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I snort when Rad turns beet red and throws his hands up. “Sorry, Little Pretty Girl. Not used to such tiny ears being around all the time.” He winks at her, earning a smile.
“Well. It was very nice to meet you, gentlemen. I expect my girls to be in good hands if I take off and return to my husband,” Rocco says, scooping up a large, empty container and his car keys. His eyes bounce around to our faces until we’re nodding in understanding. He’s laid it out clearly to us; he’s not a threat to whatever the fuck this is now. “Good. I shall take my leave. Get well, Doll. And remember what I said.” He raises a brow, earning the stink eye from River. I can’t help the smile that pulls at my lips at her defiance.
“Thanks for the soup. Kiss Christian for me,” she mutters when he kisses her temple, much to the unhappy sounds escaping Rad’s throat like a possessive idiot.
“You’ve got it, Doll.” Coming to stand right before us, he reaches a hand out and clasps my hand in a gentle handshake. Peering over his shoulder, he confirms River is locked in a deep conversation about cotton candy with Lyric before he speaks next. “It’s been a long road for them. You understand? She’s endured a lot. My unsolicited advice?” He eyes my face and the other guys who crowd in, reluctantly listening to this strange man in River’s house. “Listen to her. Breathe her damn words. Reevaluate whatever is going through each of your minds. Have an open heart. And if this isn’t something for you, walk away and never look back. Disappear into the fucking darkness. Go back to where you fucking came from. Once you fully commit to them—to Lyric. There’s no walking away. Fix what you broke or forever leave it in shambles so they can repair themselves.” He raises a poetic brow, taking his hand back.
We don’t say a word when he slips between us. Or when he starts up his car and drives away slowly, leaving us with his parting words.
Fix what you broke.
Determination lifts me in its grasp, choking me without a single thought of leaving this. Lyric is my daughter. My flesh and fucking blood, hidden from me. River was once my best friend—the love of my life. Every action from the past comes back, forcing me to relive our memories in vivid color. My River Blue isn’t the same girl I left in Central City. There’s an edge to her now. Because we broke her. We walked the fuck away without ever knowing the truth. God. How could I have been so damn stupid to just leave her without uttering a word? I’m confident now that the truth will come to light. It always does. No matter what happened in the past, River is ours now.
Lyric is ours.
“Lay your head down, Pretty Girl,”Rad demands, running his hands through River’s hair. To her credit, she mumbles her disagreement as he forces her head into his lap.
“Rad,” she hisses, squeezing her eyes shut, looking white as a ghost.
“You’re making it worse,” Callum grumbles, swatting him in the back of the head. Rad shoots him a cutting glare. “You good?” he asks softly, looking down at her where she begrudgingly rests her head on Rad’s thighs.
Shaking my head, I rest on the couch opposite them. Nerves prickle beneath my skin. This is our moment. The desperate need for answers hangs in the back of my mind, nagging me to figure it out. We all crowd around her living room, waiting with bated breath for the conversation we’ve been anticipating.
“I’m fine. I guess,” she mumbles, situating herself on the couch better as Callum sits beside her feet. Swallowing hard, he glances up and down her body with a concerned look. His fingers twitch, but he stops himself from touching her.
“It’ll be okay, Pretty Girl. We’ll care for you and Lyric while you’re not feeling good. Do you need any more soup? Crackers? 7-Up? Or—” Rad frowns when she blindly puts her hand over his mouth, effectively shutting him up. Thank God. He babbles when he’s fucking nervous, and right now, his voice grates on my nerves.
“I’m fine,” she reiterates with a sigh, forcing herself out of Rad’s lap. Running a hand through her matted brown locks, she wearily looks around the room, taking the three of us in. “Thanks for today,” she mutters. “I appreciate you guys jumping up and helping me with Lyric.”
“She came to our door,” I say gruffly, taking a deep breath.
All the frustrations boil to the surface after being swallowed for so long. It’s getting harder and harder not to show my frustrations physically.
She grimaces. “She knew where you lived.”
“And who we are,” I grunt, jumping. My fingers grip the roots of my hair as I pace back and forth opposite them. Don’t freak the fuck out on her now. You can’t be an asshole when you need to stay calm.
“Dude,” Rad warns, standing up from the couch with a frown.
“Don’t dude me. My daughter knew exactly who I was, but I didn’t know about her. I didn’t even know she fucking existed,” I say in a low voice, gritting my teeth through every word.
The last thing I want to do is rile Lyric up as Asher reads to her just down the hallway, preparing her for bed—something I should have done every night for the last four years of her life. I’ve missed so much of her growing up, and I don’t want to waste another minute without knowing it all.
“We don’t have to do this right now. River is sick,” Callum says, shaking his head. “We can do this when you feel better,” he says, looking directly into River’s eyes.
“No,” she says, swallowing hard. “Let it all out,” she says, waving a hand in my direction.
“Why did she know who we are?” I ask, stopping and towering above her. “Why, River Blue?” All the rage turns to desperation, leaking into my tone. It catches in my tightening throat.
“Because, even after you left, I wanted her to know where she came from. Even after you denied her and…”
“Denied her?” I gape, leaning over her body and forcing her head against the couch. Our eyes lock in an intense battle. “You know me better than that. Or at least you did. I’d never in my fucking life deny my child. Ever,” I growl, curling my fists at my side.
River sighs with exhaustion, closing her eyes. The selfless part of me wants to walk away and let her rest more. She’s been ill all night and day. But the answers I’ve been desperate for since the first knock have me prodding further. There’s an incessant need gnawing at the back of my mind, desperately searching for an answer.
“That’s what we tried to tell her.” Rad grimaces in pain, shaking his head. “Tell him, Pretty Girl. Tell him the whole story. Please.”
She cracks an eye open, promptly rolling it in his direction. “The whole story?” she rasps. Her jaw tightens, pulling the rest of her face into a tense expression. “Where to begin? Like the fact I ran to Callum’s house, only to be greeted by your mother.” I tense, jerking back like I’ve been slapped, but she continues. “You can be pissed off at me all you want, but I’ve already told the other three the entire story. You knocked me up over the dining room table on our little vacation. Not only did you ghost me after my mom fucking died, but you also left me. You fucking—You fucking promised me that you’d take me with you. That—” Her eyes squeeze shut, holding back the emotions boiling to the surface. Anger roars through her system, twisting her expression until she uses all her strength and climbs to her feet. Her painted red nail pokes into my heaving chest. “You assfaces left me when I needed you the fucking most. My mom died, and where were you? Winning Battle of the fucking Bands. I mean, fucking good for you,” she grits out with a bitter laugh. “Good for you for living your dream. But what about me? What about what I needed? You left me like I was nothing more than trash on the curb.”
