"Please, I need you to talk to a fifteen-year-old who has locked herself in her bedroom."As he rambles, he turns, and when he spots me, his eyes narrow."What the hell are you doing here?"
His impassioned attitude and spitting voice have an instant effect on me, but before I can react, Amanda cuts in."Why do you have a teenager in your house?"
He runs his fingers through his messy hair, and I notice his beard is longer than normal, enhancing his rough exterior.Stop staring at him, Alisha.
A hard, high-pitched angry yell fills the air, and everyone's head turns to the right."These are the wrong ones!"
A box flies, and when it lands on the ground, its contents spill over the floor.Amanda and I zoom in on the tampons rolling through the living room.My eyes fly to Cole, whose brows draw closer together.Amanda laughs as she picks up a torpedo-shaped cotton item and holds it up.
"Who is she?"
Cole rubs the nape of his neck."My daughter."
"What?"Amanda's voice shrieks.
"I'll explain later."He runs his hands another time through his hair, and I catch the lost look in his eyes.The mighty Cole Walker, brought to his knees by feminine hygiene products.Something warm and dangerous unfurls in my chest.
"Where is she?"I ask, already moving.
He surveys me for a few seconds, like he's trying to figure out my angle."Straight ahead, turn left into the hall.It's the third door on your right."
"And her name?"
"Samantha," he adds with defeat.
I make my way to the hallway, chuckling when I catch Amanda saying, "Oh, don't worry.Alisha will handle her just right.Why don't you make me a cup of coffee and tell me how you've become a father of a fifteen-year-old girl?"
He lets out a sigh, and they walk another way.I keep walking until I've arrived at the door he mentioned and knock.As I wait, I rummage through my bag and pull out two items.
"Samantha?"I call in a calm voice."Are you okay?"
A few moments later, the door opens, and two heavenly blue eyes peek through the crack.Jesus, they remind me of his.
"Who are you?"
"I'm Alisha, and I thought you might need these," I say, holding up my hand.
Her eyes lower, and when she sees what I'm carrying, she walks back while leaving the door open.I enter and find the young girl standing in the middle with her arms crossed in front of her, head downward.I hold out the chocolates and the menstrual warriors.
"Thank you," she murmurs politely, while taking them from me.My lips curl into a soft smile.
"No problem, girls stick together.Especially during their periods."
A faint smile surfaces when I walk further into the sizable bedroom.The walls, bed linens, and ceiling are white, and the only color in the space is greyish carpet.This is not what I'd call a girl's room.Men.
She walks past me, sits on her bed, and places her hands in front of her face."He's terrible at communication," she whines.
I let out a chuckle.Like father, like daughter—both allergic to using their words.
Her gaze comes up."I asked him to buy a specific brand of tampon, and he came back with the wrong kind.I want to go back to Los Angeles."
She shifts her head and gazes outside when her eyes get watery.My heart clenches.Poor kid's whole world just got flipped upside down.
"When did you arrive here?"I ask.
She lets out a huff."A week ago."
After opening the package of chocolate, she places two in her mouth and holds the package out to me.I take one and walk back to the window where I sense her investigative eyes inspecting me.
