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A million thoughts race through my mind when I march toward the front door, catching more words from the tiny voice on the other side.
“Help! Mommy is dead!” The tiny voice cracks with emotions, sniffling behind the front door. “Daddy!” the voice calls frantically, sounding more urgent than before. The pounding continuously beats against the wood until I’m standing right in front of it with my brows furrowed in confusion.
Daddy? There’s no one’s dad here. Unless one of these idiots knocked up some chick and decided not to tell anyone. Fuck. What a dick move that’d be. I don’t care who the chick is. I’d never abandon my child like my dad left me high and dry.
“Fuck,” I shake my head, throwing the door open, and freeze at the sight of her.
A beautiful little girl with fat tears rolling down her cheeks and a white bunny clutched to her chest shivers outside my front door. Her eyes screwed shut as she sniffles on her bunny’s head.
“Hey, little girl. Are you okay?” My hoarse voice falls from my lips in a soothing tone, grabbing her attention.
I swear all the oxygen in my lungs ceases to exist when she looks up at me, cries even harder, and launches herself at me. Her little face buries into my thighs as she sobs harder, clinging to me for dear life.
Panic ensues inside me. What the hell do I do? If this were my little sister, I’d scoop her up and soothe all her pain. But I don’t have a fucking clue who this is or why she’s at my damn door. Almost instinctively, my protective side roars to the surface, and I run my fingers through her long, dark locks in a soothing manner, getting snagged on the knots.
“Hey, little girl? Are you okay?” My voice softens as I crouch down, pulling her from my leg and cupping her cheeks in my palms. “What’s going on?” I ask again, earning a small hiccup in return.
“My mommy. She-she, I-I can’t get her to move. My mommy is dead,” she wails again, squeezing her eyes shut and trembling beneath my hands.
My heart skips a beat as I take her in, noting the similarities between her and River. Fuck. Her long, dark hair with tiny freckles on the bridge of her nose. Little pajamas hang loosely around her body; hell, she’s not even wearing shoes. But where else could she be from? We all know River has a kid, but I never expected to see her standing shoeless outside my front door with tears falling from her eyes.
“Your mommy is River?” I ask as my eyes roam over her face, memorizing the shape of her nose and the pout of her quivering lips.
Time stands still when River’s daughter blinks open her moisture-filled eyes, hiccuping in my grip. Oxygen evades me. My fucking head spins. Something primal and deep inside me snaps into place when her eyes connect with mine, full of terror and sadness. She quivers in my grip, nodding vigorously in confirmation.
More tears stream out of her identical mismatched eyes, falling down her small chin and dripping on me. Her wetness coats my flesh as those big, hurt eyes flash with disappointment, taking in every inch of me, too. Dipping down my chest and arms, she silently notes the tattoos etched into my flesh. She doesn’t spare a second, gripping my wrist and trying to yank me across the street.
But I’m too stunned to move. Her tiny words don’t register in my damn walnut brain as I process the fucking situation. River had a baby four years ago. She wasn’t Van’s like Gloria had claimed. This beautiful little girl standing before me is one hundred percent my flesh and blood.
This little girl isn’t just a spitting image of River. She has my fucking eyes. My. Fucking. Eyes. Something my goddamn dad passed down to me before he bailed to pursue music. How fucking ironic. There’s no goddamn way that’s some sort of coincidence. You don’t just show up with these eyes and not have similar DNA. It’s an anomaly. Yet, here she is, looking at me.
There’s no goddamn way.
This can’t be fucking happening right now.
No.
A tidal wave of guilt crashes over my head, pulling me into the depths of the turbulent waves. My muscles jump under my skin, begging me to make a move. An itchiness spreads across my flesh, stretching too damn thin. I run a hand through my hair, digging into my scalp as the memories of my father resurface.
“Where’s Daddy?” I whisper, staring out the window of our home. Longing clings to every inch of me. He’s been gone for way too long. He said he had to work. And the sun is down.
Mother scoffs, gripping a beer bottle. “He’s never coming back,” she mutters coldly, staring at the wall with glossy eyes.
He’s never fucking coming back. Is that how my little girl felt? Does that run through her mind, too? Late at night as she stares at the white ceiling with hope dwindling day by day that she’ll ever see her father again. If he’ll ever walk through the door with a smile, saying he was joking about leaving? That he’d never do that to his family and perpetuate the hurt?
I abandoned my child like my father did to me.
I fucking did that!
Holy fucking shit. The walls close in on me. Oxygen refuses to refill my empty lungs. When did the air become so damn thick?
Fuck! When–
“Daddy,” she whispers with urgency, knocking me out of my own damning thoughts. “I think my mommy is dead,” she says more calmly now, tugging at my wrist again with all her strength. “Please,” she begs, yanking again until I’m on my stumbling feet and dumbly following her out onto the step.
“Wait,” I struggle to say through the tightening of my throat. “Fuck,” I rasp, collapsing to my knees again. My limbs tingle like damn Jell-O has replaced my bones, sending me spiraling to the ground. “You’re…” I jerk my hand from her grasp, blindly gripping her cherub cheeks. Moisture burns behind my eyes when I really look her over again. “Mine,” I mutter with a heavy tongue. She’s too young to confirm or deny my ramblings. It’s something I’ll have to discuss with the fucking corpse she keeps talking about. Fuck! River.
“Daddy,” she wails again, tugging at my arm. I shake my head, trying to knock the fog from my brain, processing all her words.
