Chapter Twenty-Two

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Sabrina

I had my girl back.

I had Callow to thank for… getting rid of the men who, it seemed, wanted to rape and torture her just to try to impress a rival club?

Things had turned out okay.

Sure, Daphne had some superficial cuts on her hands. And I wanted to get her into the doctor to check her arm after her ordeal to make sure she hadn't accidentally done more damage to it. But she was relatively unharmed. Just freaked out.

Not, as it turned out, too freaked out to beg to go to the bookstore like we planned after she got home to decompress for a few hours, though.

And, honestly, Callow and I were too relieved that she was safe and unhurt to deny her that.

So, after I cleaned up her fingers and I cleaned up his hands, we all piled in the car and drove to the bookstore.

Where I got to stand back and watch Callow and my girl smile and laugh and have a good ol' time together.

I swear my heart grew bigger in my chest with each passing moment just watching them together.

By the time we walked out of there, Daphne had the books stacked so high in Callow's arms that the muscles actually shook as we made our way back to the car.

But he was smiling.

So was she.

So was I.

This was something I hadn't really ever let myself hope for in all the years I was raising Daphne by myself.

A little family.

A man I loved.

Who Daphne loved.

One who loved us back.

Enough to kill.

"You alright?" I asked Daphne as I walked into her bedroom to find her in the bed, the blankets pulled up high, a pillow on her lap, and one of her books set on top of it.

"Yeah," she said, giving me a small smile as I put a mug of hot chocolate on the nightstand. "I'm sorry, Mom," she said. "I shouldn't have snuck out."

"No," I agreed, sitting at her side. "You shouldn't have. But I can't even be mad, given the turn of events."

"Is it wrong that I'm glad they're dead?" she asked.

"No," I said with a lot of certainty as I reached out to run my hand down her hair. "Because I'm glad they're dead too. From what I know about the tattoo guy's history, and what you said he said, it seems like the world is better off without him."

"Does it bother you that Callow killed them?"

"I would have done it myself if he didn't," I said, shrugging. "That's what a parent does for their kids."

"Are things, you know, okay with you guys?" she asked.

"Better than okay," I assured her. "I guess I should thank you for that, huh?" I asked.

"I probably shouldn't take too much credit."

"Why not?"

"Because I had ulterior motivation."

"What kind of ulterior motivation?"

"I thought that if maybe you were having some fun, you wouldn't be mad at me for having fun."

"Oh, honey. I've never been mad at you for having fun. I get it. Trust me, I had more than my fair share of fun when I was your age. I just don't want anything to happen to you."

To that, she nodded.

"I think I've had enough fun for a while," she admitted.

"I shouldn't be as happy as I am to hear that."

"I am gonna stick to this kind of fun for a while," she said, patting her book.

"Nerd," I teased, tugging a strand of her hair.

"Don't you have a boyfriend to be hanging out with? The hero is about to break out of captivity," she said, waving toward her book.

I got up off the bed but gave into the urge to lean down and press a kiss to her forehead. "Really glad you're okay, kid."

"Me too," she said, giving me a smile.

By the time I got to the door, I'd already lost her to her book.

"She okay?" Callow asked, standing in the kitchen leaning back against the counter.

"Thanks to you," I said, walking right into his arms, melting into him as he wrapped me up tight.

"You would have done the same thing," he said, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

"Yeah," I agreed. "But you didn't have to."

"Yeah, I did. She's a pain in the ass, but I really like Daph," he said with that mix of annoyance and affection that so many parents could relate to.

"She claimed she's done having fun for a while."

"Thank fuck. Gotta at least let my knuckles heal before she gets out there again."

"How did that happen?" I asked, pulling back, then reaching to grab his hands, looking at the damage that had been done again. "Didn't you have a gun?" Daphne had mentioned gunshots.

"I did," he confirmed. "But I was really fucking pissed off. And… sometimes that brings out an ugly side of me."

"I think if that side beats men who want to hurt my daughter, it's not really ugly," I told him, reaching to take his hand, careful not to touch his knuckles, and leading him with me to the couch.

We curled up there together for the rest of the day, watching TV and just enjoying each other's company.

"So," I said sometime later, looking up at him. "What now?" I asked.

"Now, I think I owe you a third date."