CHAPTER NINE
Justice
From the time I was born, I was raised without any emotions, shown no love of any kind until my brothers and Thatcher came along. It made me hard, strong, and fearless. I’ve watched my own mother die in front of me when I was nothing more than a child; I’ve faced down the barrel of a gun, and stared an enemy in the face before blowing his brains out.
None of it scared me.
It seems there’s a first time for everything, because as I pull up to Ryanne’s to formally meet my daughter, I’m fucking terrified. Scared she won’t forgive me for yesterday, worried I will fuck up this parenting thing, but most of all, I’m terrified for how much I already love her, knowing she might not ever feel the same way.
There’s a cold sweat dotting my palms as I climb out of the truck, an erratic beat to my heart that I can’t understand. I grip the gift bag with the stuffed animal in it, second-guessing my decision. I spent hours trying to find the perfect gift but I soon realized there was nothing out there good enough for her.
The old lady at the toy store seemed more than amused to find me wandering the aisles. She led me over to the stuffed animal section that apparently is popular with Hannah’s age group so I went with it. I was going to buy the whole rack but she told me that would be too overwhelming for a five-year-old.
After staring at every fucking animal there was, I went with the pink lion. Because yesterday she had the courage and protectiveness of one. It was also the biggest animal the store carried.
Just as I climb the porch stairs, the front door squeaks open and out steps the most beautiful little girl I’ve ever seen.
My little girl.
She wears a white dress with strawberries on it, red cowgirl boots, and her long, dark hair is swept aside with a big strawberry clip in it.
She’s perfect and she’s mine.
“Hi, Hannah,” I greet her, clearing my throat when I hear how rough it sounds.
“Hi,” she whispers, twirling her hair nervously.
I look past her to find Ryanne just inside the screen door, her expression pained as she stays back to give us this moment. The bitterness and anger I try to keep hidden attempts to break through my calm demeanor but I manage to tamp it down and focus on my daughter.
“I was hoping we could talk for a while and get to know each other. That okay with you?” My breath traps in my chest, viciously imprisoned as I await her response.
Thankfully she nods, giving me the chance to at least try and make things right.
Ryanne chooses that moment to intervene. “Do you want to come in or sit out on the porch?”
I look at Hannah, letting her decide.
She points to the porch swing. “If it’s all right with you, I like swingin’.”
“Porch it is then,” I tell Ryanne.
“Go on and sit. I’ll bring y’all out something to drink.” She walks away, leaving us in awkward silence.
I follow Hannah over to the swing where she takes a seat, her small feet dangling, while I remain standing, leaning against the railing. As much as I want to sit next to her, I don’t want to crowd her.
“Your mom told me you were at school today,” I start.
She nods softly, her fingers twisting in her lap. It seems I’m not the only one who’s nervous.
“Do you like it?”
“Yes,” she whispers, her eyes remaining cast down.
Hating the awkwardness between us, I decide to cut the bullshit and break the ice with the apology first. “Listen, Hannah. I’m really sorry you saw me react the way I did yesterday. I was caught off guard and angry but I should have calmed down before I came over here. For that I’m sorry, and I’m really sorry if I scared you.”
For the first time since sitting down, she finally peeks up at me. “I don’t like anyone yellin’ at my mama.” That spark of fire I witnessed yesterday is in her eyes but so is hurt and it’s that emotion that has remorse flooding my veins.
“I shouldn’t have gotten upset at her the way I did but I want you to know I’m not mad at you.”
“Are you still mad at her?”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to lie to her but I decide against it. “Yes. It’s going to take some time for me to not feel angry anymore but I promise you won’t ever see me get mad like that again.”
“Do you hate her?” she asks, continuing to look me in the face.
“No.”
As much as I want to hate Ryanne, I can’t, not only because of our past but because the little girl sitting in front of me right now makes that impossible.
“I also want you to know I’m not upset that I have a kid,” I continue, needing her to know this. “I’m upset that I didn’t know about you.” Those last words are harder to get out than I anticipated, that ever-present regret burning in my blood.
“Does that mean ya want me?” Her wide, hopeful eyes punch me right in the chest with enough force to squeeze the air from my lungs.
“Yeah,” I breathe out, having a hard time speaking. “I want you, Hannah. I’ve always wanted you, even when I didn’t know about you.”
She offers me the softest smile, giving me a little hope that I’m not fucking this up too badly.
“Maybe one day you can forgive Mama.”
I nod but remain silent, because right now forgiveness seems too far away.
Before either of us can say more, Ryanne steps outside carrying two glasses of sweet tea. “I’ll set these here for you guys.” She doesn’t look at me, using her hair to shield her face but the emotion in her voice tells me she’s been listening to our conversation.
“Thanks, Mama.”
“I’ll be inside if you need anything.” Kissing Hannah’s head, she walks back into the house without sparing me a glance.
Hannah takes a sip of her drink then puts it back down next to her and looks at me expectantly. “So what now?”
Blatant and to the point, another thing I respect.
“Now, I give you this.” I hand her the gift bag, my nerves spiking again.
Excitement dances in her eyes as she takes it from me and wastes no time digging into the bag. Her small gasp fills the air when she pulls out the lion, hugging it to her chest. “A Beanie Boo!”
The happiness in her voice sends relief coursing through me. “The lady at the store told me they’re popular.”
“Yes, sir. I have three but they are the small ones because the big ones cost too much money.”
Misplaced guilt plagues me as I wonder, not for the first time, how Ryanne has been managing to support herself and our daughter all these years. I would have taken care of them if given half the chance, and to think my daughter was denied anything because of it only adds to the deep-seated anger burning inside of me.
“My friend Gemma has thirty,” Hannah continues, envy strong in her voice. “One day I’m gonna have that many, too. I’ve been collectin’.”
I knew I should have bought the whole damn rack. She would have had more than Gemma. I should have never listened to that lady.
“What’s its name?” she asks me.
“Um…” I try to come up with one but none come to mind. “What do you want to call it?”
“The name is on its butt, silly,” she tells me, giggling, “but I can’t read.” She flips the lion over, flashing me its ass.
“Oh.” I step forward, feeling like an asshole, and read the name stitched on the bottom. “Nacho.”
What kind of fucking name is that?
“Nacho, I love it!”
A good name, I guess.
She starts petting his mane. “I’ve never owned a lion before. He even matches my room.”
“Your room is pink?” I ask, digging for any information about her. Things that I should already know but have been denied the privilege.
“Yes, do you want to come see it?”
“Yeah, I would.”
I want to know everything about her. Her likes and dislikes, her talent, what she loves to do. I want to know every single thing about her, but for now, I’ll start with seeing her room.
“Come on,” she says, skipping into the house.
I follow her inside to see Ryanne jump back from the window, pretending to busy herself when she’s obviously been spying.
“We’re goin’ to my room, Mama!” Hannah tells her, racing up the hardwood stairs.
“Okay. I’ll be…down here.” She trails off, fidgeting nervously.
My eyes meet hers as I climb the steps, our gazes locking, and the past begins to emerge one memory at a time. Not that they have ever strayed far from my mind but for the past twenty-four hours I haven’t been able to see past my anger until now. The turbulent emotions I feel when it comes to her throws me off and I don’t fucking like it.
Once she’s out of view, I follow Hannah into a small pink room with a white bed, dresser, and nightstand. In the corner is a little white table and chair set with a pink tea set.
“I have a feeling your favorite color is pink.”
She giggles, the beautiful sound inflating my chest. “Yeah, one of them.” She places the lion down on her bed next to a doll she has sitting there and three of the other small stuffed animals she was telling me about. “Meet Icicle, Butter, and Kipper. Guys, this is Nacho.”
I smirk, amused by her introduction. My eyes wander over her bedroom as she gets them situated and I come across a picture on her nightstand that has every muscle tensing in my body.
Walking over, I pick up the frame, the picture of me on my bike was taken when I was unaware.
“Mama gave that to me,” she whispers, peering at me somberly. “So I would know what you look like and I could say good night to you.”
Anger tightens my chest, passing back and forth like a ball of fire. She shouldn’t have had to say good night to a fucking picture, and I should have been able to say good night to her in return.
All moments I will never get back.
Pulling myself together, I put the picture back down and turn to her. “You like the zoo, Hannah?”
She doesn’t miss a beat at the sudden change of topic. “Yes, sir. I’ve only been one time but I liked it a lot. Mama took me for one of my birthdays.”
Her answer only serves to drive this overwhelming resentment deeper inside of me. There’s so much I need to make up for.
“Would you like to go with me?” I ask.
Her eyes widen. “Right now?”
I smirk. “No. It’s too late for that, but maybe this weekend?”
“She’s free this weekend,” Ryanne speaks up, entering the doorway. “Would you like to go, Hannah?”
She nods at her mother then brings her attention back to me. “Will I get to see you before then?”
“I’ll be back every night to see you,” I tell her, not bothering to ask Ryanne. I won’t ask to see my daughter.
She smiles, seeming content with that answer.
“I’ll let you get to bed then but I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Okay.”
I hesitate, not ready to leave her yet but know it’s for the best, especially with the bitterness clawing away at me. “Good night, Hannah.”
“Good night,” she whispers.
I head down the stairs, regret searing my veins.
“I’ll be right back,” Ryanne says, coming down behind me.
I don’t slow my hurried steps, anger pushing me forward.
“Justice, wait,” she calls, following me outside.
“Not now, Ryanne!”
“Please, just one minute.”
I turn on her, my chest heaving with the rage threatening to explode. “What do you want? Say it so I can get the fuck out of here.”
She swallows thickly, emotion welling in her eyes that I feel no remorse for. “I’m sorry. I know this is hard for you.”
“You don’t have a fucking clue how hard this is for me. How painful it is to know that five years of my daughter’s life have passed and I’m here trying to arrange visits with a fucking stranger!”
“You can come see her as much as you want,” she chokes out, tears streaking down her cheeks.
“You’re damn right I can and not because you said I could. I have rights, Ryanne, ones you will no longer deny me.”
Without another word, I climb into my truck and peel away, clinging to the rage festering in my gut because it’s a hell of a lot easier than acknowledging the pain in my chest.