“I’m sorry that I told you this way, but you needed to know. That little girl is Royal’s child. I’ve been visiting her since she was a baby. I’ve been protecting her and looking out for her. I know Royal won’t speak of her. He never does.”
I shake my head and fall against my car, suddenly feeling weak. “No. That can’t be true. She’s dead,” I say softly. “There has to be a mistake. Royal said she was dead. He said . . .”
Mark rushes over and grabs my arm, pulling me back up straight when I about fall over. “What are you saying?” He screams, while supporting me against the car. “What do you mean Royal said she’s dead?”
“He said they both died,” I cry. “Blaine told me the same thing. They both think they lost her.”
Mark pulls me into his arms and holds me as I cry into his chest. “Royal thinks she’s dead. He thinks she’s dead and now he’s gone. He’s fucking gone and I can’t tell him that she’s here.”
“Fuck. This cannot be happening. Payton is a dirty fucking piece of shit cop, and I’m willing to bet he was in on this shit along with Royal’s fucking parents. I knew that son of a bitch was fucked up in the head.”
“What are you saying,” I question. “What does that mean? Why would they do that to him?” I pull away and push at Mark’s chest, feeling overwhelmed. “How could you think that Royal would give his daughter up? He would never do that!”
He punches the top of his car a few times, before gripping it again. “It means that Royal’s parents forged his signature, and Payton and them made Royal believe she was dead. It also means that it would be Royal’s word against Payton’s. He stands no chance at fighting him in court. I never fucking talked about her to him because I didn’t want to bring up the memories and pain of that night. I always suspected that he gave her up because it hurt him too much. I was a fucking idiot. You’re right. I should have known he wouldn’t give her up. Fuck!”
“I want her,” I say without hesitation. “Tell me what I need to do to get her out of there and into my home.”
Mark nods his head. “I’ll do everything that I can.” His eyes meet mine. “Are you sure you want to do this? Don’t take on something that you can’t handle. This is a little girl that we’re talking about here. I need to know that you really want her, and will take care of her and love her as your own.”
“Please,” I say firmly. “I love him. That is his child in there and I’ll love her too. I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life. Help me.”
“Alright,” he says softly. “Just don’t let that little girl down. If Royal doesn’t come back . . . it’s the two of you against the world. You’re her family. You need to know that.”
“I know . . .” I whisper.
That’s something he’ll never have to worry about. That little girl has just become part of my life now. Royal has the other part and I’m not giving up until I’m whole.
One Month Later . . .
IT’S PAST MIDNIGHT, AND JUST like every other night in this shithole motel I can’t sleep for shit. There are so many fucked up thoughts running through my head that almost none of it seems to make sense anymore. It pisses me the hell off. It’s been a whole month since I left her, and I’m no closer to having my shit together now than I did the night I took off.
The thing that seems to me haunting me the most, though, is the look in Avalon’s eyes as I left her in tears, running after me in my sheet that night. Fuck, it shoots right through me and straight to my heart, weakening me from the one spot that I thought no one would be able to reach again . . . but she has. She has my heart in her grasp and I’m willing to let her keep it as long as I can’t hurt her.
I never wanted to have that power over someone else again: to be able to hurt another or let her down. Not like I did Olivia. I was doing so fucking good, keeping everyone at a distance, until she walked through that door, knocking me on my fucking ass and making me want her.
I gave her the opportunity to see me. To see the real me, giving her the chance to run before it was too late . . . but she didn’t. Instead she did the exact opposite and fell for me.
She fell in love with me. She told me she wanted me and needed me.
Every time I think about it, I tell myself that she has to be just as fucked up as I am to believe she’s in love with me.
Time . . .
With time she will see the truth and her eyes will start to open up to the fact that there’s nothing good about me. I’m not a good fucking man that will bring her flowers and plan romantic candlelit dinners and then make love to her, whispering in her ear that she’s my one true love. I can’t be what she deserves. I’m not sure I can be anything.
She just can’t love me. I need enough time and distance between us for her to see that so I can’t fucking hurt her.
Reaching over beside me to the sticky table, I grab the bottle of whiskey and bring it to my lips, while powering up my phone and watching as it lights up.
It’s that time of the night that I know Jax or Blaine’s text will be waiting for me, letting me know the same thing they tell me every day: Avalon is good and safe.
That’s all I asked from both of them when I left. I don’t want anything else at the moment, and I know that Jax and Blaine are the only two that truly understand how my head works.
Every other message that I receive throughout the day gets deleted without even a second thought, because I know if I allow myself to read any messages from Avalon I will break and only drag her down with me.
It’s not safe yet. Not until I can get my head straight and figure out a way to move on.
Setting down the bottle, I rub my hands down my face and release a deep breath. “I need to know that what I’m doing is the right thing, Olivia. I need to know that these feelings I have inside are true. I need a sign from you. Please.”
I shake my head and look around the dark, stale room, wishing that things didn’t have to be this way. I hate it here and I hate that I can’t be with her. It makes me feel less alive more and more each day.
“I love her,” I say in a pained voice, hoping that Olivia understands. “I love her so fucking much, but I’m scared. I don’t want to hurt her. Can you tell me that I won’t . . . because I can’t?”
I turn on our song for the hundredth time tonight and close my eyes, pretending that everything will be okay.
That I somehow can remember how to live again . . .
Five Months Later . . .
“KYLIE! WHERE ARE YOU, GIGGLES?” I yell, while opening up the lower cabinets in the kitchen and pretending to look inside. “Hmm, I wonder where Kylie could be? Somebody sure is good at disappearing! Must be magical . . .”
I hear her tiny, high-pitched giggle coming from under the kitchen table, but I continue to play along and look everywhere else except the place I know she is hiding.
She laughs again as I walk over to the table and shake my head, as if I’m disappointed that I can’t find her.
“Oh man . . . she must be gone. Shucks! Too many magical skittles today.” I reach for her favorite pink plastic bowl. “I guess I will just have to eat this macaroni and cheese all by myself.”
Laughing, she runs out from under the table and dives at my leg, squeezing it in her little arms. “Mommy! Mine! Mine!”