The Way We Were

by Shandi Boyes

  Chapter 22

  Ryan

  I rise from my crouched position with my hands held in the air like I’m under arrest. Although Savannah finds my cowardly approach amusing, I can see a smidge of jealousy in her fiery gaze.

  “If you break my daughter’s heart, Ryan Carter, I’ll never forgive you.”

  Although she uses Rylee as an excuse to issue her threat, I heard the message her stern tone highlighted. She’s not worried about Rylee getting hurt; she’s petrified of putting her heart on the line.

  “I’ll never hurt her, Savannah. I promise.”

  Just like I perceived the underlying message in Savannah’s warning, she heard mine in my reply. I secure my first lung-filling gulp of air since her mouth was torn from mine when her lips tug into a smirk.

  Her smile has me wanting to reacquaint our mouths, but the time displayed on her microwave has me unable to act on my desires. My unexpected nap has set me back an hour already, and I need at least a day—if not a year—to adequately worship Savannah's mouth with the dedication it deserves.

  “Is this everything?” I ask Savannah, peering down at the suitcases Savannah packed yesterday morning.

  While waiting for Alex to devise our next move, Savannah and Rylee are moving into my apartment. A normal man would be shitting bricks at the idea of having his domain overrun with feminine products.

  I’m not a normal man.

  In all honesty, I can’t wait. In forty-eight hours, ten years of torment has unraveled. I was so angry believing Savannah’s lack of contact was because she was a scorned woman. I was wrong—so very, very wrong.

  And I was man enough to admit it.

  I divulged my mistakes in great depth to Savannah at 5 AM this morning. She was just as open as me. We shared everything and anything. I even told her what happened the night my dad was killed, and confessed to what I said to Chris the day he died.

  Within an hour, nothing was left on the table. Some of the stories shared broke my heart, but the weight our conversation lifted off my shoulders was immense. I truly feel like I can face any obstacle placed in front of me without worry. I’m that weightless.

  We have a long way to go before the dust of the past decade settles, but having Savannah in my life is as second nature as breathing. She belongs with me. She’s my girl.

  Savannah huffs, drawing my focus to her heavy scowl. “Yep. My entire life in three little bags. How pathetic am I?”

  I catch her wrists and pull her to my body. “Who needs money when you have the world? You’re a mom, Savannah. There's no greater gift than that.”

  Her smile grows. “You wouldn’t think highly of my mothering skills if you knew the thoughts crossing my mind when Rylee kissed you.” With a pout, she peers at Rylee watching cartoons in the living room. “My daughter is crushing on the man I’ve never stopped loving. This could end disastrously for all involved.”

  Suddenly, her spine snaps straight and her eyes missile back to mine. I can see a million thoughts streaming through her eyes, but not a syllable seeps from her lips.

  Unfortunately, my mouth has no qualms expressing itself. “You love me?” I say my L word with an immaturity a man my age shouldn’t have.

  I swear to god, I feel like I’ve whizzed back fifteen plus years to the time I coerced Savannah to kiss me. I pretended to be mortified by the idea, where in reality, I was dying without her lips on mine. She’d been eating Hershey kisses the thirty minutes prior, acutely reminding me I was a teen boy with teen issues. I thought the throaty moans she released while devouring her treat would be the highlight of my night. It wasn’t. The sugary sweetness of her mouth was ten times better.

  The air in my lungs evicts in a grunt when Savannah's elbow pops into my ribs. "Don't be a noodle. You’re Rylee's first crush, Ry. This is as serious as it comes."

  “Why?” I ask, truly lost.

  Savannah’s teeth graze her bottom lip before she murmurs, “She’s never loved a man before. She’ll get hurt if you don’t love her back.”

  “Then you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

  Savannah’s brows furrow, confusion slashed across her face.

  “Did you love your dad, Savannah?”

  She nods without hesitation. “Very much so. I still do.”

  I smile. “And did he love you in return?”

  “He adored me as much as I adored him,” she mumbles, her eyes welling with tears.

  “Then who’s to say Rylee is crushing on me like you did when you were four?”

  The seriousness of our conversation can’t stop Savannah’s eyes rolling skywards. “Cocky much, Officer Carter?”

  She can deny it all she wants; I know she was as smitten with me as I was her at the same age.

  After tugging her a little closer, I say, "Rylee's never had a man in her life; maybe her kiss was a way of showing you who she wants."

  “Who she wants or what she wants?” Savannah seeks clarification.

  “This isn’t an open submission, Savannah. There are no other applicants or an extensive interview process. I was just filling you in on the deets Rylee and I prearranged.”

  Savannah bites on her cheek to hide her smile. “Is that so?” she murmurs, her hot breath hitting my lips.

  “Uh-huh.” I bring my mouth closer to hers.

  I feel her pulse throb through her body when she asks, “When was this conversation? You only met Rylee twenty minutes ago.”

  “It was a long time ago,” I murmur against her scrumptious lips.

  She moans when my tongue can’t hold back its desire for a moment longer. It slashes her mouth, nearly drowning out her, “How long ago?”

  “When does Rylee turn four?” I nip at her lower lip.

  “In thirteen days,” she murmurs breathlessly.

  “Thirteen days?” I double-check.

  When she nods, I say, “Then in thirteen days, our decision was made four years ago. Right around the time you named her after me. You knew she’d be my daughter one day, so you made sure her name suited her title.”

  Savannah’s heavy-hooded gaze snaps from my mouth to my eyes, but she doesn’t deny my claims. She can’t. She’s never been a fan of lying.

  Chapter 23

  Savannah

  I think I've died and gone to heaven. Or at the very least, my heart is sitting in a gooey puddle at my feet. Ryan just disclosed the exact reason I named Rylee after him. He isn't just a man I've loved for decades; he's my soulmate. His deceit hurt me, but it wasn't so scarring that it erased the promises we made when we were young. Although Rylee isn't Ryan's daughter, just her having my blood makes her partly his. I belong to Ryan—heart, mind, and body. And from the smitten grin on Rylee's face when she boldly kissed him, I’m realizing I'm not the only Fontane under his spell.

  One of the reasons I kept Rylee’s identity secret from Ryan was because I was worried about the repercussions. I birthed a child with another man, then named her after a man I believed cheated on me. I don’t know about you, but that sounds pretty pathetic to me, much less the fact of how Rylee was conceived. The day she was created will forever haunt me, but her beautiful face helped the memory fade so much it is nothing but a blur.

  Keifer didn’t rape me, but when you’re coerced to do a sexual act for the fear of not being fed for a week, it is nearly the same thing. But even with the circumstances of Rylee’s conception out of my control, I’ll always see her as a gift, not a burden. She’s been the only one fueling my wish to live the past four years, so I could never see her as anything less than a miracle.

  As the days rolled on, I realized I wasn't just lying to Ryan, I was lying to myself. Facing a fear head-on is the right thing to do, but when your beliefs are stripped away from you as cruelly as Keifer stripped mine, you doubt everyone, even a man you’ve known most of your life.

  Just like Axel, I disliked Keifer on sight. He was rude to his fellow officers, and he always eyed me in a way that made me uncomfortable. When I expressed my conce
rns to Tobias, he voiced similar worries. Keifer was removed from my protective detail the very next day. I thought that was the last time I'd hear from him. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case.

  After Tobias was killed in an FBI sting gone wrong, Keifer was placed on my protective detail again. Well, so I thought at the time.

  When our contact with the department went from weekly updates to being basically non-existent, I started asking questions. Keifer handled my first few inquiries in the manner Tobias always used: "When I know something, you'll know something."

  It was only when my father’s wedding ring slipped off my thumb did I discover the horrifying truth. A rummage down the side of a leather recliner unearthed a withdrawal slip from a local bank. Usually, that stuff wouldn’t interest me, but it wasn’t just the excessive amount on the withdrawal that had me choking back spit, it was my name attached to one I had not previously used: Keifer’s surname.

  The first time Keifer struck me was when I revealed what I found. I was astounded. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. But there was one thing I did know—I wasn't going to put up with his abuse.

  But I was as naïve as I was young.

  Members of Keifer's family thwarted my first and second attempts to flee. My third, fourth, and fifth endeavors were ruined by associates of his. By my six attempt, Keifer was no longer pleased by the challenge.

  Could you imagine wishing to die mere hours before being informed you're carrying a life? I taunted Keifer that night as I wanted him to kill me. I didn't want to suffer anymore. He answered my pleas with the accuracy of a deranged man. I nearly lost my life that night, only to discover I was three months pregnant with Rylee the next morning.

  Everything changed in an instant.

  I nearly killed my daughter—me.

  That hurt me more than Keifer’s fists.

  I scribbled my escape plan on a mini notepad a student nurse gave me at the hospital. She was the same nurse who delivered Rylee six months later.

  I don’t even know her name, but I owe her my life.

  The first few months on the run were tough, but my dad's quote kept me thriving. There are days where I feel like I’ve been running for decades, and other days feel like I only fled yesterday. Then there are days like today, where one glance into a pair of blue eyes makes me forget all the horrible things that have happened to me.

  I want to pretend I used Abby’s name as it was my last resort, but that would be a lie. I was sick of running; I was tired of looking over my shoulder. It was time for Rylee and me to live instead of just surviving. My baby girl deserves the world, and with Ryan’s help, I think we can give her that.

  The brush of a thumb over my midsection returns my focus to the present. Ryan is glancing down at me, his heavy-hooded gaze as honest as the words he just spoke. Is it possible to fall in love in less than a nanosecond? Because I swear that's what happened when my eyes first landed on Ryan over twenty-five years ago.

  It was only the quickest boom-boom of my heart before he somersaulted over his handlebars and broke his arm in two places, but it’s never thumped in the same rhythm since that day. I didn’t think any man could outshine my dad. Ryan did, and he was only a boy at the time.

  While my teeth graze my bottom lip, I lock my eyes with Ryan. “Promise me, Ry—”

  “I promise,” he interrupts, stealing the rest of my words.

  I frown, pretending I’m not loving his eagerness. “You don’t even know what I was going to ask.”

  He cocks his dark brow into his glossy locks. “I know, Savannah. Believe me, I know.” He runs his index finger down the crinkle in my nose before adding on, “And I won’t. I learned my lesson. I won’t break your heart...”

  I attempt to interrupt him, encouraging him to speak faster, “And I also won’t change...if you promise to do the same.”

  “I promise,” I reply as eagerly as he did.

  I grin like a loon when he holds out his pinkie for us to seal our pledge. A simple curl of fingers might not seem like much to an outsider, but to me, it’s the world. Just like me, when Ryan issues you his promise, you have it for life.

  Before I can show Ryan my gratitude for his pledge, a knock sounds at my apartment door. Ryan stops my steps with a quick tug of my arm before lifting his finger to his mouth, signaling for me to be quiet.

  “Who knows you live here?” he whispers while removing his gun from the top of my fridge.

  My heart rate skyrockets. “Other than Regina, no one. Could it be Regina?”

  Ryan nods, but the anxiety in his eyes is nowhere near as confident. I can understand his hesitation. Regina knows I’m cautious about security, so she usually calls before arriving.

  Just as Ryan crouches down to gain Rylee’s attention, a loud bang rockets through my eardrums. Wood splintering is closely followed by a silver canister rolling across the floor of my living room.

  Ryan swings his head to me in sickening slow motion. “Get down!” he screams before charging for Rylee.

  The blast from the canister knocks me on my ass, causing my head to hit the dining table on my way down. I cradle my throbbing skull in my hands as blinding lights and smoke fill my apartment. I sit, stunned, for barely ten seconds, but it is long enough for guilt to set in. My daughter is in another room being protected by a man she only met thirty minutes ago.

  Fighting through nauseating wooziness, I crawl into the living room on my hands and knees. My ears are ringing from the blast, and smoke is burning my eyes, but it doesn't encumber my senses enough to miss the terrifying visual in front of me. Even with his midsection rounder than the last time I saw him and a sprinkling of grays on his temples, I have no trouble recognizing the man standing in my living room. It is Keifer—the monster from my dreams.

  He has Rylee clutched in his arms, and his pistol is braced on her right temple. Ryan is standing across from them with blood gushing from a large gash above his right brow and his gun directed at a point between Keifer's eyebrows.

  “Mommy,” Rylee cries, struggling to get out of her father’s clutches.

  "It's okay, baby, it's okay," I assure her, crawling closer. My words are barely heard through the panic constricting my throat, but Rylee understands them. Not only do her tears stop, but so do the big shakes hampering her tiny body.

  "Drop your weapon, or I'll shoot her," Keifer warns Ryan with his country twang on full display.

  “No,” Ryan replies, shocking me with his calm, non-affected tone.

  A madman has my baby at his mercy; how can he be so calm?

  "Please don't," I beg when Keifer's anger gets the better of him. He digs the barrel of his gun so profoundly into Rylee's temple, fresh tears roll down her ashen cheeks.

  “Do you want your daughter to die, Savannah?! Do you want her blood on your hands?!” Keifer glares at me like I’m a piece of shit under his shoe.

  “No,” I reply, shaking my head so fiercely my brain rattles in my skull. “Just let her go, Keifer, please.”

  My plea reveals what Ryan already knew. He's facing my demon head on.

  “Then tell him to lower his gun.” Keifer’s demand is so loud I wouldn’t be shocked to discover half the block heard it.

  My eyes bounce between Ryan and Keifer as my mind scrambles for a response. I know Ryan would never place Rylee’s life at risk, but trust has been an issue for me all of my adult life.

  My heart wallops into my ribs when I lock my eyes with Ryan and demand, “Please lower your gun.”

  “No, Savannah. I can take him out. He’ll be dead before his finger gets near the trigger.”

  As if bombarded with stupidity from Ryan’s pledge, Keifer’s index finger curls around the trigger of his gun before he slowly inches it back. He compresses it until it is halfway cocked.

  “No, no, please no,” I beg with tears streaming down my face. “She’s your daughter too, Keifer. Do you really want to kill your own blood?”

  “Yes, she's my daughter, yet you still took her a
way from me!” he roars, sending spit flying out of his mouth.

  “Mommy,” Rylee cries, her voice as broken as my heart feels.

  Keifer clutches her more firmly, stealing the rest of her words with a tight compression.

  “It’s okay, baby. You’ll be okay, I promise.”

  After assuring her she is safe with just my eyes, I raise them to Keifer. I can hear Ryan continuously pleading with him to stand down, but I can’t make out all the words he is saying. The image of my baby being held captive by the man I fear more than anyone isn’t just affecting my hearing, it is threatening my very sanity.

  “Please, Keifer. I’ll do anything you want, just let her go. She didn’t do anything wrong. It was me. I stole her from you. I kept her hidden. If you want to blame anyone, blame me.”

  Keifer’s finger remains clamped on the trigger, but the cleft between his brows is nowhere near as deep. I’m getting through to him.

  “You don’t want Rylee; you’ve never wanted kids. But you want me.” His eyes snap to mine during my last sentence.

  I hold my hands against my thudding chest. Its mad beat triples when I ask, “Do you still want me, Keifer? Am I still what you need?”

  “Savannah, don’t,” Ryan warns, recognizing what I'm doing. His voice relays he isn’t happy about my decision, but he also understands nothing is above me when it comes to protecting Rylee.

  When Keifer’s glassy brown gaze answers my question on his behalf, I say, “Let Rylee go, then we can get out of here.”

  Ryan’s thighs stiffen as he tightens his grip on the butt on his gun. If my plan works out as I'm hoping, the instant Keifer releases Rylee from his grip, Ryan will pounce.

  Unfortunately Keifer is as smart as he is violent. “Disarm him first.” He nudges his head to Ryan.

  “No,” Ryan replies, his response more for me than Keifer. “This is your last warning, I will shoot you if you do not heed my caution. This is not a negotiation.”

  I crawl closer to Rylee when Keifer grips her so tightly, a painful wheeze parts her blue-tinged lips. He's clutching her so constrictively her lungs are struggling to fill with oxygen.