“Then stop being an ass,” he scolds. “Who is she?” he asks again.
Briefly eyeing Asher, I meet my father’s intense gaze. “She’s Asher’s little sister.”
His brows furrow as he looks at the man sitting next to me in confusion. “You have a little sister?”
Asher nods. “I don’t think you’ve ever met her. She’s quite a bit younger than us.”
“How much younger?”
“Dad—“
“How. Much. Younger. Credence?”
“Nine years younger. She’s fucking twenty years old, okay?!” I snap. “Fuckin’ A, Dad, it’s not like I’m robbing the cradle.” I throw my weight back into the seat and rub my hands down my face, the gauze catching on the stubble that I definitely didn’t shave in the shower earlier.
My dad is quiet, but the couch starts to shake with Asher’s silent laughter. He fucking baited me, knowing how protective my dad is of women and children. I peek at him through my hands, and the fucker is, in fact, laughing at me.
“Oh, you fucking asshole,” I spit, sending my uninjured fist flying into his right bicep. He groans at the contact, but the guy is so goddamned massive these days that I doubt the hit actually caused him any pain.
My dad would’ve ripped me a new asshole and buried me six feet under had she been any younger, not that I would’ve done a damn thing with her if she were still in her teens. He’d nevereven met her before, so I’m sure he was assuming the worst about our age gap.
We didn’t convene at my house very often, and when we did, it was so I could play music with my buddies when my dad was working and the garage was vacant.
“Her name is Collins, by the way.” I say when Asher’s laughter quietens. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you any of this sooner,” I apologize, turning back to my father.
Dad gets this weird, contemplative look in his eyes, and it takes a few seconds for him to fully process what I’ve said. He pales a little when something that looks a whole lot like recognition takes over his features. It has my brows pinching and I lean forward in my seat. “What?”
“I—years ago,” he starts, running a hand through his salt and peppered hair. I get my black hair from him, but he’s only recently started to gray a little on the sides and top. “I transported a young woman to the airport by that name.”
That gets both mine and Asher’s attention, and both of us sit up straighter at his admission. Asher asks, “What kind of transport? What did she look like?”
“Just a regular taxi service,” he answers, shaking his head, eyes becoming distant as he recalls whatever happened. “It was dark out. Usually I don’t pay much attention to my regular taxi service rides, but I remember something hadn’t sat right with me when she left instructions to meet her up the street.” He runs a hand over his scruff before clasping his hands tightly between his knees. “I waited for several minutes and I couldn’t bring myself to leave. Even up the street, I heard her distress. I got out of my car to find her being crowded by a man about my age. I was too far away to see her face, but I could feel the fear radiating off of her.”
My stomach pitches as his story begins to fill in the missing pieces of the last night I spoke to her before she disappeared onme. I swallow thickly as he continues. “This fucker had his hand around her throat, snarling something in her ear. I couldn’t just sit back and watch. When I confronted them, he let her go, and I stood there long enough to let her safely get into the car.”
The more he speaks, the more I’m certain it was her, but I have to know for sure if this was really a fucking weird twist of fate that it was my father, of all people, who helped her escape Guy’s clutches the first time or not.
Asher looks like a ghost beside me, learning more about the life Collins went through when he was trying to put himself back together. His hands are shaking in his lap while he listens, so I reach over and take one in mine, giving it a soft squeeze before lacing my fingers with his, ignoring the way the motion makes my injured knuckles throb. His eyes meet mine, and while he doesn’t smile or react, he gives a gentle squeeze, letting me feel the gratitude over the small gesture.
I look back to my dad and nod for him to continue, “What did she look like?”
He looks down at the ground, and a small smile tugs at his lips. “A tiny thing. Quiet but sweet. Pretty. I didn’t see much of her on the ride to the airport, but when I helped get her suitcase out of the car at the terminal, that’s when I got a good look at her. She had this mess of white hair on her head and these wild green eyes. Ton of freckles.” He heaves a heavy breath as he lifts his gaze to mine and Asher’s, something in his eyes shifting. “If the man she escaped wasn’t indicator enough, I knew she was running. She was covered in random cuts and bruises. She tried to hide them, but hoodies and sweats in the dead of summer don’t fool me. Believe me when I say that nothing felt better than watching her disappear through those terminal doors. She wasn’t a victim I was assigned to protect and help, but it was the best job I’d taken on that day.”
“You saved her,” Asher rasps, his voice choking on the emotion clogging his throat. His hand tightens around mine. “You saved my baby sister, Garrick.”
My dad simply nods. “And I’ll help you do it again.” He knows what Asher went through, but he had no idea what my best friend had to leave behind to get his life back on track. I’m sure he’s pieced the timeline together by now, and I know he doesn’t blame Asher in the slightest. “However you need me, I’m there. Okay?”
Asher releases my hand and nods as he slumps to the side on the couch. Dad looks at me after a moment and asks a question through a pinched expression that tells me he’d rather not ask at all, but curiosity must have gotten the better of him. “Earlier…” he hesitates, “You just said…that you made thembothyours.”
“Yes.”
He raises a brow. “And?”
“And what?”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means they are both mine to love and care for.”
