Daddy's Girl: A Daddy Issues Novel by Rebel Wild (books to read for 13 year olds .TXT) 📕

“He thinks I have a chance,” he finally says.

“But?”

“He thinks he can get me a plea deal that could get me out of here in six months, but it’s risky.”

“Take it.”

“I can’t. If I admit guilt to what they’re accusing me of I’ll lose my license.”

“But you’ll be free, right?”

“Free to what? Starve to death, be homeless on Skid Row? What kind of life would I have? I may as well stay in here where I can at least eat.”

“You’re being ridiculous. You can fight to get your license back. There must be ways around that. The priority is to get you the heck out of here.”

“You’re too young to understand. I had plans for us, big plans. We were going to own the world. If being broke and miserable is what’s going to be left of my life, I’d rather not have one. I might not have one anyway if I agree to this deal.”

“Don’t say that.”

I spend the whole time trying to talk sense into him, but there’s no changing his mind. He let it slip that it’s because Mr. Garrett offered him the deal personally. He doesn’t want to have anything to do with him, and he made me promise not to speak a word to him. He hates the man with a passion, not that I blame him. It takes a special kind of asshole to lock a person up for making a mistake on the job. Unfortunately, he’s the only shot we have at getting our lives back. I hate to lie to Daddy, but he’s determined not to listen to a word I say, and what’s worse, he uses every lawyer trick he knows to talk me down. I don’t know if he’s in denial or he just doesn’t care about coming home.

By the time I leave him, I’m feeling angry, exhausted, and frustrated. I’m barely holding myself together in the car as Joe drives. He has to call my name several times to let me know we’ve made it back to Mr. Garrett’s place. Coming back to this big, empty house just makes it worse. I’ve never felt so alone.

I pick at the veggie burger Bree made me for lunch, then spend the remainder of the afternoon in my room researching how Daddy can still be a convicted criminal and practice law. The Bar is very clear about the actions they deem as unfit to practice. I think what Daddy’s charged with falls under abuse of the legal process, but there must be some statute of limitations. I long to have someone to help me with all of this, or at the very least someone to talk to about it. I’ve kept it inside for so long, it just drains the energy from me. I’m hit by the crushing blow of the weight of the world and an overwhelming sense of sadness. Giving up, I grab my stuffed rabbit from under my pillow and hold it close as I cry it all out on my bed until I fall asleep.

I wake with a pounding headache, confused as to where I am. The sun is completely down and my room is dark except for the dim little bedside lamp that someone’s turned on. I look at my phone for the time. It’s already eight p.m. Scared because I’m late for dinner, I rush downstairs into the kitchen. The faint, delicious smells that still linger let me know dinner has not only been served, but eaten, and cleared. Mr. Garrett’s probably pissed off at me for missing the time allotted for him. I want to find him and apologize, but I’d better not disturb him. That might piss him off more. Joe comes in the kitchen where I’m sure I look stupid just standing doing nothing

“Hey,” he says. “He wants you in his office.”

“I should change,” I tell him, looking down at my jeans and bare feet.

“Too late. He’s already seen you.”

I wonder how he could have possibly seen me until I realize that Mr. Control Freak with the crazy fetishes must have cameras in here. So, he’s seen me standing here like an idiot. Well, that’s just great. I force myself to walk to his office. My heart sinks lower in my chest the closer I get to it. I know he’s going to chew me out. One daddy has already made me cry and I’m in no mood to be yelled at by this other one, especially since I don’t even want him as my daddy.

“Come in,” he says, seeing me in the doorway. I walk in to see him busy typing away at his computer. I stand with my head down, waiting to be acknowledged. “Closer,” he says, never taking his eyes away from his screen.

“Yes, sir,” I tell him and walk to the spot I stood on my first day. I stand there for several minutes while he ignores me.

“You slept through dinner,” he finally says, stopping his work to speak to me. “Did you not get enough rest last night?”

“Yes, sir, I thought I did.”

“Yet you still missed dinner.” He rounds his desk to stand behind me. I want to apologize, to explain what happened with my dad today, but I know he won’t care for my excuses, so I bite my lip to shut up. “Turn around.”

“Yes, sir.”

I turn in his direction. I feel the heat of his glare as he eyes me up and down. I would give anything to be able to hide my jean-clad legs and bare feet.

“You left your room without shoes,” he says, disgusted with me as he walks back toward his desk. I turn so I’m still facing him. The fingers of his right hand are tapping on his desk as he leans on it.

“Yes, sir,” I confirm, even though it wasn’t a question.

“Do I need to remind you of what I expect of you, Miss Warren?”

He’s back to calling me Miss Warren again. Just fall on your