpack waited by the door and half her toast was gone. Everything looked ordinary. That was what bothered me.