#FridayFlash: Little Girl Gone

This is a bit of Shady’s history, from my Shadow Connor series. Shady’s a Wolven Feral (basically a werewolf).

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Little Girl Gone

October 1966

“What?” Stunned, Tristan sank down into a chair.

“Lars asked me to be his mate, and I said yes,” his daughter repeated, her tone more subdued than the first time, and holding a faint note of apology.

“Honey, you just met him,” he protested, eyes darting around the living room.

“We’re bonded, Daddy.”

Rather that comprehend that immediately, Tristan looked at the framed photos around the room. Shady as a baby, secure in Hope’s arms. At six, in wolf shape, her first rabbit dangling from her jaws. Dressed in her Sunday best and clinging to his pants leg with a solemn expression at Hope’s funeral at age eleven.

There at thirteen, Mike’s arms around her shoulders as they mugged for the camera. And his favorite, the one he’d snapped when they thought no one was looking: Shady’s arms around Mike’s neck, his around her waist, both of them wearing lovers’ secret smiles as they stared into each other’s eyes.

That was only a few months ago, Tristan thought, aware of Shady’s worried “Daddy?”

“You’re bonded? I haven’t even met him.”

“I know, Daddy, and I’m sorry. It’s all happened so fast.” Her tone begged for understanding. “He’s wonderful. And he does have a job, Daddy, and a house in town.”

“What about your college?” He’d been so proud she’d had a choice of colleges to attend, and had chosen to go.

“I haven’t missed a class yet. Lars thinks it’s cool I’m doing it.” The quick reassurance didn’t ease Tristan’s mind.

“Oh. That’s… that’s great, honey.” Dear Jesus, barely flown the nest and she’s already setting up one of her own, he thought. “Honey, do you love him?”

Did he imagine that she hesitated? “Oh yes, Daddy, I do.”

“And does he treat you right?” He was imagining her hesitation. Had to be.

“Yes, Daddy.”

“That’s what matters to me, though I hope it’s not too long before I get the chance to meet him.” Tristan paused. “That, and that you’re happy, babygal. Are you?”

“I am, Daddy. I really am. I feel… whole,” she replied. “Is that how you felt, with Momma? Like you were missing something, and she was it?”

Tristan frowned, eyes closing. Her tone seemed pleading. Was she afraid she’d made a mistake? He quietly answered, “Yes. Exactly like that.”

Shady sighed then a voice sounded in the background on her end. “Babe, this is the last box. Are you about ready?”

“Just about. I’m talking to Daddy. I need to give him our number and address,” she replied. Tristan’s frown deepened at the slavish adoration in her voice.

“When is he going to visit? For your birthday?”

The frown became a scowl; was the bastard trying to dictate when he’d get to see his own daughter? Her birthday was over a month away!

“I was thinking sooner,” Shady said.

“Well, we have to get you settled, your heat’s next week and then we have your introduction to the pack.” There was a pause, and when he spoke again, his voice was louder. “I just thought it’d be like an extra present if he came for your birthday, but anytime after the introduction is cool by me, babe.”

Tristan’s ire cooled. Of course they have some settling into to take care of, he thought. I know better than to make snap judgments. “Your birthday’s fine, honey. That’ll give me more time to make arrangements.”

“Okay.” She gave her new number and address, then chatted for a few more minutes before saying good-bye.

Hanging the phone up, Tristan stared at the photo of her and Mike, lost in their own world. He announced to the empty room, “I need a drink.”

Perhaps a drinking buddy, as well, and damn if he didn’t have a good idea where to find one. Standing up, Tristan headed for next door – and Mike.