It was a little after eight in the morning.

Standing on my front porch, I held a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and my cell phone in the other. Jaw ticking, I stared down at the barrage of text messages I’d been receiving from Chastity for the past three hours. One after another they flashed across my phone’s screen, causing my blood pressure to skyrocket.

I gritted my back teeth together, deleting each one as it arrived. I didn’t take the time to read them. There was no point. I already knew what they said, because she sent the same unbalanced messages day after day, week after week.

Please don’t leave.

Let’s try again.

I’m sorry.

I hate you.

I never wanted her.

None of them ever bothered me except for the last. I loved my little girl enough for both of us, but it still killed me inside that her own mother didn’t care about her. How that was possible, I didn't have a clue.

Though, I shouldn’t have been surprised.

What did I expect from a woman whose entire existence revolved around money and status? The former was the reason she’d gotten pregnant in the first place. All it took was one sabotaged condom and a handful of well-delivered threats for her to sink her claws into my well-padded bank account.

Still, the joke was on her, because I’d gotten the better part of the deal.

She may have received a truckload of money, but I got Isabella.

In my eyes, there was no comparison between the two, and given the chance, I’d go through all the bullshit again if the end result remained the same. As long as I had my little girl, I was richer than my ex-wife ever would be.

And that was the bottom line.

Speaking of Chastity… Isabella hadn't asked if she was coming to say goodbye. After almost five years of nothing but broken promises and outright lies from the woman who birthed her, my girl had learned that her mother didn’t love her as she should.

I’d witnessed first-hand the confusion and longing that filled her eyes when she watched Clara with her kids. It broke my heart that she’d never have a mother like that, but I swore that I’d make up for everything she was missing.

Until my dying breath, I would love my baby girl with every ounce of my heart and soul. Honest to God, come hell or water, I’d go above and beyond to ensure that she never questioned my love for her.

That was a fact.

"Daddy!" Bella yelled from the living room where she’d been coloring while not-too-patiently waiting for the moving truck to show. "Come here!”

"I'm coming, princesa.” Setting my coffee cup on the porch banister, I turned and headed into the house.

 The minute my girl's gaze met mine, her eyes lit up. "Daddy!"

A huge smile spread across my face at the sound of her calling me daddy. It didn't matter how often I heard it, the simple word combined with the affection in which she spoke it made my chest swell with pride.

Bella stood from the plush living room carpet where she had been sitting and waved an oversized piece of paper in the air. "Lookie at what I drew!" Her excited shouts echoed off the walls before fading away.

I sat down on the floor at her feet and pulled her down onto my lap. She pressed her back against my chest, and my arms circled her small waist. When her strawberry scented hair tickled the tip of my nose, I couldn’t help but close my eyes and inhale, pulling the familiar scent deep into my lungs.

Isabella giggled and dipped her head forward before pushing the colorful drawing into my waiting hand. "Daddy, quit smelling my hair and look at my picture."

I opened my eyes and placed my chin on the top of her head. "What did you draw—"

"I drew our new family," she shrieked again, cutting me off mid-sentence. "The ones waiting for us in Georgia."

Our new family... Her words hit me in the chest like tiny little shards of shrapnel.

The truth was, other than my twin brother, Evan, his fiancée, Hope and my nephew Ryker, the large group of people drawn across the page in vivid color weren't our family.

Not officially anyway.

Instead, they were a group of people that Evan and Hope had gotten close to after moving to Georgia four years earlier. Individually, most were societal misfits who'd been brought together by one lousy circumstance or another. Alcoholism, abuse, neglect, death—you name it, someone in that group had survived it. Yet, despite their pasts, they'd formed unbreakable bonds with one another, creating a makeshift family.

And Isabella and me? We'd been adopted by the entire clan.

Leaning back against my chest, Bella pointed at the colorful images she'd drawn across the cream-colored page, explaining each one in vivid detail. "This is Aunt Hope, Uncle Evan, and baby Ryker," she said, sliding her finger from one stick figure to the next. "And this is Maddie, Hendrix, and baby Melody."

Maddie and Hope were roommates during their freshmen year of college. Quickly becoming friends, they'd been inseparable ever since. Now they both worked as social workers at the battered women’s shelter in the county next to the one where we would soon live.

Hendrix was Maddie's husband. Together they had a little girl named Melody who was one and a half. They were expecting their second child any day now.

 Lips thinned into a straight line, Isabella turned her head and looked at me over her shoulder. "When will the baby that lives in Maddie's belly come out?" Brows furrowed, she scrunched her little nose up. "It's been in there foreverrr."

I chuckled. "Any day now, princesa."

She huffed out an annoyed breath before turning her attention back to the picture. "And that's Shelby, Anthony, Felix, and Ashley. And this"—she tapped on a short, black-haired stick figure twice—"is Lucca." Her eyes met mine again. "He's a troublemaker."

Shelby Moretti worked as a victim advocate at the same shelter where Hope, Maddie and Clara worked. She was also Hendrix’s little sister. Smart-mouthed and short-tempered, she was married to Anthony, a homicide detective for Toluca Police Department. They had two kids: Ashley who was seventeen, and Lucca-the-troublemaker, who was three.

Felix was a Vietnam Veteran who Shelby had befriended before she met Anthony. When she moved out of her duplex and into Anthony's home, she'd taken Felix along with her, moving him into the small apartment above their garage.

A garage that sat sixty feet to the left of my house making the Moretti’s, along with Felix, my new neighbors.

God help me.

Without missing a beat, Isabella moved her finger to the next group of stick people and said, "That's Keith and Charlotte"—she giggled, moving her finger further to the right—"and that's Pop. He always has Jolly Ranchers in his pocket."

I almost rolled my eyes at that. James Cole, or Pop as most people called him, was Hendrix and Shelby's father. A lifelong fireman turned Fire Chief, he was a good guy although that hadn't always been the case. A former violent alcoholic, Pop had been sober for nearly a decade, and he'd spent the last few years trying to atone for the horrible stuff he'd done while drinking. A long road lay ahead of him, but redemption was something he was fighting like hell to achieve.  

His determination was one thing I admired.

Keith was Maddie's father, and he was dating Charlotte, Hope's mother. I'd grown up with Hope; therefore, I'd known Charlotte my entire life. She was like a second mom to me, and I loved her as fiercely as I loved my own mother. I only hoped that Keith treated her right because if he didn't, he'd be dealing with me.

That's if Evan didn't get to him first, which he likely would.

But I doubted I had to anything to worry about. From what I'd seen Keith treated Charlotte like gold, much like my brother did with Hope. Even though I was jealous as hell, I was happy for both couples.

"And this," Isabella screamed as she bounced on my lap and pointed at a wild-haired stick figure wearing a knee-length flowered dress and bright pink lipstick. "Is Grandmama!"

Grandmama was Maddie's crazy grandmother. Her house sat between Pop’s and Evan’s, and across the street from mine and Shelby’s. Crazy as hell, she was one of the nuttiest people I'd ever met, and that was saying something considering my occupation. But she was also big-hearted and protective, two things that made up for the insanity that followed her everywhere she went.

The day she’d met Bella, she'd claimed her as her own. I hadn't bothered to argue with her. What was the point? If I did, her crazy ass would’ve either hit me or shot me, depending on her mood.

Grandmama was not one to be fucked with.

"And this"—Bella pointed at a redheaded stick figure wearing a long dress and scarlet lipstick—"is Clara." The longing in my little girl's voice as she spoke Clara's name hit me right in the gut. "I miss her, Daddy,” she said, looking at me over her shoulder. "And I miss Liam and Declan too." Tears filled her eyes. "Sooo much."

Handing her back the picture, I slid my hands under her arms and turned her to face me. "Don't cry, princesa," I said, rubbing my thumbs down the sides of her face. Her tear-streaked eyes made my chest ache. "You'll see her and the boys soon."

"Will I get to see her today?"

I clenched my jaw tight and took a breath. I didn't know if we would see Clara or not and thinking we may not about killed me.

It’s been so damn long...

I stood, taking Bella with me. The picture remained clutched in her hand as I placed her feet on the floor. "I'll tell you what. If Clara isn't at Aunt Hope's house when we get to Kissler, then we'll hunt her down first thing tomorrow morning."

My girl's eyes lit up; her tears vanished. "Really?"

I nodded. "Yeah, baby."

She opened her mouth to say something else but snapped it shut when the sound of the moving truck pulling up outside reached her ears. "They're here," she shouted, throwing her hands up in the air. "Does that mean we can leave now?"

I chuckled. "As soon as Mrs. Johnson comes over, we're leaving."

Not wanting to waste more time, I'd paid my nosy ass neighbor to come over and supervise the movers as they loaded the truck. I had no intention of sticking around, waiting for them to get done. Once I signed the papers okaying them to start work, Bella, and I were leaving.

It’s time to put Tennessee in the rearview mirror.

The thought had barely crossed my mind when Mrs. Johnson strolled through the open front door. "Yoo-hoo," she called out. "Anybody home?"

"Come on, beautiful girl." I took Bella's hand in mine. "It's time for us to go."

A heart-stopping smile spread across my girl's face. "I’m ready!"

Together, we headed for the door.