Chapter 2

Ford

The storm outside is loud, raging with the type of anger I used to have gnawing away at my gut all the time. For twenty‐eight years, storms never woke me up. Not until Felicity came to live with me. Now I can time the first crack of thunder and lightning to the minute that she'll be here and in my bed. Glancing over at the clock on my nightstand, I give it roughly ninety seconds.

My jaw cracks with a yawn, dreading the fact I know I won't be getting anymore sleep after this. While she's little, she can take up more space than a full‐grown adult, and she fucking kicks.

"Dad ..." her small voice cuts through the darkness, afraid and unsure.

"Yeah, I'm here." I reach out, grasping onto her little fingers, and when I get a good hold on her, I pull her up next to me. "It's okay, just a storm. Nothing bad, right?"

Her head goes up and down on my shoulder, her hair knocking me in the nose with the motion. A sneeze threatens to escape, but I hold it back so as not to scare her.

"I hate them." The worry in her voice is enough to cut through my chest like a hot blade. "I was by myself ..."

"I know." I lean my head down, kissing the top of hers. "But you're not alone anymore. I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere."

Fucking Bridget. I wish I'd have known what she was doing before she got locked up. While neither of us were prepared for a child, she most definitely wasn't. We'll be trying to fix the damage she's done to Felicity for years.

"It was scary," she whispers.

The court-mandated therapist told me there would be moments like this. She told me what to do, I just have to make sure I don't fuck it up. I need to be open to it all. I need to let her tell her story. "Do you want to talk about it? Would that make you feel better?"

Her fingers grip mine, along with the teddy bear she doesn't go anywhere without. "It was dark, and the noises were loud."

I hug her tighter, burying my nose in the bubblegum scent of her hair, hoping that having me close will take her out of the nightmare she was subjected to. "I'm here." I reiterate. "Any time you don't want to talk about this, you don't have to, Fee."

"I wanted Mommy. I yelled for her, but she never showed up." She doesn't cry, but the disappointment is there in her voice. She doesn't understand why the one person who should've been there for her wasn't. "But you are." She hugs me tightly. "I love you, Daddy. I'm tired now."

This is how it always is. She tells me a little, and my mind assumes a whole lot. She snuggles in, and within moments, she's breathing evenly. But not me. I'll spend the rest of this night trying to figure out how I'm supposed to forgive myself for the shit she endured, and make sure it never happens to her again.

"It looks bad." She pouts the next day, folding her arms over her stomach. "There's bumps."

I'm exhausted, and I don't want to have this argument today. I'm not getting any better at doing her hair. In fact, I might be getting worse. "I know, I'm sorry, but I don't have time to try and do it again, Felicity. What about we wear it down?"

"No, it gets in my face."

She's right, it's way too long, and it needs to be cut, but I have no idea what to tell a female hairdresser if I were to take her. "Look, I promise we'll do something drastic soon, okay?"

Her face is red with annoyance, and the fire brimming in her eyes is enough to let me know she's about to give me a run for my money. "Ashley!" She yells as she makes a break toward the door.

"Son of a bitch." I follow after her, but Felicity is already over to our new neighbor.

"Can you please do my hair?" She's begging. "I don't want to be made fun of for the bumps." Her bottom lip is jutting out.

"Ashley has things to do. C'mon let's let her get to work."

But Felicity has other plans. She's dug her heels in. "Pleeassseeee?"

"Let's go now." I put some authority in my voice, the type she hardly ever hears from me.

"No, Ford, it's fine. It'll only take a few minutes." Ashley reaches her hand out, taking my daughter's in hers. "Let's go inside and see what I've got to help us, huh?"

"Thank you." It's so heartfelt, I want to fucking cry. Fee asks for so little, is happy in this shitty trailer park, and doesn't even try to get extras when we go to the grocery store. How the fuck do I even deserve to let this kid call me Dad?

I follow them inside, and have an awkward seat on a stool in the kitchen. Ashley settles her onto another one, before holding up a finger. "Be right back."

"I'm sorry, Dad." Felicity ducks her head. "But I just want to look pretty."

"You're beautiful," I tell her. "Your hair is my issue, and I'll get better."

"I can teach you," Ashley offers as she comes back in with a container, holding a brush and a bunch of other shit that I have no idea what it is. "You can come over, or I can go over there, on second thought. You probably have more chairs, and I can show you how to do a couple of simple hairstyles."

"Okay." I sigh, rubbing my sweating palms on the worn thighs of my jeans. "I'd appreciate it."

"No problem, really. You need a haircut, girlfriend. Let me text Lizzie and see when she can get us in. I need one too."

The excitement in Felicity's eyes is enough to hit me deep in the chest. "Thank you." I mouth over her head.

Ashley grins. "No problem." She says it with a shrug as if she does this shit every single day.

Within minutes, Fee's hair is done, and all three of us are heading out the door. "Tell Ashley thank you again." I tilt my chin over to the woman who's made our day.

She runs over, throwing her arms around Ashley's legs, hugging tightly. "Thank you so much, especially for the bow." Her hand goes back to where a ribbon is tied at the top of her ponytail. "It makes me feel pretty."

"That's because you are." Ashley wraps her arms around my daughter. In that moment I wonder what the fuck I'm doing, and how I'm going to make it living next door to this woman who's apparently got Felicity wrapped around her little finger.