She missed him. It was that simple. But for her sake, as well as his, she had to stay away. The need to stand on her own two feet kept her strong. The desire to see him vanquish his demons kept her on the straight and narrow.
He hadn’t called. As much as that hurt, it also gave her a measure of relief. A few syllables from his sensuous mouth and she’d weaken. Cold turkey was always best.
No one needed to know she went home each night and touched herself, trying to recapture some small wisp of their time together. Only then did she permit herself to remember how his stubble teased her inner thigh, and how hot and sweet his mouth tasted.
She stood at the bus stop and remembered how right it felt to love Liam’s fingers tangled in her hair. Lost in thought, she almost missed the man pacing a few meters away. Accustomed to making room for homeless people on the sidewalk, she automatically stepped back as he approached.
Only then did she recognize the auburn hair under his worn hat and that cocky gait.
“Katie-bug.” Her father grinned. “I’ve been worried sick about you.”
Kate’s lip curled as if of its own volition. “Have you? It would be the first time.”
Louis kicked at a beer can next to the bus stop and watched the stale contents drip onto the sidewalk.
“You sent a loan shark to my home, Dad,” Kate said. “He beat me up. He punched me and kicked me and threatened to rape me. Did you know he’d do it?”
Louis’s face fell, no doubt noticing her faded bruises for the first time. Of course, he’d feel badly. Just not badly enough to do something about it. “Oh, shit. Hugo promised not to get rough. I’m so sorry, Katie.”
“You’re not sorry for anything,” she shouted, not caring if the people walking across the street could hear her. “You’re only sorry I didn’t give him the money!”
He looked around her but avoided her direct gaze. “Will you…give him the money?”
“I can’t fucking believe you!”
“Watch your language, miss.”
She refrained from laughing. Her father might have many sins, but he’d always been a stickler when it came to his daughter cussing. To him, women swearing ranked right up there with murder. “Oh, right, because my language is the real issue here.” She shook her head. “Have you been following me? Did you trail me today just to find out if I have the cash?”
“I’ve been watching your apartment here and there. You were gone for a while.”
“Yeah. I should have stayed away, too.”
He drew nearer, his face torn by urges he barely understood. “Katie, I never meant for this to happen. The gambling. Your mom. None of it.”
She reached for his hand, noticing how he flinched. It had probably been some time since someone touched him. “Will you let me get you help, Dad? Because I will take you to Gamblers Anonymous right now. I will do whatever it takes, but you have to want it.”
For a second, he looked tempted, or at least defeated. But then, with disappointing swiftness, he pulled his hand out of hers. “You don’t understand. No one does. I’m in too deep.”
“It’s never too late.”
“Katie, the only way you can help me now is by giving me the money. I can’t go to any meetings if I’m dead.” He stared at her, his gaze almost heartless as he eyed her pearls. “Maybe if you sold some things, like your choker. Your mom got that from her grandmother. I could get a good price for an antique necklace like that.”
Her last shred of hope for him died when he suggested pawning the only memento she had of her mother, his own wife. Had he forgotten her completely? If not, he’d shelved her memory, unable to deal with it. Unable to accept the part he’d played. For him, denial really was just a river in Egypt.
She offered him a sad smile, and did something she never thought she’d do. She reached behind her neck, unclasped the necklace, and handed it to him.
He snatched it out of her hands and thrust it into his pocket as if someone were watching. “You were always a good kid, Katie. I know you probably wouldn’t believe me if I told you I was proud of you, but I am. You won’t regret helping me. I just have to do this one thing and then I’ll get help. I promise.”
She might as well have been listening to a tape recording of him. “Dad, listen to me. We’re done. I never want to hear from you again. Ever. I hope you get help. I really do, but it can’t come from me anymore. You don’t have a daughter anymore, and I don’t have a father.”
Louis pulled the pearl necklace out of his pocket. For a moment, she thought he was going to give it back, but he shoved it back into his pocket. He rubbed his mouth, turned and walked down the street.
As he turned the corner, Kate whispered, “Goodbye, Dad.”
Hugo Vaughan had clearly been paid. Or so Kate assumed. After all, he’d never come back to collect. Whatever price her dad got for the choker, it must have fit the bill to cover his debts. She wasn’t sure her mom had ever had the pearls appraised, but she knew the necklace was old and in impeccable condition. She didn’t have to work for Antiques Roadshow to know it cost a mint.
It was probably the first time she’d wasted a thought on Vaughan since leaving Liam. In a way, she had almost expected the loan shark to show up at her door, demanding more cash. She just hadn’t cared. He could come if he wanted. Hell, he could stay for tea and biscuits.
It didn’t matter because every moment away from Liam seemed to ensconce her further down in the hole she kept calling rock bottom, a place she now hated with all her might. She worried about ever being able to claw her way out.
One bright spot was her new job at Percolate, a quaint coffee shop that catered to hipsters and hipster wannabes. She’d walked into the shop, talking a big talk about providing them with some much-needed musical entertainment. The place served great coffee but was far too serious. The manager had offered her a job as a clerk instead, saying she could sing after her shift serving up coffees for tips.
Granted, it wasn’t anywhere close to being her dream job, and it certainly paled in comparison to crooning love songs at Decadence, but for now it would have to do. She’d answered ads for every entertainment-related position in the city, but none had panned out. This wasn’t such a bad deal. The clerk job offered a bit of money and a whole lot of brain-numbing repetitive work, and at least she could keep her pipes warmed up with the hour of singing she did after the shift.
As she prepared for her shift, she noticed a newspaper lying on the break table. Taking a closer look, she almost gasped. Left open to the entertainment pages, the photo showed Liam surrounded by a bevy of beautiful women at Vice, each of them looking at him with adoration. She looked at the date on the paper and saw it was only one day old.
A stabbing pain assaulted her heart. “Well, you seem to have moved on.”
Someone crept up behind her. Her peripheral vision caught a glimpse of blond dreadlocks and piercings. Cynthia, her nineteen-year-old coworker, motioned toward the article. “Liam Doyle, huh? Fuck me. I would totally let that man shave my pussy.”
Kate turned to her, frowning. “Uh…”
Cynthia turned to her. “What? You’ve never let a man shave you before? It’s super-hot.”
Kate bit her lip, remembering how much Liam loved playing down there. She decided to keep that juicy memory to herself. “Too much information, that’s all.”
Cynthia picked up the paper. “Hey, did you hear that guy just…”
“Actually, I’d rather not hear about Liam Doyle. Please.” She tried not to look like she was a simpleton.
The girl shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
Feeling lower than ever, Kate adjusted her T-shirt, pasted on a smile and took her station at the counter. Luckily the shop was dead and she didn’t have to face anyone right now. She grabbed a wet cloth and proceeded to clean, mentally reviewing her set list of songs for the end of her shift.