Justice (Creed Brothers Book 1)

by K. C. Lynn

  It’s on the tip of my tongue to lie to her but I decide against it. “Yes. It’s going to take some time for me to not feel angry anymore but I promise you won’t ever see me get mad like that again.”

  “Do you hate her?” she asks, continuing to look me in the face.

  “No.”

  As much as I want to hate Ryanne, I can’t, not only because of our past but because the little girl sitting in front of me right now makes that impossible.

  “I also want you to know I’m not upset that I have a kid,” I continue, needing her to know this. “I’m upset that I didn’t know about you.” Those last words are harder to get out than I anticipated, that ever-present regret burning in my blood.

  “Does that mean ya want me?” Her wide, hopeful eyes punch me right in the chest with enough force to squeeze the air from my lungs.

  “Yeah,” I breathe out, having a hard time speaking. “I want you, Hannah. I’ve always wanted you, even when I didn’t know about you.”

  She offers me the softest smile, giving me a little hope that I’m not fucking this up too badly.

  “Maybe one day you can forgive Mama.”

  I nod but remain silent, because right now forgiveness seems too far away.

  Before either of us can say more, Ryanne steps outside carrying two glasses of sweet tea. “I’ll set these here for you guys.” She doesn’t look at me, using her hair to shield her face but the emotion in her voice tells me she’s been listening to our conversation.

  “Thanks, Mama.”

  “I’ll be inside if you need anything.” Kissing Hannah’s head, she walks back into the house without sparing me a glance.

  Hannah takes a sip of her drink then puts it back down next to her and looks at me expectantly. “So what now?”

  Blatant and to the point, another thing I respect.

  “Now, I give you this.” I hand her the gift bag, my nerves spiking again.

  Excitement dances in her eyes as she takes it from me and wastes no time digging into the bag. Her small gasp fills the air when she pulls out the lion, hugging it to her chest. “A Beanie Boo!”

  The happiness in her voice sends relief coursing through me. “The lady at the store told me they’re popular.”

  “Yes, sir. I have three but they are the small ones because the big ones cost too much money.”

  Misplaced guilt plagues me as I wonder, not for the first time, how Ryanne has been managing to support herself and our daughter all these years. I would have taken care of them if given half the chance, and to think my daughter was denied anything because of it only adds to the deep-seated anger burning inside of me.

  “My friend Gemma has thirty,” Hannah continues, envy strong in her voice. “One day I’m gonna have that many, too. I’ve been collectin’.”

  I knew I should have bought the whole damn rack. She would have had more than Gemma. I should have never listened to that lady.

  “What’s its name?” she asks me.

  “Um…” I try to come up with one but none come to mind. “What do you want to call it?”

  “The name is on its butt, silly,” she tells me, giggling, “but I can’t read.” She flips the lion over, flashing me its ass.

  “Oh.” I step forward, feeling like an asshole, and read the name stitched on the bottom. “Nacho.”

  What kind of fucking name is that?

  “Nacho, I love it!”

  A good name, I guess.

  She starts petting his mane. “I’ve never owned a lion before. He even matches my room.”

  “Your room is pink?” I ask, digging for any information about her. Things that I should already know but have been denied the privilege.

  “Yes, do you want to come see it?”

  “Yeah, I would.”

  I want to know everything about her. Her likes and dislikes, her talent, what she loves to do. I want to know every single thing about her, but for now, I’ll start with seeing her room.

  “Come on,” she says, skipping into the house.

  I follow her inside to see Ryanne jump back from the window, pretending to busy herself when she’s obviously been spying.

  “We’re goin’ to my room, Mama!” Hannah tells her, racing up the hardwood stairs.

  “Okay. I’ll be…down here.” She trails off, fidgeting nervously.

  My eyes meet hers as I climb the steps, our gazes locking, and the past begins to emerge one memory at a time. Not that they have ever strayed far from my mind but for the past twenty-four hours I haven’t been able to see past my anger until now. The turbulent emotions I feel when it comes to her throws me off and I don’t fucking like it.

  Once she’s out of view, I follow Hannah into a small pink room with a white bed, dresser, and nightstand. In the corner is a little white table and chair set with a pink tea set.

  “I have a feeling your favorite color is pink.”

  She giggles, the beautiful sound inflating my chest. “Yeah, one of them.” She places the lion down on her bed next to a doll she has sitting there and three of the other small stuffed animals she was telling me about. “Meet Icicle, Butter, and Kipper. Guys, this is Nacho.”

  I smirk, amused by her introduction. My eyes wander over her bedroom as she gets them situated and I come across a picture on her nightstand that has every muscle tensing in my body.

  Walking over, I pick up the frame, the picture of me on my bike was taken when I was unaware.

  “Mama gave that to me,” she whispers, peering at me somberly. “So I would know what you look like and I could say good night to you.”

  Anger tightens my chest, passing back and forth like a ball of fire. She shouldn’t have had to say good night to a fucking picture, and I should have been able to say good night to her in return.

  All moments I will never get back.

  Pulling myself together, I put the picture back down and turn to her. “You like the zoo, Hannah?”

  She doesn’t miss a beat at the sudden change of topic. “Yes, sir. I’ve only been one time but I liked it a lot. Mama took me for one of my birthdays.”

  Her answer only serves to drive this overwhelming resentment deeper inside of me. There’s so much I need to make up for.

  “Would you like to go with me?” I ask.

  Her eyes widen. “Right now?”

  I smirk. “No. It’s too late for that, but maybe this weekend?”

  “She’s free this weekend,” Ryanne speaks up, entering the doorway. “Would you like to go, Hannah?”

  She nods at her mother then brings her attention back to me. “Will I get to see you before then?”

  “I’ll be back every night to see you,” I tell her, not bothering to ask Ryanne. I won’t ask to see my daughter.

  She smiles, seeming content with that answer.

  “I’ll let you get to bed then but I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Okay.”

  I hesitate, not ready to leave her yet but know it’s for the best, especially with the bitterness clawing away at me. “Good night, Hannah.”

  “Good night,” she whispers.

  I head down the stairs, regret searing my veins.

  “I’ll be right back,” Ryanne says, coming down behind me.

  I don’t slow my hurried steps, anger pushing me forward.

  “Justice, wait,” she calls, following me outside.

  “Not now, Ryanne!”

  “Please, just one minute.”

  I turn on her, my chest heaving with the rage threatening to explode. “What do you want? Say it so I can get the fuck out of here.”

  She swallows thickly, emotion welling in her eyes that I feel no remorse for. “I’m sorry. I know this is hard for you.”

  “You don’t have a fucking clue how hard this is for me. How painful it is to know that five years of my daughter’s life have passed and I’m here trying to arrange visits with a fucking stranger!”

  “You can come see her as much as you want,” she chokes out, tears streaki
ng down her cheeks.

  “You’re damn right I can and not because you said I could. I have rights, Ryanne, ones you will no longer deny me.”

  Without another word, I climb into my truck and peel away, clinging to the rage festering in my gut because it’s a hell of a lot easier than acknowledging the pain in my chest.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Ryanne

  I watch his truck disappear into the night, the deep hurt in his eyes torturing my battered heart. Watching him try to interact with Hannah tonight was hard. He looked so torn, so…uncertain, and this is a man who has never been uncertain about a thing in his life. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to forgive myself. I can’t blame Justice if he doesn’t either.

  Wiping my tears away, I head back into the house and climb up the stairs to find Hannah sitting on her bed, holding her lion and looking at her father’s picture. She too looks a little lost and uncertain.

  “Hey,” I speak quietly, trying to keep my emotion in check.

  “Hey, Mama.”

  I walk further inside and take a seat next to her on the bed. “How are you feeling?”

  She shrugs. “Okay.”

  “Did you enjoy your visit with him?”

  “I guess. We didn’t spend much time together.” The disappointment in her voice tugs at my aching heart. She wanted more time but I could tell Justice was close to losing his temper again, especially after seeing the picture.

  “It was quick,” I agree, “but he will be back tomorrow and I’m sure he will stay a little longer. Maybe you can come up with some things you guys can do together.”

  “Like what?” she asks.

  I shrug. “Why don’t you make a list? You could share what some of your favorite things are. Like your favorite food or movie.”

  “That’s a good idea.” She smiles, more hopeful than she was a second ago. “Will you help me write them all out?”

  “Of course, but in the morning, okay? Right now we need to get you ready for bed.”

  We head into the hall bathroom where she brushes her teeth and washes up. I smile as I watch her do it all on her own, unbelieving how fast time goes by. It feels like just yesterday she was sleeping in my arms as I sang to her while she took her bottle.

  At only five years old she is more mature than most kids her age. She’s confident, independent, and has a fire in her soul like I’ve only ever seen in one person…

  I let that thought trail off before I’m overwhelmed with guilt once again. Once she finishes, I get her back in bed and under the covers. She reaches for her lion, hugging it close to her small chest.

  “It sure was nice of him to give you this special gift,” I say, leaning over to touch the stuffed animal.

  “Oh yes. I love Nacho!” Her face transforms into a smile that lights up the whole room but it fades quickly. “I’m excited to go to the zoo with him but a little scared, too.”

  “That’s normal. I’ll bet he’s nervous, too.”

  “I don’t know ’bout that,” she says, “I don’t think he’s scared of anythin’.”

  I used to think the same thing but tonight I saw differently. Tonight, I saw emotions I have never seen from him as he looked at our daughter. If anyone can break through his barriers, I have no doubt that it’s the little girl in front of me. She has a light about her that makes it impossible not to change people.

  “It’ll be good. You’ll see.” After the reassurance, I lean down, brushing a kiss on her cheek. “Good night.”

  “Night, Mama.” She turns on her side and faces Justice’s picture next. “Night, Daddy,” she whispers.

  The tears I’ve been keeping in tumble down my cheeks. I turn before she can see them and move for the door but what she says next stops me cold.

  “He doesn’t hate you, ya know. He even told me so.”

  My eyes close as I swallow the lump in my throat. For her benefit, I turn around and offer her the best smile I can manage. “I know. Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”

  She nods but doesn’t seem convinced.

  “Good night,” I say again before walking out the door and closing it behind me. My back rests against it as I release a painful breath.

  Eventually, I head downstairs to make myself some tea, needing something to warm the coldness that’s taken up residence inside of me. I sit in the living room, holding the hot mug, and look around the tiny farm house I’ve been renting for the last six years. As thankful as I am to Thatcher for helping me find it, I can’t help but wonder where I would be now if that night all those years ago went differently. It’s something I often think about.

  What if that girl hadn’t been at Justice’s apartment when I showed up and it was just the two of us and I could have told him everything? Where would we all be now? Would he have left town with me? Or would he have forced me to stay?

  I have no doubt it would have been the latter. Justice doesn’t run from anything, and as cowardly as I may be for doing it, Hannah and I have lived a much more peaceful life for it. No accusing stares from the prominent people in that town, something I refuse to ever subject my daughter to.

  Then there’s Derek. The thought of him has a shiver running down my spine as I remember that fateful night. The night I saw him for the monster he really is and how close he came to stealing my body from me, one that had my baby growing inside of it.

  He’s the mayor of Winchester now, something that didn’t surprise me in the least when Thatcher told me. He’s been groomed for that position from the time he was born. It’s how the founding families keep control of that town, making sure all their people end up in the right positions. If you threaten any part of that they will eliminate you.

  It’s a very big reason why I left. My parents would have seen Hannah as a threat, not the blessing she is. She would have ruined their precious reputation, which is exactly why I will never return to that town. No matter what, I will protect her from that kind of evil.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Justice

  I pull up to Ryanne’s the next day with another gift in hand, this time a single pink rose. It’s the first time I’ve ever bought flowers. I felt as lost in that store as I do with my own daughter and I fucking hate it. She deserves more from me but I don’t know how to give it to her.

  Ryanne steps out onto the porch, stopping me mid stride. My eyes travel down the length of her, admiring what I’ve been too angry to acknowledge. Her auburn hair is swept up in a mess on top of her head, a few stray pieces clinging to the sides of her pretty face that has matured over the years to being even more beautiful. Her short black sundress is loose against her body but does nothing to conceal the curves I know she possesses beneath it.

  The summer heat leaves a dampness to her fair skin, reminding me what it felt like on mine when I was pounding into her, making her scream my name. Just a month before she disappeared, taking my daughter with her.

  The reminder is like a bucket of cold water, dousing the flames of desire.

  “Where’s Hannah?” I ask, forgoing any kind of greeting.

  The flash of hurt in her eyes bothers me more than I care to admit. “She’s coming. You can have a seat on the swing. Unless you want to come in and…” Her words trail off when I climb up the steps and walk toward the swing. “O-kay,” she mumbles.

  Like yesterday, I remain standing and lean against the railing while I wait.

  “You want something to drink?” she asks, continuing to be polite.

  The only response I give her is a shake of my head. I’m too pissed off for any civility at the moment.

  She grinds her teeth, chin jutting out, and it gives me a small amount of satisfaction to get the reaction out of her. I selfishly want her to feel the same anger and pain that she has triggered inside of me.

  She finally decides to give up and walks back inside, the bottom of her dress teasing the tops of her creamy thighs as she stomps away. My fingers twitch with the urge to pull the material over her hips, bend her over this r
ailing, and fuck all the resentment I have for her out of my system. Maybe then I’ll be able to have a conversation with her.

  Blowing out a breath, I run a hand through my hair and pull myself together. My daughter is my only concern right now. Once I figure things out with her then I’ll deal with Ryanne.

  As if my thoughts summoned her, the screen door squeaks open and out steps Hannah, looking as beautiful and perfect as I left her last night. She comes to a stop just a few feet away, holding some papers in her hands and looking as nervous as I feel.

  “Hi,” I greet her first.

  “Hi,” she whispers, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear.

  Unsure of where to start, I hand her the rose.

  Her smile penetrates my chest, banishing the anger I felt only moments ago. She steps forward and takes it from me. “Thank you. I’ve never gotten a flower before.”

  “It’s a first for both of us then because I’ve never bought one before.”

  The admission only seems to please her further. “I have something for you, too.” She hands me one of the pieces of paper in her hand.

  Surprised, I take it and stare down at the colorful drawing. It’s of two stick people holding hands. A tall person and a little person, their necks longer than their bodies. They stand next to what I’m assuming is a motorbike but it’s hard to tell. A rainbow is colored in the blue sky, with grass, hills, and birds scattered over the page. At the bottom is scribbled, Love Hannah.

  It’s the most perfect mess I’ve ever seen.

  “You made this for me?” I ask, my voice gruffer than I expected.

  “Yes, sir. It’s a picture of me and you.”

  I continue to stare down at it, unable to find the right words for what I’m feeling.

  “I was going to write it to you but I wasn’t sure what to call you,” she says, the words trailing off on a whisper.

  My eyes snap to hers and I hate the uncertainty I find there. Crouching down, I bring myself to her level. “Our situation is a little different than most, isn’t it?”

  She nods.

  “What do you want to call me?”

  She answers with a shrug but it doesn’t reflect the answer in her eyes.