His arms slowly came around me. “I never meant to hurt you by keeping her from you. But it’s what I had to do. I know you’re all grown up now, but when I look at you I still see my little girl in pigtails. Every time I tried to tell you, I got high instead. I wasn’t brave enough to hurt you. I hope you can forgive me and your grandmama. She agreed with me that you didn’t need to know about your mother until you were grown. You were sick, baby, and I knew I couldn’t lose you, too. That would have destroyed me.”
I tightened my hold on him and buried my face in his chest and sobbed quietly. I couldn’t hate him for this. It wasn’t fair, but I understood. “I love you,” I told him.
“I love you, too. And that woman in there adored you. She never left your side when you were in the hospital. She believed you were our special gift. I remember the look on her face when you took your first step. You were her angel from heaven, and when I lost her I knew I had to protect you.”
I closed my eyes tightly and fought off the tears. I wanted to get control of myself so I could go back in there and see her again. When my sobs finally eased and my tears dried up, I gazed up at my dad. “Can I go back in there?”
He reached up and wiped my face then nodded. “Of course.”
Grant
Aphone call from Dean had gotten me past the large iron gates of Manor in the Hills. I didn’t intend to go inside. I just wanted to park and wait on Harlow to come outside. She’d been here at least two hours by now. I closed the car door and stepped around the front of the car so I could see the front doors. When she came out, I would be here.
If she didn’t want to see me, fine. I’d just follow the limo back to Vegas. But if she needed me, I was available. I was stupid enough to think that because I had gotten her to f**k me in a bathroom, all was forgiven. I still had a lot to prove to her. And if she would give me a chance I’d always be there when she needed it.
I hadn’t been waiting but ten minutes when the door to the Manor opened and Harlow walked out. From here, I could see she’d been crying. I made my way toward her. She didn’t notice me at first. She was wiping her eyes and walking down the steps when I made it to the bottom. Her eyes lifted and widened when she saw me standing there. This was it. She was going to yell at me to leave or she was going to—
Harlow ran down the stairs and threw herself into my arms and began sobbing. I held her against my chest tightly and closed my eyes. I was immediately thankful I’d come. I’d been right. She needed me.
I didn’t ask. I just let her cry and held her. Both her hands grabbed fistfuls of my T-shirt as her body shook. My chest ached with each pitiful noise that came from her. I wanted to fix this. I wanted to go inside and fix anything that upset her, but how the hell did I fix this? I couldn’t.
“He . . . he brushes her hair,” she said as a sob racked her body again.
He brushes her hair. What? Was she talking about her dad? I didn’t ask. I just let her talk.
“She smiles at him,” she choked out.
Yes, she was talking about her dad. I tried to imagine Kiro brushing a woman’s hair, one who couldn’t speak or move. It didn’t seem like those two things went together. I couldn’t see Kiro brushing anyone’s hair but his own, and that was rare.
“Oh, God, Grant, my heart hurts so bad. He’s so sweet with her. It’s like there’s this man I never knew existed. She can’t do anything. Nothing. I don’t even know if she even understands what he’s saying, but he talks to her like she understands everything. He still loves her. Completely. And he gets nothing in return.”
I glanced up at the mansion in front of me and tried to imagine what she was telling me, but I couldn’t. I’d seen Kiro f**k a woman on his pool table who I was pretty sure was barely nineteen. He was drinking vodka straight out of the bottle and smoking a joint at the same time as he did this. It was forever burned in my thirteen-year-old brain.
I held Harlow and ran my hand down over her hair, trying to soothe her even if it was impossible. She didn’t say anything else. Finally her sobbing eased off and she let go of my shirt and smoothed it out where she had wrinkled it. Not that I gave a shit. She could have the shirt if she wanted it.
“You’re here,” she finally said, looking up at me with a wet face that was still breathtakingly beautiful. How did she do that? Always so damn perfect. She made it hard on a man.
“I thought you might need someone.”
She gave me a shaky smile. “You were right.”
I reached up and wiped away the tears still clinging to her cheeks with my thumbs. “If you ever need me, I’m here,” I told her.
She sighed and closed her eyes briefly. “That doesn’t help,” she said.
“Why?” I thought having me at her beck and call would be pretty damn helpful.
“I’m trying to keep you at arm’s length. Being sweet makes it hard.”
So that’s what this was about. Well, she hadn’t seen anything yet. I was gonna make it even harder before it was over.
“I thought we had gotten rid of that arm’s-length thing in the bathroom on the plane,” I replied, trying to get a real smile out of her.
She cocked her eyebrow. “No. That was because you’re ridiculously sexy and you give me really amazing orgasms.”
I could work with that.
“Anytime you want one of those all you have to do is crook that pretty little finger,” I replied, and this time she did smile. A real smile. One that lit up all the darkness in her eyes.