Falcon

 

Falcon leaned back from Bridgette, watching the shock play over her face. His whole body was taut with rage.

 

He’d known the instant he saw the little girl. Bridgette had never told him how old her daughter was. Hell, she hadn’t even told him her name. And as soon as he pulled up at the place he saw why.

 

Maybe it was the way she looked, maybe it was her age that gave it away. But as soon as he laid eyes on her he just knew, deep in his core, that he was seeing his daughter for the first time. The bright red hair—that had Bridgette written all over it. But he saw himself in the blue eyes, in the shape of her cheeks, and the set of her mouth.

 

But it was more than just the way she looked. It was something deeper, too, a connection he couldn’t name or describe. In a way it was similar to how he felt about Bridgette, but so much stronger. He hadn’t even spoken to Gabby, but he knew he’d do his damnedest to give her the world. He’d bring her the moon if she asked him.

 

He’d missed six years of her life. And if were up to Bridgette, he’d miss the rest of it, too. He was her father, for fuck’s sake. Where did she get off pretending otherwise? If she didn’t want him around, if she thought he would be a bad influence, fine, so be it. But to not even tell him—that was another level entirely.

 

God, it was a good thing he’d decided to follow her. He’d hesitated when she’d first taken off, thinking she’d come to her senses and come back eventually. He’d even thought to himself, after he’d gotten his initial anger under control, that he had acted like a complete ass, and that a half-hearted apology wasn’t going to smooth things over.

 

But knowing Martin’s guys could have been out there, just waiting for a chance to get Bridgette alone so they could haul her off and torture the location of the stash out of her, he decided he wasn’t going to take any chances. He figured he’d follow her and her daughter home and ask for a chance to explain himself.

 

He would have tried to reason with her. But this whole situation was too delicate, and if he’d been unable to convince her to go back home with him, he knew he probably would have had to coerce her into going somehow. He wasn’t going to lose her, not again. He’d given up his whole life to protect her once, and he wasn’t about to stop short now.

 

So he’d tailed her to her daughter’s school, making sure to keep his distance, and then across town to the little ice cream place. He’d planned on hanging around the area rather than confronting her in public.

 

But his plans went out the window as soon as he saw Bridgette’s daughter. His daughter.

 

He was having a hard time finding words for Bridgette.

 

“Kyle, get your hands off me,” Bridgette repeated. Her voice quavered a little now, though. “This changes nothing. You’re not her father just because you knocked me up. She didn’t need you in her life six years ago, and she doesn’t need you now. And you’re scaring her.”

 

Falcon tightened his grip on her arm. Like hell he was going to let her walk away now. “You owe me a goddamn explanation,” he spat. “I had every right to know I have a kid. What’s your excuse, that I wouldn’t be good for her? How the fuck would you know, Bridge? You never even gave me a chance.”

 

“Mommy, I want to go home,” the little girl sobbed.

 

Falcon tore his eyes away from Bridgette to look down at her. She was peering around at him from behind Bridgette, her eyes wide and already wet with tears. Shit. He hadn’t meant to scare her. He dropped his hand from Bridgette’s arm and backed up a little, trying to deescalate things a little.

 

“Your mommy and I are just talking,” Falcon told her, trying to make his tone as gentle as possible.

 

She cringed back anyway.

 

“Shh,” Bridgette soothed her, reaching down to run a hand over her daughter’s hair. “It’s okay, Gabby. Everything’s fine.”

 

“No it’s not!” she sobbed.

 

Bridgette’s livid eyes darted back to him. “You asshole! Look what you’ve done. I don’t know where you get off—“

 

“I didn’t want this,” Falcon cut her off. “But you’re going to explain to me why you kept this from me. It’s not a fucking request. You can both come back to my place—“

 

“There’s no way I’m going anywhere with you.” Her gaze shifted briefly to the concerned customers that were trying their best to discreetly keep tabs on the argument unfolding between him and Bridgette. “And unless you want one of these nice families to call the cops on you, you’re going to let me just walk away. I’m going to take my daughter home, and we’re going to keep to ourselves for the next few days while you figure things out. And after that, Kyle, after you do what you have to do, I want you out of our life.”

 

That last bit was what put him over the edge.

 

“Fat fucking chance. She’s mine, Bridge, and I’m not going anywhere. I don’t care if I have to follow you around for the rest of your life. You’re not keeping me from my daughter.”

 

Gabby continued to cry and cower behind Bridgette.

 

Bridgette’s fierce expression wavered a little. “We can’t do this here—“

 

“You’re right,” Falcon cut in. “You’re coming back with me. Because I want some answers, Bridgette. I mean, what have you even told her about me? That I didn’t care about her enough to stay? That I’m some kind of a fucking monster—“

 

“Not here,” Bridgette bit out, her words half-command, half-plea. “Listen, just calm down, okay? I’ll go back with you. We can talk this out. But I’m not bringing Gabby with me.”

 

“She’s my daughter!” Falcon hissed. “I’m not going to hurt her, Bridge. I would die before I hurt her—“

 

“You’re hurting her now! You’re hurting both of us! I gave you a chance to explain yourself, didn’t I? So you owe me the same. But Gabby…I’m going to drop her off at my friend’s. That’s not negotiable, so take it or leave it.”

 

Falcon met her sharp gaze with his own, waiting for her to falter. But she didn’t.

 

“Fine,” he conceded. “Go ahead. But I’ll be following close behind. Don’t think for a second that you’re getting out of this.”

 

One of the dads waiting in line, a heavy-set, balding man with a bloated face, started to approach them, a look of concern on his face. Falcon cursed under his breath. He didn’t need this kind of attention, not now.

 

“Excuse me, ma’am,” the man began tentatively, “but is everything all right here?” He glared pointedly at Falcon. “Is this man giving you any trouble?”

 

Bridgette didn’t even turn to look at the man. “We’re fine,” she stated, still glaring daggers at Falcon. “Come on, Gabby. We’re going.”

 

Falcon watched, seething, as Bridgette towed his daughter back toward the car.

 

The man who’d tried to intervene cleared his throat. He looked uncertain of himself, but he forged on ahead anyway. “Listen, sir,” he began, “I don’t know what you think you’re doing here, scaring a nice young lady and her daughter like that, but I suggest you cut it out before you get yourself into real trouble.”

 

Falcon cocked a brow at him and took a menacing step forward. “Oh really? Hang on a sec, I think I’ve got something in my pocket here for you.” Falcon pretended to rummage around in his jeans for a second before pulling his hand back out, middle finger fully extended and directed at the flustered man.

 

Several of the parents with young children watching the unfolding spectacle either covered their kids’ eyes or forcefully turned them away from Falcon’s gesture.

 

“Have a nice day, pal,” Falcon called, still flipping the man off as he strode off toward his bike.

 

Falcon stayed in the parking lot for a little while, idling on his bike, keeping his eyes on Bridgette. She sat in the car for a moment, phone pressed her ear, as she made a phone call to who he assumed was the friend who was supposed to watch Gabby. From what he could see, she looked pretty upset, maybe even embarrassed. The phone conversation lasted for a few minutes, and it looked like Bridgette was pleading desperately for most of it.

 

Falcon resisted the urge to go over and tap on her window. I could straighten your friend out real quick, he thought to himself. Bridgette was too nice about these things. But he knew she would never hand her phone over. So he just watched in agitation as she finished up by, from what he could tell, thanking whoever it was profusely.

 

At last Bridgette pulled out onto the street. Falcon followed behind her, keeping her close but not too close. She didn’t seem to be trying to lose him at least, he thought grimly. She navigated the streets of the small town relatively calmly, keeping within the posted speed limit and signaling all her turns in advance.

 

Probably because she knew things would get ugly if she tried to pull anything with him. He would have sped across town like a maniac, breaking every traffic law there was to break if he had to.

 

# # #

 

He had a daughter. The words were powerful to him. It was a sentence he never thought he’d put together, even in his head, and it echoed emptily in him. He didn’t know what to make of it yet or how it would change him. What the hell was fatherhood anyway? What the fuck did he know about raising a kid? Maybe Bridgette was right. Maybe Gabby was better off far away from him.

 

But that didn’t sit well with him. He didn’t know exactly how this changed things, how this would change him, but he knew with certainty that his life had split again into another distinct chapter, and this one began the moment he saw that darling little redhead who had his blue eyes.

 

Falcon followed behind Bridgette all the way to a little suburb in a well-off area. She parked in front of one of the pristine houses—a two-story home with a wrap-around porch and a manicured lawn. Falcon snorted to himself. Of course she’d be dropping Gabby off with some well-to-do soccer mom.

 

He pulled over to the right side of the street in front of a driveway a few houses down. He was far enough away that he was sure he couldn’t be seen from the front door, but close enough that he could still keep an eye on Bridgette and Gabby.

 

Bridgette looked nervous. She was restless as she stood before the door. She knocked a few times, then rang the bell before stepping back. She shifted from foot to foot as she stood waiting, constantly glancing back behind her and over toward him.

 

Gabby still looked shaken, too. She clutched at Bridgette’s arm with both her hands, clinging to her mom like she was drowning and clutching at a lifesaver.

 

Shit. It wasn’t fair that the first impression he made on Gabby was of him yelling and cussing at her mom and coercing her into coming back with him. He should have waited. He should have just kept with his original plan and followed them back to her place, where he could have pulled Bridgette aside and demanded his explanation without causing a scene.

 

But he’d never been good at reining in his impulses, and the flood of raw emotion he’d felt in that instant had been like a tidal wave. He doubted he could have stopped himself from acting as he did.

 

That was just how he was. He didn’t waste time with bullshit, trying to be diplomatic and civil. He told it straight. He let everything out. And maybe that wasn’t a bad thing.

 

At last someone came to the door. She was heavier than Falcon had imagined she’d be. He’d expected a skinny lady in yoga pants, but the woman who answered the door was an older blonde who looked like she’d just swallowed a lemon.

 

He watched as Bridgette launched back into what he could only imagine was another round of thanking her for taking Gabby on such short notice. God, he thought, couldn’t Bridgette leave her with someone else? Someone who might actually enjoy having their daughter around?

 

The woman looked like she asked Bridgette a question; Bridgette’s response was to cast another nervous glance back toward him. The blonde woman followed her gaze, and as soon as her eyes landed on him, her expression changed from sour to mortified.

 

Shit, what was she telling him? He could only guess. That he was her scary ex who’d come back to town to harass her, and now she needed a safe place for her daughter to stay again while she dealt with him? Bridgette probably even believed that wasn’t far from the truth.

 

He wanted to march straight up there and set the record straight, to tell her she was the one who’d fucked up this time, that she was the one keeping secrets and trying to cut him out of his daughter’s life.

 

She hadn’t even let him say one word to Gabby. Fuck, he could have written her a note or left her a voice message or something, anything at all. It was better than nothing. Better than her not even knowing that her father was still around. That he might want to be around for her growing up.

 

No, Bridgette was defaulting to the story about the deadbeat dad who’d stripped her of her cash and left her on her own. She was painting him as the bad guy when the truth was that he’d done what he’d done for her—to keep her safe and give her the best shot at a good life that he could at the time.

 

She hadn’t even given him a chance. Hadn’t even thought about it. She’d written him off without a second thought. Well, that isn’t going to fly anymore, he thought.

 

Bridgette hugged Gabby tightly before the blonde woman ushered their daughter inside, glancing nervously back in his direction. Like he was going to charge after her or something. Falcon shook his head to himself.

 

Bridgette squared her shoulders and headed back to her car. Falcon kicked off and rode out behind her, this time keeping the distance between them tight.

 

They arrived at the house. Falcon barely took the time to stand his bike up before stalking over to her car, fists balled at his side.

 

Bridgette slid out of the car, deliberately not looking at him. She hurried up the walk, eyes focused ahead of her, and entered into the house. Falcon wasn’t far behind her.

 

God, he thought, I’m going to give her hell. He couldn’t understand how she could be so selfish, so cruel to him. It was one thing to try to keep him away, but another entirely to pretend he wasn’t the father, to deny him any place in Gabby’s life.

 

He couldn’t think straight.

 

Bridgette moved into the kitchen, lingering over by the table, though she didn’t sit down. Falcon stood across from her, the table separating them.

 

She didn’t say anything. She just stared fixedly at the surface of the table in front of her, arms folded tightly over her chest, lips pressed together into a thin line.

 

“So?” he burst out at last. “What the fuck is your answer, Bridgette? Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant? Why didn’t you tell me she was mine?”

 

She lifted her head slowly, her body trembling with rage. “Because,” she snapped, “you left. Because you didn’t come back. You didn’t try to get in touch. So how the fuck was I supposed to tell you, Kyle? How the hell was I supposed to know that you even still gave a damn about me?”

 

Falcon tried to find words for her—angry words that would make her understand just how pissed he was that she’d kept this from him. But he couldn’t find any. He had no explanation.