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“It can be your home, too,” he commented in a deep, almost hesitant voice. The sun had set, but we were still living in that in-between-day-and-night time of the evening, which meant I could make out the soft look of worry in his eyes that matched the tone of his voice. “Too soon?”
I brought my forehead to his and sighed. “Not too soon. Nothing will ever be ‘too soon’ with you. With us.” I slid my hands to his shoulders, careful with the one I needed to remember to make him ice later. “I’m not going anywhere. No more running,” I promised him in case he was still nervous about that.
“I know. That’s not why I’m . . . acting weird. Well, stranger than normal today.”
I peeled my hands free from him as I sat upright, searching his eyes, waiting for him to explain.
“I found a package on my doorstep while you were in the shower this morning. It was unaddressed, and I should have given it to you right away, but it was from Erik. And I thought maybe you should open it after the party in case it upset you.”
I blinked in surprise. “What?”
“Shit. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have waited. It wasn’t my call to make.” He shifted me back from where I sat and hopped off the motorcycle, then helped me do the same.
“No, you were right to wait. My mood would’ve been messed up, and I was already nervous to meet all your friends. It was more like meeting your family.” Hell, even the Secretary of Defense had been there. He was Gray’s dad, after all, and the party had been a baby announcement. That didn’t make it any less nerve-racking. “So, um, what was inside the package?”
He grabbed the helmets and eyewear from where I’d set them on the ground, and we headed for the front door of his home. “A letter with your name on it, so I didn’t read it. But there was also two hundred and fifty grand in there.”
I stopped at his words, shock coursing through me. “I don’t want his money.”
“I didn’t think you would.” He frowned. “Come on.” Once inside, he set aside our stuff, and I hung back in the bright foyer, still in a bit of a daze. Jack retrieved the package and handed me a folded-up sheet of paper, and I slowly opened it.
Dear Charlotte,
I’m sorry I took off last month, but once I knew you were okay, I figured it’d be best for me to just go. A small part of me wishes things were different. That I wouldn’t have to forever be looking over my shoulder, but this is the life I chose. It’s my turn to be on the run now, I guess.
Your mom was right back then, not wanting me in your life. I would have made a shitty father and wouldn’t have deserved you then. Not that I’m doing so hot now either. I really am your father though, well, by blood at least. The man who raised you was your dad. And from what I can tell, he did a stand-up job.
I have a feeling you won’t accept this money since I didn’t make it legally but think of it as I’m trying to do something right by you.
You’ll also get another letter this week that contains the lab work proving I’m your biological father (in case you wanted proof). But you won’t hear from me again after that, I promise. Well, not unless you need me. I’ll keep an eye out, but something tells me with that boyfriend of yours around, you won’t ever need me.
I’m sorry things happened the way they did, but I hope you have some peace now. I hope you get everything you’ve ever wanted. Sorry for my part in it taking so long.
Take care,
Erik
P.S. - Below is the location for where Jordan buried the woman Brant killed from the first show. She deserves to rest in peace.
I mindlessly handed Jack the letter while reaching into the envelope to peer at the wads of cash, still in shock. And honestly, I didn’t need the lab work to know Erik was my biological father. I felt that in my bones. Just as surely as I knew he was right to stay out of my life. This was for the best. My past needed to stay there. I needed to live in the now.
“Did the two FBI agents who died that night eleven years ago have family?” I whispered, blinking back tears.
“I think so, yes. Pretty sure they were married with kids,” Jack said while folding the letter.
I held the envelope of money out to him. “Can you divide this between their families?” I sniffled, fighting back more tears. “Make it anonymous?”
Jack looked at the package, then back at me. “You’re one of a kind. You know that, right?” He put down the money and letter, drawing me into his arms. “God, I love you so much.”
Tears spilled down my cheeks at his admission, finally saying the words I’d longed to hear from him. I shifted back to find his face and cried out my own truth, “I love you, too, Jack London. I love you so much. You’re my home now. You’re my forever.”
CHAPTER FORTY
CHARLOTTE
ONE WEEK LATER
Jack shot me a lopsided smile from where he stood in front of me on his driveway. “So, don’t be mad at me,” wasn’t exactly the best way for him to start a conversation after we’d spent the day apart.
