Just One Kiss, Please Daddy

Chapter 15

Ford’s POV

When we didn’t find Livia yesterday, I knew there was something awfully wrong. It’s only cemented when Nadine calls me during lunch.

“We were supposed to have a quiz. Livia didn’t show up. Something’s off, Dad.”

“Find her real address and her home number,” I told her.

And that’s what she did.

That’s what led us here.

As I pull up at the house marked in Livia’s school records, everything makes sense. Why she asks to be dropped off at a different neighborhood. Why she’s so secretive about everything. The reason Nadine and I found nothing when we circled the entire neighborhood looking for her yesterday.

The houses in this neighborhood are much smaller. The lawns more unkempt, if there’s even a space to call lawns. Driveways blend into each other because of the lack of space. The smell of burning garbage fills the air. I can see a couple of people huddled around some kind of barbecue. The streets are pockmarked.

“This place….” Nadine trails off. “I can’t believe she lives here and never told me.”

I know why Livia never spoke about it.

This is obviously a bad neighborhood.

All the signs aren’t great.

We drive slow. Some residents who are out on their broken porches start to look at my car like they’re already taking it apart in their minds. Lots of old people. Sagging white skin. Beady eyes almost blinking in the light of the sinking sun.

Finally, we arrive at the address. House 141.

I make the call.

When I hear Livia’s voice, Nadine and I both light up. Only to have that light snuffed out when a gruff, disrespectful man takes charge.

I just know that I need to get it over with.

“I’m outside. I need to talk to your daughter.” With that, I end the call and turn to Nadine. “Stay in the car. Don’t open the window.”

Some residents open their windows. Some of them straight up peek out.

I ignore them all and walk up the stairs of the house.

Even from outside, I can already say that it’s in great disrepair. The wooden floorboards nearly give way under my weight. The smell of damp, infested wood is obvious. Peeling paint. Broken windows bound with tape.

Still, I knock on the door.

No one answers.

I knock again. This time louder. More forceful.

“Who the f**k is that?” someone yells from inside.

I can’t tell if they’re talking directly to me or about me.

I just keep knocking.

Finally, the door opens.

The first thing that greets me is the smell of cigarettes and alcohol. The man who opened the door stands in front of me, shiny with sweat, staining right through his sleeveless shirt. His fleshy arms are covered in bad tattoos. He only has a few strands of hair on his head, and still he combs them to the side like some kind of mafia boss.

He stomps out his cigarette and c***s his chin at me. He’s half a foot shorter, yet he acts like he can beat me.

This must be Livia’s father.

Suddenly I remember the bruises. The anger that I’ve been keeping coiled starts to come up, but I swallow it back down.

“Where is Livia?” I ask, refusing to beat around the bush. “I would like to see her. I know she lives here. She answered earlier?”

“She’s still at school, I don’t know what you’re taking about,” he lies. Effortless. I can tell he does it a lot. “You her teacher or something?”

I figure that he won’t give me any kind of weight if I just say that I’m the father of Livia’s best friend. So I say, “I’m the school counselor.”

His face goes slack, but he quickly recovers with a smile and stands aside to let me in. “Sir. Welcome to our home. It’s a little messy.”

I step in. Messy is an understatement. The floor is littered with bits of food and wrappers. The smell of alcohol and stale cigarettes is thick in the air.

“I’m David, by the way.” He holds his hand out to shake mine.

“Ford,” I just say, taking his hand and shaking it briefly.

“I’m sorry for saying that Livia is at school,” he suddenly says. “The truth is, she called the day off because she fell yesterday then she woke up sick. It’s awful.”

I ignore all that, knowing that it’s not true. “Where is she? I want to check in on her.”

David stiffens. “She’s in her room. Resting. She can’t entertain visitors right now, I’m afraid. She’s been in bed all day.”

Another lie. “She did answer the phone, though. Unless that was someone else?”

I have him cornered. A thin sheen of sweat covers his forehead. “She was….”

“I would like to talk to her. Where is her room?”

Knowing that I’m not just about to let him off the hook, he glances at the room upstairs, at the left side of the hallway. For a moment it seems that he’s still going to push closer to denial, but in the end, he just clears his throat and says, “Livia. Dear, someone is here to see you.”

Somehow I know that ‘dear’ is not something he says a lot.

When no one answers, he immediately says, “Let me go up there and check on her—”

“No, I’ll do it.”

Not giving him any chance to say no or even do anything about it, I make my way up the stairs and knock on the door with flower stickers.

Slowly, the door opens.

Livia peeks out.

Her eyes are wide, fearful. She’s wrapped head to toe. Sweaters, thick pajamas, socks. There are bags under her eyes and her cheeks look more sunken than usual. She looks tired, hungry, and hurt.

The happiness that swells in my heart upon seeing her immediately changes into concern.

“May I come in?” I ask her in a low voice.

She glances at David down the stairs and slowly nods.

I close the door behind me. Her room is small. Her bed looks like it’s been repaired many times, so does her wardrobe. Still, it’s neat. Taken care of. But there’s no denying the heartbreaking lack of anything else other than the basics. No warmth. No love. Just like the rest of the house.

“Why didn’t you go to school?” I ask. “Why did you disappear yesterday afternoon?”

“I fell and I got sick,” Livia says without meeting my gaze. “I’m sorry.”

It all sounds so rehearsed, like David is still breathing down her neck.

“No need to be sorry. I just want to know the truth. Is he hurting you?”

Livia’s head snaps up. She smiles, but it’s devoid of joy. “Of course not. I’m good here.”

The biggest lie of the night.

“Livia.”

I can’t help it. I reach for her face and cup it with both hands, imploring her to look at me.

“Tell me the truth. If you’re in any danger, now is the right time to tell me… because I will do everything in my power to take you away.”