Chapter 18
CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN
RYAN
Adam is just finishing up his pancakes as we make our way back into the living room. He jumps off the chair and rushes over to me. He realizes that I’m here, finally. He didn’t notice me the first time I walked into the room, but maybe that’s a good thing.
He wraps his arms around my legs just as there is a knock on the door. It’s the front door instead of the side door, so I can safely assume it’s not my sister. But that doesn’t mean that my breath doesn’t hitch and my heart doesn’t slam against my ribs.
“Who the fuck is that?” Grover growls as he marches toward the door.
He’s still shirtless, his jeans resting low on his hips, molding perfectly to his thighs as if he’s had them for decades and they are formed perfectly to his body. I try not to ogle him, but it doesn’t work. I can’t stop the ogling.
I watch as he wrenches the door open without even looking through the peephole. I don’t understand how he can do that. Shouldn’t he at least have his gun ready or something? But he is like Hercules, Superman, maybe, and his body is made of steel, or at least he thinks it is.
Untouchable.
Impenetrable.
Except he’s not.
He’s human, just like I am, and if something happened to him, Adam and I would be alone in this world. More alone than we were in Harmony Springs. More alone than I felt driving away from him six years ago.
Because he would never come back. He would never find us, and all hope would be lost.
Gone forever.
As the door opens, I hold my breath, waiting for the inevitable, but he lets out a guffaw and so does the person on the other side of the doorway. I don’t know who it is based on the laugh, but I let out a sigh of relief anyway that it isn’t someone out to hurt him or me.
“Come on in,” Grover murmurs, stepping to the side to allow whoever is there to walk into the room.
I’m taken aback by the figure. The man looks a bit weathered, a little older than I remembered, but he still looks great.
In fact, he looks better than great. When his eyes find mine, they light up instantly, and he marches straight for me, wrapping his arms around me in a hug so big that my feet are lifted from the floor.
“Legs Turner,” he announces. “You look fuckin’ great, babe.”
“Nash Stanley,” I whisper against his ear.
He lets me down to the floor, releasing me as he takes a step backward, his eyes searching mine as he chuckles. “You look better than ever, Ryan. Didn’t think that shit was possible.”
Looking around him, I try to find Grover’s father taking up the rear, the way he always seemed to be doing when they were together, and they were always together.
“You won’t see him, babe,” he murmurs.
“Dad passed away three years ago,” Grover announces.
My heart squeezes. I didn’t know. Of course I didn’t know. I hadn’t even thought it was possible, let alone that it could happen. Grover’s father was larger than life, a big man who was untouchable by anything bad in life—especially death.
Nash sinks down on a knee beside me. “Who’s this little guy?” he asks.
I tip my chin. The obvious change in subject needed, for me, for Nash, for Grover, doesn’t matter… it was just needed.
“This is my son, Adam.” I place my hand on top of Adam’s head.
Nash holds out his hand, and I watch as they shake. “I’m Nash,” he offers, speaking low and clear.
“Nice to meet you.”
Adam’s little-boy voice surprises me. Not because he’s being polite but because I can tell he’s trying to be a grown-up.
He’s trying to be manly, like Nash and Grover.
I didn’t know he was missing that. I didn’t think he needed a man in his life yet.
I figured I had a few more years until it was a true need.
But it’s clear to me in this moment that he needs a man to look up to.
He needs his father. And I need to come straight out and tell him the truth of it all. He needs to know that Adam is his, and Adam needs to know that he belongs to someone, not just me, but to Grover, too.
“Made pancakes. You want some?” Grover asks with a grunt.
Nash turns his head to look up at Grover, but before he answers him, his gaze shifts back quickly to Adam.
“Well, you look exactly like your daddy, especially when he was your age,” Nash announces.
My heart stops.
My breath stops.
My secret is out.
Oh. My. God.
I can feel Grover’s gaze on me. His eyes are burning my skin, but I don’t look at him.
I can’t. Nash slowly stands to his feet, oblivious to the sudden change in the atmosphere.
He moves past me, patting my shoulder as he does, and makes his way somewhere behind me, presumably into the kitchen or dining room, but I can’t move—I can’t even blink.
ATOMIC
My entire body jerks as my eyes fly up to look at the woman standing across from me. The way Nash says that Adam looks exactly like me at that age makes me pause. I’ve suspected since the moment I knew of his existence. The time line matches up, but then again, so does her story.
I don’t know if I was living in denial, not wanting to believe that it could be true, but now that he’s said it and she’s not denying it… is it true?
Is Adam Turner my son?
My flesh and blood?
“Ryan,” I rasp when she doesn’t look at me.
I’m staring right at her, unable to blink as I wait for her to lift her gaze to meet mine. I need her to look at me. Right fucking now. Slowly, almost as if she’s lifting her eyelids through molasses, her eyes find mine.
I realize in this moment as if I’m finally seeing clearly, for the first time since she walked back into my life, that she’s been keeping this from me. This is a secret that I’m not sure she was ever planning on telling me.
“Ryan,” I repeat, my voice a little harder.
Adam senses the tension, and without a word, he slowly melts into the background, no doubt to find some cars to play with or maybe to talk to Nash.
Or maybe he’s scared shitless and running off to hide.
I’m not sure, but I can’t tear my gaze away from this woman long enough to see where he’s run off.
“He’s yours,” she whispers.
My heart races, then it grows and practically explodes in my chest. I’m filled with pride, at the same time, rage flows through my veins as well. I’m a mix of about a hundred different emotions. I’m not sure what to say or where to begin.
“Please say something,” she says, pleading and begging all at the same time.
Three little words have never sounded so strained, and yet I can’t oblige her request. I take a step backward, lifting my hand and running my fingers through my hair. I’m not sure what to say about any of this.
What I want to say will no doubt send her off crying, but maybe that’s what she needs. I’m trying to be a better man, a better president, by thinking before I speak or react, but the only things I can think right now are laced with anger.
“You don’t want to know what I have to say, Ryan.”
She takes half a step backward, but to her credit, she doesn’t completely cower in fear of me. Although, I think she probably should. The only other time I felt this angry was when she took off with the Nomad Kings MC and took fifty thousand of my fucking dollars along with her.
But I let her go.
My pride wouldn’t let me chase after her, but I’m not that man any longer. She’s not going anywhere this time. And she sure as fuck is not taking my son anywhere either.
“So you were going to keep him from me? Forever?” I demand.
She shakes her head once, her eyes staying focused on mine as she does. I watch as she presses her pretty pink lips together, rolling them a few times before she parts them and inhales a deep breath, effectively buying herself a little time.
“Not forever,” she begins, her voice trembling and her eyes full of fear, as they fucking should be. “I just…” Her words trail off, but she doesn’t finish what she intended to say, and I don’t have all fucking day for this conversation. I have shit to do and business to handle.
I open my mouth and start to tell her just that when Nash’s voice breaks through our tense moment.
“Cut the kid a break, Atomic,” he calls out.
Both of our heads twist to look over at him. He’s sitting at the table, a stack of pancakes in front of him. Inwardly, I smile because while we’ve been having this conversation, he actually fried those up himself, seeing as I had a bowl of batter but no more pancakes cooked.
“What?” I ask.
He jerks his chin toward me. “You think that Ryan did that maliciously? Or do you think it was in the name of self-preservation and possibly fear of the unknown? You, of all people, should know at least a little of the hell she’s been through, and my guess would be that it’s been more than what you even realize. So cut her a break.”
I want to tell him that he’s a fucking asshole, that he’s full of shit, and that he’s wrong.
But every single thing he’s just said is absolutely correct.
I should not hold all of this against her.
I shouldn’t be so angry. Ryan went through hell as a kid, and even more so with her fucking cunt of a sister.
She’s been raising Adam by herself, but at the same time, she chose to do all this shit alone. I have only been a few hours away, and she should know that I, of all people, would take care of my responsibilities.
“But that’s just it,” she whispers. I didn’t realize that I said anything out loud.
I’ve been fucking lost in my thoughts. “I knew you would take care of your responsibilities, but I didn’t want me or my son to just be something you took care of out of a sense of duty.
You had your life. It was clear that even being in a relationship wasn’t going to change that life, and I couldn’t be here. ”
Naturally, I understand what she’s saying. But my pride will never, not fucking ever, admit that.
“You fucked up, legs. You took something away from me, and I’m not going to shrug that shit off.”
“I understand,” she exhales.
“No, you don’t. But you will.”