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Andrew Clarke may be the man whose surname I carry, but he is not my father.
My mom watches from inside the car without aword. I know better than to say anything. Why bother when she’ll just take his side?
Try not to upset him, Lulu. It’s your fault he’s mad, Lulu. Just behave, Lulu.
Swallowing, I slide into the back seat, wrapping my arms around my stomach.
“And don’t think you’re sleeping in the house tonight,” Andrew warns, looking back at me through the rearview mirror.
At twenty-one, this is all I have. A stepfather who hates me, a mother who stays quiet, and a tent to sleep in when I’m locked out.
Howsad is that?
CHAPTER THREE
Ajax
My body hums, every nerve ending awake and ready.
Ready to kill, ready to take.
Only once before have I felt this pull with another person, that feeling of family, of them belonging with me, to me. Mary. I knew the minute that I saw her mother, pregnant and begging for the life of her unborn child, that the infant she carried was meant to be my baby. No one would care for or protect it like I could.
Images of the past add to the thrill that the idea of growing our family gives me.
My muscles are locked. It took every ounce of control that I had not to react when he grabbed Lulu. The grimace and pain on her pretty face were enough to kill me. But yelling, fighting, or reacting would haveonly gained attention and made the moment memorable for those around us.
Not what we want . . . not when that asshole’s about to go missing.
“Daddy,” Mary mutters, bringing my attention back to her.
I hate the look of fear on her face.
“It’ll be okay, princess,” I say, kissing the side of her head.
I scoop her up and settle her on my hip. I dread the day that my little girl gets too big to carry, but maybe by then, Lulu will have given her a sibling . . . or five, if I have anything to say about it.
The thought of Lulu round and full with my child sets something off inside me like a switch being flicked.
Lulu will be pregnant by the time I get her to her new home in Wisconsin, whether she likes it or not.
Mary moves, leaning down to look at her knee, which is no longer bleeding.
“Daddy’ll fix it,” I reassure.
Mary frowns but doesn’t say anything. Maybe it’s not just her knee bothering her.
“You never have to be afraid while I’m here,” I remind her.
“He scared me,” she whispers, wrapping her small arm around my neck.
I shift her so she can cuddle in close but stay silent, giving her time to gather her feelings.
Finally, my sweet girl whispers, “He hurt Lulu.”
“I know.” I nod. “Daddy’ll fix that too.”
She blinks at me, not quite understanding the meaning beneath my words, but that’s okay. She will when she wakes up, and Lulu is in the RV traveling on the road with us.
