Fighting For What's Missing

55.

After nearly four-thanks to traffic-hours on the road, we finally arrive at Tisha's. But as we drive up the driveway, we see another car that doesn't belong to Tisha.

"Who's that?" Agnes asks.

"Let me check." I put the car in park as I remove my seatbelt then open my door.

"I want to go." Before I can say anything, Agnes reaches over and pulls the keys out of the ignition. She tosses them to me, and we climb out of the car. Side by side we hurry up the rest of the driveway and path, up the steps, and across the porch. I try the front door and it opens. In the corner of my eye, I see Agnes' face twist with concern. She hates how Tisha leaves her door open all the time.

We step inside and... I'm frozen in shock.

"What the hell?!" I snarl at my sister. "You're out?! AND VISITING HER?!" Lena, my younger sister, gasps, her eyes settling on Agnes. "No!" I step in front of Agnes. "Don't look at her! What the f...what the hell are you doing here?!"

Lena looks at me. "Will-"

"Fucking save it!" I snap. "After everything I did for you, you come here?!" My vision blurs, a hint of red mixing with whatever color I can make out. I'm done with this shit. I'm fucking done. I stumble back, moving around Agnes, and out of the house.

Agnes

"Daddy?" I turn to follow him out, when Lena, my aunt that I've never had a chance to meet, speaks.

"Wait." I stop and look at her. "Tisha's sick," she rushes out. "That's the only reason why I'm out. I have to be here."

Tisha winces. It must hurt seeing her own kids wanting nothing to do with her. Daddy has made it crystal clear that the only reason why he's talking to Tisha is because of me. Now Tisha's sick...

"I'm sorry." I don't mean to be rude, but daddy's upset. I rush outside and find daddy sitting in the bed of his pickup truck, his back facing away from the house. Trying to be light on my feet, I walk over. Daddy flinches when I climb in and join him.

"Just...let me be..." daddy struggles to get out. I can't help but notice how much his hands are shaking.

"Grandma's sick," I whisper.

"I don't care."

"Daddy-"

"No, Agnes," he turns his body to face me. I look away to avoid the insane bloodthirsty tension in his eyes. "I don't care if she's sick. I don't care if she's dying. I do not care. There are things you are not going to understand because I won't let you! Don't try to fix this."

"You never talked about her-Lena I mean," I say, staring at the tree across the yard. "Why not?" After the adoption, I only asked daddy about Lena once. He said she lived too far away and he didn't feel comfortable with me going to prison at such a young age.

"Let's go."

"I don't want to go."

"Agnes-"

"Daddy." I finally meet his gaze, and he stands up. "My grandma's sick and the aunt I've never met or have talked to is here...I'm going to talk my time saying bye." I get up, jump off the truck and head back for the house.

William

Watching my daughter walk away, I feel like I just took a giant step back. I work my ass off to be the man my daughter deserves, now I'm acting like a fucking child. Since a young age, Agnes has been strong and much older than she seems, she was even able to forgive her birth father, so what the hell is wrong with me?

I can do this for my daughter.

I jump out of my truck, walk across the yard and into the house.

Tisha and Lena are on the couch, their eyes locked on Agnes, who's leaning on the doorframe to the kitchen. Her face lights up when she sees me, then she mouths thank you while I cross the room to her. I nod and gently, playfully hit her arm as I move to her side and face Tisha and Lena. It's been years since I've seen my little sister, she looks so grown. It hurts. She still has that sense of childish hope in her eyes. I take a deep breath.

"How long are you staying for?" Agnes asks Lena, breaking the awkward and intense silence.

"A few days."

This is going to be a long weekend.

"Agnes..." Lena continues, "you  are  gorgeous. Tisha told me you were thirteen, but you must be fif-"

"Thirteen," I snap. I hate it-oh, I fucking hate it when people mistake Agnes' age.

"Daddy," Agnes whispers. I can hear the worry in her small voice-worry of me losing my shit. I haven't snapped like that in years, but Agnes knows I have my limits. And this is definitely pushing my limits. I just hope I can keep my shit together.

"Okay," I whisper back and drop my gaze to my feet.

The room slips into its familiar silence.

"You're...sick?" Agnes says sadly, and I look away.

"Yes," Tisha answers.

"Daddy." Agnes grabs my hand and drags me into the kitchen and to the other side of the room, away from the doorway. "Can I stay?"

My jaw drops, my eyes widen, and I look at her utterly dumbfounded. She said I, not we or even you. "Do you think I wouldn't stay?" I can see her struggling to find an answer. And being the natural asshole that I am, I let her stutter for a bit. "Do you think I wouldn't stay for you?"

"I don't want you to be uncomfortable," she frowns.

Hasn't she learn by now that it's always, always her before me. "I'm going to get the bags from the car." I kiss the top of her head then turn and head for the door.