CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Ryanne
The next morning I slip out of the front door, leaving Justice asleep, and head for the main house, anxious to see Hannah.
I feel like a completely different person after everything that happened last night and though I am still trying to come to grips with it all, I don’t regret a single moment of it.
In a way I feel like I’ve been set free. Free from the fear I felt when it came to Justice and the bond he shared with his brothers. Free from the regret and guilt I harbored for running all those years ago, but most of all, free to express my love.
Justice didn’t say the words back to me, but he showed me with every touch and kiss. He made love to me like never before, cherished me in ways I only ever imagined. It meant so much more than words ever could.
He also opened up and shared a part of himself, which I know was incredibly hard. The revelation of his birth mother shattered me, but it also made me realize we have more in common than I thought. Both born to parents who hate us. Though, his was definitely more violent and tragic.
It terrifies me to think what else he may have suffered before finding his brothers and Thatcher. In the living room, amongst the throes of passion, I witnessed all three of their demons and it was a very dark place. My heart breaks for them all but it also makes me understand them a little more. Why their hearts are as interconnected as they are.
They all share one common denominator: pain.
Braxten is sitting out on the front steps when I reach the main house, drinking a cup of coffee. Heat creeps up my neck, invading my cheeks as erotic images from last night surface. I may not regret it but I do feel a little embarrassed knowing he saw me in my most intimate and vulnerable moments.
His gaze is warmer than usual as he greets me. “Hey.”
“Hey,” I reply back quietly. “Hannah awake yet?”
“Yeah, she and Dad are cooking breakfast.”
Nodding, I start up the stairs only to have him snag my wrist, stopping me mid step.
“Sit with me for a minute.”
I look down at his hand before nervously taking the spot next to him, my eyes training ahead as I stare out at the rising sun.
“You doing okay?” he asks, sounding genuinely concerned.
“Yeah. Still just trying to take it all in I guess.”
He grunts. “You and me both.”
I look over at him, surprised by the admission. I figured this would be the norm for them, but I am finally realizing this is hard for him, too.
“Look, I just want to say thank you for giving us one last time together.”
His heartfelt words have warmth invading my chest. “I didn’t just do it for you guys,” I confess quietly. “I did it for me, too. I feel like I needed to in order to really understand the relationship you have with one another. As much as I hate to admit it, I always felt threatened by it. I knew I could never compete with it.”
“Trust me, we’ve never been a threat to you, not where my brother is concerned.”
There’s so much truth in those words that it erases any remaining insecurities I had. It also brings forth the memory of that first night with Justice, the night I saw the figure standing just outside the door of his bedroom, watching us during our most intimate moment.
“Were you the one watching us that night?” I ask bravely, feeling almost embarrassed for asking but I can’t help myself. I’ve thought about it often over the years, wondering which one of them it was, though I think I have a pretty good idea…
The confused scowl that transforms his expression confirms what I already suspected. “What night?”
“When Justice and I were together all those years ago someone watched by the door.”
Surprise registers on his face before he chuckles. “Knox, that fucker.”
I always figured it was him but had to ask.
“He didn’t like the circle being broken, even back then.”
I understand it more now than I did before, which is one of the reasons why I went through with it last night.
“I don’t want to take him away from you guys,” I say, feeling the need to tell him that. “I just want to love him, too. I need him as much as you guys do, so does Hannah.”
The same emotions gripping my heart are prominent on his face. “Yeah, I know.”
“The three of you are lucky to have each other,” I continue, voice soft. “I don’t have siblings; I never had anyone love me until Hannah. Well, and Thatcher.”
“That man really loves taking in the strays, doesn’t he?”
I chuckle, thinking how true it is. Thatcher is one of a kind. He definitely makes the world a better place. Without him, all of our lives would not be what they are today.
“But now you have two badass brothers, not to mention how hot we are.” He slings an arm around my shoulders, pressing a kiss to the side of my head. There’s nothing sexual about it, just friendly—brotherly.
I roll my eyes at his not-so-subtle modesty but can’t deny the warmth flowing through me. “Well, I appreciate you saying that but let’s not count Knox in just yet.”
“Don’t worry about him. Beneath all that hostility he’s just bursting with love.”
The ridiculous statement has a bout of laughter escaping me. I’m pretty sure Knox doesn’t burst with anything. He’s too closed off, too…sad. The reminder of what I saw last night has my heart growing heavy again.
“How’s he doing?” I ask.
He shrugs. “He’ll be all right. We all knew this day would come eventually, but that doesn’t make it easier, ya know?”
I nod, completely understanding that.
Approaching footsteps pull our attention forward. There I find Justice walking toward us, looking sinfully sexy in all his morning glory. His dark hair is rumpled with sleep, jeans from the night before hanging enticingly off his lean hips. He carries his shirt in his hand, leaving his very powerful and sculpted body on display.
“Show off,” Braxten grumbles.
Smiling, I slip out from under his arm and walk down a few steps to greet Justice, my arms locking around his neck as he pulls me in close, our bodies fitting together in the most perfect way.
“Good morning,” I greet him.
“Morning,” he mutters, his deep voice still thick with sleep. “Everything okay?” His gaze shifts to Braxten with the question.
“Yeah, she just wanted to come and hang out with me,” he says. “Said she missed me and couldn’t stop thinking about me.”
It takes everything in me not to burst out laughing, especially at the glare Justice gives him. “Actually, I came to see Hannah. I missed her.”
“Me too,” he shares. “And you.”
The admission has a silly smile stealing my lips.
“All right, this is making me nauseous,” Braxten says, pushing to his feet. “I’m going inside, I’ll see you guys in there.”
“Brax,” I call over my shoulder.
He turns back to face me.
“Thanks for the talk.”
“Anytime…sis.”
The one word means so much more than he can ever know.
After he walks inside, I turn back to Justice and find him watching me closely. “Sis?” He lifts a brow.
“Uh-huh.” I lean in, brushing my lips across his. “How do you feel about that?”
His hands drop to my bottom, pulling me flush against him. “I say let’s make it legal by you marrying me.”
I shake my head, lips quirking. “Nice try, Creed.” Grabbing his hand, I pull him up the steps. “Come on, let’s go see our little girl.”
He grunts. “Nice evasion.”
It’s all I have for now. I don’t want to lose this new place we have found ourselves in. A place that very well could lead to what we both want.
Music greets our ears the moment we enter, Marvin Gaye’s “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough” blaring from the kitchen, Thatcher’s and Hannah’s voices singing the words. We walk in to find Thatcher standing at the stove, flipping pancakes in the air while she catches each one with a plate.
Braxten almost gets a pancake in the head as he grabs himself a glass, managing to dodge it just in the nick of time. The entire scene before me has warmth flooding my heart.
“Mama, Daddy!” Hannah puts the plate down when she spots us and runs straight into Justice’s waiting arms.
“Morning, baby.” He kisses her cheek before shifting her to the side so I can hug her, too.
“How was your night?” I ask.
“It was amazing. Papa Thatcher and I had so much fun. We drank hot cocoa, had popcorn, and watched Brave.”
“Now why am I not surprised to hear that’s the movie you chose.” I look over at Thatcher to see his smile is as bright as Hannah’s.
“We had a great time,” he says. “We’ll have to do it again.”
“Uncle Knox said he would take me on the tractor with him later today and even let me drive.”
For the first time since entering the kitchen my eyes move to Knox, nerves twisting in my belly as I try to gauge where we stand. His usual hard expression is a little softer today, and for the first time ever I’m greeted with a nod. It’s more than I’ve ever gotten from him before so I take it as a starting point and smile in return.
“Have a seat,” Thatcher says. “Hannah J. and I made chocolate chip pancakes for everyone.”
Chairs scrape across the floor as we all take what have become our usual seats at the table. Justice sits next to Knox, putting Hannah between us. As I help dish her plate, I notice him pull his brother in close, murmuring things that the rest of us can’t hear.
Witnessing their love and bond makes my chest swell and ache at the same time. Whatever he says has Knox nodding before he releases him.
“Did everyone have a good time at the dance?” Thatcher asks, the grin resting on his face a good indicator that he hasn’t stopped thinking about it, and I have a pretty good feeling as to why.
“I did,” Hannah says. “I loved playing with Amelia.”
“How about you, Thatcher?” I ask, not bothering to hide my knowing smile. “It sure looked like you and Gwen had a good time.”
“Well, you know.” He chuckles, and if I didn’t know any better I’d swear the man was blushing. “Dancing with a beautiful woman all night is no hard feat.”
I’m about to press for more information, my curiosity still piqued about the two of them, but Hannah ends up cutting in with a question. One that chills me to the bone.
“What’s a nigger?”
I still, my fork clattering to my plate.
Justice tenses next to me, a thick silence descending over the table.
It takes me a moment to find my voice. “Hannah, where did you hear that word?”
“Someone said it at the dance last night about Papa Thatcher. They said niggers are supposed to dance with their own kind,” she says it so casually; having no idea the amount of venom and hate that word holds.
“Who?” Justice questions, his voice thick with anger.
“I don’t know his name. He was wearing a red hat and white T-shirt.”
“Billy Ray,” Knox spits. “He’s always been a racist piece of shit.”
Hannah looks around the table, her face falling. “It’s not a nice name, is it?”
I shake my head. “No, honey. It’s not.”
“Why would he say that about Papa?”
I think of a way to explain it to her, in a way she can understand, but how can anyone understand that kind of hate? Especially a child.
“Come here, Hannah J.,” Thatcher calls her over, not looking nearly as upset as the rest of us. He brings her up on his lap, her arm curling around his neck as she peers up at him. “Some people can be ugly in this world, but you know what?”
“What?”
“They don’t matter,” he says, tapping her chest. “Miss Gwen and I had a great time last night, so did my family, and we’re all that matters.”
“I don’t understand why he was upset about it though. Why does he care if you dance with Miss Gwen?”
“Because our skin color is different,” he explains, being completely blunt, “and well, he don’t like mine.”
Hannah frowns, confusion masking her sweet face. “Why not? What does that matter?”
“It doesn’t,” I say firmly. “That’s what we’re trying to tell you. What that man said last night was mean and it was wrong.”
She looks back up at Thatcher, her bottom lip quivering with emotion. “I’m sorry someone said something mean about you.”
“Don’t be sorry for me, child. It’s his problem, not mine. I got all the love I need right here. Just look at my boys”—he points to Justice and his brothers—“they don’t have my skin color but they are still my sons.” His voice is strong and sure, filled with so much love. “Just like you are my granddaughter.”
Hannah rests her small hand on the side of his face. “I think your skin is beautiful and I’m glad you’re my papa.”
Her sweet words have me close to breaking out into a blubbering mess.
“Oh, Hannah J.,” Thatcher says, emotion strong in his voice but his smile big. “That’s because your heart is beautiful, and you want to know what is stronger than hate?”
“What?” she asks, sniffling.
“Love. Love is blind and knows no color,” he says, his wisdom filling all of our hearts. “We are family and nothing will ever change that.”
Hannah wraps her arms around his neck, turning her face into his shoulder. “I love you, Papa.”
“And I love you, Hannah J.”
Despite the tears rolling down my face, I smile, proud of my daughter for turning something so hateful into something so beautiful.
*
Hours later, we all sit out on the porch, enjoying the beautiful summer afternoon. Justice and his brothers sit amongst each other disassembling guns and rebuilding for better performance, or so they explained.
Thatcher plays his harmonica, his eyes shielded with black sunglasses, foot tapping and body rocking to the soulful melody that pours from him. Hannah wears matching sunglasses, a wooden spoon raised to her mouth as she sings to his tune. “I got the blues!”
“That’s right! Sing it, girl,” Thatcher tells her. “Tell us how blue you are.”
“I got the very sad blues.”
Braxten and I chuckle while Knox and Justice wear a smirk. Even though she struggles with the lyrics, she doesn’t let that stop her and follows Thatcher’s lead. I look around at the group of us, a warm feeling weaving into my heart that I’ve never felt before. A sense of rightness.
I now realize why Justice wants us all here together, because there is no greater feeling than this. Than being surrounded by people you love and who love you in return. Something I never had until now.
“Papa, how come you’re missing fingers?” Hannah asks when there is a break between songs.
We all pause, our attention shifting to Thatcher.
I’ve often wondered the same thing, along with the various scars I’ve witnessed from time to time, whether it’s a subtle shift of his shirt or his mangled hand. One weekend when he stayed with the two of us, I walked by his room as he was getting dressed and it was then I saw the rest of them. The scars on his hand and arms are nothing compared to the ones that mar his torso.
Thatcher tackles the question with a flippant answer. “Oh, you know, just an unfortunate circumstance.”
“What happened?” she questions further.
When he remains silent, Braxten cuts in, “Good luck, kid. We’ve been asking that same question for years.”
I frown, surprised to find out that not even the boys know.
“Some things are better left unknown,” he says, leaving the conversation at that.
Any more talk comes to an end when an expensive black car drives down the long gravel road, approaching the house.
The vehicle has Justice pushing to his feet. “Dad, take Hannah inside.”
Thatcher does so and quickly, scooping Hannah into his arms and walking into the house before I can even speak a word.
“Justice, who is it?” I ask, wondering who has him so on edge.
“You should go inside, too.” The look he gives me has my pulse skipping nervously.
I remain exactly where I am, my eyes darting back to the car as it comes to a stop. When the blonde woman steps out, my heart plummets straight to my stomach.
My mother.
By her upturned nose and pinched expression I can tell nothing has changed, not that I expected it to.
Although I’ve been waiting for this visit, I still find myself unprepared, my nerves pinning me to the swing where I sit.
Justice starts down the stairs, his brothers following as they block her view of me. “You’re not welcome here,” he says. “Leave now.”
“Not until I speak with her.”
“Not going to happen.”
“Today is not the day to mess with me, Mr. Creed.”
Braxten snorts at the threat.
I finally snap into myself and stand, saving them from her wrath. “It’s fine, Justice.” My feet start forward, forcing me down the steps.
“You don’t have to see her, Ryanne.”
I place my hand on his shoulder, sliding in-between him and Knox. “It’s okay,” I assure him before turning to face her. “What do you want, Mother?”
She whips her designer sunglasses off, her eyes filled with fury. “How dare you,” she sneers. “How dare you show your face here after all these years.”
“I have every right to be here.”
“The hell you do!”
“This is my family,” I tell her, feeling confident as I make that statement with the men I have surrounding me.
She flicks a disgusted glance at them all. “Family? Is that what you call it nowadays. Do you even know which one the father is?”
“Watch it, lady.” Justice steps forward but I place my hand on his chest, refusing to let him fight this for me. This is my battle and I’m going to end it once and for all.
“I know exactly whose it is and so do you. I’m sure you and father have always known.”
I have no doubt they know exactly where I’ve been this whole time, too. There is no way they wouldn’t with their resources. They just didn’t care because I was far enough away not to taint their precious reputation.
“Hannah and I are back and you’re just going to have to deal with it,” I say, proud of myself for how steady my voice is. “Winchester is a big town. We’ll stay out of your way and you stay out of ours.”
Her expression twists with anger as she points a finger in my face. “You listen to me, you little bitch, it’s one thing for you to run off but I will not let you come back here to hide out on this nigger’s land with that bastard child.”
I flinch, the insult fueling rage to spark within me. Justice reaches for her but I’m quicker. With a closed fist I strike out, connecting with the side of her face.
Her head snaps to the side, the loud pop echoing through the air as shock registers on her face.
“Don’t you ever speak about my daughter or Thatcher that way!” Tears form in my eyes, the comment hurting me as much as it enrages me. “You are never to come near me or my family again,” I scream, the words trailing off into a choked sob.
Justice turns me around, pulling me against him. “Get her out of here, now!”
Braxten’s already moving for her, grabbing her arm.
“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?” My mother sputters furiously. “Get your hands off me right this instant.”
He makes no move to oblige, continuing to drag her to her car where Knox stands holding the door open for him.
“Leave, Ryanne!” she yells, struggling against Braxten’s hold. “Do you hear me? You leave now or else—”
Whatever she says next is cut off when Braxten pushes her into her car and slams the door in her face, leaving her with no other choice but to drive away.
“God I hate her,” I whisper, watching the tail end of her car disappear. “I hate her so much.”
Justice tilts my face up to his, anger prominent in his dark eyes. “Forget her. She doesn’t matter, she never has. You, me, and Hannah, we’re all that matters.”
He’s right and I know it, but for some reason, even after all these years, she still gets to me, hurts me so deeply.
“That was a nice right hook,” Braxten comments, walking back over to us with Knox in tow.
“Thanks for getting rid of her,” I say with a sniffle.
“I would have done it sooner but I was praying you were gonna hit her since we can’t.”
A sad smile cracks my lips. “I’m sorry for what she said,” I whisper to them all.
“You don’t have to apologize,” Justice says, his expression soft as his fingers brush my cheek.
I lean into his touch; grateful he was here with me. That they all were. The way they had my back means more than they could possibly know.
A vibration penetrates the air. Justice reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. He looks at the screen before placing it up to his ear. “Clemson, what’s up?”
When his gaze moves to his brothers, they circle in closer.
“We’ll be there.” He hangs up and slips the phone back into his pocket. “That was Craig. He found something. He wants us to meet him at the abandoned warehouse on Old Miller Road.”
“That’s forty minutes away,” Braxten says. “Why so far?”
“I don’t know, but it sounds like whatever he has for us is big.”
“Let’s go,” Knox says, pushing forward. “I’ll drive.”
Braxten follows while Justice hesitates, looking down at me.
“Go,” I tell him. “I’ll be fine.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
He leans down, giving me a kiss, filling my sad heart with something more beautiful. Afterward, his forehead rests on mine, breath tickling my lips. “We’ll talk about this more when I get back.”
I nod.
He moves for the truck just as Knox starts it, the loud roar of the engine slicing through the air before it peels away. Composing myself, I wipe away any remainder tears and head inside to find Thatcher in the kitchen.
“Everything all right?” he asks, concerned.
“It is now. The guys just got a call from Craig though. They said they’ll be back soon.”
He nods.
“Where’s Hannah?” I ask.
“Colorin’ in the living room. Go on and see her, I’ll make you some tea.”
“Thank you.” I walk into the other room and find her kneeling on the floor, pencil crayons scattered about.
She looks up at me, her smile diminishing at my expression. “You okay, Mama?”
“Yeah, baby, I’m okay.” I sit next to her and pull her against me, needing to hold her. “I love you, Hannah. So much. Do you know that?” Now more than ever, I feel the need to remind her of that.
She hugs me back, her small arms squeezing me tight. “I love you, too.”
Swallowing back my emotion, I find my smile once more and look down at the picture she’s drawing. “What do you have here?”
“A picture of our family. That’s you and Daddy,” she explains, pointing to the left side of the page. “This is Papa Thatcher.” He stands next to a tractor, holding something in his hand.
“What’s that?” I ask, pointing to the object.
“His harmonica.”
“Perfect.”
She directs my attention to the other side of the paper. “Over here is Uncle Knox and Uncle Braxten.”
The both of them holding guns brings a smile to my face.
“Who are these two?” I prompt, pointing at two small stick people.
“That’s me and my little brother or sister.”
My gaze swings to hers, every muscle in my body growing stiff.
“Remember that day I threw a coin in the wishing well?” she says.
I nod.
“That’s what I wished for. That you and Daddy will get married and I’ll have a little brother or sister.”
My heart flutters with the same hopes and dreams. “I want that too,” I admit on a whisper. They are so close to becoming a reality, they are within my grasp, I can feel it, and I will fight to make that happen for us all. “Never give up wishing, Hannah, that’s how dreams come true.”
“I won’t, Mama.”
Pressing a kiss to her head, I leave her to finish the picture then head back into the kitchen with Thatcher.
“Have a seat, darlin’,” he says gently, bringing me a steaming cup of tea. He sits in the chair beside mine then takes my hand in his. “Talk to me.”
I look down at his missing fingers; the same mangled hand that comforted me six years ago when I sat in this very same spot, having no one else to turn to. This man has been more of a parent to me than my own ever have.
“You know, one of my biggest fears when I was pregnant with Hannah was that I wouldn’t be a good mother. Not only because of how young and inexperienced I was but also because I never had a good one. I never had someone who loved me, so how was I supposed to love my own?”
I look up at him, tears building in my eyes once again.
“But the moment she was born I knew there was no way I wouldn’t love her with every single breath I took. She became my entire world and it made me question how my own mother never found that love for me. Why does she hate me so much, Thatcher? I don’t understand what I did wrong.”
His hand squeezes mine, the sadness taking over his expression reflecting the one in my heart. “It’s nothing you did, child.”
“I try to tell myself that but now knowing what it’s like to be a mother I feel like there has to be a reason. A reason she harbors so much anger and resentment toward me.”
A look passes across his face, one I can’t decipher. “I feel like there’s something I should tell you,” he starts, shifting in his seat. “I’d heard the rumors years ago but never paid them much mind since this town has always been famous for talk. However, the more time that passes, and after knowing how awful that woman has been to you, I think it’s worth mentioning.”
“What is it?” I ask, curious about what could have him acting this way.
“Back in the day it was said your father often enjoyed female company on the side,” he divulges. “One of those said women ended up pregnant and it got real messy. So messy that she ended up leaving town.”
I peer back at him, shock rocking me over what he reveals.
“Your mother was pregnant at the same time, or so she said, but some people didn’t believe she was ever pregnant.”
“Well obviously she was because here I am.”
His expression turns more solemn. “There was a short time when your mother left town. It was during her pregnancy and she never came back until after she had you.”
I sit up straight, my heart beginning to beat wildly in my chest. “What are you saying? Are you trying to tell me my mother isn’t my real mother?”
“I know it sounds crazy, it was to me too, but…haven’t you ever noticed you don’t look a thing like her? Not one single trait.”
I open my mouth then close it, thinking it over. I’ve always resembled my father over my mother but even then I don’t look much like him either. We share some similarities but not many.
The more I think about this insane possibility, the more it would make sense of why she would hate me so much, but if I’m not hers then whose am I and where is she now?
I look back at Thatcher, the need for answers burning in my heart.
“I have no idea how you could even find out the truth,” he says. “But I’m sure—”
“Gwen,” I speak up, her name popping into my head instantly. “She would know. She has to.” The possibility has me pushing to my feet. “I have to go see her.”
“Now?”
“Yes. It can’t wait.”
He stands, reaching for my arm. “I understand how you must be feeling. But wait for my son to come home. I don’t want you driving upset like this.”
“I’ll be fine. I promise.” I grab my purse and search for Justice’s truck keys, finding them on the counter. “Will you watch Hannah for me?”
“Of course, but please, Ryanne—”
I cut him off with a kiss to the cheek. “I’ll be back before dark.” Without another word, I run out of the house, a sense of urgency filling me, the need for the truth. A truth I’m beginning to feel all the way down to my bones.