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I take a deep breath before I step on the porch and knock.
“Everleigh,” I call out her name. “It’s me, you can unbolt the door now.” I feel bad for leaving her out here alone for so long, but when I got the call from Noah I had no other choice.
I hear the rusty bolt on the other side scrape before she opens it a fraction and as soon as I see those soft brown eyes, I feel that heavy weight in my chest lift a little higher. She lifts her lips into a hint of a smile that suggests she’s happy to see me, then opens the door fully so I can step inside. She looks so timid as she backs away from me and stands with her shoulders against the back wall. It scares me that she still acts like a cornered animal sometimes, but every day I notice the fear in her eyes that she arrived with becomes a little less.
“I’m sorry I was gone so long.” I take off my hat and hang it up behind the door. The girl is only used to being left alone for short periods of time. Josie covers me for a few hours of the day so I can do some work around the yard, but usually, it’s just her and me out here.
Her forehead creases when she notices the blood on my hands and shirt, and I quickly shake my head and let her know it isn’t mine while cursing myself for not cleaning up before I came in here. The way her chest sags with relief when she realizes it’s not my blood makes me wonder if she’s starting to care for me. There's been plenty of things she’s done lately that would suggest it, and it makes me curious. How can a girl who’s been through so much still be kind and thoughtful?
I watch her step over to the kitchen side of the room and pour me a glass of water from the filter system I fixed up a few weeks ago.
“Thank you.” I take it from her and knock it back, before moving to rest in the chair by the fire. She follows me, then sinks onto her knees in front of me, and I scrub my hand over my face. I don’t know how many times I’m gonna have to tell her not todo that. This poor girl hasn’t just been mistreated, she’s been trained like a dog.
I sit forward and rest my elbows on my knees, studying her face a little deeper. It’s hard not to find her beautiful, and yeah, I feel bad about that. Put aside the fact that I’m old enough to be her father. The girl isn’t here for me to admire, she’s here to recover from something unthinkable that happened to her. But for all my sins, it’s impossible not to appreciate her perfect pink lips or wonder if her milky-colored skin feels as soft as it looks.
“Get up, darlin’.” I take a real big risk as I reach out my hand. She doesn’t flinch like I expect her to, so I allow my rough thumb to stroke over her delicate cheek. She looks like a rabbit in the headlight as she swallows deeply and stares into my eyes like she can sense all the pain inside me.
“You don’t belong on your knees,” I tell her, hating that these kinds of behaviors have been ingrained into her.
The doc tells me that all she would have had down in that basement was routine and discipline. I want her to have so much more than that now she’s free, but it's a slow process. Right now, I can’t even get her to come out into the yard. I can’t get her to speak. The only time I hear her voice is at night when her nightmares come, and knowing that I can’t hold her while she screams feels like a punishment.
I let my thumb linger on her skin for far too long, this is progress. A dangerous kinda progress because now I’m thinking of all the other places I’d like to touch her. Her eyelashes flutter as she looks up at me and it feels like she’s begging me to open up to her.
“My nephew died,” I whisper the words and feel like my heart is being dragged outta my chest all over again. “I raised him since he was a boy, and tonight someone shot him in the back of his head.” I break down and sob, up until now all I’ve felt isanger. But I’m drained of it now and all that’s left is a helpless, hollow pit in my stomach.
Everleigh stands up on her feet and then shocks the hell outta me when her hand guides my head to rest against her stomach. She comforts me, stroking her fingers through my hair, and I wrap my arms around her hips and cling to her so tight I fear I might hurt her.
We stay like that until my tears dry out, and when my arms slacken and she pulls away, she smiles as she heads back to the kitchen and places the kettle on the gas stove.
I leave her to make the tea and step out onto the porch for some fresh morning air. Sometimes just being around her can feel overwhelming, and having a moment like that is making me crave far much more than she’ll ever be able to give.
I take out my cell and text Cole as a distraction.
Everything’s taken care of.
His response comes back quickly.
Thanks
Another message comes through almost straight away and when I read it, it gives me a little hope that we haven’t lost him completely.
Mason’s next.
