72
EMERSYN
The SUV rolled through the heavily guarded gates.
A long open drive sloped across rolling lawns and gardens as it led to a beautiful estate perched on a small rise.
Heavily armed men in tactical gear escorted the vehicle in a golf cart that was outfitted like a mini assault vehicle.
Through heavily tinted windows, I watched our approach and saw more than a few men who lined the drive that passed in front of the house.
These men weren’t as heavily outfitted, but they eyed our SUV like it was a bomb.
Doubts and nerves assaulted me, and I couldn’t breathe.
“Wait in here,” Angel ordered.
He carefully got out of the car and shut the door. I couldn’t hear much of what was spoken between him and the guards before he stood in front of the SUV with his hands clasped in front of him. He was obviously waiting for something, or someone—
I reached over and gripped Griffin’s hand without thinking. He looked down at it—he always seemed surprised when I touched him—before he folded it between both of his own.
“It’s going to be okay,” he said. “Those are all your father’s men. Angel has some balls to drive straight in here.” He said the last part under his breath like he was equal parts shocked and impressed.
A few minutes passed, and each one felt like a lifetime, until finally Angel opened the door.
Griffin squeezed my hand and climbed out.
He nodded to someone beyond my sight, then turned back and reached out his hand for mine.
I took it and stepped out. I brushed my hair out of my face, took a deep breath—
And, when I looked up, there he was.
My father—with more scars, older and with an edge that I didn’t remember, but the look in his eyes as he stared at me melted all of my doubts away.
“Hello, Dad.”
Somehow I found my voice, and somehow it sounded steadier than I felt.
Of all the times I’d envisioned the moment I saw him again—in all the dreams, in all the hopes and wishes—nothing prepared me for the real thing.
My father looked equally shocked. He swayed, like he wanted to close the distance but didn’t know how. He reached out a hand—
“Emersyn.” His voice was a plea, and a prayer, and an invitation, all at once.
It was all I needed. I took one step, and the next came easier. Before I knew it, I’d crossed the space and threw my arms around his neck. I buried my face in his shoulder and fell apart.
He shook as he held me tightly and murmured my name over and over again into my hair.
It was crazy, but he smelled the same as I remembered and that made me cry harder.
My feelings of betrayal and anger at him for leaving me were insignificant in the face of being in his arms again.
I didn’t doubt they’d return in full force at some point, but for now, I just wanted this moment.
I don’t know how much time passed, but finally I pulled back enough to look at his face. There were tears shining in his eyes and a vulnerability there that looked out of place. He cupped my face with both hands and ran his thumbs over my own tears that trailed down my cheeks.
“Emy—my beautiful girl,” he choked out.
He was here.
He was here, and I was home.