The strength I’d built up over the past four years fell away. “I’m still scared.”
He held me to his chest. “Me, too,” he admitted. “But, I promise to work hard every damned day to make sure our fears don’t come true.” He kissed the top of my head. I took a deep breath and shook off all the doubts I’d been drowning in for four years. “That little girl broke my heart when she called me Daddy. And I wouldn’t have had it any other way.”
My chest swelled. I believed him when he said he loved me and my daughter, because I knew what love looked like. I didn’t know if I should allow myself to hope that Georgia could really have a father after all. I wasn’t convinced that love would be enough.
I wondered how two people so beaten down by the dark reality of their lives could raise another living soul and not fuck it up entirely.
How could broken plus broken ever equal whole?
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
SORTING THROUGH WHAT I THOUGHT was the last of the boxes was not my idea of a good time, but it had to be done. I could have smacked Jake when he so thoughtfully reminded me there were still a few boxes over at the apartment. He must have known that I was about to toss the remainder of them into the canal, so he volunteered to go get them for me instead.
We were taking things slow, but I would be lying if I said that Georgia was anything other than completely head over heels in love with him. We’d been functioning like a little family for a week. It was what I’d been dreaming of since Georgia was born, though I never really thought I could have it. I still owed Jake the truth about Owen. It was something I never wanted to relive, even during my darkest days. It was certainly the last thing I wanted to do during the happy ones.
The front door opened and the screen door slammed shut. “That was quick. Just bring them in here, and stack it in the corner. I’ll sort it all out tomorrow. I’ve done so much today, my eyes are starting to cross.” I folded the cardboard from the now empty box I’d been working on. When did I get so much stuff? Jake hadn’t come into the living room yet, and he didn’t answer me. “Jake?” I called out. He didn’t answer. “Babe?”
Instead of his welcome voice answering, a much more menacing one called back. “You’ve never called me babe before. I like the way it sounds.” Owen appeared in the room, shotgun in hand that he’d aimed at my chest. I made a move to run. “Don’t fucking move.”
My mind was racing.
My first thoughts went to Georgia, napping in her bedroom. Please don’t wake up... please.
I had to focus on how to get him out of the house and away from my sleeping child.
“Okay Owen. Let’s just go outside, and we can talk about whatever you want,” I said. I was willing to go anywhere he wanted, as long as it meant getting him away from my baby.
“Not so fast, Miss Abby.” He glanced around the room. “It’s been a while since I’ve been in here. Matter of fact, last time I was here I was having a lovely conversation about you, with your Nan.”
When had he ever been in this house with Nan?
“What the fuck did you do to her?”
“Nothing. I just talked to her.” His face was troubled, like he couldn’t understand why I’d be concerned. “I came to see you that day, but you weren’t here. Your Nan was kind enough to make me some tea. She was so nice to me. She just talked and talked. And somewhere in the middle, she let it slip that the house was in foreclosure. She knew she wouldn’t have anywhere for you two to live but didn’t want to rain on your parade, what with graduation coming up so soon, so she kept it from you. She wasn’t going to be able to take care of you. I couldn’t let that happen.” He smiled, as if he thought I’d be happy to hear all of this. “I watched you every day after your Nan died, looking out for you, protecting you. I even let you stay in that junkyard so you could get a taste of how it felt to sleep among the trash before I came to your rescue. It killed me to do this, but I called social services. I needed you to see how desperate things would be for you without help. From me.”
Owen took a step toward me, his twisted concern turning to anger. “Then, Jake fucking Dunn swooped into town and played the hero. And what did you do, Abby? You jumped right into his apartment and into his fucking bed.”