The Boss's Daughter

07

Eliza's P.O.V.

The sky bursts with hues of orange and pink as we reach our log. I'm surprised we haven't heard my father yelling for me. He's probably way more than furious to say the least.

"I should go," Carl and I say simultaneously.

I smile. "It'll be dark soon."

"Yeah," he agrees. "Same time tomorrow?"

I nod. "Yeah."

He then turns and starts walking away. I raise an eyebrow. Seriously? You're going to just walk away? Oh hell no, Grimes. Not today.

I jog to catch up to him. When I do, I grab his arm and whip him around. I pull him down to connect our lips again. We pull away, and he's confused.

"Don't you dare walk away from me without kissing me first," I say. Then I whisper, "Life's too short." A smile pulls the corners of my mouth up. I've got him now.

He smiles. "Okay."

The whole way home, I think about the kiss. I really wasn't expecting him to agree. I thought he'd be too weirded out by my nerve. He's full of surprises, that's for sure.

He really wasn't bad for it being his first kiss. Especially the second time around. Of course I was only acting when I got all butt hurt. I could tell he was a little at war with himself about something. I was just seeing what he would do. He did take me by surprise with the mini make out session though. I was expecting him to just stop me and try to talk me out of leaving. Carl is going to be a lot of fun.

"And just where the fuck have you been?" Daddy growls when he sees me.

I stop walking and turn to face him. "In the woods," I casually answer. "Where I go every day."

"I specifically told you not to leave these fucking grounds!" He's practically shouting now. See? Way more than furious.

I smirk. "And you actually expected me to listen?"

"I don't like rule-breakers, Eli, I figured you of all fucking people would know that."

I laugh. "You and I both know that you're alright with rule-breakers, so long as it's not your rules that are being broken."

"You watch your tone with me." Damn. Persistent today, isn't he?

"I'm not one of your victims, Daddy," I sass, turning around to go to our house.

"Do not ever turn your back on me, young lady." 'Young lady'? Did he really just pull the young lady card? I could laugh. He actually thinks he's intimidating me.

I roll my eyes, reluctantly turning back around. "What do you want me to do?" I start. "Say I'm sorry? I'm not. 'We don't apologize for any-fuckin-thing,' you said that." I hold my arms out. "So I'm not."

There's a long pause. His head hangs low. Finally, he shakes head, smiling. "You're gonna be the death of me, little darlin'."

I smile back. He hates admitting that I'm right. Which is a problem considering that I'm always right. Ya know, I also think that part of him hates that I'm just like him. Half the time, anyway. He loves that I'm like him in the violent sense, but he hates that I'm like him in that I don't take no for an answer.

Daddy and I butt heads a lot. But we also get along exceptionally well a lot. Sometimes he's the only person I have to talk to. And I him.

We don't have a "normal" daddy-daughter relationship. I mean, aside from that we both get a great deal of enjoyment out of turning brains into mush. No, I'm talking about our conversations. We tell each other everything. With the exception of who the most recent person in our bed was. That would just be weird.

He knows I'm not a virgin though. And he's not weird about it like other dads would be towards their daughters. He treats me more like a son, honestly. Not that I mind. I like our relationship. I'm glad he doesn't treat me like some delicate flower that will disintegrate if you look at it the wrong way. And he didn't raise me to be that way, either. He raised me to be tough-as-nails just like him.

Once when I was in second grade, a boy was making fun of me on the playground, and I punched him in the face for it. My mother was horrified, but my father was probably the most proud of me he'd ever been. "That's my girl!" He'd said.

They fought that night. Momma was saying how I should be taught better manners, while Daddy was saying that I should be praised for standing up for myself and "not taking no shit." "I won't raise a sissy for a daughter!" I heard him say. Their room was right next to mine, so I almost always heard their fights.

They fought a lot. That's why Daddy feels so guilty for her death. He'd never admit that to anyone though. He hasn't even admitted it to me. I just know.

I remind him of her. He says I look just like her. It's hard for me to remember what she looks like sometimes. Then again, I don't like to think about her a lot. I was her world, and she was mine. When I think about her, all I can see is how she looked when she died. That's not how I want to remember her.

I want to remember how beautiful she was. I want to remember how she and I made sand castles on our last family vacation on the beach. How she had written 'I love you' in the sand in front of my father. I want to remember how much they loved each other.

Daddy misses her sometimes. He'll never say it out loud, but he does. Especially when I do something small that she would've done when she was alive. I know he tries not to think about her either. He doesn't have to say so. I know him better than anyone. Even his wives.

And to answer your question, no it does not bother me that my dad has multiple wives. Hell, if there were any guys my age worth talking to in Sanctuary, I'd probably do the same thing. The last attractive teenager worth talking to in Sanctuary was Damon, and we all know how that turned out. Now there are just relatively cute guys with fucking rocks for brains only good for erotic stimulation.

Carl's different though. He's like me. I don't think he realizes how much so, but he is. I'll help him realize. I'll turn him.