Ridin' Solo (Sisters From Hell Book 1), Marika Ray [librera reader txt] 📗

Making a mistake doesn’t make the people who matter in your life love you any less. Grabbing hold of what makes you happy in life, even if it’s messy, is what makes me happy as your father.”

I hobbled over to the door, cracking it open to see my father standing in the hallway staring at the picture on the wall of all five of us Waldo girls taken at Vee’s high school graduation. Another tear slid down my cheek. Did Dad think I messed up today, and that’s why I got shot?

Dad’s head turned toward me, and the regret I saw on his face in the shadows of the evening light made my heart crack in two.

“I saw how that boy looked at you.” Dad sucked in a deep breath and stood taller. “He’s in love with you. Now I don’t know if you’re already involved and I don’t need to know. But I do hope you let yourself bend the rules if it means you’ll be happy long term.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. My dad, the guy known three counties over for being the ultimate stickler for the law, was telling me to bend the rules?

“How much Norco did they give me?” I said out loud, leaning into the door for support.

He chuckled. “You forget I was young once. Your mama was only sixteen when I started courting her. Her parents weren’t too thrilled with a nineteen-year-old hanging around their daughter.” He waggled his eyebrows and I couldn’t help but sputter out a laugh. “What I’m trying to say is that sometimes bending the rules doesn’t make you a bad person. It makes you human. For what it’s worth, I may give him shit, but Wyatt’s got my blessing as long as he treats you right.”

Dad leaned in and kissed my forehead. “Glad you’re okay, peanut.” His voice broke on the endearment I hadn’t heard since I was five, and the tears I’d kept mostly at bay came back on full speed. I swiped them away as quickly as they came, but I didn’t trust myself to speak.

The front door slammed. “Ah. Your mother is here.” Dad spun around to walk down the hallway to help Mom with all the food containers she undoubtedly had. At the very end of the hall, he paused, turning back for one last thing.

“I’ve got a brand-new shovel and just the right place to bury a body. Say the word and I’ll take care of any problems with Smith or Dolby or whoever the hell he is.”

“Dad!” I sputtered through tears.

He just shrugged. “What? Your grandpa Tom said the same thing to me the first time I took your mother on a date. Kept me on the straight and narrow.”

With that, he left to help Mom. I chuckled while still crying, wondering how I could find something so wonderful while my heart was also breaking. Before I could square away in my head a world in which my father said I should bend the rules and then offered to off my boyfriend—or ex-partner-slash-secret lover-slash-biggest mistake—in the next breath, Mom came around the corner in a whirlwind of worry and Tupperware.

“What are you doing up, darling?” She shooed me back into my bedroom, fluffing my pillows and making sure I was comfortable under a mountain of blankets before placing a piping hot dish of fettuccine on my lap.

I swirled my fork and took a bite, nearly groaning at the flavors bursting in my mouth. Nobody made pasta like Mom. “Thank you. I didn’t even realize I was hungry.”

Mom patted my cheek and walked around the bed to come sit next to me. “Nothing like getting shot to work up an appetite. I should know.” I gave her a funny look which had her smiling. “No, I haven’t been shot, but your father has. At least four times over his career.”

“What?” That was news to me. I knew he’d broken his finger once trying to cuff a suspect, but shot four times?

Mom flicked her hand through the air. “We hid those things from you kids. No reason to get you girls upset. Most of them were just grazes anyway, but I’ll tell you what. The pattern was the same. He’d come home angry and tired, devour a plate of food, pass out and wake up at least once with a nightmare, reliving the whole thing.”

I kept eating and listening, wishing she knew the whole story about Wyatt and me. This wasn’t just a simple gunshot wound. My heart was wounded too. My calf would heal. I wasn’t so sure about my heart.

“How about you tell me what’s really going on?” Mom pushed a lock of hair behind my ear.

I shot her a pathetic attempt at a smile. “You a mind reader now too?”

Mom took the almost empty plate away from me, setting it on the nightstand before settling so she leaned against the headboard and our shoulders were touching. She tucked her feet under one of my blankets.

“I know when one of my girls is struggling and I also think it has nothing to do with a bullet.”

I sighed, allowing myself for the first time to think about all that had happened today between Wyatt and me. “I thought I was in love with him, Mom.”

“And now?”

The burn behind my eyelids increased. “Now…well, now I know he’s not the man for me. I need someone who will sacrifice everything for me, just as I’d do for him. Someone who understands how important family is. Loyalty. Honesty. Those are all deal breakers.”

Mom’s arm came around my shoulders. “And Wyatt isn’t that man? He sure seemed infatuated at the baby shower when he couldn’t tear his eyes away from you.”

I sniffled hard, rubbing my hand across my nose and willing the tears to stay back. “I thought he might be, but turns out he’s too busy running from his past to be honest about who he is.” A sob worked its way up my throat,