by K. C. Lynn
“Then what about yours, Justice? Will you tell me yours?”
I tense, my eyes meeting hers in the quiet dark.
“You know all my secrets,” she whispers, “the good and bad, yet I don’t know a single thing about yours.”
“What do you want to know?” My voice is gruff, restricted in fear because I know exactly what she’s asking.
“Where did you come from before you found your brothers and Thatcher?”
A coldness takes over my body, freezing the ice in my veins as the dark memories I’ve always kept locked away emerge with a vengeance. “You don’t want to know,” I finally manage to choke out.
“Yes, I do. I want to know everything about you.”
Not this. She has no idea who I am without my brothers and dad. Who I really belong to and what I come from.
She touches my face, her fingers soft and grazing. “Nothing you tell me will change how I feel about you,” she says, sensing my greatest fear. “Please, let me in.” The soft plea has me unable to deny her.
Swallowing thickly, I somehow find words to explain one of the darkest moments of my life. The moment that shaped me from a child.
“I was born to a woman who never wanted me,” I start, a sudden calmness slipping over me. “Actually, she hated me.” My voice becomes nothing more than an echo, my body cold and numb as I’m forced to relive that fateful night.
The distant sound of sobs pull me from my bed. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I grab my tattered bear, the only stuffed animal I’ve ever owned, and slowly open my door. I look back and forth down the dimly lit hallway of our small house then tentatively step out. My small feet press into the carpet as I follow the tortured sound; every step making my heart beat in fear for what she will do to me if she finds me out of bed.
Peeking around the corner, I see her in the living room, surrounded by darkness. An empty bottle sits in front of her, a shiny metal gun resting in her hand as she cries uncontrollably. Her lips move, whispering things I can’t understand as she rocks back and forth.
A creak beneath my foot alerts her of my presence. Her head snaps up, sad expression turning to one of hatred.
Silence beats between us, fear crawling up my throat that she’s going to lash out and hurt me.
“I tried,” she cries. “I tried so hard to love you but I can’t.”
Even though I already knew this, her words still hurt. All I’ve ever wanted is for her to love me. That’s what mothers are supposed to do. When other kids get dropped off at school their moms always leave them with a hug or a kiss. I’ve never had that from her.
I don’t even know what a hug feels like.
“You look so much like him,” she screams. “You are just like him!” My eyes go wide as she lifts the barrel to her temple. “Now I will never be forced to have to see him again.”
The shot goes off, the loud noise making me flinch as something warm and wet hits my face. She slumps over, the color red pooling beneath her lifeless body. I find myself unable to move, my body violently trembling as I stare into my mother’s dead eyes, a mother who hated me too much to love me.
“Justice,” Ryanne’s whisper pulls me back to the present, sympathy burning in her gaze. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be,” I say, managing to speak through the tormented emotions suffocating me. “She didn’t have to look at me again, and I was freed from her hatred.”
Only to end up in the system to endure more abuse before finding my brothers, but I keep that part to myself. One revelation is enough for tonight.
“Why did she harbor so much resentment? I don’t understand.”
“Because I look just like her rapist.” My stomach hollows out, bile inching up my throat as I speak the shameful words.
She stills at the revelation.
“I’m a product of rape, Ryanne. That’s who I am. That’s where I came from.” It took a long time for me to come to terms with it, and if I’m honest, at times I still haven’t, knowing that man’s blood flows in my veins makes me sick. I have no idea who he is or where, all I can hope is he’s burning in hell where he belongs.
“That’s why you always ask me,” she whispers, realization dawning in her eyes. “That’s why every time before we ever make love, you make sure I want it. That I want you…”
My silence is all the confirmation she needs.
She reaches out, touching my jaw. “I always want you, Justice. Never doubt that. You are not him and you aren’t her either.”
“I’m both of them. That’s whose blood I have running in my veins.”
“That means nothing. You know that better than anyone. You’re a Creed.” She leans down, brushing her lips across mine. “A good man and father. I just hope…”
“What?” I ask when she trails off.
“Can you really leave it behind? The lifestyle with your brothers. If that’s what suppresses your demons how can I compete with that?” Her voice cracks, the fear in her words shredding my insides.
“You don’t get it. I don’t need it when I have you.” I reach up, cupping her soft cheek. “It’s always been you, Ryanne. If I had been given the chance six years ago, I would have walked away from it then. I will always choose you and Hannah.”
Her eyes close, a sob tumbling from her as she drops down on top of me. “I’m sorry, so sorry for running and keeping her from you,” she cries, apologizing once again. “I was scared of so many things but you were always with us, Justice. Always in our hearts.”
My teeth grind as the ache in my chest intensifies, hating the pain and regret that bleeds from her. It has me speaking the words that I do. “I forgive you.” The moment I say them, I know they’re true.
Her cries stop and she pushes up on her elbow, sad eyes appearing before me. “What?”
“I forgive you,” I say again, wiping her tears with the pads of my fingers. “I haven’t told you this because I was too angry before but you’ve done good with her, Ryanne. You’re everything a mother should be and I’m glad you’re Hannah’s.”
The confession has her crying harder. Unable to bear the painful sound any longer, I flip her over and come over top of her, my fingers curling around hers. “Tell me you want me,” I murmur, needing to hear it.
Her hands frame my face, soft eyes peering up into mine. “Always.”
I slide into her, her warmth spreading throughout my entire body.
She gasps, accepting all of me, her arms circling my neck. “I love you.” The three words leave her on a whisper, making me still deep inside of her. “I’ve always loved you, years apart never changed that. I’ll love you until my last breath, Justice Creed.”
I’m unable to speak, unable to mutter the same words I feel, too afraid to say them out loud. Instead, I show her. For the first time in my life I make love to someone and know it will always be her. The woman who has undeniably claimed every part of me forever. A woman I will never let go of again.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Ryanne
The next morning I slip out of the front door, leaving Justice asleep, and head for the main house, anxious to see Hannah.
I feel like a completely different person after everything that happened last night and though I am still trying to come to grips with it all, I don’t regret a single moment of it.
In a way I feel like I’ve been set free. Free from the fear I felt when it came to Justice and the bond he shared with his brothers. Free from the regret and guilt I harbored for running all those years ago, but most of all, free to express my love.
Justice didn’t say the words back to me, but he showed me with every touch and kiss. He made love to me like never before, cherished me in ways I only ever imagined. It meant so much more than words ever could.
He also opened up and shared a part of himself, which I know was incredibly hard. The revelation of his birth mother shattered me, but it also made me realize we have more in common than I thought. Both born to parents who hate us. Though, his
was definitely more violent and tragic.
It terrifies me to think what else he may have suffered before finding his brothers and Thatcher. In the living room, amongst the throes of passion, I witnessed all three of their demons and it was a very dark place. My heart breaks for them all but it also makes me understand them a little more. Why their hearts are as interconnected as they are.
They all share one common denominator: pain.
Braxten is sitting out on the front steps when I reach the main house, drinking a cup of coffee. Heat creeps up my neck, invading my cheeks as erotic images from last night surface. I may not regret it but I do feel a little embarrassed knowing he saw me in my most intimate and vulnerable moments.
His gaze is warmer than usual as he greets me. “Hey.”
“Hey,” I reply back quietly. “Hannah awake yet?”
“Yeah, she and Dad are cooking breakfast.”
Nodding, I start up the stairs only to have him snag my wrist, stopping me mid step.
“Sit with me for a minute.”
I look down at his hand before nervously taking the spot next to him, my eyes training ahead as I stare out at the rising sun.
“You doing okay?” he asks, sounding genuinely concerned.
“Yeah. Still just trying to take it all in I guess.”
He grunts. “You and me both.”
I look over at him, surprised by the admission. I figured this would be the norm for them, but I am finally realizing this is hard for him, too.
“Look, I just want to say thank you for giving us one last time together.”
His heartfelt words have warmth invading my chest. “I didn’t just do it for you guys,” I confess quietly. “I did it for me, too. I feel like I needed to in order to really understand the relationship you have with one another. As much as I hate to admit it, I always felt threatened by it. I knew I could never compete with it.”
“Trust me, we’ve never been a threat to you, not where my brother is concerned.”
There’s so much truth in those words that it erases any remaining insecurities I had. It also brings forth the memory of that first night with Justice, the night I saw the figure standing just outside the door of his bedroom, watching us during our most intimate moment.
“Were you the one watching us that night?” I ask bravely, feeling almost embarrassed for asking but I can’t help myself. I’ve thought about it often over the years, wondering which one of them it was, though I think I have a pretty good idea…
The confused scowl that transforms his expression confirms what I already suspected. “What night?”
“When Justice and I were together all those years ago someone watched by the door.”
Surprise registers on his face before he chuckles. “Knox, that fucker.”
I always figured it was him but had to ask.
“He didn’t like the circle being broken, even back then.”
I understand it more now than I did before, which is one of the reasons why I went through with it last night.
“I don’t want to take him away from you guys,” I say, feeling the need to tell him that. “I just want to love him, too. I need him as much as you guys do, so does Hannah.”
The same emotions gripping my heart are prominent on his face. “Yeah, I know.”
“The three of you are lucky to have each other,” I continue, voice soft. “I don’t have siblings; I never had anyone love me until Hannah. Well, and Thatcher.”
“That man really loves taking in the strays, doesn’t he?”
I chuckle, thinking how true it is. Thatcher is one of a kind. He definitely makes the world a better place. Without him, all of our lives would not be what they are today.
“But now you have two badass brothers, not to mention how hot we are.” He slings an arm around my shoulders, pressing a kiss to the side of my head. There’s nothing sexual about it, just friendly—brotherly.
I roll my eyes at his not-so-subtle modesty but can’t deny the warmth flowing through me. “Well, I appreciate you saying that but let’s not count Knox in just yet.”
“Don’t worry about him. Beneath all that hostility he’s just bursting with love.”
The ridiculous statement has a bout of laughter escaping me. I’m pretty sure Knox doesn’t burst with anything. He’s too closed off, too…sad. The reminder of what I saw last night has my heart growing heavy again.
“How’s he doing?” I ask.
He shrugs. “He’ll be all right. We all knew this day would come eventually, but that doesn’t make it easier, ya know?”
I nod, completely understanding that.
Approaching footsteps pull our attention forward. There I find Justice walking toward us, looking sinfully sexy in all his morning glory. His dark hair is rumpled with sleep, jeans from the night before hanging enticingly off his lean hips. He carries his shirt in his hand, leaving his very powerful and sculpted body on display.
“Show off,” Braxten grumbles.
Smiling, I slip out from under his arm and walk down a few steps to greet Justice, my arms locking around his neck as he pulls me in close, our bodies fitting together in the most perfect way.
“Good morning,” I greet him.
“Morning,” he mutters, his deep voice still thick with sleep. “Everything okay?” His gaze shifts to Braxten with the question.
“Yeah, she just wanted to come and hang out with me,” he says. “Said she missed me and couldn’t stop thinking about me.”
It takes everything in me not to burst out laughing, especially at the glare Justice gives him. “Actually, I came to see Hannah. I missed her.”
“Me too,” he shares. “And you.”
The admission has a silly smile stealing my lips.
“All right, this is making me nauseous,” Braxten says, pushing to his feet. “I’m going inside, I’ll see you guys in there.”
“Brax,” I call over my shoulder.
He turns back to face me.
“Thanks for the talk.”
“Anytime…sis.”
The one word means so much more than he can ever know.
After he walks inside, I turn back to Justice and find him watching me closely. “Sis?” He lifts a brow.
“Uh-huh.” I lean in, brushing my lips across his. “How do you feel about that?”
His hands drop to my bottom, pulling me flush against him. “I say let’s make it legal by you marrying me.”
I shake my head, lips quirking. “Nice try, Creed.” Grabbing his hand, I pull him up the steps. “Come on, let’s go see our little girl.”
He grunts. “Nice evasion.”
It’s all I have for now. I don’t want to lose this new place we have found ourselves in. A place that very well could lead to what we both want.
Music greets our ears the moment we enter, Marvin Gaye’s “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough” blaring from the kitchen, Thatcher’s and Hannah’s voices singing the words. We walk in to find Thatcher standing at the stove, flipping pancakes in the air while she catches each one with a plate.
Braxten almost gets a pancake in the head as he grabs himself a glass, managing to dodge it just in the nick of time. The entire scene before me has warmth flooding my heart.
“Mama, Daddy!” Hannah puts the plate down when she spots us and runs straight into Justice’s waiting arms.
“Morning, baby.” He kisses her cheek before shifting her to the side so I can hug her, too.
“How was your night?” I ask.
“It was amazing. Papa Thatcher and I had so much fun. We drank hot cocoa, had popcorn, and watched Brave.”
“Now why am I not surprised to hear that’s the movie you chose.” I look over at Thatcher to see his smile is as bright as Hannah’s.
“We had a great time,” he says. “We’ll have to do it again.”
“Uncle Knox said he would take me on the tractor with him later today and even let me drive.”
For the first time since entering the ki
tchen my eyes move to Knox, nerves twisting in my belly as I try to gauge where we stand. His usual hard expression is a little softer today, and for the first time ever I’m greeted with a nod. It’s more than I’ve ever gotten from him before so I take it as a starting point and smile in return.
“Have a seat,” Thatcher says. “Hannah J. and I made chocolate chip pancakes for everyone.”
Chairs scrape across the floor as we all take what have become our usual seats at the table. Justice sits next to Knox, putting Hannah between us. As I help dish her plate, I notice him pull his brother in close, murmuring things that the rest of us can’t hear.
Witnessing their love and bond makes my chest swell and ache at the same time. Whatever he says has Knox nodding before he releases him.
“Did everyone have a good time at the dance?” Thatcher asks, the grin resting on his face a good indicator that he hasn’t stopped thinking about it, and I have a pretty good feeling as to why.
“I did,” Hannah says. “I loved playing with Amelia.”
“How about you, Thatcher?” I ask, not bothering to hide my knowing smile. “It sure looked like you and Gwen had a good time.”
“Well, you know.” He chuckles, and if I didn’t know any better I’d swear the man was blushing. “Dancing with a beautiful woman all night is no hard feat.”
I’m about to press for more information, my curiosity still piqued about the two of them, but Hannah ends up cutting in with a question. One that chills me to the bone.
“What’s a nigger?”
I still, my fork clattering to my plate.
Justice tenses next to me, a thick silence descending over the table.
It takes me a moment to find my voice. “Hannah, where did you hear that word?”
“Someone said it at the dance last night about Papa Thatcher. They said niggers are supposed to dance with their own kind,” she says it so casually; having no idea the amount of venom and hate that word holds.
“Who?” Justice questions, his voice thick with anger.
“I don’t know his name. He was wearing a red hat and white T-shirt.”
“Billy Ray,” Knox spits. “He’s always been a racist piece of shit.”
