a girl like me could lose herself in and get her heart broken by. I don’t want heartache. I’d rather guard my heart and my panties. Because the way Holden keeps looking at me, I’d surely lose them fast with him.
The night moves quickly and Holden has turned his charm back on Bailey while Ezra has kept an easy conversation moving between us. As I suspected he is around two years older than me, where Holden is closer to five years older.
I don’t know why my eyes keep leaving Ezra and checking in on Bailey and this Holden guy, but every few minutes his steely gaze finds mine and he semi-smiles. By the end of the night however, Ezra is giving me a ride to the dorms and Bailey is walking down the street, following Holden home.
“We should hangout sometime, maybe you can step on my feet again,” he teases.
Wagging my finger in his face I say, “I warned you.”
“Yeah, you did.” He grabs my finger and leans toward me. “Would it be too forward if I kissed you right now.”
Blush creeps up my cheeks. I bet Bailey and Holden are doing a lot more than kissing. Not that I care or should care. “I’d be offended if you didn’t even try,” I tell him, trying to get my mind off Holden and what kissing him would be like.
Ezra’s kiss is soft and sweet. My mind instantly goes to those steely grey eyes that belong to Holden though, and I know Holden’s kiss would be anything but sweet.
Chapter 2
Conleigh
Present Day
I was seven years old the last time I hugged my father. I can still remember the way his goatee tickled my nose when he kissed my forehead as he promised he’d walk me to school the next morning. “I’ll see you in the morning, caterpillar. I love you.” He called me caterpillar, because he said one day I would blossom into a beautiful butterfly. When he’d take me on his weekends we’d always go to the butterfly garden. I always thought it was so magical.
His large fingers tugged on my dark hair as he smiled down at me. I looked up into his hazel eyes, getting lost in the flecks of green and gold. The My Little Pony nightgown I was wearing dragged on the floor, brushing against my purple carpet. It was a size too big, but I loved that spaghetti strapped gown because he gave it to me.
I clung to his belt loop with my small pointer finger curled around the worn denim. He pried my finger loose with a lopsided grin. I scowled, but then I smiled as he tickled my rib. “Daddy has to go.”
“I don’t want you to go. Please, Daddy, please stay, just a bit longer.” I pouted my bottom lip and held my breath.
My mom sighed from the doorway to my bedroom. I didn’t spare her a glance. I knew the exhausted expression she’d be wearing, it was the only one she wore when he came around. Her patience with my father had ran out when I was a baby. They were practically babies themselves when they had me. They were barely juniors in high school when I was born. With government assistance and help from my mom’s parents they graduated high school and were married briefly. My dad worked delivering pizzas, taking any job he could to support us, while my mom went to nursing school. They didn’t know what love was, even though they attempted to pretend at first, or so my mom has told me, the few times I have gotten any conversation out of her where my real dad is concerned. In her eyes, he’s been dead since the moment he received his sentence.
“Five more minutes,” he conceded, picking me up and putting me to bed. Kneeling on the floor next to my twin bed, he stroked his fingers across my forehead, forcing my eyes shut. “Go to bed, my sweet girl.”
My eyes fluttered as he continued to wave his hand over my eyes, whispering promises that were broken even before they left his lips. I can recall the low, heated whispers as my mom walked him to the door, then the slamming of that door jarring me from my near sleep.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Bailey questions as I shrug my red sweater over my head, exchanging it for my black cable knit one instead.
“Yeah, I promised, and, why wouldn’t I?”
She shrugs, her blonde hair falling behind her shoulder with the motion. Her baby blues soften as she semi-smiles. “I just worry about how this will affect you.”
“Okay, Mom.” I shake my head. I have been hounded to death by mother about this very topic for three months now. “I’m fine. It will be fine. It’s only one day.”
She snorts. “One day at a prison.” Her face scrunches and she rolls her eyes.
“Bails, I know you love me, but I am doing this for me. I need this. I need…I don’t know——closure.” I sit on the bed with my legs crisscrossed. Gathering my brown hair in my hands, I twist it into a bun and secure it with a hair-band.
“Okay, I’ll back off.” She holds her hands up, her lips twitching with unspoken words. “Does Ezra know you’re doing this though?”
Biting my bottom lip, I shake my head. “You know how he feels about my dad. It isn’t a fight worth having. Besides, he won’t be back from his trip until late. It will be over by then and I won’t even have to mention it to him.” I shrug it off, but deep down it does bother me that Ezra isn’t more supportive of my being in contact with my father. I suppose as my boyfriend it is in his nature to be overly protective of me, much like my mom is, but I need him to be on my side with this. This is my first real chance to sit down and spend the day with my dad. They call it A Walk with God. It’s an experimental program where inmates who have earned good behavior get one day where their children can come and spend the day with them. It’s mainly for smaller kids, but my dad was one of the few who qualified, only twenty of fifteen hundred as a matter of fact.
Bailey, my childhood best friend and former roommate sighs, but doesn’t press me. We were roommates our first two years of college and until I moved in with my boyfriend, Ezra. We’ve been friends long enough now that she knows when I decide on something, that’s it. I don’t go back. A lot of planning has gone into this day and my dad has worked hard to maintain his good behavior, so we can share this day.
Over the years, we have talked through letters and briefly over the phone, but I’ve never went for visitation, until today. My dad didn’t want me to see him locked up and my mom agreed that it wouldn’t be good for me. What changed my dad’s mind? I’m not sure. Maybe time. So much time has passed since I’ve seen his face in person or felt the warmth of his embrace, the calming feeling that a girl only gets from her dad. The peace that quiets any storm. At least that’s how I remember him making me feel…like he was a hero who would always protect me. That was all lost to me when I was seven though. One choice changed both our lives, forever.
Bailey stands at my closet, fingering through my wardrobe, deciding on an outfit to steal from me. She has work today, I do too, but I called and said I was sick. I wouldn’t miss a day with my dad for anything.
Leaning over the edge of my bed, I grab my boots from the floor and lace my them up over my skinny jeans.