"What's wrong?" asked Joey.
He shifted, heading toward the stairs. "Jess."
At ground level, he marched through the grass and headed toward the parking lot. He'd put a stop to her leaving. She had schoolwork to do, and the rule was she was told to tell him where she was going before she left the apartment.
"Wyatt." Joey grabbed his arm, tugging him to a stop. "Wait."
"What?" he snapped.
"Calm down." She spread her hands on his chest. "Think about what you're doing."
"Jess is—"
"Jess has a boy who likes her." Joey's gaze softened. "She's a fifteen-year-old girl, and having boys paying her attention is a good thing. It makes her feel special."
His head pounded. "A boy?"
Joey nodded. "You'll embarrass her if you go confront her in front of him."
He rocked back a step. "A boy?"
That was his little girl. She wasn't interested in boys yet.
Not boys in pickups, secretly meeting her, and not letting her father know he was interested in his baby girl.
He growled and stormed ahead. There was no reason to meet a boy alone in a truck. If she wanted a boy to hang around, they could do it in the apartment where he could watch out for her.
"Wyatt." Joey grabbed his wrist. "Wait. Please."
He turned. "That's my daughter."
Joey recoiled and put her hands up. Frustrated, he stared at her. He couldn't fight with Joey and take care of his daughter.
Turning, he walked away and sought out the boy who'd talked his daughter into meeting him in his truck.
He never stopped until he reached the vehicle and opened the passenger side door. All he wanted to do was drag out the boy and teach him a lesson.
Jess jolted at the intrusion, looking over her shoulder. "Dad!"
"Get out." He pointed.
"Why?" Jess's brows lowered, and her lips pinched together.
It'd been a long time since he'd seen that stubborn streak in his daughter. The anger coming from her slammed into his chest. He held on to the door, reeling with the obvious. Jess had to grow up before her time. When she should've been hanging out with her little friends, crying over not going to the mall, and obsessing over some television show, she was taking care of Travis and picking up the slack when her mother was wearing off her addiction or completely absent.
When he should've worried about her missing out, he was patting himself on the back for having a damn good daughter, more mature and responsible than her given age. He should've realized she was missing out on normal teenage stuff.
"Dad, I'm not going anywhere." She held up the book on her lap. "Derrick came over to study with me, and Travis is in the apartment playing Atari. It's quiet out here."
"You're not going anywhere?" he asked.
She shook her head. "Derrick has to be at work in an hour. We're cramming."
He looked across the cab of the truck. The boy held up a notebook. A clean-cut kid wearing an apron from Kiggin's Grocery Store.
"See you in an hour." He shut the door and walked away, glancing behind him at his daughter as she turned her attention back to the boy.
Beating himself for having neglected his daughter and not giving her the time to experience life as a carefree teenager and blowing up the situation, he looked toward the apartments for Joey and found her gone.
"Fuck," he mumbled.
He headed toward Joey's apartment, and Travis bellowed his name. He turned around. "What?"
"Phone." Travis hitched his thumb over his shoulder. "It's Roddy."
He jogged back to his place. Travis followed him through the apartment.
"Can you call Frank when you're done and ask if we can ride his dirt bikes again?"
Messing Travis's hair, he said, "Let me see what's going on first with Roddy."
Today was Sunday. There was no work scheduled.
Picking up the phone receiver, he stretched the cord to the end of the kitchen. "Wyatt here."
"Boss, it's Roddy. The president of Tarkio wants to meet with you."
He refrained from asking why. If this was about Dean, he preferred his son not know.
"When?" he asked.
"Before six. At the clubhouse."
He could feed the kids before he left. Jess's boyfriend would be gone. He ran his hand through his hair. He needed to talk to Joey, but that was going to have to wait.
"I'll be there." He hung up the phone.
Planting his hands on the counter, he hung his head. He'd like just one fucking day with nothing going on and no one threatening his family.
"Dad?"
He straightened, giving all his attention to Travis. "Yeah, son?"
"Are you okay?" Travis shoved his hands in his pockets.
"Everything is good." He walked over to his son and put him in a headlock. "How about a quick game of Missile Command, and then I need to go pick up a pizza for dinner."
"Can we have Kentucky Fried Chicken instead?" Travis grabbed Wyatt's arm and tried to out-muscle him.
"Do you think your sister would like that?"
"Duh, dude." Travis squirmed out of his hold. "Can we take it over to Joey's so she can eat, too."
"Not tonight, son." He sat down on the couch and held his hand out for the game controller. "You go first."
Not knowing how long the meeting with the president of Tarkio would last, he couldn't plan anything later with Joey. Like his son, it was natural to think of her and want her around.
Chapter 17Joey
FOUR MEN SURROUNDED the table, ready to play pool with anyone who challenged them. Joey had watched the games for the last hour, picking out their strengths, their handicaps, and debating with herself whether she would ask to play.
A garage band played on the floor-level stage on the other side of the bar. The talk going around was that they were a new alternative-rock group from Seattle's underground, trying to make a name for themselves.
She tapped her toe. It was her nerves more than the
