“It’s the right thing.”
Again, Griffin nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Creak. Creak. Snap-pop. Creak. Creak. Snap-pop.
Songbirds serenaded them as the early morning awakened the small neighborhood. Warmth draped the day with a humidity that made his silk shirt cling to him. He’d lost fifteen years of Dante’s life to a misguided belief. He’d missed special occasions and important events while deployed with the Marines or on missions with Nightshade. That time could not be made up. But it was time for a new beginning.
Would he do a good job? What if his anger got loose, got away from him?
“You are not your father. He had serious problems he never dealt with.”
The words forced Griffin to look at the aged patriarch. It’d been taboo to talk about his father, about the man who’d robbed his mother—his grandfather’s only child—of her life. Was Pop-Pop about to change that unwritten rule?
Jaw set, dentures clenched, Pop-Pop fastened his gaze on the green grass, his handiwork. Years of hard work carved unkind lines into the eightysomething face. White hair sat atop his head like a swab of cotton on aged, dried-out leather. “What about that woman you talked about? Thought you said she was something special. Why ain’t she here with you?”
Griffin dropped his attention back to the hardwood deck. He hadn’t heard from Kazi since the team shipped back—and of course, she couldn’t just enter the country and assume an identity without drawing suspicion. Lambert convinced her to come in later, secretly.
When exactly is later, K?
“It’s not in my hands, Pop-Pop.”
“But you want that girl, don’t you? I see you lost in thought—you never been a loud, outspoken boy, but that internal struggle has been greater since you returned. And I know it’s about that girl.”
“Yes, sir. I want her. But…” Who knew if she still wanted him? He’d tried to give her room, space to figure herself out, what she wanted, but what if she misread that? Thought he didn’t want her? He blew out a breath and sat back. He’d done the right thing. Knew he did. “She’s smart. She knows where I stay, I’m sure.” He hoped. Prayed. Every night.
“What if she showed up? You gonna get all up in her face about being late?”
Griffin snickered. “No, sir.” Not a day went by that he hadn’t worked through what he’d done wrong, what kept her from coming to him. Or what he’d do if she showed up. Romance her. Give her time to take things as she wanted.
Inside, a clatter of noise drew him from the chair. “That should be Dante.”
“Do it right.”
“Yes, sir.” Griffin opened the screen door and let himself in through the light panel door. He crossed through the kitchen and into the living room. Quick, quiet words met him at the threshold. Dante looked up, his face softening.
And in that instant, Griffin knew two things. One, that the Dante on the television interview was a facade, a boy who didn’t want the world in his business. Just like his father. And two, secrets had their own way of finding the light of day. Dante knew.
Phoenix, shorter by a head, turned to Griffin. “I’m sorry, G.” Tears ran down her face, marring her face with black streaks. “I don’t know how he found out. He wouldn’t—“
“It’s a’right.” Griffin kept his gaze on the boy. “Pop-Pop is outside. Why don’t you go see if he needs something, Phee.”
Sniffling, Phoenix hurried past him, her hand trailing along his arm as she did.
“Go on,” Griffin said to the boy.
Dante stared.
“Say what’s on your mind.”
Dante’s gaze fell. He wrestled with a piece of paper in his hands. His shoulders lowered. Whatever was on that crumpled ball held the key to the boy’s confusion.
Griffin closed the six-foot gap between them and took the paper. Glanced at it. Felt his heart squeeze, making it hard to draw a breath.
“I got a friend who stays up with his cousin. He knows how to…do things. Find things. Documents.”
“You mean hack computers and databases?” He tried to make the comment light, help Dante through what seemed a painful dialogue.
Disquiet hung rank and thick in the clean living room. Griffin thought of asking the boy to sit and talk, but the tension wadded up in his shoulders was probably close to what Dante had in his own. Unlike Griffin who had been raised with a violent father, Dante had the benefit of being raised in a Southern Christian family, where he was taught to respect his elders. He would no more talk out against Griffin than he would Pop-Pop.
“Say what’s on your mind, Dante.”
“Why?” Eyebrows knotted, Dante’s wounded gaze shot to his. “Why’d you give me to your sister? I was your son.” Dark orbs glistening with tears, the boy bore a grievous wound. And there were no words or magic potions to make this go away.
“I thought I was doing what was best.” Griffin sighed. “My father wasn’t a man I was proud to call Dad. He was violent.” So Griffin would break the self-imposed family rule and talk about this. “We don’t talk about this; it was too painful for Madyar—my father killed my mother. Then killed himself. Right in front of me and Phee.” The bitter pill of truth from the past was laced with heartache and proved hard to swallow. “I saw him in me. That made me angry and pushed me in the wrong direction.” He let out a long, ragged breath. Hating confessions. Hating the truth of what he once was. “I wasn’t always a man of honor. The man the Marine Corps Creed demands, the man I became.”
Attention swung center mass.
“When I was seventeen, I got messed up in a gang. Thought I owned it all. Know what I’m saying? I was big, took care of my body, the girls liked me, and I liked them. I was drunk on power, on thinking I had it all.”
Dante smirked.
“But I didn’t know nothin’ about respect. Treating them with respect or treating myself with respect. There was one girl I would’ve done anything for.” Griffin swiped a hand over his bald head, noticing the sweat. He went on before he lost his nerve. “She and I had a baby.”
Full attention now.
“One day I pulled up to where she stayed. I hadn’t even gotten out of the car, and she was already coming down the walk.” He shook his head. “Most beautiful sight, her with my baby. But a car screeched to a stop. And they shot her. Shot her right there. A drive-by. They targeted her and my baby because of me.” He patted his chest. “They killed her to show me I didn’t have no power. That I wasn’t all that. And it scared me. Scared me bad.”
“What’d you do?”
“I got in control. Asked Phee to raise the baby, give you a family, a home, something I couldn’t do.” Man, this was harder than he thought. “Joined up with the Marines. Didn’t look back.” He shook his head. “That decision has chased me for the last sixteen years.”
Dante didn’t move.
“Dante, you’re my son.” Forcing himself forward, Griffin owned up. “I’ve missed a lot, and this last mission—it burned into my memory that life is precious but so very short. I wanted to get back here, see that you were still alive, that you didn’t hate me.”
“I did. I did hate you.” Dante shrugged again. “Least I thought I did. But Pop-Pop just told me I was hurt.” He straightened the paper and sighed. “He was right. When they cleared you of all charges last month, I wasn’t surprised. I knew you didn’t do those things they put you in jail for. That’s why it didn’t bother me to see you up in there at Wallens. But when you escaped…I didn’t know what to do with that. Know what I’m saying? It hurt me that you escaped and vanished. Pop-pop was right.”
“The man always is. There’s a lot of wisdom beneath those burdened shoulders.” Griffin raised his hands in surrender. “I didn’t want to escape, to break the law doing that, but I knew something had to be really bad. So I went. But not without a struggle in here”—he thumped his fist over his heart—“knowing what you might think. It does my heart proud to know you believed in me even when they said those things.�
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A crooked smile spilled through Dante’s face. “I tried to sort it out, you being my dad, being there for me as an uncle. And you were. You were there whenever you could be.”
“It wasn’t enough.”
“Yeah.” Dante stuffed the paper in his pocket. “Maybe. You were gone. A lot.” He met Griffin’s gaze for a second, then sniffed and drew his hand across his face. A nervous gesture. “Missed my birthday, ya know? Missed a lot of them.”
Without another thought, Griffin pulled his son into his arms. “I thought I was doing the right thing, thought you would have a good life. I’m sorry. Very sorry, Dante. I was wrong.”
The boy held him tight. “I can see why you did it. And it’s not like you abandoned me—you’ve always been there, mostly.” Dante eased out of the hug. “Wish you hadn’t given me up. Know what I’m saying?”
Griffin tugged the back of Dante’s head closer. “I know. I hated it.” He rubbed his knuckles. “Every mission, my only thought was that I had to get back home—to you. Thoughts of you kept me alive.”
“Missions?” Dante wrinkled his nose. “But you got out of the Marines.”
The boy needed to know. “Will you take a ride with me?”
Dante hesitated.
“There’s a memorial dedication in honor of a man I knew. He was one of the bravest, truest heroes. My friends—brothers—will be there.
I want you to meet the men I call family.”
Bad idea.
She should just get back in the cab, hop back on the plane, and vanish back into the anonymity she’d thrived in for the last twenty years. No. Not thrived. Survived. Barely. And the last month had been scraping by, her every thought of the man who’d made her believe. In life. In him. In God. In myself. As she took in the supposed tranquility of domestic bliss, she heard the wheels of the cab rolling away. Okay, so no going back now. Tranquility. Domestic bliss. More like blister.
“You no more belong in a house with kids and a husband than rain belongs inside.” She and Tina had laughed long and hard over that. But…was it true? Could she do this? It all seemed too…tame. Confining.
Kazi fisted her hands. She wanted this. Wanted to be where Griffin was. Wanted to fit in and stop feeling like an outsider, like she didn’t belong anywhere. Do I belong anywhere?
“God…sent me.” Those words had clung to her like this oppressive air since Griffin spoke them. The dichotomy of that moment carved a permanent line through her heart—seeing the body of the man who oppressed her laid out flat by the man who’d freed her. God had done that for her? It still was a lot to take in. To believe. But…maybe Griffin was right.
The sun beat down on her as she stood on the sidewalk staring at the charming home with bricked columns, a front porch, and four rocking chairs. Her chest hurt.
Do I belong here?
No. None of this was familiar. Quaint homes. Children laughing. A woman ambled past her with a baby in a stroller.
No, this is wrong. Very wrong.
Only because it scares you.
She swallowed. True enough. She could disarm security guards. Sneak into a Taliban camp. Evade assassins. But…family…committing…to Griffin.
Chewing her bottom lip, Kazi stood frozen. He was in there. Griffin was in that house. She saw him an hour ago. Saw his son and sister enter. His family. That’s who belonged here. Not her. Not some woman from a mission that left him heartbroken over a friend. She’d seen the difference in him as they waited for the jumbo jet to whisk them back here.
The front door opened.
Heat streaked through her stomach as a familiar shape filled the entry. She spun away. What if he didn’t want her here? She ground her teeth. But I want him!
“Kazi?”
She closed her eyes. Took a step back.
“Kazi!”
She stopped. She couldn’t leave him. Not like this. Not without knowing what he thought, what he felt. Slowly, she brought herself around. The smile faltering on her lips made her insides quake. “Hi, Griffin.”
“‘Hi, Griffin?’” He stood on the bottom step, a teenager behind him. “That’s all I get after you leaving me high and dry?”
Dante went back into the house.
Heat rose through her cheeks. Not quite how I thought this would go. Or maybe it was exactly what she feared—he didn’t want her. Which is why her eyes were burning and her lip quivering.
Biting the inside of her lip to keep it still, she made herself face him. At least she could be strong about saying good-bye. “I’m sorry. I’ll le—“
Griffin stepped off the porch. Strode forward.
Hope rose like a swell on the ocean.
His speed increased. Faster. Till he was all-out running.
Surprise jolted Kazi as he bore down on her. Tears sprung like a leak in a oil line. She rushed forward. Or at least she wanted to. But his reaction pinned her to the sidewalk.
Griffin jerked her into his arms and pulled her against his chest. “You scared me,” he breathed against her neck. “I thought you weren’t coming.”
Pressing her face against his, she held on tight. Loved that he lifted her from her feet, from her problems, from the past. Off her toes, she eased back in his arms.
He looked at her.
“I know what it means, Griffin.”
His expression had a rapid-fire change. Went from happy relief to an intensity that made the snakes of fear and rejection slither through her belly. Gently, he set her down. “What’s it mean to you, Baby Girl?”
She traced his face, smiling through the bevy of emotion. “Everything.”
Griffin cupped her face with his hands and smirked. “You mess me up good, Kazi-smeera.”
Holding on to his thick arms, she laughed.
“But I love you.” He captured her mouth with his.
She curled her arms around his large shoulders, her hand on the base of his neck. A sigh sifted out the earlier turmoil and with a deep, contented peace draped over her life like the warm sun. His kiss deepened, filled with passion. Demanding yet gentle. Loving yet urgent. Whoops and hollers erupted amid applause. Griffin swung her around, and there, on the steps stood Griffin’s family.
“‘Bout time you caught a live one,” the older gentleman said. “But you might want to bring her out of the sun. She’s turning pink.”
EPILOGUE
Tatra Mountains, Poland A Month Later
Kazi stuffed her hands in the wool coat. A bitter wind swirled up and rustled loose strands from her face. She cast a furtive glance to Griffin, who stood on the other side of the Land Rover.
“You can do it, Baby Girl.” His smooth skin rippled under the confident smile.
She licked her lips and returned her attention to the small gate that protected a rustic home and barn from the country road that wound through the mountains. A brilliant blue sky tossed clouds around. With a slow exhale, she crossed the road. Dirt and pebbles crunched beneath her boots. She swallowed.
At the gate, she paused with her hand on the sodden wood. The snow had melted but only recently. She lifted the iron catch and pushed against the barrier. It gave with a slow creak.
As she trod down the left rut gouged into the earth, she wondered why it didn’t feel familiar. Right. Shouldn’t she feel some connection to this place? According to city records, the family had owned the land for more than a hundred years. She rounded a small bend. Trees embraced her into the small fold of forestation.
Kazi checked on Griffin—but now she couldn’t see him.
She stopped, feeling as much cut off from an oxygen source as from the line of sight on the man who’d changed her life. Convinced her to make this trek. No, she couldn’t do this without Griffin. She shouldn’t have insisted on trying. She should go back. Before anyone saw her.
She pivoted.
“Nie wierz? w to!”
Jerked around by the rough voice that cut through her panic, she found herself staring at a pair of familiar green eyes and blond
hair.
No…not familiar. Her own.
Their gazes locked, neither moved.
He stared and slowly lowered his hands—the bundle of wood slid from his grasp. “Przepraszam! Sorry.” He bent toward the wood but then stopped, his gaze flipping back to hers. “You are the image of her. I…can’t believe it.”
“My name…” A lump swelled in her throat.
“Kazimiera.” He smiled, as if relieved.
Something warm and intimate passed between them, but she wasn’t sure what.
“H–how do you know my name?”
The man placed a large hand on his chest, his features softening. “I’m Kazpar.”
Her heart thudded. Raced. She tried to take a breath not weighted by the anchor of revelation. “My twin,” she whispered. He’d changed so very much. Grown up. Become a man.
He took a step forward, and she saw in his face the decade of loneliness and emptiness that had plagued her. Kazi rushed into his opening arms. His embrace held the scent of family, of acceptance, and…love. Hot tears streaked down her cheeks.
He stepped back and cupped her face. “Jeste? tak piekna. So beautiful, like our mother.”
“Kaz?” A feminine voice called through the wintry day. “Where is that wood?”
His eyes brightened. “Come. She will not believe this!”
“Wait,” Kazi said. “I need to get someone.” She jogged back to the car.
Leaning against the car, arms folded and blowing on his hands, Griffin looked up. He scowled as he came off the small compact—fists tight, shoulders hunched—all fight. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She smiled through her tears—she’d cried more tears since meeting Griffin Riddell than she had in the last ten years. Kazi threw her arms around him and held on tight. “I can’t believe you found them. Thank you!” That he’d done the research, tracked them down, then brought her here…“I love you!”
“That’s all I want, Baby Girl. Your love.” He kissed her head. “I can face anything if I have that.”
Firethorn (Discarded Heroes) Page 38
