"I would have to fly to California. I can't afford that."

"Livi, you're testing my patience here."

I roll my shoulders back. "Fine, you want the story, you got it. Hope you're ready." I glare at him for pushing me. "I was fourteen. Bryce was sixteen. I was a late bloomer, but I was developing, and I had more than buds. Bryce noticed."

I can see Hendrix grinding his teeth in front of me. The anger is building inside him, while the disgust grows inside of me.

"He would come in my room, and at first, he would touch me and be gentle." As the tears roll down my face, Hendrix moves his thumbs to wipe them away. "Sometimes, it wasn't so bad. I know I'm sick and twisted, and it's all wrong."

"Nothing wrong with you. He found you young and vulnerable, and he took advantage."

I shake my head. "I thought he would stop. Like, oh, it was a one-time thing. Heck, maybe I imagined it, I would tell myself. Only, he kept coming back. Every time I would visit my dad, he would find his way into my room. He was gentle in the beginning ... kind of..." I hiccup as the sobs break through.

Hendrix rests my face against his solid chest and holds me as I cry.

"The first time, my shirt ended up over my head because I wouldn't move for him to take it off. After that, my face was always covered. Then everything escalated. I felt suffocated, Hendrix. When I would say 'no, please don't,' he would cover my head with my shirt and then a pillow to keep me quiet. He was so big over me. I didn't dare fight." I shake against Hendrix as I mumble all of this into his chest.

"I would beg my mom not to send me to my dad's. It became my nightmare after I learned how wrong it was. I have lived in fear that if he gets a chance, he would do it again." I breathe in the scent of him while I cry within the safety of his arms. My body shakes as the memories flood. "Consent wasn't given, it wasn't even asked for." I sob more.

"Your stepmother, Victoria, said your dad had a stroke. He's asking for you, only you. The doctors say he is having mini-strokes behind it, and they can't seem to stop them. This may be your only opportunity. Do you want to see your dad? Take away the fucker who touched you, do you want to see your dad? I promise you on all that I am, Livi, no one is ever going to hurt you like that again."

Do I want to see my dad? I don't know.

Pulling back, I grab the bar towel out of Hendrix's back pocket. I blow my nose into it, knowing I am a complete mess.

"Fuckin' crazy," Hendrix says from beside me at my actions.

"I"-hiccup-"don't know."

"I'll go with you. This way, you can see your dad and stay safe."

"Really?" I question, unbelieving.

I blow my nose again as Hendrix merely shakes his head at me.

"Livi, please don't question my word."

Jagger walks in the kitchen. "Everything okay?"

"You and Morrison are gonna have to step in here for a few days," he tells him. "Livi and I are gonna go see her old man."

"He okay?" Jagger asks, coming up to rub my back.

I shake my head.

"He's in the hospital in California," Hendrix explains, pulling me against him.

"You sure you can-"

"I'm one hundred percent sure I can trust you two to deal with this place, starting now. I'm taking Livi home, and we're gonna get some sleep. One of you two can take us in the morning."

"Of course, you know that's a given, man," Jagger says. "Go."

When we get back to Hendrix's place, he leads me upstairs, strips me down, throws a shirt over me, and then pulls back the covers.

"Get in bed, babe. I got it from here."

I absolutely hate flying. Whoever decided climbing into a tin can and propelling yourself into the air was a smart idea was completely off their rocker. The Wright Brothers and all their genius-whatever.

Butterflies flutter in my stomach as my nerves overtake me. I run to the bathroom and empty the contents of last night's dinner. Immediately, Hendrix is beside me, holding my hair back.

"You okay, Livi?"

I nod my head as I try not to think of going up in the air. The climb inch by inch, foot by foot, mile by- I hunch over the toilet again as now I am left with the dry heaves.

Floating in the clouds, soaring in the sky ... I was not meant to be a bird; therefore, none of this appeals to me.

"Livi." Hendrix doesn't try to hide his concern in his tone.

"I'm okay. I guess I should've mentioned I hate flying." I snort, laughing at myself, which causes me to lurch with dry heaves again.

Once Hendrix releases his hold on my hair and disappears out of the bathroom, I take the time to push down the rest of my nausea and brush my teeth. He returns with a cup of water and Dramamine. I smile softly as I take the pills and finish getting ready.

Stepping outside, I see Morrison's shiny sports car sitting out front. Ever the stylish one, Morrison is in black slacks; a gray, button down shirt; and aviator sunglasses. He looks like he just left a photo shoot for a high class fashion magazine. I shake my head at him as he approaches us. It is way too early in the morning for anyone to look that put together.

He nods to Hendrix before wrapping his big arms around me in a hug. Hendrix practically growls, while I laugh until I snort. I am a goober, but oh well.

Taking my bag, Hendrix loads everything into the back of his classic Chevy.

"Look, man, she's powerful, but she isn't made to hug those curves in a drift like your foreign, aluminum can, excuse for a car, Morrison. Don't drive it like you stole it, fucker," Hendrix orders.

Boys and their toys.

I shake my head and let out another giggle as I settle into the backseat, surprised when Hendrix joins me rather than sit up front and be a passenger seat driver to his brother.

Nerves consume me the closer we get to the airport. Am I really going back there? Why does my dad want to see me so badly?

I really wish I could puke again; only, the medication is doing its job.

Hendrix laces our hands together as we make our way through the airport. The only time he isn't touching me in some form of comfort, guidance, or possessiveness is when we have to pass through the security checkpoint individually. I find his attentiveness to me simply another reason to love him.

Gasp.

"Livi, are you okay?"

No, I am not okay. I am in love with Hendrix Caldwell. He surely isn't ready for this admission. I can't tell him any of this.

Pushing it down, I swallow hard.

"I'm good. Nervous about flying, that's all."

After about seven hours, we make it safely to California. Thankfully, Hendrix knew I wouldn't want to inconvenience my stepmother nor would I want to be indebted to any of them, so he rented a car for us.

Pulling up to the hospital, I am full of mixed emotions. I do this for a living. I deal, day in and day out, with patients in the same situation as my dad-medical emergencies and not being prepared for them.

Has my step-monster already signed a DNR? If one of these mini-strokes were to be more, is my dad's paperwork in order? Are his affairs in order? Does my step-monster understand the need and the importance of a medical power of attorney? Should he lose his ability to be cognizant of his surroundings and unable to make sound decisions, someone needs to have a medical power of attorney to handle his healthcare and wellbeing. Does he have a living will? How does he truly feel about life support?

The more I allow my brain to work through all the questions I don't have answers to, the more I realize I don't know anything about my dad.

For the first time in forever, I know that giving up control is exactly what I need. More importantly, I know Hendrix Caldwell will deliver on his promise. I just hope someday I can be half as important to him as he is to me.

Chapter Nineteen.

Hendrix I am a morning person. Even though I have worked most of my life until the wee hours, I like the calmness of morning.

We are driving up to the hospital on a beautiful day, the California sun is shining brightly. The gloom still hangs thickly over Livi's head. She may not know it now, but I know how important this will be for our future.

As we park at the far end of the lot, facing it, she is looking down, playing with her hands.

"Livi, look up and out the window." She does and nods as she chews on her finger nail. "The sun is shining. The sky hasn't fallen. The world is still okay. You showed your strength by coming here. I am proud of you."

She shrugs and then forces a smile. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"Being here, caring enough about me to-"

"Yeah, well, you make it impossible not to." I lace my fingers though hers and kiss her knuckles.

"So, did you think you'd be meeting my father this soon?" she tries to joke.

"Nope." I smirk.

"Tell me something awkward about you. Maybe this will feel less ... well, awkward."

"My parents never married."

"Mine, either."

"I have my mom's last name, and I pray her heart."

She looks at me and smiles. "If hers is good, you got yours from her."

I nod. "Hers was something, that's for sure."

"You don't like your parents?"

"I don't like my pops." I open the door to avoid the awkwardness of the dead mom talk while her dad is fighting for his life.

I open her door. "Let's go face this, shall we?"

She holds my hand tight and practically melts into me as we walk toward the hospital entrance. We look at the sign and take the elevator to the seventh floor ICU where we walk up to the desk, and she asks for her father's room. The nurse instructs that it is immediate family only. She tells the nurse she's his daughter, and then she nods before looking at me. She's checking out the ink peeking out from my sleeves, and I don't give a shit.

"Her husband," I say before she asks who I am.

As we are buzzed through, Livi looks up at me.

I give her a wink. "Wouldn't want you to have to do this alone."

We stop at another nurse's station, and Livi finds her voice. She asks about her father, and the nurse tells her the same thing the step-bitch told me.

When we finally walk into his room, he's asleep. I pull out a chair and motion for her to sit while I stand behind her.

I went to the hospital to pick Livi up for lunch the other day, and that was the first time I have been in one since Mom passed away. It was different. I wasn't in a room watching someone fighting for their life, and I wasn't faced with the damn universal beeping sounds those fucking machines put out. This time, I can't escape all of that.

The sterile smell assaults my nose. The white walls gouge my vision. The hustle and bustle of the nurses waiting for the next call put me on edge. Today is different.

If I didn't care about Livi, I wouldn't be here. I want to be strong for her. I will be strong for her. I am strong for her.

Her dad's eyes flutter open, and I notice the left side of his face is somewhat drooping. He smiles, but only the right side of his lips turn up. Finally, tears start flowing, and this is when both sides of him seem to work.

"Hi, Dad," Livi says in a little girl voice.

"Ol-li-v-" He closes his eyes and shakes his head a bit.

"It's okay." She stands to hold his hand.

I take note that she has not rubbed her ass once, and I am so fucking glad.

"Bryce," he slurs and Livi's body visibly stiffens. "I. Should. Have. Stopped-"

"You knew?" she asks in a squeaky voice.

"He. Counseling." He nods.

"He told a counselor?"

"Family cou-" He gets frustrated because he can't speak. "I'm. Sorry."

She nods as she swipes her hand under her nose.