CHAPTER THIRTY
Ryanne
Despair continues to grip me an hour later as I sit on the couch next to Braxten, pressed against his side with his arm wrapped around me. After I filled him and Thatcher in on what happened they brought me to the house and Braxten hasn’t left my side since. He’s been caring and attentive, acting as a true brother would.
Despite the warmth of his body and the blanket draped around my shoulders, I continue to tremble violently, fearing for the destruction Justice is causing in his wrath this very moment.
Thatcher fled the house earlier to go get Gwen and brought her back here to be with us, not trusting what the others would do to her. While he did that, I called Craig and begged him to find Justice before he could do anything he couldn’t take back.
Now here we all sit, waiting for any word, and every second that passes has my hope dwindling.
“I should have come with you,” Gwen whispers in remorse, wiping the tears from her worn cheeks as she holds a cup of warm tea. “I’m so sorry, dear.”
“It’s not your fault,” I tell her, hating to think how much worse it could have been if she had been with me, or even Hannah for that matter.
My eyes close, bile crawling up my throat as I think back on Derek’s heinous threat to my daughter.
“She’s right,” Thatcher says, walking into the room and placing his hand on Gwen’s slender shoulder. “It’s no one’s fault.”
He says that but I saw the guilt on his face earlier. I wish now I would have listened when he cautioned me not to go alone. I just never thought for a second that I’d be noticed. It’s obvious that they were watching—waiting to make their move.
“I just got off the phone with Agent Jameson,” he continues. “He’s taking the next flight out. Should be here by morning.”
Everything has spiraled so dangerously out of control, I fear if Craig doesn’t find Justice soon there won’t be much left for Agent Jameson to take care of.
“What’s taking him so long?” I whisper, not needing to clarify whom I’m talking about.
“Hopefully he’s making the bastard suffer,” Braxten grits, rage hardening his usual playful expression. His shoulders have been tense, body wound tight since finding out what Derek did. It vibrates much the same way mine does. Only mine is from fear, his is fury. A fury much like the one I witnessed from his brother only a short time ago.
My chest tightens at the memory of Justice tearing apart the place in his wrath. I’ve seen him angry before but never anything like that. There was no stopping him. I just pray we are all able to come back from it because I can’t lose him. Hannah and I need him now more than ever.
The thought has me close to tears again. “I need some air.” Standing, I head out onto the front porch, pulling the blanket tighter around me and resting my head on the large white column, staring out at the dark night.
It’s not long before the door opens behind me. I don’t have to look to know it’s Thatcher; his strong presence is unmistakable. He comes to stand next to me, placing a worn hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry, child. I shouldn’t have let you leave.”
My heart pinches in my chest, hating the regret in his voice. “It’s not your fault either, Thatcher. It’s no one’s fault but theirs.”
“I know, but it could have been avoided if I hadn’t let you go. Or we could have had Gwen come here. Then I could have protected you both.”
At the mention of Gwen, I turn toward him, the dim light of the porch offering a small glow. “She told me everything,” I whisper, unable to hold back.
Sadness grips his face, transforming his expression to one of shame, and it shatters my broken heart even more.
“Why didn’t you tell us what they did to you?”
“What good would have come of it? What’s done is done. None of us can go back and change it. It’d only hurt y’all, especially my boys, and they’ve had enough pain to last them a lifetime.” His tone is so strong and protective; the love he has for his sons radiating through every word.
“Why didn’t you ever retaliate?” My curiosity gets the better of me and I have to ask. Have to know why he would let them get away with hurting him so badly. “You’re stronger than them, you could have taken them on if you really wanted to.”
“If I had killed Forrest then where would that have left Gwen? She made her decision, despite my objections.”
“She didn’t love him. She did it to protect you.”
“And I didn’t do it to protect her,” he says, an almost sad smile spreading across his lips. “Our relationship wouldn’t have been approved by anyone and we would have just faced more obstacles. I was more than willing to fight for that, but she was too afraid. I didn’t like it but I understood it.”
“She still loves you so deeply,” I tell him, hating the way things ended so tragically for them.
He doesn’t seem all that surprised by my admission. “Some love never dies, no matter how much time has passed. I’m sure you understand that better than anyone.”
I nod, thinking about how six years between Justice and I never changed my feelings for him.
“As hard as it was all these years, I wouldn’t trade them for anything, otherwise I may never have gotten my boys and they are everything to me. My whole life. So are you and Hannah.”
His sweet words have me blubbering all over again. I step into him, wrapping my arms around his waist. “I’m sorry, Thatcher. So sorry for what they did to you. You’re the father I never had, and I wish you could have been mine from the beginning.”
“Oh, child,” he says, his voice gruff as he hugs me tight. “You and Hannah will always be my family, just like my boys. We’re going to get justice for that mama of yours too, all right?”
I nod, my beaten heart a mangled mess thinking about the woman I will never get to meet due to the evil of my father and Vivian. I refuse to call her my mother anymore because she’s not. She never has been and she never will be.
The sound of Justice’s truck driving up the gravel road has us breaking apart and relief swamping me. He parks halfway between the guesthouse and the main one before climbing out.
“Thank God!” Dropping the blanket from around my shoulders, I flee down the porch stairs and run toward him, but my quick steps falter when I see the amount of blood covering him. “Oh my god.” Fear takes me forward, my hands frantically searching him. “Where are you hurt?”
“It’s not my blood.” His voice is rough, weighted with burden.
My eyes snap up to his, an icy chill slithering over every inch of my skin. “Oh no,” I whisper, choking back my despair. “What did you do?”
He peers back at me, eyes haunted. Without a word, he drops to his knees before me, his arms wrapping around my waist as he buries his face in my stomach.
I hold him close, sobbing out my fear and worry.
Knox takes Thatcher into the house, leaving the two of us alone.
“I failed you,” he mutters, defeat heavy in his voice. “I’m so sorry I failed you.”
Seeing this powerful man on his knees before me, blaming himself for whatever thoughts he’s letting run through his head, absolutely guts me.
“You didn’t,” I tell him, forcing his tortured eyes up to mine. My hand touches the side of his face, fingers grazing his strong, stubbled jaw. “I never should have left. I should have waited for you.”
He shakes his head, insistent on shouldering the blame, but I refuse to let him.
“Come on, let’s get you inside for a shower.” Taking his hand, I lead him into the guesthouse where we have to step over the destruction of furniture that he left in the wake of his fury.
Once in the bathroom, I start the shower then begin peeling off his clothes before removing mine, needing to wash off the filth that Derek left on my body.
We step under the hot spray together, our arms instinctively wrapping around one another—skin to skin—heart to heart. Heat and steam envelop us, the dirty water swirling down the drain.
I breathe him in, soaking in his arms that I have desperately needed.
“He’s dead,” he reveals quietly. “He’ll never hurt you again, Ryanne.”
I should be horrified but I’m not. Deep down I knew. I’ve always known exactly what Justice would do when he found out. They’ve hurt so many, ruined so many lives that I can’t find an ounce of remorse.
“I’m going to get you out of here, too,” he continues, his deep voice rumbling from his chest and vibrating against my cheek.
I look up at him, drops of water slipping onto my face from his.
“I won’t make you stay here anymore. We’ll go back to Gold Creek or wherever you want.” His hand cups my cheek. “I love you, Ryanne,” he says, making my heart stall. “I promise to take care of you forever and never let anyone hurt you again.”
A sob rattles my body as he finally says the words I’ve longed to hear, words I feel all the way to my soul. “I love you too, so much,” I cry, hugging him close. “I can’t lose you.”
“You won’t.”
“But when the police find out…”
“Craig is handling it.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to question him further about that but when his arms pull me in close again, I decide none of it matters. Not in this moment. The only thing that matters is us, loving each other with this embrace until the water runs cold, each drop washing away the pain of our past and leaving a promise for our future.