you to.”
We made out like two teenagers who couldn’t keep their mouths off one another. He didn’t once try to fondle my breasts or rock my hips against his dick. His hands stayed on the sides of my face the entire time. I’d read plenty about him to know he wasn’t like this.
Though, with me, this was enough for him.
I was enough for him.
<>Cash<>
Kissing Journey helped quiet the anxiety of what I’d be walking into at the Pierce home. Quickly learning she was my calm before any storm.
“Sir,” the driver announced through the speakers, breaking us apart. “We’re at the gate.”
“Oh!” Journey exclaimed. “I’ll talk to Bill.” She jumped off my lap, and I instantly felt the loss of her warmth, her reassurance, her love in my arms.
She rolled down the window of the limo to what I assumed was Jackson and Harley’s gated community.
“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” the security guard announced when he saw her.
“Hey, Bill! How are you? Long time, no see!”
“Aren’t you supposed to be in school?”
“I am. I mean, I was. I’m here for—”
“Bailey’s birthday party? Of course, you are. The two of you are like two peas in a pod. I think you spend more time at your brother’s house than you do at your own. Does she know you’re here?
“It’s a surprise!”
“She’ll be thrilled to see you. It’ll probably make her whole birthday. You know how much she adores you.”
“I adore her too.”
“Can you let Mrs. Pierce know I got her email, and I’d love a piece of cake?”
“Will do.”
“You tell that sweet girl I said Happy Birthday.”
“I will. Can you let us through please?”
“Sure can. Have a great time.”
Journey closed the window and fell back into the seat beside me. “Bill is a close friend of Jackson and Harley’s. He’s been the security guard ever since I can remember.”
I barely listened to what she just said. I was too engrossed in wanting to know where my daughter was raised. My eyes took in their community, reminding me a lot of where I lived when I wasn’t on tour. It was fancy as fuck. Each mansion was bigger than the next. Families living their perfect lives, with their perfect kids, and their perfect pets that didn’t shit in the house.
At last, we arrived at the largest mansion of them all, which was at the end of the cul-de-sac. Their home was probably every bit of twenty thousand square feet. It didn’t surprise me in the least.
I sat there with my heart in my throat, picturing all the milestones I’d missed in Bailey’s life.
The first time she played outside, rode her bike down the driveway, drew with chalk on the sidewalk.
The first time...
The first time...
The first time...
I’d missed it all.
“Cash,” Journey called out, grabbing my chin so I would look at her. “She’s only turning nine-years-old today.”
“I’ve missed nine years of everythin’.”
“She’s barely lived. Think of all the years and time you still have with her. Stop dwelling on the past and think about the future.”
“How do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Make everythin’ better. You’re like a magical fuckin’ unicorn.”
She giggled.
“You’re so young.”
“I’ve been through a lot.”
I nodded, understanding where she was coming from. When I was eighteen, I was living on the streets without a pot to piss in or a window to throw it out of.
Damn, how times have changed.
Sometimes I still felt like that guy, the starving musician trying to make something of himself. It didn’t matter the level of success I’d reached, it was never good enough. I always wanted more, thinking about the next best thing. It drove my bandmates crazy, and our record label ate it the fuck up.
Loving my determination and drive.
My goddamn insanity.
Journey didn’t waver, opening the door as if she knew I wanted to haul ass out of there. She grabbed my hand and didn’t let it go, leading me to the front door and quite possibly my demise.
Fuck me.
Not only did I have to worry about the quarterback, but Harley’s old man suddenly came to mind.
“Creed still carry a gun?”
She peered back at me while we were walking. “Why are you thinking about that?”
I shrugged. “Just wanna know if I might die.”
“Creed wouldn’t murder you.”
“No, but he sure as shit wouldn’t blink an eye at fuckin’ shootin’ me.”
“Well, good thing my daddy is a doctor then. He’ll stitch you right up.”
I’d spent the last twelve years contemplating this moment. Never thinking it might actually happen in real life. It was all-consuming.
A dream.
A nightmare.
A