Page 5 of Steele

She wrapped her arms around me and hugged me tight. “I heard you fightin’ with Mom. I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.”

“You didn’t.”

She traced the tattoos on my neck with her little hand. “But you were fightin’ about me.”

“Nah. We were fighting with each other. But we shouldn’t argue.”

“Mom sounds mad.”

“She’s not mad at you. She’s mad at me. I’m sorry I got angry with your mom. I’ll be better. All you have to know is that we both love you.”

“I love you, too.”

I kissed her cheek before heading toward the door. I paused at the threshold. “I’ll see you at Donuts with Dad.”

She smiled and snuggled into her pillow.

For Lili, I’d make this right with Natalie. I found her in the kitchen. “I don’t want to fight with you.”

“Then stop fighting me on Lili.” She sagged with an exhale. “I don’t want to fight with you, either. I don’t want to keep you from Lili, but Henri and I are making a home for her and for us. Lili needs stability, and you’ve never been very good at making us your priority.”

I wanted to argue with her, but she was right, at least, partially. While we were married—Jesus Christ, we were still married, but the final divorce was just a technicality. In all the years we were married, I’d never had a side piece. But by the time I’d realized my priorities were fucked up, we’d drifted too far apart. Those days were in my rearview.

My responsibilities to the Crawlers hadn’t left much time for her, but I’d never fuck off on my financial responsibilities to Lili, even when I hadn’t been here physically. “I’m here now, and I’m trying to do the right thing.”

“I hope so. If you really want to make this easy, then compromise with me. Agree to standard visitation.”

“Nat, that isn’t compromise. I’ll compromise. We can stay married. I don’t give a fuck. Drag out the divorce until Lili is eighteen.” I shrugged. “Looks like you’ll be fucking my wife indefinitely,” I said to Henri.

I crossed the kitchen to the refrigerator and snatched the month’s school calendar from beneath the alphabet letter magnets. Donuts with Dad was Tuesday morning at the elementary school.

Henri shifted closer to Natalie. “We’ll take our chances with the courts. Let the judge decide whether you’ve been a good father. You might want to reconsider this battle. You might end up with limited supervised visitation.”

“Fuck off, Henri.”

Chapter Two

Jaymi

I didn’t want to be here. Not today. I wanted to be anywhere else. Donuts with Dad meant dads and their daughters. And their boys, too, of course. But seeing dads with daughters hit too hard and hurt too much.

Sometimes, I wondered why I kept swinging, fighting as if I had any chance of winning when pain and betrayal were my constant companions. Grief seemed to be the only friend I had left. The only thing I could count on to be there day after day. And I admit, I held onto it like a stray thread, afraid if I let go the rest of my life would unravel. Although, nothing could be harder than what I’d already endured.

A knock sounded on my classroom door. I quickly glanced at the clock above the whiteboard. The first morning bell would ring in a few minutes. I wasn’t ready for this. If I didn’t know it would crush my students, I would’ve called for a substitute. But I couldn’t do that to them.

Just like I couldn’t leave them even though I didn’t want to be here. Not anymore. Not for the last year, eight months, and thirteen days. I knew because I counted, worshipping the days to let my baby know I lived for her even though life was hard when you had one foot here and one in heaven.

I weaved between the tables, making my way across the room.

Before I opened the door, I knew who was on the other side. Dark jeans clung to lean hips, and a soft gray long-sleeved T-shirt molded to his muscular shoulders and massive torso. Brett Steele’s penetrative gaze met mine through the glass window of my classroom door.

Flutters swarmed my belly. I wasn’t sure if they were butterflies or bees. I wasn’t blind. The man was dangerously attractive. Long sun-kissed hair hung past his shoulders, hazel eyes, and he had a single dimple on his left cheek when he smiled.

He smiled at me now. But he reeked of trouble. I’m sure he received hundreds of letters while incarcerated. Not that Lili had ever divulged that her father had been imprisoned, but he owned the dark and dangerous vibe. I was judging the book by its cover, and his story made me nervous.

I’d only met him once, briefly, when he’d come to the school. He’d left an impression in his leather vest full of motorcycle club patches, a rumbling Harley, and tattoos. He wore rings on his fingers, but not a wedding band.

Lili talked about her parents’ pending divorce. That sweet little girl loved her dad. Apparently, her mom had moved on, and Lili was worried about her dad. I hated that for her. She was too little to have adult-sized worries.