My First Daddy (Dark Daddies 7)

She doesn’t sound happy and I know this won’t be a pleasant conversation.

“When and where?”

“Now, Rittenhouse Square. I’m sitting on a bench near the middle.”

I clear my throat. Public place, just after dark…

She’s either going to kill me or make sure she’s not tempted to kill.

“I’ll be there soon.”

I hang up, down my drink, and head outside. I grab a cab and have him drop me off across the street from the Barnes & Noble. I head into the park, surprised to find it still full of people, although I shouldn’t be shocked. It’s a nice night and people want to be outside.

I find Sam sitting on a bench toward the middle, just like she said. An older couple is sitting nearby with a tiny little dog running around between them.

I stop near Sam and she looks up at me.

“Sit,” she says.

I hesitate, but I sit down. We leave a big gap between us.

“Listen, Sam—” I start, but she cuts me off.

“No, please. I want you to listen, okay?”

I grunt and nod. Fucking hell.

“When Kevin died, I felt like my whole world came crashing down. I’ve been with him so long, shared so much with him, and I felt…” She pauses for a second. “I felt like I lost a part of me.”

I stay quiet, watching her. She doesn’t look at me. She’s staring across the park, at something in the distance.

“I didn’t think anything could feel worse than that. At least, until I walked in on you kissing my daughter.”

I feel that right in my fucking gut. I have to look away from her, down at my feet.

“You know he loved you, right?” she asks softly. “Kevin always looked up to you, thought you were the coolest guy, even when your lives took different paths. Do you have any idea how much he looked up to you?”

“No,” I say softly.

“He did. He worshiped you, Julian. I think that if I liked you even a little bit more, he would’ve spent a lot more time with you.” She laughs bitterly. “Maybe he would’ve figured out how much of a scumbag you are on his own if that happened, but oh, well.”

I clench my fists. I know she’s right, I know he looked up to me…

But fucking hell. I’ve done some bad shit in my life, but kissing Avery isn’t one of them. I just wish she could understand.

“Here’s the deal,” she says finally. “If you stay away from Avery, if you never speak to her again, if you disappear from our lives, this all goes away. But if you so much as sneeze in her direction, I’m going to make your life a living hell. I’ll start with the cops and lawyers, and if that goes nowhere, I’ll start calling the press. I’ll tell this story everywhere. You’ve done some bad things, Julian, and I think this story is going to be the cherry on top of the shit sundae that has been your entire existence.”

I finally look up at her. She’s staring at me, anger in her eyes, pure hatred.

“You know,” I say softly, “I’m not perfect, but I never did figure out why you hate me so much.”

She laughs bitterly. “Because you were such a piece of shit to Kevin and I hated seeing him chase you around like a puppy dog.”

I shake my head. “No, that’s not it. I mean, I can see you resenting me for that, but you hate me. You always have. Why is that?”

She’s quiet for a second. “I think you’re a rotten person. That’s all there is to it.”

I nod a little bit. “Yeah, maybe. I can see that, I guess. I haven’t exactly been a saint all these years. But you know what?” I turn to her now, pleading with her, trying to get her to see the truth. “Of all the shitty things I’ve done, kissing Avery is one I’ll never regret.”

She glares at me like she wants to strangle me. “I don’t give a shit what you think. Stay away from her.”

“Sam, listen. It’s not sordid, it’s not gross, it’s…”

“Oh, my god. Listen to yourself, Julian. You, what? You love my daughter?” She makes a face like she wants to puke. “You’re not capable of love.”

“Yes, I am.”

“No, you aren’t. You’re like a robot that’s been programmed to love, but you’ll never really understand it. There’s something broken inside of you.”

I feel my anger flare up. I know this is the wrong time to feel angry, but fuck this.

Fuck this, god damn it.

“No,” I say. “Maybe I’m not perfect. I’ve done fucked-up things. But I’m not broken.”

“You can’t come back from this.”

“I don’t want to come back from this,” I say to her viciously. “Don’t you get it?”

She stands. “I can’t listen to you anymore. Stay away or you’ll regret it.”