King's Reign (Sydney Storm MC 6)

My heart beat furiously against my chest.

She was far too young for this.

Far too young.

Where did I go wrong?

I failed as a parent.

Failed with a capital F.

“Mum.”

I blinked and found her staring at me. “Zara,” I started, but my voice broke and no more words came.

“You were right about everything.”

I blinked again. “About what?”

“That I wasn’t ready for sex yet. And that Sam’s a shit. He’s been trying to get me to have sex for ages, and then he told me there was no point in us dating if I wasn’t going to do it with him. So I did it, and then when I told him I didn’t want to do it again just yet, he broke up with me. So yeah, you were right, and I wish I’d listened to you.”

“That little fucking shit. I’ll fucking go and tell him what I think of him myself.” God, if I could wring his neck, I would. How dare he treat my daughter that way?

She grinned. “I like this new you.”

“What new me?”

“This you that just says it like it is.”

“I’ve always said it like it is.”

“Not this much. I don’t know, you just seem easier about things, not as tense all the time. I mean, you could stop harassing me about studying more and stuff, but mostly you seem happier these days. I like it.”

I squeezed her hand before letting it go. “So you aren’t in a hurry to have sex again?”

“I don’t know. I guess it depends who I date next.”

Oh God, please strike all the boys down in her school. Take them all out. Hit them with lightning or some shit.

I took a deep breath. “Promise me something.”

She narrowed her eyes at me. “What?”

I reached out and pushed a stray hair off her face. My heart constricted at how beautiful she was. It was no wonder the boys were chasing her. I shuddered to think about the next few years. I would be fighting them off. No, King will be fighting them off for you. Remember he said he wouldn’t allow a daughter out on a date without his eyes on her. You can make him do that in exchange for sexual favours. “Promise me you’ll talk to me about it before you decide to have sex again.” When she pulled a face, I said, “I’m serious, Zara. We don’t need to discuss the physical stuff unless you want to, but I want you to talk to me about how you’re feeling in here”—I placed my hand to her heart—“because that’s mine to protect while you’re still growing and finding yourself. And I’ll be fucked if I’ll let any other little shit break it without me knowing to get the bandages out.”

Her breaths slowed as she took that in. Finally, she nodded and agreed. “Okay.” She then threw her arms around my neck and hugged me for the longest time. By the time she let me go, we were both crying. “I love you, Mum. But man, you swear a lot these days.”

I wiped my tears away and shrugged. “You’re nearly fifteen, and it’s the language you respond to.”

She grinned. “So I can start saying it in the house?”

“Let’s not get too excited. I don’t plan on saying it often. Just when I need to get my point across to you.”

“Trust me, Mum, you get your point across just fine.”

“Well, I would argue with that, because usually you’re arguing with me, not sitting on my bed talking to me.”

“Yeah,” she said softly, “but I’m always listening to you.”