Chapter Three #2
He hugs me close, enfolding me in his arms. “There now. Come, it’s not safe out here like this. I’ll give you a ride.”
“I can’t go home,” I tell him.
Not tonight. Maybe not ever.
He doesn’t ask why or convince me otherwise. Instead, he wraps a comforting arm around my shoulders and ushers me to his truck. “You’ll come home with me then.”
Time passes in a heartbreaking blur and sometime later I’m at his kitchen table, a thick wool blanket draped over my shoulders. I sit with a cup of hot tea in front of me, my tears of sorrow spilling into the steaming mug.
Thatcher takes the seat next to me, resting his mangled hand that’s missing half of its fingers over mine. “Talk to me, darlin’. Whatever it is we’ll figure it out.”
“There’s no fixing this,” I tell him, feeling hopeless.
“There’s always a solution. God created them all. We just have to find them.” He gazes back at me patiently, his eyes warm with kindness. So many people fear this man when he’s never been anything but generous and gentle. At least to me.
“I’m pregnant,” I whisper, speaking the words out loud for the first time. “Justice is the father.”
Shock registers on his face seconds before he sits back in his chair and lets go of a long exhale.
“I didn’t mean for it to happen,” I cry. “I swear I didn’t.”
“There now,” he coaxes, rubbing my arm. “Of course you didn’t mean for it to happen. You are not alone in this, Ryanne.”
He’s wrong. I am alone and everything that happened tonight proves it.
“What did my son say when you told him?”
I shake my head. “I haven’t. I can’t.”
“You must. He will do right by you and this beautiful child.”
“I tried. I went there tonight but…” I trail off, unable to confess to him what I saw. I don’t have to though, he sees it in the pain written all over my face.
“My boys are complicated,” he says.
A sad smile cracks my lips. “Justice said the same thing.”
“They’re good boys but they’ve had a hard go at life.”
I wouldn’t know anything about it because Justice has never opened up about his life before Thatcher. In all fairness, I never prodded much either. He made certain I knew all of that was off limits from the very beginning.
Other than the difference of their skin color, you would never know the boys didn’t belong to Thatcher. They may not have the same blood running through their veins but he loves the boys as his own. You can hear it in his voice and see it in his eyes every time he speaks of them.
They are lucky to have him. Lucky enough to have one person who loves and cares about them. I’ve never even had that. No siblings, no other relatives. Only two parents who have hated me since the moment I was born.
“I love him, Thatcher, I always have. But I can’t have this baby here. My parents will never allow it and for as long as the boys do what they do,” I pause, swallowing thickly, “everyone will question whose it is.”
Disappointment hardens his expression. “I understand you’re scared and I don’t blame you. But we can work this out.”
“How? You know what the people in this town are capable of, especially the founding families.” I cover his destroyed hand with my own, driving my point home, and the agony that adopts his face strikes me in the chest.
Something awful happened years ago, something way before my generation. I don’t know exactly what, everyone is tight-lipped about it, but it’s big and it involves Thatcher. That much I know.
I go on to tell him about my violent encounter with Derek outside the apartment building, holding no detail back. It has my skin crawling and terror racking my body all over again.
“I fear for my baby here. I know my parents and nothing will stop them from doing what they have to in order to protect our family’s reputation.”
Something flashes across his face, a decision, an acceptance—resolution. He stands from the table and leaves the room only to come back a moment later with a thick brown envelope.
“What’s this?” I ask as he hands it to me.
“Open it.”
Lifting the seal, I reach inside and pull out a large stack of money.
“That will be enough to get you by for a little while.”
My eyes dart up to his and I quickly shake my head. “Thatcher, no. I couldn’t. I didn’t mean—”
“Hush, child. You can and you will.” He reaches over, laying a gentle hand on my arm again.
“I love my boy and I strongly believe he deserves to know, but I also agree that you can’t stay here.
Not while you’re pregnant. I don’t trust them people.
” Anger creeps into his voice, his expression hardening.
“One day you will tell my son but I’ll let you decide when.
In the meantime, we get you out of here and keep you safe. ”
I look back down at the money, an internal war battling inside of me. As horrible as I feel to accept it, I know it’s my only chance at escape. “I’ll pay you back. Every cent,” I promise.
“Don’t fret about that. Just worry about yourself and that precious grandbaby of mine.”
His grandchild. My and Justice’s baby.
The knowledge burns in my mind and heart. Lowering one hand to my belly, I silently vow to love and protect this child with everything I am, promising to give it the home I never had but always longed for.
That night my life changed irrevocably. I fled Mississippi, leaving behind the one man I would always love. I did it for the sake of my baby and freedom, vowing to never return for as long as I live.