I let all the tears fall.
I let my shoulders shake as soul-deep sobs shook my entire body.
I let all the grief and sorrow that was swimming under the surface for so long rise up and rush out with the hot tears that were scalding my cheeks.
Vaguely I heard the passenger door to my truck open, and a moment later, I felt a massive, warm hand land on the back of my still shorn head. I would know my dad’s touch anywhere. It was always the steadiest, most solid thing in my life. It never wavered. Never stopped being reassuring. It never ceased to comfort and console me. My dad was the epitome of a gentle giant. Everything about him was bigger than average, including his capacity to love.
“Welcome home, kid.” His voice was gruff and thick with emotion. “Feels like I’ve been waiting for this moment since you walked out the door. Your mom and I are sure glad to have you back.”
I sucked in a hard breath and lifted the back of my hand to drag it across my wet cheeks. I rolled my head to the side so I could look at my old man and whispered, “It’s good to be home.”
My dad and I shared several features. We both had dark brown hair, but his was on the longer side with a wave, where mine had been cut short to my head for many, many years. We shared bright green eyes, and we were both tall, though I’d never quite caught up to his towering height or his massive build. I also never managed to grow a beard the way he did. His was a permanent feature on his face, and I wasn’t sure I would recognize him without it.
“You can do this, Hyde. You’re going to be everything that little girl needs. Your mom and I have full faith in you, and we’re right around the corner if you need anything. You are not alone in this. You’ve never been alone.” He moved his hand to the back of my neck and gave the tense muscles there a squeeze. It was a motion he’d used to relax me ever since I was a little kid.
When he first brought me home from foster care after my Aunt Echo went out of her way to track him down and let him know he had a child my mother never told him about, it took a bit for both of us to adjust to each other. I lived in fear that he’d send me back to foster care, or that strangers would come and take me away for a long time. I was far from the average five-year-old, and it took a lot of work on both our parts for us to finally feel like a family. Him holding me by the back of the neck and wordlessly letting me know he had my back was always the quickest way to set right the things that were in turmoil in my world.
“I’m so scared, Dad. I can’t fuck this up.” I released a long, slow breath and did my best to pull myself together.
He squeezed my neck again before he dropped his hold on me. “You’re gonna fuck it up. But you’re also gonna hit it out of the park on occasion. That’s what happens when you’re a parent. There’s a learning curve, but you’ve always been quick. You’ll learn to ride the ups and downs like a pro, the same way I did with you.”
I took a minute to pull myself together both mentally and physically, finally reaching across the cab to give my old man a tight hug.
“It feels good to be back.” It really did.
After an appropriate amount of back pounding, he released me, and I noticed his eyes were also glassy, and his face was flushed with emotion. It looked like I wasn’t the only one having difficulty getting a handle on their emotions.
“Come on. Let’s introduce everyone to your baby girl. They’re all jealous that your mom and I are the first ones to be grandparents.” He chuckled. “Not that any of them are rushing their kids into parenthood just yet. They’re all still too young, except for you and…” He trailed off a bit and looked away awkwardly.
“Me and Remy.” I said the name he didn’t want to mention. “We’re the two oldest of the bunch.” And probably the two most screwed up. I lifted an eyebrow and asked, “Is she here?”
I’d wondered during the long, lonely hours sitting next to my baby in an incubator, silently praying that she’d be okay, if Remy knew I’d met a girl and became a father. I wasn’t sure why she was in my head in the worst moments of my life, but she always had been.
My father shook his head. “No. Her folks and brother are here, but they said she couldn’t make it.” My dad and Remy’s dad had long worked closely together on different business ventures. Our moms were also pretty friendly, so our families were close all our lives. “It’s probably for the best. You need to get yourself and Hollyn settled in and situated before facing old ghosts. And Remy might need some time to sit with the idea that you’re a father. You both have different priorities now than when you were kids. She just came back home as well. Rome told me she’s working hard to find her footing and finally settle down in one place. I think it’s a good idea to keep some space between the two of you.”
As easy going as my dad was, he’d never quite gotten over the fact that my leaving Colorado and enlisting was directly tied to Remy nearly taking her own life. I tried to explain many times that I was already planning on going into the military for my own reasons, but he wasn’t swayed. At the end of the day, both sets of parents would prefer that their grown children just stay the hell away from each other.
I couldn’t promise that.
Even if I tried to keep my distance, there was no telling if Remy would keep hers. We were both pretty bad at being able to do what might be the best thing for ourselves.
I climbed out of the truck and stretched out my back. I swore softly when it popped and cracked in a hundred different ways of protest. I heard my mom call my name and turned my head to look in her direction, but was immediately distracted when a sleek, flashy street bike suddenly roared up the quiet side street, screeching to halt barely a foot away from the toes of my boots.
Rome Archer liked Harleys that were loud and built to be intimidating. His kids liked machines that went fast and looked dangerous. I remembered clearly how worried I was when Remy demanded Zowen teach her how to ride his beat-up old dirt bike he got when he was barely thirteen. She wasn’t about to let her brother have all the fun, even though she didn’t have half the sense of self-preservation he did. I was sure the street bike today belonged to Zowen. But there was zero doubt in my mind that the delicate-looking rider was Remy. My guess was proven correct when the visor of the all-black helmet lifted, and I was pinned in place by a pair of eyes that couldn’t decide if they wanted to be blue or brown. The padding on the inside of the helmet obscured most of her features, but I could tell she wasn’t smiling or particularly glad to see me. None of our reunions since the night I left had been easy or fun, and it didn’t look like this one was going to be either. She was not overflowing with welcome or well wishes.
She turned the bike off and adjusted her stance so she could pull down the lower half of the helmet to speak.
“The prodigal son has returned.”
We stared at each other for a long, tense moment while I wrapped my head around what I could possibly say. All I could come up with was, “And so has the prodigal daughter.”
Her eyebrows twitched a bit before she reached behind her and pulled something very pink and very fluffy out of the black leather backpack she had strapped on. “I wasn’t going to come and ruin your welcome home, but I didn’t want to be the only asshole who didn’t congratulate you on your new baby, and give my condolences on your loss.” She shoved the stuffed animal in my direction and finally broke into a lopsided grin. “I hated soft, pink toys when I was little. I preferred your trucks and building blocks. When she gets a little older, if she wants to play with things that have wheels, let me know and I’ll bring her a toy truck instead.” Remy shifted her slight weight and reached for the ignition while pushing her helmet back into place. And just like that, I knew she was going to disappear just as quickly as she arrived.