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I had to think Ezra might have found me anyway. That someway, somehow, our paths would have led us to each other.
That we would have collided.
It seemed impossible now that it would have turned out any other way.
Another tear slipped down Jessica’s soaked cheek, and I hesitated before I asked, “Did you decide what you’re going to do?”
She wavered for a moment, before her voice filled with both hope and uncertainty. “I’m going to go to the facility that the social worker suggested. Heal the best that I can. Learn how to stand for myself. After that, if you’ll forgive me, I’d like to be wherever you are.”
“There is nothing to forgive, Jessica. And this is my home now. With Ezra and his kids. And I’ll be right here waiting for you. Whenever you’re ready.”
FIFTY-NINE
EZRA
“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!”
I’d not even fully stepped through the door of the house before I was hit with a barrage of little voices calling me by my favorite name. All three kids hopped up from the living room floor where they were playing a board game with their grandmother.
Faces so full of joy at seeing me that it struck through me like a rod of lightning.
A stake of belonging.
They came flying my way, arms above their heads as they raced across the living room.
I knelt, ignoring the stabbing pain that lanced up my side. The only thing that mattered right then was holding them.
“Careful,” Savannah said, voice soft where she stood at my side, carrying in the bag that she’d brought me so I could change into regular clothes after I’d been discharged from the hospital.
Olivia skidded to a stop, and she grabbed her brothers by the hands. On a dime, the kid turned into caretaker mode. “That’s right. Dad got an injury, and we have to be really cautious and make sure we don’t hurt him any more than he already got hurt.”
“Is you hurt, Daddy?” Owen asked in his sweet way. He was held in place by his big sister, though his little body drifted my way as he peered at me.
Reaching out, I ran my palm down his cheek. “I’m just about all better. Give me a couple of days, and you can start climbing all over me again.”
“’Cause I’m a kowawa.”
“That’s right.”
“And then we can play football!” Oliver shouted, jumping from one foot to the other and throwing a fist in the air.
A chuckle rolled free. “You want to play football, huh?”
“Daddy, you know I gotta do a blitz, and I’m going to do a blitz on you!”
Savannah laughed at my side. A throaty, beautiful sound that wrapped me in a comfort unlike anything I’d ever known. When I glanced up at her, I caught her gazing down at the four of us, affection so stark on her stunning face that I felt myself sway to the side.
Heartstruck at the sight of her.
I’d thought she’d have no idea what had hit her, but it was me who’d been slammed.
Knocked off my feet. Everything I’d thought I’d known stolen. Taken and reshaped.
Little Trespasser owning all of me.
“Don’t worry, Dad, I took such good care of my brothers while you were in the hospital so you and Miss Savannah wouldn’t have to worry one bit.” Olivia drew my attention back to her. “I made dinner three whole times, and it was so good. Just ask Grandma. She said I was a natural like my auntie Dakota, and I bet I can even work at Time River Market & Café when I grow up if I want to, but maybe I think I should be a doctor instead so I can take care of you.”
Love pulsed. A swarm of it that covered the room in a swath of devotion.
“You’re pretty dang good at everything you do, Livvie-Loo. I’m thinking you can be whatever you want to.”
The kid beamed, and I spread out my arms. The three of them stepped forward, way slower than they’d come at me, and I curled them into my hold, breathing them in, so thankful that I was here with them today.
No question, it could have turned out differently.
I was still all fucked up in the head, trying to wrap it around what Brianna had done. What she’d been embroiled in. More had been uncovered in the three days I’d been in the hospital, and while my officers had gone through Jack Harris’ belongings, evidence had been found that Brianna had been involved with him before we’d met.
He’d kept a bunch of her things. Trinkets. Pictures. Letters. More journals. Some confessing her love for him. Others filled with thoughts and ideas that were erratic and detached from reality.
It seemed she’d broken things off with him when we’d first started dating. Looking for stability, I guessed. Normalcy. Joy. Contentment. But I guessed the power he held over her was too much, a force too great, and once she’d hit that spiral, when she’d stopped seeking help, she’d been lured right back to him.
