by K. C. Lynn
Instead of answering, he looks up at his father behind me. I turn around to see Sawyer shaking his head. “He isn’t wearing any bow tie, Cupcake.”
“Why not? It looks adorable.”
“I’m with Dad, Mom. I don’t wanna wear it.”
I look back at Parker, his expression saying it all. “Oh all right, if ya don’t like it, you don’t have to wear it.” I grab Hope’s flower and pin it in her hair. “Go on and have a seat at the table, your oatmeal should be cooled enough now.”
“Morning, boy,” Sawyer greets Parker, putting out his fist for him to bump.
“Morning, Dad.”
“You excited about today?”
“Yep.”
“You’re going to take good care of your sister, right?”
“Yep. Don’t worry, me and Beckett got this,” he assures him. “If anyone will be bugging her it’ll be us!” he adds with a chuckle, bringing a smile to my face.
That boy is so much like his father it terrifies me.
Hope’s little face scrunches up. “You boys better not or I’ll give ya a what for,” she says, shaking her fist at him.
“All right, eat up now, both of ya.” I move to the counter to grab their lunch boxes when a beeping noise ensues, alerting us of someone’s arrival. It always goes off when someone turns onto our driveway.
Sawyer looks at me. “You expecting someone?”
“Yeah, I’ll get it. It’s probably Mrs. Kershaw. She’s supposed to be dropping off a cake pan I lent her.” At the sound of the doorbell I pass the lunch boxes to Sawyer. “Can you put these in their backpacks please?”
Leaving the kitchen, I walk past the living room to the front door and open it with a smile that quickly vanishes when I see it’s not Mrs. Kershaw. I blink several times, thinking the man standing before me isn’t who I think it is.
It can’t be.
“Grace.” My father greets me with a nod, his expression somber.
My pulse kicks up, that long buried ache in my chest rising to the surface. “Governor,” I say, proud of myself for how strong my voice sounds but then quickly remember he isn’t the governor any longer.
“I know it’s early and I’m sorry to barge in on you like this, but…I was hoping I could speak with you for a moment. It’s important.”
I continue to stare at him, still having a hard time believing he’s here. A part of me wants so badly to slam the door in his face and tell him to go to hell. But the other part is curious as to why the man who threw me away like a dirty little secret is showing up here now after all these years. It’s that part that has me taking a step back and allowing him to enter.
“Thank you,” he says, stepping in.
After closing the door, I invite him to take a seat in the living room. Before he can sit on the couch, Sawyer walks in with Hope in his arms. “Grace, baby, where’s…” He trails off and comes to an abrupt halt when he sees who’s standing in our living room. There’s only a split second of shock that resonates on his face before fury replaces it. “What the fuck are you doing in my house?”
“Sawyer!” I snap, looking at Hope, whose smile diminishes, sensing the tension.
“What’s wrong, Dad?” Parker asks, walking into the room. He looks back and forth between Sawyer and my father. “Who’s this guy?”
Clearing his throat, my father is the one to speak first. “Well hello, you must be Parker and Hope,” he says, surprising me. “I’m—”
“Parker, take your sister and go into your room,” Sawyer orders, putting Hope to her feet. “Don’t come back out until I tell you to.”
“Okay, Dad.”
I try to give a reassuring smile as Parker leads Hope from the room, letting them know everything will be all right. Once the bedroom door closes, Sawyer takes a menacing step toward my father. “I don’t know what the hell you’re doing here but if you don’t get the fuck out of my house—”
“Sawyer, stop!” I step in front of him, pressing against his chest.
“Listen, I understand you don’t want me here and I don’t blame you, but I need to speak with Grace. I wouldn’t have bothered you both if this wasn’t a matter of life and death.”
There’s a crack in his voice that has me turning around to face him. For the first time I notice how haggard and worn he looks rather than the clean-cut politician he portrays himself to be. Or at least from what I’ve seen the odd time in the newspaper. This man is someone I try to avoid seeing at all costs, which is usually pretty easy since I’m here in Sunset Bay and I ignore all things political.
“Please, just a few minutes of your time,” he says, looking at me instead of Sawyer.
“It has to be quick. I need to get my kids off to school.” I can feel Sawyer’s disapproval at my back but he remains quiet.
“I understand.” Instead of taking a seat, he drags a hand down his face, letting out a weary breath. “There’s no easy way to say this so I’m just going to do it and hope you’ll hear me out. As you know I have two other daughters—”
“I know you have two daughters, yes.” I don’t let him get away with saying ‘other’ because he’s only ever had two. Which is fine because I have Mac and he’s been more of a father to me than anyone ever has.
“My oldest, Piper, she’s twenty-one and in college.” He continues to talk as if I didn’t correct him. “My other one, Lucy, is seventeen and supposed to graduate this year.” His eyes drop to the floor, his voice solemn.
“Get on with it, old man, my patience is wearing thin,” Sawyer warns.
My father’s eyes lock with mine, tears brimming in their depths. “Two weeks ago she got very sick. Just out of the blue. She’s always been a healthy kid. We just thought it was the flu. Except one night after cheerleading practice she passed out. Her coach called 9-1-1 and she was rushed to the hospital. We found out she had a severe bacterial infection and it entered her bloodstream. It almost killed her. Thankfully, the doctors were able to stop it, but not before it attacked her kidneys. Both are damaged beyond repair,” he says, a tear slipping down his face before he quickly wipes it away and clears his throat. “She’s on dialysis now but it’s not doing much and she’s getting sicker. It’s not something she can remain on much longer. She needs a kidney transplant and she needs one sooner rather than later or she will not survive.”
My heart breaks, thinking about the young girl who should still have so much life ahead of her. “Are the doctors going to give her a transplant?” I ask, still wondering why he’s telling me all of this.
“They don’t have a match. Lucy’s blood type is rare and she can only receive a kidney from someone who has the same type. No one in my family is a match…except one.”
I swallow thickly, my hands beginning to tremble, having a pretty good idea which one, but I ask anyway. “What’s the blood type?”
“O negative,” he replies, his eyes remaining locked with mine.
“You son of a bitch.” Sawyer’s furious tone has a shiver working down my spine. “How dare you think you can come here and put this on her.”
“I don’t have anyone else to ask.”
“You find someone else,” Sawyer bellows, moving around me. “You’re not jeopardizing my wife’s life for your daughter’s, you piece of shit!”
“There is no one else,” my father yells back, his own temper flaring. “Do you think I’d be here if I had anyone else?” Even though I already knew this, his comment still strikes me to the core. “That’s not what I meant,” he rushes to say, but it’s too late.
Sawyer grabs the back of his suit jacket, dragging him to the front door, while I remain frozen in spot, rendered speechless.
“Please, Grace, just consider it,” he begs, his voice desperate. “She needs you. She’s only seventeen.”
Sawyer flings open the door and pushes him through it. “Get the fuck off my property and don’t ever come near my family again.”
The slam of the door makes me flinch, knocking me out of my
stunned state. Walking into the kitchen, I brace my hands on the counter and take deep breaths, trying to grasp what just happened.
She needs you. She’s only seventeen.
The broken words replay in my head, striking me in the heart.
“Don’t even think about it.” I spin around to see Sawyer watching me, his eyes harboring a concealed rage most people never want to see released. “This isn’t your problem.”
“How can you say that?” I ask on a whisper.
“Because it’s the goddamn truth.” He moves to stand in front of me. “You’re not even going to think about this. We are not going to talk about it. We’re going to pretend that bastard never showed up and continue on with our lives. Do you understand?”
My back goes straight, my turmoil quickly switching to anger. “Watch it, Sawyer. Don’t you be orderin’ me around like a dog. I have no idea what I’m gonna do but this is my decision and mine alone.”
“Bullshit it is! You’re my wife—”
“And this is my body,” I scream back. “How dare you try to tell me what to do.”
“Are you telling me you’re actually considering this? You’d risk us losing you?”
I shake my head, my heart slicing open at the thought. “No. I just…I don’t know what to think. I don’t know anythin’. All I know is you have no right to take away my decision.”
“There is no decision! We’re your family. We are what’s important. He can find someone else to help his family while I do what I need to do, to protect mine.”
“Mama, Daddy, why are y’all fightin’?”
My head snaps to the side at the sound of Hope’s wobbly voice. Parker stands next to her, his arm around her as he glares at Sawyer. Covering my mouth I turn around, wanting to shield them from my pain.
“We aren’t fighting, Shortcake. Just having a little disagreement is all, but it’s fine now. Nothing to sweat about,” Sawyer assures her.
“Promise?” she asks softly.
“Yeah. I promise.”
Gathering my composure, I turn around to see Sawyer holding her while standing next to Parker with a hand on his shoulder.
“Your father’s right, everythin’ is fine,” I lie, giving them a smile that I’m sure isn’t fooling them, because the fact of the matter is, everything’s far from fine.
“Come on now, let’s get to school.”
CHAPTER THREE
Sawyer
After dropping the kids off I parted ways with Grace, and not the way I intended to this morning. Storming into the gym I head straight for the locker room with my bag in hand, ignoring everyone’s stares and greetings, my blood still on fire.
I slam open my locker and intend to throw my bag in but end up taking my aggression out on it. My fist crushes the metal over and over, the jarring impact doing nothing to lessen the rage pumping through me.
By the time I’m done with it the door barely hangs on by its hinges. “Fuck!” Ripping it off, I throw it to the other side of the room and see Sarge standing there, watching me.
He looks down at where the crushed locker door sits then back at me, taking a bite of his breakfast burrito. “Everything okay?”
Before I can respond, Jaxson and Cade come walking in to see my destruction.
Sarge points at me. “He did it.”
“What the fuck is your problem?” Jaxson asks.
“Nothing,” I grumble and go pick up the wrecked door to throw it out.
“Yeah, nothin’,” Sarge mocks. “Haven’t ya ever seen someone beat the shit out of a locker for the hell of it?”
I glare at him, not appreciating his smart-ass comment.
“What’s going on, Evans?” Cade asks.
“That motherfucker had the balls to come to my house and ask my wife to jeopardize her fucking life for his daughter.”
Jaxson straightens. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Usually, I’d keep something like this private but they’re family. Reining in my fury, I tell them the whole story, right from the moment the bastard showed up to when I kicked him out and fought with Grace.
“Jesus, who the fuck does he think he is, risking one daughter’s life for another?” Jaxson says, sounding as pissed as me.
“Exactly! You know he doesn’t give a shit about Grace, he never has.”
“What did Grace say?” Cade asks.
“Nothing. She just stood there in shock, and was probably pretty fucking hurt.”
Then I went and added to it.
No, I refuse to go there. I put my foot down because I know her. She would consider it. She has the biggest heart out of anyone I know, but there’s no fucking way I’m risking her. Just the thought has my lungs constricting painfully.
“You know this is her decision, right? You can’t tell her no,” Cade says, knocking me from my thoughts.
“The hell I can’t. Don’t you tell me you’d let Faith do this.”
“I wouldn’t want her to. I’d try to talk her out of it, but in the end it’s not my decision just like it’s not yours.”
“She’s my wife and the mother of my children. You’re damn right I have a say, and I fucking say no!”
“I’m with him,” Jaxson says, backing me up. “No way would I let Julia risk herself. I feel sorry for the girl going through this, and I hope they find someone to help her, but it’s not fair to ask this of Grace.”
“I’m not saying it’s fair. I’m saying he can’t decide for her.”
“I agree with the big guy here.” Sarge jerks his thumb at Cade before taking another bite of his burrito.
“Too late, I already did, and I’m not backing down. She isn’t doing this.”
I won’t risk losing her.
Not—fucking—happening.
And if that bastard ever comes near her again, it will be the last thing he does.
CHAPTER FOUR
Grace
“I’m telling you, Grace, I think my boy has a crush on your girl,” Kayla says with a smile while I wipe down the counter she’s sitting at. “He told me all about his first day of school, and how he did not like that some other boy was talking with Hope, asking her to play with him at recess. Apparently he and Parker shut that down fast,” she adds with a chuckle. “I think back to how stressed he was about what to buy her for a birthday gift and now this… Yep, no doubt, my boy has a crush.”
Hearing that brings the first genuine smile to my face and warmth to my heart since the disaster yesterday morning. “That’s adorable, and here she wonders why he’s always pickin’ on her with Parker.”
“Exactly, it’s because he likes her. That’s how boys show it at this age.” She shrugs. “All in all it seems yesterday was a good day for them. I’m glad the three of them got into the same class.”
“Yeah, me, too. The kids said they had a great day. I just wish our morning started out better,” I say, trying to find a way to lead into telling her about my father because I need someone to talk to.
She immediately senses my turmoil and straightens. “What happened?”
Looking around at the few patrons sitting in booths, I lean in closer and tell her all about my father’s unexpected visit. The expression on her face would be comical if there were anything funny about this situation, but there’s not.
“What a bastard. He’s got some nerve,” she seethes quietly.
“I’m trying so hard not to be hurt. I knew he didn’t love me, but for him to ask me to risk myself for his other daughter…it really stings, Kayla.”
Reaching over, she lays her hand on mine. “I’m sorry.”
“You know what’s the saddest part of all?” I whisper sadly, trying to keep my emotions in check.
“What?”
“That a seventeen-year-old girl is dying and I may be her only hope.”
She immediately shakes her head. “No. Grace, listen to me. My heart hurts for this girl too, and I pray they are able to help her, but you cannot take this on as your responsibili
ty.” I remain quiet because I’m not so sure I agree. “What did Sawyer have to say?”
I scoff but feel my heart ache all over again. We haven’t spoken since and I hate it, hate the tension surrounding us, especially when I need him now more than ever.
“Uh oh, that bad?”
“Yeah. He was so angry and we got into a horrible argument. He got all bossy and told me that I won’t be considerin’ it.”
“Sounds like him,” she says, knowing my husband all too well. “As much as that man can be a hothead just remember he loves you and he’s scared.”
“I know. Hard to remember that though when we’re both still mad and not talkin’ to each other.”
“Well maybe that’s the problem. Maybe you should talk to him. Tell him how hurt you are with how he reacted. Get it off your chest.”
I nod. “Yeah, you’re right.”
She glances down at her phone before looking at me regretfully. “I’m so sorry, I gotta run. I have an appointment in twenty minutes then I need to pick Ella up from preschool. You going to be okay?”
I wave her away. “Yes, yes. You know me, I’m always okay.”
She comes around the counter and gives me a hug. “Stay strong, Grace. Let me know if you need anything. I’ll call you this evening and we’ll talk more.”
“Thank you.”
“Anytime.” Stepping back, she grabs her purse and heads for the door. “Bye.”
“Bye,” I say softly.
The booth of teenage girls leave after her, giving me a small wave that I return. It leaves only Mr. and Mrs. Atkins. With a smile I go refill their coffee mugs then get things ready for the lunch rush. The bell over the door jingles while I’m putting out more slices of pie in the display case.
“Just a moment please,” I say, quickly arranging the slices. I look up to greet the person with a smile that diminishes when I see who it is. The sad woman is someone I recognize but have never met. Even if I hadn’t seen pictures of her back when I first looked up my father years ago I’d know who she was by the devastation in her eyes.
“Grace Evans?” she asks, pain as thick in her voice as it is on her face.
