Wallflowers: One Heart Remains

by CP Smith

  My father’s smile faded, and he flinched at my tone.

  I could feel my throat closing with emotion, so I swallowed it down past the choking knot his sudden appearance in my life had caused. I would not allow him to see me cry. I’d made it twenty-four years without his presence in my life; I could survive the rest without his help.

  “I had no choice. My life was . . . complicated.”

  “Right,” I bit out, scanning him from head to toe. He was a handsome man; I’d give him that, with hair the color of wheat, threaded lightly with gray. And he looked familiar for some reason.

  Had he been lurking in the shadows as I grew up?

  A twinge of hope blossomed at the thought, but I squashed it like an overripe avocado. The fear and loneliness—accompanied by a deep-seated pain I’d carried because of his betrayal—grabbed hold again, and I let the bitterness sink its talons deeper into my heart. The rejection returned instantly. A feeling of worthlessness overpowered my emotions like always, and I straightened my shoulders, ready to do battle.

  “You were always in my heart,” he mumbled, pressing a fist against his chest. “I just couldn’t be here physically.”

  Rage blossomed anew. I will not let him get to me.

  An internal click echoed inside my head, like the turning of a lock. It was the sound of my heart bolting shut against anything he threw at me. I would not allow him to derail the progress I’d made thanks to Cali and Sienna. They’d made me feel like I was worth something. Worth fighting for. Banding together as the Wallflowers, women who’d been scared to change their course in life and find love because of past pain, helped me begin to heal an integral part of me. Something that was broken and forgotten in the bitterness of my life, but no less important: my self-worth. But my father’s sudden presence threatened the slim hold I had on my scarcely healing soul. Wounds, which had seemed a distant memory with all the chaos that seemed to surround my two friends and me. Who had time to worry about a missing father when, in the course of two short weeks, we’d managed to battle murderers twice and escape imprisonment in a dark, dank hole? Yet, as scared as I’d been through all our trials and tribulations of late, murderers seemed like a piece of cake in the face of my father.

  “Don’t,” I spat out. My bottom lip trembled, and I tried to hold it together until I could retreat to lick my wounds. “Just leave. Get the heck out of here and don’t come back.”

  He crossed his arms, standing his ground as if he had every right to be here, then shook his head. “I’ve lost enough time with you.”

  He’d lost enough time?

  Anger bubbled up violently in my chest, ready to erupt. I wanted to grab one of my mother’s lamps and throw it across the room. Or better yet, as Alan Rickman had said in the movie Robin Hood, carve his cold black heart out with a spoon. He’d lost nothing. His right to lay claim to me vanished when he disappeared from my life.

  “You lost the right to be in my life the minute you left and didn’t look back,” I shouted.

  “That may be true, but I’m not leavin’ this time. Whether you want me in your life or not, you need me just as much as I need you in mine. I love you, Poppy. More than you know.”

  Lies!

  Someone reached inside my chest and squeezed my heart. The pain paralyzed me for a moment. “I don’t need anything from you! Not now. Not ever.” The words were spoken low as I tried to rein in the pain his lies cost me. How many times had I wished to hear those three words from him? How many sleepless nights had I dreamed of that declaration? “I needed you when I was five, learnin’ to ride a bike. I needed you when Jimmy Hunt broke my heart in the eighth grade. I needed you,” my voice broke, “when I graduated from SCAD and watched all my classmates with their mothers and fathers. I needed you for so many things growin’ up, Daddy Dearest, but I do not need you now. Take a good look at me, because it’s the last you’ll get. I don’t want you in my life. I don’t need you in my life. Just leave like you did twenty-four years ago and don’t look back!”

  “I didn’t want to leave you,” he returned, his voice gruff, holding a hint of what sounded like pain. “I was protecting you.”

  I stiffened. This was the best he could do? “Right. Your life was so out of control that leavin’ me behind for twenty-four years was your only option? Please don’t insult my intelligence.”

  He gritted his teeth against my anger. “I walked away from you to keep you safe. But a day didn’t pass that I didn’t think about you.”

  “Then explain what was so bad that walkin’ out on your kid was your only choice?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  More lies!

  “It’s not complicated. You can’t tell me because it’s a lie. All of it,” I spat out, disgusted I was related to this man. “You promised Momma we’d be a family, then you got on your bike and rode off into the night like the snake you are.”

  Something like shock passed across his face, then morphed into anger. His eyes shot to my mother who seemed to shrink in the face of it. My mother’s reaction confused me.

  “Momma? Isn’t that what happened?”

  My father’s face iced over, his eyes blank as he stared at her, and she took a step back from him.

  “Isn’t that what happened?” I shouted at them both.

  Before he could utter a word in response, the door behind me slammed open, and I swung around. Nate marched in looking ready to do battle—followed by Cali and Sienna—growling, “What the fuck is goin’ on?”

  My heart skipped a beat, and my anxiety peaked. Even in the face of a father I’d never met, Nate’s presence took my breath away. He exuded power—his dark eyes promising he could take on anything that came at him and win—and I wanted more than anything to burrow myself in his arms and have him block out the pain. But I held myself back. The need to be close to Nate was slowly becoming an addiction. Like any drug of choice, I knew it would end badly if I allowed myself to succumb to the attraction that seemed to crackle like fire whenever he was near. It was tangible and suffocating, the need to be close to him all-encompassing. And it would never work between us because of my demons. Heck, it would never work with any man because of my insecurities. I’d been lying to myself, and to the Wallflowers when I said I would try being open to love. It was pointless. No man could purge the dragon who stalked my dreams. Silence the voices in the dark. I tried once with Blake, my ex-boyfriend, and I’d sent him running into the arms of another woman.

  Nate’s dark, hickory-colored eyes landed on mine then he scanned my body from head to toe.

  “What are you doin’ here?” I didn’t want him or the Wallflowers to see me break down. I couldn’t handle the humiliation of being weak.

  “Better question is, who the fuck is he?” Nate growled.

  My father’s eyes went on alert at his tone, and he dropped his hands to his side, his stance on guard as if he were waiting for Nate to strike. He looked to be in good shape for a man in his early fifties, but he was no match for the mountain of a man at my side, so I quickly introduced him.

  “This is my father,” I rushed out. “Wallflowers, Nate, meet David Tyler, the bastard who knocked up my mother and then disappeared from my life.”

  Cali gasped at my introduction, her eyes growing wider as she stared at my father, but Sienna flat-out froze, clearly shocked my long-lost father had shown up out of the blue.

  Nate grew stock-still beside me, growling, “Fuck me,” between clenched teeth, his tone one of astonishment. He whipped out his phone in a rush and stepped closer to me, his heat burning a trail down my side. I watched him hit buttons on his phone, confused by his reaction, then turned back to look at the Wallflowers. Cali had grabbed ahold of Sienna’s hand like a lifeline, and both had turned ashen.

  Something was wrong.

  Sienna opened her mouth, then cleared her throat—tugging nervously at her hair before pushing it behind her ear—as I waited for her to explain her reaction. Instead of addressing me, however, she od
dly said, “Knox? Is, is that your name?” on a shuddering breath.

  I looked between them both, confused. Who is Knox? And why is Sienna acting so oddly?

  “Yeah, baby girl.”

  My eyes shot back to him in surprise. Baby girl?

  Nate grabbed my hand at his answer and tugged me behind his back, rumbling in a strained voice at the phone, “Strawn, you need to get your ass over to Ms. Gentry’s house. STAT. Knox is here, and we’ve got a clusterfuck on our hands.”

  What in the heck was going on?

  I looked between the Wallflowers and Nate. Clearly, they knew something I didn’t. “What’s goin’ on?” I demanded.

  Sienna looked at me like she’d never seen me before, tracing the lines of my face with her eyes, studying me like a biology experiment. Then she looked back at my father and asked, anxiously, “Are you Poppy’s father?”

  What on earth? “Why are you askin’ if he’s my father? Did you drink too much green magic at lunch?”

  Cali was staring at me with something akin to awe. I wanted to shout at the top of my lungs, “Someone tell me what’s going on,” so, I turned back to my father, ready to demand an explanation.

  “Are you, are you my father?” Sienna whispered in a ragged breath, catching me off guard before I could interrogate him. I whipped around at her question with a gasp, wondering if she’d finally lost her ever-loving mind. I knew she wanted to find her biological father, but this was getting ridiculous.

  I looked back at Daddy Dearest, ready to jump in if he dared laugh at her question. Sienna may have been nuts, totally bonkers at this point, but she was my wacky friend, and no one but me was allowed to laugh at her.

  Knox cleared his throat and smiled at her, but didn’t laugh, thank God. I waited for him to ask if she had him confused with someone else, but instead, he knocked my feet out from under me. With a straight face, and no indication he thought she was crazy, bonkers, nuts, my father answered, “Yeah, baby girl,” once again.

  The world, as I knew it, halted with those three words and my head began to spin wildly. Then my heart skidded to a full-stop before starting again as I gaped unbelievingly at Sienna. She gazed back at me, and I noted tears were pebbling in her eyes. She reached out to me while my world tilted on its axis, whispering, “Poppy,” in amazement.

  A million questions ran simultaneously through my head, overloading my system—causing adrenaline to dump on cue—like it always did when I was stressed. But it was worse this time. I didn’t think I could handle one more thing or I’d short-circuit, then everyone would know I’m weak. That panic and anxiety owned me like a pimp owned a hooker.

  I shook my head, stepping back from her outstretched hand, looking to my father, of all people, for help. The hair on my arms began to rise and my vision blurred as I took him in. He smiled at me and nodded, confirming I hadn’t misheard. He meant it. He. Meant. It.

  Sienna was my sister?

  I tried to pull air into my lungs while I looked between them, still waiting for the punch line that never came. I vaguely heard my mother shout at my father as I scanned their faces, their noses, their smiles. My God, it was right in front of me. Sienna looked just like him.

  I shook my head to clear it, unable to assimilate the information fast enough for my brain to stop dumping adrenaline. Huffing and puffing like a racehorse, I tried to draw in air, but my lungs wouldn’t fill fast enough. I needed to leave so I could think. So I could run or do jumping jacks to burn off the adrenaline. So I could breathe.

  Warmth hit my back, enveloping me in a comforting blanket. I knew it was Nate crowding me, so I leaned into him for support, ignoring my vow to keep my distance from him, because at the moment, I needed him more than I needed air in my lungs. He whispered something I couldn’t make out over the ringing in my ears. Shaking my head in panic, I felt his voice vibrating his chest, so I strained to hear him. “Say the word, and we’re out of here,” his husky voice whispered in my ear.

  Word! Word! Word! I screamed in my head, but my vision blurred further as the truth burrowed deeper into my mind with a thundering impact. Reaching out to steady myself, I grabbed Nate’s steel-like arm and hung on, trying to ground myself in reality. I opened my mouth to say, “Get me out of here,” so I could breathe, but no sound came out. Then the room tilted and spun sideways, the voices around me sounding far away. I hadn’t had a panic attack like this one in ages. I was going to pass out, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

  The last thing I remember, before my legs gave way beneath me, was Nate’s smooth as whiskey voice ordering me softly to, “Breathe, baby. Just breathe.”

  Then the lights went out.

  _______________

  “Don’t come a step closer,” a peeved-off man ordered. “You’ve made your bed, now you can fuckin’ lie in it until she says otherwise.”

  Positive I was dreaming, I tried to wake up. My lids fluttered for a moment, then opened slowly. Angry eyes the color of black coffee, rimmed with long lashes and a furious scowl, narrowed on my face. Huh, I was dreaming of Nate again.

  “You’re like a terrified kitten with her fur up, spittin’ and hissin’ to keep the world at bay. Do me a favor and breathe for fuck’s sake.”

  He seemed furious with me, so I nodded and buried my face in the crook of his neck, taking a deep, satisfying breath. “You always smell so good.”

  Dream Nate smelled as heavenly as real Nate. Musk laced with sweat, and just a hint of beer thrown into the mix. It was the best scent I’d ever encountered.

  “Poppy,” Dream Nate mumbled, so I drew back and looked at him. His expressive eyes seemed to be smiling at me, the crinkles at the side gave the impression of laughing.

  “Your eyes are just this side of black,” I told him. “Are you part Italian?”

  He seemed exasperated by my question, but he answered, “No.”

  “Asian?”

  “No.”

  “African American?”

  His lips twitched. “No. Native American.”

  I could totally see that in his skin tone and strong brow. “Is that why you wear your hair longer? Because of your heritage? Or is it just to attract women, like I thought?”

  He rolled his lips between his teeth but didn’t answer. Dream Nate was as closemouthed as real Nate.

  “Is she awake?” Sienna’s anxious voice called out, and I froze, dread swirling through my veins. Then my world tilted again, and the past half hour came rushing back.

  I tried to push out of Nate’s arms, but they wouldn’t budge. “What happened?” I asked to distract Nate, trying to remember what I’d said to him in the midst of my freak-out, hopeful I hadn’t declared my undying love to the man. But, with the way my day had been going thus far, all bets were off.

  “You fainted like a cheesy romance heroine, that’s what happened,” Cali murmured, her face stretched tight with concern.

  “Wallflowers don’t faint, have the vapors, or otherwise swoon,” I defended, still trying to break free of Nate’s embrace. “I just lost my footin’ is all.”

  The odds of them believing that were nil, but never surrender—never give in, I always say. If you can’t fool them with humor, give sarcasm a try.

  Sienna and Cali looked at each other but didn’t smile at my wit. Right. Time to change the subject and get as far away from Nate as humanly possible. The moon maybe?

  “Can you stand?” Nate finally grumbled to my relief, loosening his grip. I avoided his eyes and nodded, then rose slowly from the floor with his help, taking a step away from him to hide my attraction.

  “I’ll get you a glass of water,” Cali offered, but I shook my head. I needed answers, then a dark hole I could climb in to lick my wounds.

  “I’m fine,” I managed to say, then glanced at Sienna and studied her for a moment. I didn’t know what I felt, other than confused. I was born in California and Momma moved here to start over after being dumped by my father. Sienna was born here, and she was older than m
e by more than a year, so how the heck could we be sisters? “I think somebody needs to explain how Sienna and I are half sisters.”

  She and I both turned to our “father” and waited.

  He looked between us and sighed. “Three months before I met your mother, Poppy, I was in Las Vegas on vacation. Suzanne Miller was there, as well. I didn’t know she was married. She never spoke about anything in her life except that she was from Savannah,” he began. “She painted a descriptive picture of a small city full of life and history. One where family and friends looked out for each other in good times and in bad. Having grown up in Los Angeles where millions of people surround you, yet you never really know anyone, her stories intrigued me. When I knew I’d have to hide you to keep you safe, Poppy, I sent you both here because I wanted something different for you than a nameless existence. I didn’t know about Sienna until a year ago. I was in town and followed you. You had lunch with Sienna and her mother. I recognized Suzanne immediately. When I realized Sienna was her daughter, it only took a single look to put two and two together. I followed Suzanne home, confronted her, and she admitted I was your father, Sienna.”

  You could have heard a pin drop when he was done.

  “She told me my father was a gym manager,” Sienna finally said, her voice full of accusation. “I’ve been to every fitness club in town, tryin’ to find one that was open when I was born.”

  My father looked sheepish at her reply. “We met in the hotel’s gym.”

  Sienna rolled her eyes. “Gym manager,” she mumbled. “Nice, Momma.”

  Now it was my turn for questions. Ones that needed answering this minute. “So, you settled Momma and me in Savannah to be closer to Suzanne Miller, and then you abandoned me?”

  My father shook his head. “I moved you here to keep you safe, in a small city with culture and history where you wouldn’t be just another number among millions. Where you could put down roots in a community that is close-knit.”

  “Right. I forgot. You moved me here because I was in danger?”