“I came up here to tell you that she’s yours tonight.”
He swipes a hand through his hair, a twitch of a smile breaking through his anger. “Really?”
“Yes. You were right. I have been keeping her from you.” When he’s about to interrupt, I hold up a hand. “But not for the reasons you think.”
“Why, then?”
“Not just, at least.” I lift the piano bench off the floor and sit on it. “I’m concerned about what you’ll do to her. You’re not exactly in control.”
“Well, that’s because I can’t have her.”
“Maybe. But it doesn’t change the fact that you have a hard time getting a grip on yourself.”
“I’ll behave,” he says with an exasperated sigh and an eye roll.
“What do you plan on doing to her?”
“That’s none of your business.”
I bite down on my molars. He’s right, but it’s really damn hard to accept.
It’s his turn to calm me. “Relax, Dad. I promise to stay within the limits. No scars, no scat, no breaking her mind. Nothing you can’t heal with your magic touch.” He lifts his hands and wriggles his fingers.
“Thank you,” I say. “Keep an eye out for her movements. If she tenses her hips and draws in her ass, she’s had enough, and if she stops responding to touch, stop immediately.”
“Shit, you’ve already told me this a hundred times.”
“These things can’t be said enough.”
“I know how to read a girl. Remember, I’ve been doing this since I was sixteen.”
I grab my forehead and look off to the side. He’s right, but it does little to placate me. Heaving a sigh, I straighten. “Just don’t send her away too harshly. She’s very vulnerable to rejection and easily feels unwanted.”
Seriousness descends, a flicker of that concern for her I saw a week ago returning. “Because of what I did to her back then?”
“That’s part of it, but I sense there’s more to it.”
He stares off to the side, gaze unfocused. When he faces me again, there’s a somber heaviness in his expression. “Her mom was a drunk. I never thought much of it, but she would alwaysscold Jenna and be kind of cruel when she picked her up at school. She didn’t even show up at her recitals or any of the competitions, but all Jenna would talk about when she got a trophy was how she was going to show her mom.”
“What about her father?” My entire body buzzes with the need to hurt whoever’s responsible for Jenna’s deep-seated abandonment issues. It doesn’t matter that I’m partly to blame. Someone else needs to hurt for it. It’s a shame her mother died two years ago so I can’t take it out on her. I would love to use some of the absurd amount of money this trading obsession has given me on making her life miserable.
“I don’t know. She never talked about him. I guess he must have abandoned her.” Realizing what he’s saying, Killian whips his head to the side. “Shit! How did I never see any of that?”
Killian rarely shows compassion—not when talking about victims of war, bullying, or loss. But when it comes to abandonment, he’ll have these moments of clarity where he sees beyond his own selfish needs. I’m the same to a certain degree. I don’t care much for other people and their problems, but seeing Killian’s mother walk out on her son at the age of eight has done things to me.
“You were just a kid,” I tell him.
“Yeah, but still.”
“Don’t blame yourself. Just make sure not to push her away too harshly. At least give her a hug. Tell her she did well.”
“I’ll try.”
I sigh. Killian’s issues with letting people get close are just as bad, if not worse, than his abandonment issues. Or maybe they’re just two sides of the same coin—the fear of being left, and the fear of opening up to someone who can leave him.
“Thank you,” I finally say, and we both sit in silence for a few minutes.
Pressing my hands to my knees, I push up. “You have thirty minutes with her tonight. I know it’s not much, but we need to ease her into this or it won’t work.”