Page 40 of Keeping Collette

“I’ll always catch you.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head as they stopped by the front door.

“Here we go.” She raised her fist and pounded on the door. “Knocking lightly will do nothing, particularly if they’re in a drug-induced stupor. The noise won’t register with them.”

Behind the door, he couldn’t make out any sound of someone moving around. “I know I asked when we were in the car, but are you sure they’ll be home?”

“Yep. It’ll just take a couple of attempts to get their attention.” Collette pounded on the door again, while Deal controlled the urge to drag her back to the car so she wouldn’t have to face the people she didn’t want anything to do with.

The muffled sound of something crashing down to the ground, followed by some cursing, had Deal hauling Collette closer.

“It’s okay. They’re not going to hurt anyone. They’re not violent,” Collette reassured him.

Deal wanted to believe that, but until he saw it for himself, he wasn’t going to relax, or take any chances. “Right.”

The door opened, and the scent of weed, sweat, and damp assailed his senses, and he couldn’t stop his face from screwing up in distaste. Nor did he miss the way Collette coughed and turned away. A man clung to the door, the T-shirt he wore stained with something Deal didn’t want to ask what it was. His sweatpants hung low on his hips and had tears at the knee.

“Collette, Dollface. Wassup?” Her father made a move to hug her, but Collette took a step back, and seeing as they were holding hands, he moved with her.

“Can we come in?” Her voice was devoid of emotion, as if she was keeping everything she was feeling in check. Given the news she had to deliver, Deal totally understood what she was doing.

“Dollface, you don’t need to ask. You’re always welcome. We miss you.”

Deal doubted that was true. The fact that Collette’s father hadn’t even looked in his direction, Deal had to wonder if the man had even seen him.

He wasn’t arrogant, but at six-three and one hundred eighty pounds, he wasn’t a small guy.

“I highly doubt that,” Collette muttered as they crossed the threshold, and he bit back a grin. She’d said what he’d been thinking.

The inside of the house wasn’t in much better shape than the outside. He’d seen some pretty horrific living conditions when he’d been a SEAL, and this house was right up there. But they’d been in countries that were war torn, not a first world country.

“Take a seat.” Collette’s dad cleared away some clothes and papers off the couch, but it looked as if it had seen better days.

“It’s fine, we won’t be here long.”

As if the use of “we” again registered, her father finally looked at Deal. “Oh. Who are you?”

“This is my friend, Deal.”

“Deal? Who names their kid that? You have to work in a casino, right? Because you know ‘deal,’ you’re a dealer. Or maybe you’re a drug dealer?” Her dad started to chortle as if he was a stand-up comedian and he’d just told a joke, and the whole room was rolling on the floor with laughter.

“Sure, yeah that’s what I do,” Deal said, not caring what the man thought of him, because he wasn’t going to be seeing him again. If Collette thought it was weird that he’d agreed, she didn’t show it.

“Knew it.” He walked, or staggered more like it, to the doorway. “Debs! We got company!” he yelled into the hallway.

A few seconds later Deal caught the shuffle of feet, and Collette leaned into him. He slipped an arm around her shoulder, holding her tight.

He wanted this over with. Not for himself, but for the woman he was holding. She’d been through so much, and given the reaction of her father to his name, he imagined that whatever she said about Courtney wouldn’t really register with them.

A woman wearing a yellow sundress that was faded with age appeared. Her brown hair hung limply to her shoulders and her eyes were glassy. “Collette? Is that you, Dollface?”

Dollface.

If that was their nickname for Collette, he was never going to utter it around her.

“Mom. Have you seen Courtney?” There was clearly no love lost between mother and daughter. Again, not surprising. A mother was supposed to look out for their kids. Protect them. A father was supposed to do that too, and some did it much better than others, but there was always something more special, or perhaps an expectation, of the relationship between a mother and her child.

His relationship with his parents had been a good one. They were living in Hawaii now, enjoying the fruits of the hard work his father had done to allow them to live there.

He watched as Collette’s mom screwed her nose up as if she was thinking. “Um, yeah, I saw her yesterday. She was running off somewhere.”