Chapter Nine
Fatherhood?
Maverick
I don’t sleep. Not one single fucking second.
Every time I shut my eyes, I see her face when Skye said the name. I hear it echoing in my head, over and over. Ivy. And then I remember the car seat, the pink fabric, the crayon. A whole life I’d never been part of. She could be my kid.
I paced my apartment half the night, chain-smoking, clenching and unclenching my fists until they ached. Trying to find some excuse, some reason why it couldn’t be true. But the math was too clean, the timeline too perfect.
She was mine. And Zora kept her from me.
By the time dawn bleeds gray across the sky, I’m done pacing and done wondering. I need answers.
****
I’m at House of Ink before the sun is fully up, sitting in the shadows of my booth like a loaded gun, waiting. My stomach churns, my skin buzzing with something I can’t shake. Rage. Fear. Loss. All twisted together.
When the door finally opens, Zora steps inside, camera bag slung over her shoulder, her hair pulled back in a messy knot. She freezes when she sees me.
“Maverick,” she breathes, wary, like I’m a storm she hoped would blow past.
I stand, every muscle coiled tight. “We need to talk.”
Her fingers tighten on the strap of her bag. “It’s early. The others...”
“They’re not here yet.” My voice comes out rough and sharp. “Which is good. Because this is between you and me.”
Her throat works as she swallows. “Maverick...”
“Who is she to me, Zora?” The words crack out before I can even try to stop them, raw and jagged. “Ivy. Who the hell is she?”
Her lips part, but no sound comes out. Just silence that tells me more than words ever could. I step closer, fury and grief burning through me. “Don’t. Don’t lie to me. I saw it in your face yesterday. I’ve seen it in your eyes every damn day since I came back. She’s mine, isn’t she?”
Her chest rises and falls too fast, panic flickering across her features. She tries to look away, but I catch her chin, forcing her to meet my gaze. “Say it.”
Her eyes shimmer, wide and wet, but she doesn’t speak. She doesn’t really have to because I already know. The air is punched out of me. Six years of my life, just gone. Six years of hers. First steps, first words, first laugh. All of it stolen.
My grip falls away as I stagger back a step, shaking my head like I can somehow make it untrue. “You kept her from me.”
Zora flinches. “Mav, listen...”
“No!” My voice roars in the empty shop, bouncing off the walls. “Don’t you dare justify this. Don’t you dare tell me why you thought it was okay to rob me of my kid.”
Tears streak down her cheeks. “You weren’t ready. You were drowning, Maverick. You were angry, reckless. You would’ve drowned her too.”
Her words slice through me, but I can’t let them stick. “You don’t get to decide that for me. She’s my daughter.”
“She’s my responsibility,” she shoots back, her voice breaking. “I did what I had to do to keep her safe.”
“Safe from me?” The words are bitter. Does she really think I could hurt my own child?
Zora covers her face with her hands, sobbing softly. “I was terrified. You left, Mav. You disappeared. And when I found out, when I saw those two lines, I couldn’t gamble with her life. I couldn’t gamble on you.”
Her honesty is a knife in my ribs. Because part of me knows she is right. Back then, I’d been poison. Drinking and fighting and bad decisions. But the truth didn’t soften the betrayal.
I lost six years that I can never get back.
“You should’ve told me,” I whisper, my voice raw. “You should’ve given me a chance to be her father. You took that from me.”
Her tears keep falling, her whole body shaking. “I thought I was protecting her. Protecting both of us.”
I slam my hand against the counter, the crack echoing through the quiet. “You don’t get to decide that. Not anymore. She’s mine, Zora. Mine. And you don’t get to keep her from me anymore.”
The silence after is suffocating. She crumples into the nearest chair, burying her face in her hands, and I stand there trembling, my chest heaving, every part of me cracked wide open.
If the others had walked in right then, they would’ve seen me undone. But they didn’t. It was just us, drowning in the wreckage of everything.
I storm past her, moving toward the door, because if I stay another second, I’ll break. My voice cuts through the air, final and sharp, before I leave her behind.
“She’s mine, Zora. And you don’t get to keep her from me anymore.”