The Last Boss' Daughter

But it doesn’t.

After he finishes, he remains inside me, pressed against the wall for a couple of minutes with his head on my shoulder. I hold on tight, full of terror and frustration and something that feels alarmingly like love. I’ll call it fondness, that makes more sense. Fondness. Yeah.

Then he pulls out, and pulls back, and I can tell by the set of his features and his shoulders there’s no point fighting. He’s prepared for me to fight, his face a stoic mask, like he doesn’t care, but I don’t believe that anymore.

I don’t fight. I’m seasoned at hedging my bets, and I know I won’t win this one. I don’t want to stress him out even more, so I follow him out the door to the little footbridge over the creek. There’s a well of sadness inside me, and I’m pretty sure it’s going to burst open the moment he leaves.

But God, how I don’t want this to be the moment he leaves.

“There’s wood for the fire inside. I brought some in while you were asleep. Keep it going if you can, it gets cold out here.”

I feel cold, but it’s not because of the weather.

“I’ve been alone for too much of my life,” I tell him. “Don’t make me be alone again.”

“I promise I will do everything in my power to make sure you aren’t,” he tells me. “I’m a murderer, not a martyr; if I know I’m in too deep and I can’t win, I will cut my losses and come back and we’ll just run. I just don’t want to do that. The loose ends need to be cleaned up. Then we don’t have to run.”

That does nothing to cheer me up, and I continue to look like he just ran over my favorite pet.

“And hey, if I don’t come back, maybe you can tame Ryder,” he tells me, lightly.

A thunderous scowl and a smack in the belly later, he is aware I don’t find that funny.

“Nah, he’s a dog anyway,” he adds.

“I’m very stubborn, if you haven’t noticed. I’m not interested in any other scoundrel. I only want you.”

“I have noticed that,” he said with a nod. “It’s not always smart, you know.”

I cross my arms stubbornly.

He smiles, a little smile. We’re both too worried over what’s waiting for him for either of us to exude much joy.

“Will you call me when your shift is over, before you go to sleep, just so I know everything’s okay?” I ask him.

He hesitates, but eventually nods. “I’ll try.”

I don’t really want an “I’ll try” but I guess it will have to do. My formerly soaring heart is so heavy in my chest as he gives me one last kiss on the forehead and then makes his way across the foot bridge.

It’s dark, so he disappears from my sight only a moment later.

The lump in my throat is big and real, and all I want to do is cry. I want to sit down on the forest floor and sob until I drop.

But it’s cold, and he’s coming back, so I don’t want to get sick. I head back into the cabin, lug one more heavy log over to throw on the fire, and sit down on the ugly plaid couch.

Despair creeps up over me, but it’s not the same kind I’m used to. It feels so much less fair. A cloud of despair over an already miserable existence is one thing, but on the heels of such a high, of such all-consuming happiness?

It’s unbearable.

I break down in sobs on the ugly plaid couch, and eventually cry myself to sleep.

Alone.

Liam

Leaving her was a lot harder than I anticipated.

I didn’t expect it to be hard at all. I knew what had to happen; I expected it to be easier now that she’s safe and I’m free to go about my business, no longer distracted.