by K. C. Lynn
“Ready?” Hannah asks, pulling my attention back to her.
“Yeah, come on.”
I walk her over to the passenger side with the intention of helping her up but she does it on her own, though not without struggle. “Man, this is a big truck,” she says, huffing and puffing as she gets situated.
Smirking, I lean over and buckle her in, making sure she’s nice and secure. After I close the door and climb in on my side, she immediately passes me the CD. “Number seven is my favorite.”
I stare down at it for a long moment before reluctantly taking it and placing it into the player that I’ve never even used. I prefer silence when I drive.
A fast tempo fills the truck, shit that I would never listen to blaring from the speakers. If my brothers could see me now they would have a fucking laugh.
However, as I watch my daughter next to me, smiling from ear to ear and tapping her leg to the beat as she tries to out sing the artist, I know without a doubt it’s worth the sacrifice of my pride.
There is no conversation for over half the drive, mainly because she’s too busy singing, something I’m content to listen to, even if it’s to this kind of music.
“Do you smoke?” she asks mid song, looking over at me with her nose scrunched up.
“Yeah, why?”
“Because your truck smells like it.”
I hoped I had aired it out enough but I guess not.
“It’s not very healthy for you, ya know.”
“Neither is ice cream,” I say, grinning over at her.
“True.” She nods. “But ice cream doesn’t kill you.”
I refrain from telling her we’re all going to die one day so may as well do what we enjoy. Smoking is a habit I picked up before I even entered that hell they called a group home. It calms me, soothes the beast that haunts me on the darkest nights. Never once have I ever questioned it…until now.
I glance over at Hannah who continues to watch me. “Does it bother you?”
She shrugs. “I just don’t want you to die, especially since we just found each other.”
My chest tightens at the admission. “You don’t need to worry about that. I’m not going anywhere.”
It will take a lot more than cigarettes to ever keep me from her.
For now, she seems satisfied with that answer, but I guess the habit is something I will have to be more careful with.
It takes about twenty minutes before we arrive at the zoo. After climbing out, I help Hannah down and watch piles of people walk through the entrance while she puts her backpack on again.
To have my daughter around this many people makes me fucking nervous. You never know who or what kind of enemy walks among them.
“Stay next to me at all times, okay?” I tell her.
She nods then reaches up and wraps her tiny fingers around mine. I look down at our joined hands, her small one engulfed by my large one, and become plagued with emotions I can’t name.
My fingers grip hers as I cling not only to her hand but this moment, this one defining moment that means nothing to the average parent but is completely life changing for me.
We walk up to the gates to purchase our tickets then I pull Hannah to the side where the maps are, feeling completely lost. “Where to first?” I ask.
“The monkeys!”
We head in the direction of the rainforest, weaving in and out of the crowd.
Hannah’s eyes are wide; smile even bigger as she takes in our surroundings. “Over there are the lions.” She points. “Want to go there after?”
“Whatever you want. This is your day.”
“Our day,” she corrects me.
I nod. “Our day.”
We enter a building that is thick with humidity and filled with vegetation.
“Look, up there in that tree!” Releasing my hand, she runs up to the glass where a bunch of other kids are standing, her eyes riveted to the ape that jumps from branch to branch. “And look down here, too.” She points below where a gorilla holds its baby. “Aren’t they amazin’?” she whispers, her hands pressed against the window.
“Yeah.” My answer has nothing to do with the animals and everything to do with the little girl standing before me.
Pulling my phone out, I snap a picture, wanting to freeze this moment and keep it forever. I also send it to Ryanne, unable to get her sad eyes out of my mind since leaving her.
My phone dings back not even a minute later.
Ryanne: Thank you, you have no idea how much I needed this. I miss her already.
Me: I’ll send you more throughout the day.
Ryanne: Thanks. Have fun!
Pocketing my phone, I bring my attention back to Hannah where she walks along the glass, following two of the smaller monkeys.
“I think these are the kids,” she says.
“They look like it.”
“I wonder if they are brother and sister.”
I remain silent since I don’t have a fucking clue.
She stares at them thoughtfully, watching as they play. “I hope one day I’ll have a brother or a sister to play with.”
Every muscle in my body tightens. She makes the remark casually, not having any idea what that really means.
To think of Ryanne having another child with someone else makes me feel fucking violent. It also makes me wonder if she has been with anyone else. Has anybody tried being a father to my daughter? Just the thought makes me want to drive a bullet between their fucking eyes. For as long as I am walking this earth, no one else will step in where my daughter is concerned.
“Wanna go check out the lions now?” she asks, having no idea the torment I’ve found myself in.
“Yeah. Let’s go.”
She takes my hand again as we walk outside and I decide I’m never letting go, never giving anyone else the opportunity to have this.
“How many times have you been to the zoo?” she asks.
“I haven’t.”
“Never?”
I shake my head, amused by the disbelief in her voice.
“How come? Didn’t Papa Thatcher ever take you?”
The mention of my father reminds me of the betrayal that’s been staked into my chest but I do my best to shove aside the feeling, refusing to let it wreck my time with my daughter. “I was older when I lived with Thatcher. Too old for the zoo.”
“What do you mean? Weren’t you a baby when you were born?”
I smirk at the way her mind works. “Yes, but I wasn’t born to Thatcher, even though he’s my father.”
She peers up at me, looking confused as hell, and I don’t blame her.
I drag her off to the side, deciding now is as good a time as any to explain this to her. Kneeling down, I look her in the face. “Sometimes the family we have aren’t always people we are born to. I wasn’t born to Thatcher but he’s my father because he loved me and raised me to be who I am now. He gave me a home when I didn’t have one.”
“You didn’t have a home?” she whispers, looking devastated at the thought.
“For a while, no, I didn’t.”
“Where did you live then?”
“On the streets.”
Her small lips part on a gasp. “But what about your parents? Where were they?”
My teeth grind against the burn that starts in my chest, my gut churning as the one horrific moment in my life tries emerging from the depths of hell.
“I don’t know my birth father and my mother is dead.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispers, her small lip trembling with emotion.
I’m not.
I refrain from saying that out loud and push on. “Don’t feel bad for me. I have Thatcher and my brothers, Knox and Braxten. Do you know about them?”
“Yes, Mama has told me a little about them and Papa Thatcher talks about all y’all whenever I see him. He’s even shown me pictures.”
I nod, grateful for that. “They aren’t my blood brothers but they are my brothers in every sense of th
e word. We take care of each other, love each other like family. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“I think so,” she says. “But me and you, we-we’re blood family, right?”
“Yeah. We are.”
She’s the only living thing on this earth that carries my DNA. A gift I will always treasure.
She catches me off guard when she steps into me, wrapping her arms around my neck. “I’m glad you’re my dad,” she whispers, her voice thick with tears.
It makes me feel like I’ve just swallowed a thousand razorblades. “Me too, Hannah. More than you’ll ever know.”
Not ready to let her go, I stand with her in my arms, never feeling anything more perfect. I carry her over to the lions where we watch them through the chain-link. Once again the animals fascinate her, but while her gaze is fixated on them mine is on her, wondering how I got lucky enough to create something as perfect as her.
For the rest of the day she remains in my arms, and by the time we make it around the entire zoo, it’s close to dinnertime.
“You wanna stop at the gift shop before we leave and pick something out?” I ask.
“Yes, please!” she says excitedly. “Do you think we could get somethin’ for Mama too since she never got to come with us?”
I don’t give the request a second thought. “Yeah, we can buy something for her, too.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Ryanne
I’ve been a complete and utter mess all day. My heart has a huge gaping hole that won’t be filled until Hannah is home again. I’m not used to being away from her like this. The only time we are ever apart is when I’m working. I have no friends, no life outside of her, and I miss her dearly. I know she and Justice more than deserve this time together but it doesn’t stop it from hurting.
I appreciate the couple pictures he has sent my way but am surprised he even thought of me. Things have been even more strained between us since the other night when I humped his leg like a dog in heat…
Humiliation burns inside of me at the memory. I still can’t believe I did that but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, my hormones have always overtaken my common sense when it comes to that man.
I’ve tried to keep busy by cleaning the house, top to bottom. I baked Hannah’s favorite cookies and now have her favorite dish in the oven. Between all of that, I’ve been wandering over to the large window in the living room for the last two hours, looking for any sign of them. When I finally catch sight of Justice’s black truck turning onto the driveway, I dart back into the kitchen before they can see me, almost tripping over my own two feet.
Picking up the knife from the counter, I begin chopping the vegetables for the salad I’m preparing.
The door opens moments later and Hannah’s voice fills the air. “Mama, we’re home!”
“I’m in the kitchen,” I call out, trying to slow my breathing so I don’t give myself away.
“Oh, we saw you in the window so I thought you was in the living room.”
Shit!
My cheeks warm in embarrassment for getting busted. I turn around just in time to see Hannah running into the kitchen with Justice trailing behind her. I drop the knife on the counter, kneeling down to take her in my arms. She barrels straight into them. Hugging her close, I breathe her in, my heart complete once again.
“Did you have a good time?” I ask, even though the answer is evident in her smile.
“The best! But I sure did miss ya.”
“I missed you, too,” I confess, trying my damnedest to keep my emotions in check when I really want to blubber like a baby and never let her go again.
My gaze meets Justice’s over her head, that ever-present pull passing between us. Or maybe it’s just me and my traitorous hormones again.
“Guess what?” Hannah says, lifting her head from my shoulder.
“What?”
“We bought you a present.”
“You did?” I ask, surprised by the thoughtful gesture.
“Yep, here ya go.” She hands me a plastic bag with the zoo’s logo on it.
My heart warms as I take it from her. Reaching in, I pull out a bangle bracelet that has a single charm on it. Her birthstone.
“Daddy bought me one too, we have matching ones.”
“They’re beautiful.” I look up at Justice, touched that he would do this. It gives me a little hope that maybe, just maybe, he won’t hate me forever. “Thank you,” I say on a whisper.
“You’re welcome.”
I slip it onto my wrist, in love with what it represents.
“Can Daddy stay for supper? I’m not ready to say goodbye to him.”
My eyes meet Justice’s again and I wait for some kind of reaction to the request but he gives nothing away. “He’s welcome to stay if he wants but he might already have plans.”
“I’ll stay,” he cuts in, surprising me once more.
“Yay!” Hannah’s cheer fills the air, her happiness filling my heart.
“Go on and wash up for dinner now,” I say, tapping her on the behind. “I made your favorite.”
“Lasagna?”
“You got it.”
“Yes!” She fist pumps the air. “I’ll be right back. Don’t move,” she orders, shaking her finger at Justice before running out of the kitchen.
Tension fills the room once we’re left alone. Clearing my throat, I stand and start cutting the vegetables again. “Sounds like you guys had a good day.”
“We did.”
I nod when he offers nothing else and continue to slice the cucumber, the sound of my knife on the cutting board filling the awkward silence. “Thanks for the pictures.”
When he doesn’t respond, I look over my shoulder and find him watching me, his intense eyes burning every inch of my skin. Our kiss from the other night emerges, my lips tingling with its memory. By the heat in his gaze, I have no doubt he’s thinking about it, too.
“I’m baaack,” Hannah sings, breaking our connection as she skips into the kitchen. “I brought down the book I was tellin’ you about that Mama reads to me at night. Wanna look at it?”
“Sure,” he replies.
She grabs his hand and leads him over to the table. When he takes a seat, she hops up on his lap, looking comfortable and like she completely belongs there. The sight of them has warmth invading my chest. It’s obvious they broke through more barriers today, and I couldn’t be happier for them.
I turn back to my task at hand, contentment settling over me as I listen to them talk.
“Maybe tonight you can tuck me in,” she says.
“Is that what you want?”
“Very much.”
“Then I will.”
I smile at the way she has him wrapped around her little finger. If anyone has the ability to rope Justice Creed in, it’s definitely Hannah. She has a way about her; a kindness and innocence that makes it very hard to not give her the world.
“Maybe one time you could even sleep over.”
As soon the suggestion leaves her mouth my blade misses the vegetable and slices my finger.
“Shit!” I drop the knife and reach for a dishtowel, wrapping it around the stinging wound.
“Mama, are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” I lie, gritting the response between clenched teeth.
Justice is next to me in an instant. “Let me see,” he says, grabbing my wrist.
“I’m good.”
“Let me see, Ryanne.” His bossy tone brooks no argument.
I give him my hand. He pulls me toward the sink and opens the towel. The air stings the open wound further and the sight of blood has my stomach twisting.
Justice flips on the cold water and stands behind me, holding my bloody finger under the faucet. His erection pressing into me is undeniable and sets my body ablaze. My pain fades and I feel nothing else but the heat from his body and pent-up desire that I still harbor for this man.
“Feeling better?” he murmurs, his warm breath tickling m
y ear.
I nod, unable to speak.
He turns my finger over, inspecting the wound. “You shouldn’t need stitches.”
“’Kay,” I mumble like an idiot, the one word coming out ridiculously breathless.
His arrogant chuckle rumbles in his chest and vibrates against my back. I’m about to toss him a glare over my shoulder until the energy between us suddenly shifts and I feel his body turn rigid.
My face turns toward his and I find him staring down at my chest. Before I can even contemplate what the problem is, he reaches inside of my tank top and pulls out my necklace. The pearl one he bought me for my eighteenth birthday.
He examines the necklace then my face, searching for answers.
I lick my sudden dry lips, my pulse hammering as my mind scrambles with an excuse as to why I still wear it but my words fall flat, his intense eyes robbing me of speech.
A loud piercing sound penetrates the kitchen, knocking us from the heavy moment. Flinching, I cover my ears and it doesn’t take me long to realize it’s the fire alarm. With a gasp, I spin around and find black smoke pouring out of my oven.
“Oh no!” I push from Justice and run to open the door, waving the towel in front of my face while Hannah coughs and sputters, coming up behind me. “Stay back.”
Justice deals with the fire alarm while I remove the now burnt dinner and set it on the stove. My shoulders deflate as I accept defeat. There’s no way I’ll be able to salvage this. The damage is irreparable.
Turning around, I find Justice and Hannah watching me. Hannah looks back at me with sympathy while Justice is the complete opposite. He looks more amused than anything.
“Anyone feel like ordering pizza?” I ask.
“I like pizza,” Hannah says, then looks up at Justice. “How about you?”
“Works for me.”
After dumping the ruined lasagna, I call for delivery then grab a Band-Aid for my finger while Justice and Hannah continue their visit.
Despite the previous disaster we end up having a really great dinner. While we eat the pizza, which Justice ended up paying for, Hannah fills me in on their day, telling me all about the animals they saw. We share a few laughs and Justice even cracks a smile from time to time. It’s light, easy and…beautiful. Exactly what I’ve longed for all these years.
