Chapter 3

Damon

I did not want to come today.

Leo asked me three times. My assistant. Good man. Annoying as hell. He kept saying "it's visiting day sir, Rick will expect you." I told him Rick does not expect anything from me. That is the problem.

But I came anyway.

Because that is what fathers do. Even the ones who do not know how to be fathers.

The drive was quiet. Just me and the engine. I like the quiet. It is the only time my head stops moving. The Bugatti hummed under me and the road blurred and I thought about nothing. That is a lie. I thought about the meeting I left early. The contract that was not signed. The call I needed to make at six.

I did not think about Rick.

That makes me sound cold. Maybe I am cold. His mother said that once. Right before she left. "You are a cold man, Damon. Rick deserves better." She was right about the cold part. Wrong about deserving better. He got me. That is what he got.

The school showed up on the horizon. Brick buildings. Green grass. Kids everywhere. I do not like schools. Too many people. Too much noise. Too many eyes.

Leo had already called ahead. My guards were waiting at the gate. Two of them. Marcus and Cole. Good men. They do not talk much. I like that.

I pulled into the roundabout and killed the engine.

The fountain was there. Nothing special. Just a stone bowl with dirty water. Some girl was sitting on the edge. Knees pulled up. Chin resting on them. She looked young. Smaller than the other kids. Her hair was falling over her face.

I did not think anything of her. Not yet.

Marcus opened my door. Cole was already scanning the building. Windows. Roofline. Corners. That is what they do. That is what I pay them for.

They glanced at each other. A quick look. A check in. All clear.

I got out.

The air was warm. Too warm for a jacket but I was not taking it off. I do not like being unarmed in public places. The jacket stays.

I looked at the school. The windows. The doors. The parents milling around. I hate this part. The pretending. Walking in there like I am just another dad. I am not just another dad. Everyone knows it. They stare. They whisper. They want something.

That is fine. Let them want.

I nodded at Marcus. He stepped ahead.

Then I turned.

And I saw the girl again.

She was looking at me.

Not the way people usually look at me. Not hungry. Not scared. Not calculating. Just looking. Like she was trying to figure something out.

I looked back.

I do not know why. I do not stare at children. That is not who I am. But she did not look away. Most people look away. She did not.

Her eyes were dark. Wide. There was something in them I could not name. Not fear. Not curiosity. Something else.

I felt something in my chest. A shift. Small. Barely there.

I looked away first.

That bothered me.

I walked toward the building. Marcus and Cole ahead. My shoes on the pavement. Click. Click. Click.

The fountain was on my left. She was still sitting there. I could feel her eyes on me. That is a thing I learned young. You can feel when someone is watching. The back of your neck knows.

I did not turn my head.

But I slowed down.

Just a step. Just a breath. I do not know why. I do not do things I do not know why.

Then I kept walking.

Marcus held the door. I walked inside. The hallway was cool. Darker than outside. My eyes adjusted.

The common room was loud. I could hear it from here. Kids laughing. Parents chatting. Someone was crying. There is always someone crying.

I did not go to the common room right away. I stood in the hallway for a second. Collected myself. That is what I call it when I have to remember how to be around people.

My phone buzzed. Rick. "here yet?"

I typed back. "inside."

He sent a thumbs up. No "hi dad." No "excited to see you." Just a thumbs up. That is our relationship. A thumbs up.

I put the phone away.

There was a vending machine against the wall. Old. The lights were flickering. I walked toward it for no reason. Just to have somewhere to stand. I looked at the chips. The candy bars. The fake juice that no one actually buys.

I heard footsteps.

Squeaking shoes. Coming from the hallway behind me.

I did not turn around. Not right away. I let her come closer. I do not know how I knew it was her. But I knew.

The footsteps stopped.

I turned.

It was the girl from the fountain.

She was standing there. Same small frame. Same hair falling over her face. Her hands were at her sides. Fists. Like she was nervous but trying not to show it.

Her eyes met mine.

She did not look away.

Neither did I.

The hallway was quiet. The common room noise felt far away. It was just us. Her by the corner. Me by the vending machine.

I looked at her face. Really looked. High cheekbones. Full mouth. Her lips were parted like she was about to say something but changed her mind.

Her eyes were the thing though. Dark brown. Almost black. But there was light in them. Something alive. Something that made me want to keep looking.

I do not look at people like that. I do not have time. I do not have interest.

But I looked at her.

She spoke first.

"You're not a parent."

Her voice was low. Not shy. Just quiet. Like she was saving her energy for something else.

I almost smiled. Almost. "How do you know."

She tilted her head. "Parents look happy to be here. You look like you swallowed a bee."

That time I did smile. Just a small one. Just a twitch at the corner of my mouth. "Maybe I like bees."

"Nobody likes bees."

"You don't know me."

She held my gaze. "No. I don't."

There was something in the way she said that. Like it mattered. Like she wanted to know me. That should have made me uncomfortable. It did not.

I should have walked away. I should have gone to the common room and found Rick and done the father thing and left. That was the plan.

But I did not move.

"What's your name," I asked.

She blinked. Like she was surprised I wanted to know. "Laura."

"Laura what."

She smiled. It was a small smile. Uncertain. "Just Laura. For now."

That was interesting. Most kids give their full name. They want to be remembered. She did not. Or maybe she wanted me to work for it.

"Okay. Just Laura. What are you doing by the fountain."

"Waiting for my parents."

"They didn't come."

It was not a question. I could tell. The way she said it. Flat. Like she was used to it.

"They said they would," she said. "They usually say that."

I felt something. I do not feel things often. But I felt that. A girl sitting alone by a dirty fountain waiting for parents who were not coming. I knew that girl. I was that girl once. Except my parents did not even bother saying they would come.

"I'm sorry," I said.

She looked surprised again. "For what."

"That they didn't show up."

She shrugged. One shoulder. Like it was nothing. But her eyes said something else. "It's fine. I'm used to it."

"Being used to something does not make it fine."

She looked at me for a long second. Then she looked down at her hands. She was twisting her fingers together. Nervous.

"Why are you here," she asked. "If you don't like it."

"I have a son."

"Here?"

"Somewhere. In the common room probably."

She nodded slowly. Processing. "So you're a dad."

"That's what they tell me."

"Do you like it. Being a dad."

That was a question no one had ever asked me. Not once. People asked about my business. My money. My houses. My cars. No one asked if I liked being a dad.

I did not know how to answer.

"I try," I said finally. That was the truth. It was not a good answer. But it was true.

Laura looked at me like she understood something. I did not know what. But she looked at me different after that. Softer.

"My dad does not try," she said. "He just doesn't show up. That's his version of trying. Staying away."

"That is not trying."

"No. It's not."

We stood there in the hallway. The vending machine hummed. Somewhere a door slammed. A kid laughed.

I should have asked her age. I should have asked what grade she was in. Normal questions. Safe questions.

Instead I asked "do you want a candy bar."

She laughed. A real laugh. Not polite. Not forced. Just a laugh that came out of her like she could not help it.

"Are you offering me a vending machine candy bar right now."

"I am."

"That might be the saddest thing anyone has ever offered me."

"Probably. But the question stands."

She looked at the vending machine. Then at me. Then back at the vending machine.

"Fine. But only if you get one too."

"I don't eat sugar."

"Then you're watching me eat it alone. That's even sadder."

I pulled out my wallet. The machine was old. It probably did not take cards. I had cash. I always have cash.

"What do you want."

She pointed. "The purple one. The caramel with the weird name."

I put the money in. Pressed the buttons. The machine groaned. The coil turned. The candy bar dropped.

I bent down and got it. Handed it to her.

Our fingers touched.

It was nothing. A second. Less than a second. Her skin was warm. My hand was not.

She pulled back fast. Like I had shocked her. Maybe I had.

She unwrapped the candy bar. Took a bite. Chewed. Swallowed.

"Thank you," she said. Her voice was different. Lower. Softer.

"You're welcome."

She looked at me again. That look. The one I could not name. The one that made my chest feel tight.

"I should go," she said.

"Back to the fountain."

"Back to somewhere."

She turned. Started walking. Her shoes squeaked on the floor.

I watched her go.

She got to the corner. Stopped. Turned around.

"Hey."

"What."

"Damon."

I froze. "What did you say."

She smiled. That small uncertain smile. "Your name. One of the guards said it. I heard him."

Of course. Marcus. Always using my name when he should not.

"That's not fair," I said. "You know mine and I only know half of yours."

She tilted her head. Thinking. Then she said "Collinson. Laura Collinson."

Laura Collinson.

I repeated it in my head. Laura Collinson.

"Now we're even," she said.

"Are we."

"I don't know. Are we."

She held my gaze for one more second. Then she turned the corner and was gone.

I stood there by the vending machine. The candy bars hummed behind the glass. The lights flickered.

My chest was still tight.

I did not understand what was happening to me. I am forty two years old. I have built things. Broken things. I have made men cry in boardrooms. I have walked away from things that would have destroyed other people.

But I could not walk away from that hallway.

Laura Collinson.

I thought about her hands. Her laugh. The way she said "that is not trying" like she knew exactly what it felt like to be let down by someone who should have shown up.

I thought about her eyes. Dark brown. Almost black. With that light in them.

I pulled out my phone. Rick had texted again. "coming or what"

I typed back. "on my way."

I walked toward the common room. My feet felt heavy. Wrong. Like they wanted to go the other direction. Back toward the fountain. Back toward her.

I pushed the door open.

The noise hit me. Loud. Hot. Too many bodies.

I scanned the room. Found Rick. He was sitting on a couch with his arm around a girl. Blonde. Pretty. She was looking at her phone.

Rick saw me. He did not get up. Just raised his hand. "Hey."

"Hey."

I walked over. The girl looked up. Her eyes went wide when she saw me. They always do.

"Dad, this is Laura."

My heart stopped.

I am not being dramatic. It actually stopped. For one second. Two. Then it started again. Faster.

Laura.

The girl from the fountain. The one with the dark eyes and the candy bar and the laugh that sounded like she had forgotten how.

She was looking at me. Her face was pale. Her lips parted.

She knew.

She knew I was Rick's dad. And I knew she was Rick's girl.

Neither of us said anything.

Rick looked between us. "You two okay?"

Laura spoke first. Her voice was steady. I did not know how. "Yeah. Fine. Just surprised."

"You know each other?"

"No," she said. "We just met. In the hallway."

Rick laughed. "My dad was probably being weird. He's always weird."

Laura did not laugh. She kept looking at me.

I kept looking at her.

Rick put his arm around her. Pulled her closer. She let him. But her eyes did not leave mine.

I should have said something. Something normal. "Nice to meet you." That would have been fine. That would have been safe.

Instead I said nothing.

Because I did not trust my voice.

Because if I opened my mouth, I was afraid of what would come out.

Laura looked down at her hands. The candy bar wrapper was still in her fingers. She crumpled it into a ball.

Rick kissed her temple. A quick peck. A habit.

She did not lean into him.

I noticed that.

I noticed everything.

The way her shoulder tensed when he touched her. The way her smile did not reach her eyes. The way she held that crumpled wrapper like it was the only thing keeping her hands from shaking.

Rick looked at me. "You gonna sit or just stand there like a statue."

I sat down. Across from them. Not next to them. I could not be next to her.

Laura finally looked up.

Our eyes met.

And I knew.

I knew I was in trouble.

The kind of trouble you do not walk away from. The kind that changes things. The kind that ruins you if you are not careful.

She was seventeen. Maybe eighteen. Rick's girlfriend. A child.

And I could not stop looking at her.

That was the moment.

That was the moment everything shifted.

I just did not know how bad it was going to get.