Given my dad wants full custody of C.J., he got spooked.

Ergo, I’m trapped here.

Contemplating crawling out the motherfucking window because I’m losing what’s left of my goddamn sanity.

As if on cue, I hear the latch on the door click open.

A moment later my dad walks in, bearing gifts.

“Okay,” he says, gesturing to the two paper bags he’s holding. “I got you gummies and oil.”

Halle-fucking-lujah. About damn time.

Truth be told, I had no intention of touching the stuff once I got out of jail, but CBD is the only thing I’ve found to help reduce my seizures that doesn’t give me a fuckload of shitty side effects.

Fortunately, my doctor agreed and issued me a medical marijuana card.

Unfortunately, my dad didn’t trust me to go to a dispensary by myself—and since it’s legal in California now—he went for me.

“I’ll take a gummy.”

He opens the package. “Just one, Oak.”

“I know, Dad.”

He pins me with a look. “I’m serious. I’m only doing this because your doctor agrees—”

“Got it,” I snap, ripping the gummy out of his hand.

Almost immediately the guilt sets in. My dad’s done a lot for me and I’m being a dick.

“How’s C.J.?”

That puts a smile on his face. “She’s good.” His smile grows. “She’s so smart. This morning she recited her ABC’s when I dropped her off at daycare.”

She definitely inherited her smarts from our dad.

Too bad I can’t say the same.

The only thing I inherited from him was his fondness for Jack Daniels.

“That’s awesome.”

“Yeah, she’s doing this Baby Einstein thing Crystal—” He stops mid-sentence, just like he always does when he mentions her name in front of me.

And yet, I have no one else to blame but myself for making shit so fucking complicated.

Although my dad never blames me for it. He’s too busy taking all his anger out on Crystal.

When I asked him why her instead of me, he said it’s because she was the adult and I was the child.

When I pointed out that I was hardly a child and it was me who made the first move and he has every right to hate me too, he told me he couldn’t ever hate me because I was his kid.

Therefore, his love was unconditional.

No matter how much of a fuck-up I am.

He clears his throat, changing the subject. “I’ll see if I can sneak C.J. by again later so you can see her.”

“I’d like that.”

Sure, she likes to shove tiny fistfuls of her Cheerios into my mouth and has a habit of grabbing my cheeks whenever she wants my attention, but seeing her—even for a few minutes at a time—never fails to put a smile on my face.

“How’s the job search going?” Dad asks, plopping down in a chair across from me.

“The last three I applied for turned me down.”

Just like the first three.

Evidently, just got out of jail looks terrible on a resume.

Digging into the second paper bag, he tosses me a fast-food burger. “Well, I have some good news.”

Raising an eyebrow, I unwrap my burger. “What?”

“I ran into one of my old clients who happens to be the custodial manager at Duke’s Heart, and he said he’s looking to hire someone full-time.” He takes a bite of his own burger. “When I mentioned that my son was looking for work, he told me to have you stop by today so he can interview you for the open janitor position.”

I place my burger down. “Janitor?”

I’m not a pretentious douche but the custodial arts isn’t something I ever imagined partaking in.

Not to mention, Duke’s Heart isn’t exactly a place I want to be.

It’s where she is.

Correction—where they are.

He wipes his mouth with a napkin. “It might not be glitz and glam, but a job is a job—”

“I know,” I say quickly, because he’s right and I’d be a dumbass to turn down the offer. Besides, the campus is huge, so I doubt I’ll run into her. “What time does he want me there?”

“Twelve.” He looks at his watch. “Which means you have thirty minutes to get ready, so finish your burger and hop in the shower.”

I take a bite and swallow. “Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me yet, it’s up to you to get the job.”

I know.

He takes a sip of his soda. “I might have also gotten you an apartment.”

This is news to me. “You did?”

“Don’t get too excited, it’s nothing fancy. Just a studio on the other side of town…but it’s something.” He shoves some fries into his mouth. “I’ve already paid the security deposit and the first month’s rent. You can move in tomorrow.”

A weird feeling spreads through my chest. I’ve never been good at this kind of shit, but I seriously fucking owe him.

“Dad?”

He averts his gaze. “I know, Oak.”

My dad not only saves my ass when I fuck up and puts my life back together afterward, he saves me from having to be gracious about it.

“I’m sorry I hurt you.”

It’s barely a whisper, but I know he hears it because he clears his throat. “There’s still one more thing we have to talk about.”

“What’s that?”

I’m not sure what to make of his expression. “You’ve been seizure-free for a year now.”

“And?”

He huffs out a breath. “You still have sixty days left on your probationary period before they reinstate your driver’s license, but we can apply for a hardship license so you can travel back and forth to work.”

“Not interested,” I quickly tell him.

I have no intention of getting behind the wheel again.

Because the last time I drove…

I killed someone.

He heaves an exasperated sigh. “If you get this job, you’re going to need a reliable form of transportation.”

“I’ll take the bus.”

I take them to my AA meetings every day, I see no reason I can’t take one to and from work.

“What happens if you miss one, wake up late one morning, or they stop running for whatever reason?”

I guzzle my bottle of water and stand. “I’ll wait for the next one.”

“What if you have to work a night shift? Buses don’t run past seven in this town.”

Shit. He has a point.

“I’ll walk.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “It’s ten miles one way.”

I shrug. “I’ll take an Uber.”

“You’re barely going to be making enough to pay for your rent and food. Taking an Uber twice a day is expensive.” He folds his arms across his chest. “I know you’re scared. I get it. But there has to be some kind of compromise—”

“Compromise? Hayley’s dead, Dad.”

“I know,” he says softly. “And as terrible as that is, you can’t keep punishing yourself because you made a mistake. Your life still goes on.”