Possessive Daddy Next Door

We stay like that for a long moment, feeling each other, tasting each other. We break apart and he tilts his head. “That went well.”

I grin. “It did.”

“How do you feel?”

“I feel good. But… Max, I can’t ask you to stay here in Loftville forever.”

“That’s okay,” he says, his voice soft. “I’m happy to be a cop again. I can give Tab a good life here. And it helps to be in favor with the ruling class.”

I laugh and held his gaze. “What she said up there, about me…”

“If you want to stay, I’d be happy,” he says. “But I won’t make you.”

I kiss him again. I can’t help myself. We break apart and his lips linger on my neck. “Listen to me. Whatever happens, I want you to know… I’m in love with you, Delia. No matter what happens from here on out.”

“I love you too,” I say, my voice choked.

We kiss again, wild with stupidity and love and joy.

I don’t know what’ll happen. I don’t know if my mother can clean up this mess. I don’t know if I’m going to end up staying in Loftville for the rest of my life.

But I do know I love this man. He’s the first person to ever make me feel whole, feel good. I won’t give this up, not for anything. I need him in my life, need him so badly it almost hurts.

And he’s not going anywhere.

“Come on,” he says. “Let’s go get Tab. Maybe we can have a nice day before shit gets heavy again.”

“I’d like that.”

We hold hands as we walk down the hall, not hiding anymore.22MaxThere’s a light drizzle as my truck slowly rolls through Loftville. Delia looks at me from the passenger seat and I can see the fear in her eyes.

I told her to stay home. We fought about it. I wanted her home with Tab in case shit went bad, but she refused. She said it was just as much her fight now as it was mine.

In the end, her mother decided for us, and made it clear she wanted Delia along for the ride. “As a little insurance,” she said.

Messed up lady, but I can understand where she’s coming from. There’s a duffel bag stuffed with a million dollars in hundreds in my back seat. It would be tempting for some men to ride off with it all.

Not for me, but maybe for others.

“You okay?” I ask.

She nods. “I’m fine.”

“You can just stay in the truck, you know.”

“Max.”

“I’m not trying to fight,” I growl at her. “I’m trying to keep you safe. You can stay in the truck while this goes down. What are you going to do out there, anyway?”

She hesitates. “I can help.”

“No, you can’t. If shit goes bad, you’ll get in the way. I’ll have to worry about keeping you safe and won’t be able to focus on killing those mobsters.”

She shifts and looks out the window. “You’re probably right.”

I’m almost surprised to hear her say it. “Look, stay in the truck. You’ll be able to catch what’s going on from a safe distance. If things go bad, hop in the driver’s seat and get out of here, okay? You can get back to your mother and tell her what happened and…” I trail off, my fingers clenching the steering wheel.

She reaches out and puts a hand on my leg. “I’ll make sure Tab is okay,” she says. “You don’t need to worry about that.”

I nod once and can’t bring myself to look at her. The thought of my daughter losing both of her parents drives me wild with rage and sadness.

We drive on in silence. The meeting place is just outside town on the opposite end. Delia gives me directions. We move through downtown, with its nice shops and quaint restaurants. We move through the southern residential neighborhoods and I can’t help but notice more than a few empty and boarded-up houses. We roll onwards, past the houses and into what looks like farmland until we pull down a long and winding driveway.

“Used to be more factories around here,” she says.

“Yeah,” I say. “I learned that firsthand.”

She laughs. It’s nervous and sharp. “I forgot about that.”

“What was this place?”

“I’m not sure,” she admits. “Shipping center, I think. My mom would be able to tell you.”

“How does this town even exist?” I say as we pull into a parking lot in the shadow of a huge warehouse. The building’s walls are bare metal. All the signs were stripped away a long time ago, and there’s nothing left of the people that used to depend on this place for their livelihoods.

“Our family employs a lot of them,” she says. “We’ve lowered rents. Forgiven debts. Bought out mortgages and handed over deeds to struggling families. We have way more staff at the manor than we really need. And I know Mom is constantly trying to court new companies into the empty warehouses.”