by K. C. Lynn
“What have you always called me?”
“Daddy.”
The word strikes me right in the fucking chest, reaching places I never knew existed and places I thought were gone forever. “Good. That’s what I want you to call me because that’s who I am.”
She smiles, satisfied with that answer.
“I know we have a lot to sort out,” I tell her. “But never second-guess who I am to you. I’m your father and I’m not going anywhere. Okay?”
She nods then holds up the other piece of paper she has in her hand. “Mama helped me write a list of my favorite things so we could get to know each other better. Would you like to hear them?”
“Yes, I would.”
I want to know every second of her life. Every single detail.
We take a seat on the swing and she scoots close to me. So close that her small leg presses against mine, the light touch triggering an array of emotions to thunder inside of me.
“I remember most of it but you might have to help me read a little,” she says, scratching her small cheek.
“No problem.”
“My favorite color is pink, which you already know,” she starts, sparing me a glance that I nod to. “My favorite food is ice cream. Even though Mama says it’s not real food.”
I smirk. “What flavor?”
“Strawberry most of the time but I like chocolate, too.”
“Good choices.”
“What’s yours?” she asks, peering up at me.
It takes me a moment to think of an answer. “Chocolate, I guess.”
“You don’t sound very sure of yourself.”
I chuckle, amused by the way she calls me out, not many people would. “I don’t eat much of it. That’s why.”
She nods and looks back down at her paper. “I love listening to Taylor Swift. She sings some of my favorite songs. Do you know her?”
“I know of her but I haven’t listened to her music before.”
“Who do you listen to?”
I shrug. “I like a lot of stuff but AC/DC is my favorite.”
“I don’t know them.”
I grin. “I’m not surprised. They’re a bit older.”
She passes me her pen. “Could you write one of their songs down please so I can listen to it later?”
“Sure.” I take the pen from her and write down “Thunderstruck,” trying to remember if there is swearing or not. Hopefully it’s the latter.
“Thanks. My favorite is ‘Shake It Off’ if you want to listen to it.”
“Uh, okay.”
She looks down, moving on to the next item on her list. “My favorite movie is Brave. She’s also my favorite princess because she knows how to shoot a bow and arrow and kick major butt.”
My brow lifts. “You like bow and arrows, huh?”
“Yes, sir.”
Now we’re getting somewhere.
“I have a plastic one because Mama won’t let me have a real one. She said they are too dangerous.”
“They can be if not used properly.”
“Do you know how to use one?” she asks.
“Yeah. Sometime I’ll show you how.”
“You mean it?” she asks, her eyes lighting up every dark place inside of me.
“Yeah. I mean it.”
“That’s great! If I can learn that and ride a horse I could be just like Merida.”
I have no idea who this “Merida” chick is but I have no doubt she is not as cool as the girl sitting next to me.
She continues down the line, telling me everything from her favorite book, to all the things she loves to do. I hang on every word, entranced by the information she shares. It’s exactly what I’ve needed—to know my daughter.
Two hours pass before Ryanne steps outside, regretfully telling Hannah it’s time to get ready for bed.
“Aw, man!” Her disappointment resembles my own. She looks up at me, her eyes hopeful. “You gonna be back tomorrow?”
“Every night,” I promise.
“Cool. I’ll think of more questions for us.”
“Sounds good.”
She stands and faces me awkwardly, silence filling the air between us.
My hands fist at my sides, a war battling within me on whether to pull her in for a hug or not. In the end I refrain, not wanting to fuck up this newfound place we have found ourselves in.
“Bye,” she mumbles quietly.
“Bye.”
She turns to walk away, only making it a few steps before she spins back around and runs toward me. I kneel down just in time to take her in my arms, engulfing her small body as she hugs my neck.
“Good night, Daddy,” she whispers.
It takes everything in me to keep my emotions in check, my entire world tilting on its axis. “Good night, Hannah.”
I make no move to let her go, soaking up every second I can and attempt to make up for all the lost years. When I can no longer stall, I ease my hold and she walks back inside, leaving me with an emptiness I’ve never felt.
Ryanne looks at me, regret in her eyes, but it doesn’t even come close to the one gripping my chest. “Will you wait out here for me? I have something I want to show you.”
I nod, mainly because I feel like I can’t move. I’m anchored to my spot, knowing after that hug I’ll never be the same again.
*
Ryanne
After I finish tucking Hannah in, I walk out of her room, my heart full from listening to her excitedly ramble about her visit with Justice. I’m so proud of her for being brave and making that first move with him. You could tell he wanted to do it but he didn’t know how. The longing in his eyes had broken my heart, which is why I asked for him to wait for me. I want to give him something that won’t make up for the pain I have caused, but will maybe help fill some holes for him.
Grabbing the book that I left sitting on the bench near the front door, I walk outside, my hands practically shaking with nerves. After his cold reception when he first got here, I’m unsure how well this will go.
His head snaps up at my approach and my heart pinches in my chest at the tormented expression on his face.
“It sounds like y’all had a good night together,” I start quietly.
He nods but says nothing else.
Steeling my nerves, I hand him the album. “It’s Hannah’s baby book. I thought you might want to look at it.”
He takes it from me, staring down at the soft yellow gingham cover.
“Everything is documented in there, along with pictures. Even a lock of hair from her first haircut.”
He opens it to the first page and reads her full birth name and weight:
Hannah Justice Creed
Born July 28, 2013
5lbs. 2oz.
His fingers brush over her middle name. “So that’s what the J stands for.”
“Yes.”
Since he didn’t get to be there to help pick her name it was my way of making him a part of it. I personally love it. It’s fitting and the whole reason why Thatcher calls her Hannah J.; it’s his way of keeping Justice in our lives, too.
The next page is a picture of me just days before my delivery. Thatcher had come by to check in and we went for a walk in a nearby field. While I felt like a whale, huffing and puffing as I trudged through the weeds, he snapped this picture, telling me there was nothing more beautiful than a woman carrying a child. I called him a liar that day and laughed, until I saw this photograph.
It’s my most favorite picture of myself. The sun had been shining so bright, catching the red and gold in my auburn hair and dancing along my skin. The long, white maxi dress I wore complemented the moment perfectly. Even though I was terrified for what my future held, I look like I was right where I was always meant to be. Ready to start the next chapter of my life with my precious baby girl.
Justice flips to a photo of Hannah when she was first born, she hadn’t even been bathed yet.
“She was so small,” he murmurs, touching the
picture.
Bravely, I sit next to him on the swing, leaving a good distance between us. “I had her earlier than expected. She was small but she was fierce.”
“Why did she come early?” he asks.
“I had high blood pressure and it caused me to go into early labor. They did everything they could to stop it but Hannah was determined to make her debut early so I had to have an emergency C-section.”
He finally looks over at me, his dark eyes meeting mine. “What does that mean?”
“She was surgically removed.” I smile at the panic on his face. “It happens more often than you think. It’s a simple procedure. Just a longer healing process.”
He looks back down at the book, his thoughts hard to decipher. He turns to the next page and stills at the photo of Thatcher holding Hannah. Silence fills the air, his body rigid.
“He’s been trying to call you,” I whisper.
“Don’t,” he grits. “I’m not discussing my father with you.”
Swallowing nervously, I stupidly ignore his warning and push on. “I know you’re angry, Justice.”
A bitter laugh escapes him. “Angry is a fucking understatement.”
“I get it but this isn’t his fault. He tried to get me to tell you.”
He slams the book down between us, making me jump, and pushes to his feet. “Then why the fuck didn’t you? You had six years, Ryanne!”
“Because I was scared,” I tell him, speaking past the emotion threatening to consume me. “By the time I had her and with every month that passed, I only became more fearful. I was worried about your reaction. Terrified you would make us go back there, something I couldn’t do. I still can’t.”
Now that I have voiced it out loud, I decide to lay it all on the line. The one sacrifice I will not make.
“I can’t go back to Winchester, Justice. Not with my family and everyone else there.”
“What about my fucking family?”
“Your brothers are welcome here anytime to see her.”
“They shouldn’t have to travel hours to see her. They shouldn’t have to make appointments and neither should I. I’ve spoken to a lawyer. I have rights too, damn it!”
My blood runs cold at the admission, fear wrapping around my heart like a deadly snake. “You spoke to a lawyer?”
“Of course I did. What the hell was I supposed to do?”
“Are you planning to fight for custody?” The question barely makes it past the panic restricting my throat.
Terror thrashes through my veins when he remains silent, his expression hard as granite.
“Answer me!”
He shakes his head. “I’m not doing this with you. Not now.” He turns his back on me and starts down the stairs, heading for his truck.
It sends me to my feet and I race down the rickety steps after him. “Don’t you dare threaten me and walk away, Justice Creed!” When he doesn’t slow his strides, I jump in front of him, my fists striking out against his chest. “You will not take my daughter! Do you hear me?”
The pain, fear, and anger all explode at once. Tears soak my face as I lash out, my fists colliding with his chest. He grips my wrists and pins my thrashing body against his truck. Before I can anticipate his next move, his mouth slams down on mine, dominating it in ways only he can.
My struggle comes to a stop and I gasp, the earth rocking beneath my feet. He uses the opportunity to thrust his tongue inside, taking what he wants, infecting my heart like no one else ever has. The kiss is furious and punishing, stoking the fire and fury between us. His potent taste, the one I’ve never forgotten, settles deep into my bones.
My fingers fist his hair as I match every angry stroke he delivers. His strong thigh wedges between my legs as he keeps my arms pinned above my head, pressing against the one spot that sends shock waves through my body.
My hips lift, pussy grinding as I greedily reach for that mind-numbing pleasure.
It’s been so long—too long.
The orgasm washes over me like a hurricane, flooding every nerve ending in my body. I drown in it, crying against his mouth, too lost in it all to be embarrassed by the quick thrill.
He grips my jaw with one hand and forces my head back against his truck, his teeth sinking into my bottom lip with a sharp bite. The metallic taste of blood touches my tongue before he pulls his mouth away.
His furious face hovers before mine, eyes wild with lust but the anger is still there, just as prominent as before. “We could have been so good, Ryanne.”
My lungs heave for air as I gaze up at him, heart beating painfully with every breath I take. “Just us or your brothers, too?”
His jaw tightens. “You know better than that.”
“The hell I do,” I counter. “We both made choices, Justice. Ones we have to live with. I’ll accept responsibility for mine but it’s time you accept yours. How do you think I felt when I showed up to your apartment to tell you I was pregnant only to find you and your brothers fucking that girl.” The pain that memory brings slices me as deeply as it did all those years ago.
“I never touched her.”
The truth staring back at me shocks my very being. “But…you weren’t dressed. You—”
“Was just getting out of the shower,” he finishes for me. “Something you would have known had you stuck around to let me explain.”
My eyes close briefly, the clarification evoking a storm of emotions. “Even still, it doesn’t change our circumstance. I will not raise my daughter in a town where everyone questions who her father is. Where she will have to hear the whispers and the rumors.”
He glares down at me but I don’t let him speak, anger igniting within me once more.
“If you think you’re going to take her from me then you better be ready, because the enemies you put a bullet in will seem like fucking saints compared to the fight I will bring you.”
He smirks, amused by the threat. “Is that so?”
“Damn straight it is.”
His large body crowds me further, hard face dipping next to mine. I hold my ground, refusing to cower to his intimidation tactic.
“As much as I would love to make you hurt the way you have me, I love my daughter more. But hear me now, Ryanne. You are not calling the shots any longer. She’s my kid too and I will take what belongs to me.” His fingers brush my swollen lips. “All of it.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Justice
By the time Saturday rolls around, I’m more than ready to spend a full day with my daughter. Each visit has gotten a little easier and things are more comfortable between us but we’re still far from where I want to be.
She can talk for hours, which is perfect because I could listen to her for that long and never get bored. I’ve come to realize we have more in common than I first thought. She was enraptured when I explained my job to her. At least the kid version of it because how do you explain to a child you shoot people for a living, even if it’s for the sake of your country. She was so captivated by it she even asked if I would show her how to shoot one day. I couldn’t have been prouder in that moment.
I’ll make sure she grows up knowing exactly how to protect herself, just like Thatcher taught all of us. Although, if the need ever did arise that she needed protection, the threat would be eliminated before she even had a chance to take care of it herself. I’d make certain of it.
After our long talks, she leaves me with a hug, one I feel for the rest of the night. Every one is burrowed deep into my heart, making me long for that moment when I will get another one.
Things between Ryanne and I are still tense. We’ve barely spoken. Other than exchanging numbers, she has stayed out of my way and I hers. She hasn’t asked me to stay late again, not after the last time.
The image of her fucking my leg and coming apart has haunted me every night since. I was an asshole to her and I know it, but I also meant every word I said. She is not calling the shots any longer. Hannah is my child too and I will have a say in
our future. She has denied me of that privilege long enough.
I’ve thought a lot about what she said, especially about the part of not wanting Hannah in Winchester because of the talk that circulates about my brothers and me. Personally, I think it’s bullshit. Yes, we have a reputation, but the people who talk shit are the ones who know nothing about us and I’ll be damned if I let them affect my family, especially my daughter.
I have no intention of uprooting Hannah right away, not with school almost being done for summer, but Winchester is not out of the question like Ryanne thinks it is. I will be patient, but only for so long.
My brothers want to meet her and I want that, too. Eventually, I want to return home with my entire family, including Ryanne. When the time is right, I will broach the subject again but no lawyers will be involved. One way or another, Ryanne and I will work this out.
Hannah’s smiling face in the window is the first thing I see when I pull up to the house. She bulldozes out the door as I climb out of the truck, her excitement palpable.
“Hi, Daddy, I’m ready!”
Hearing that name fall past her lips punches me in the chest every fucking time. I will never tire of hearing it, even if it scares the living shit out of me.
She has a small backpack on and holds a CD in her hands. “Mama packed us snacks and water. I also brought my Taylor Swift CD since you haven’t had a chance to listen to it yet.”
Before I can say a word, Ryanne comes barreling out of the house. “Hannah J. Creed,” she yells, her hands on her hips. “What am I, chop liver? Can I have a hug goodbye?”
Hannah giggles. “Sorry, Mama. I got excited.” She runs up the porch and jumps into her arms.
Ryanne hugs her close, her eyes closing as pain washes over her face. It’s obvious this is harder on her than she’s letting on, something I should be happy about but for some reason I’m not.
“I love you,” she whispers. “Have fun, okay?”
“Don’t worry, we will.”
Once she puts Hannah down, her eyes find mine. “Do you know how long you’ll be gone for?”
“I’ll have her home before dinner.”
She nods and looks like she wants to say more but doesn’t. Instead, she flashes our daughter a smile and walks back inside. My eyes follow her every step until she disappears.
