He takes the last few steps and his arms wrap around me.
It’s a foreign feeling at first. His scent fills my nose, and its familiar. Comforting. A tear slips down my cheek. This feeling, this love, comfort, was ripped away from me. My body slowly relaxes in his hold.
He pulls back, brushing his thumb across my cheek, brushing my tears away.
“You’re so grown up,” he whispers then shakes his head. “I’ve missed you so much.”
He pulls me back into his arms, and I let him. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Maeve wiping at her face.
He lets me go but his hands linger on my arms for a bit longer. Then moves the chair closer to the bed.
“Happy late eighteenth birthday.” His smile is small.
My fingers twitch underneath the blanket. My chest flutters.
“Thanks.”
Lucian nods once, his jaw tight. “I never wanted this to be how I found you. In a hospital bed. Hurt.” He pauses, clenching his jaw and taking a slow breath. “You’ve been through things no child should ever endure. And I know I can’t change that. But I can promise you this, Gracie… I need you to hear this and believe me when I say I will do everything in my power to protect you.”
I want to believe him. God, I want to. But I’ve heard promises before. From people who were supposed to love me. Still, something in his eyes makes my heart skip, not fear this time, but hope.
Recognition. Like he’s known me all along. Like I’ve known him.
There’s something about how he says the words, like this isn’t a father making an empty promise, it’s a man with means and power.
I blink fast, throat closing again. He doesn’t say ‘I’m sorry’. He doesn’t say ‘You’re safe now’ like some empty comfort. He tells me the only thing I want and need to hear.
“Why didn’t you keep looking for me?” It comes out accusatory.
He freezes for a second then his shoulders drop. “Oh, Gracie, I did. I hired private investigators and they couldn’t find what happened to you. And the news… people eventually move on. But I promise you I never moved on. I prayed every day that I’d find you.”
I look at him, his shoulders relaxed, his face open and the sincerity in his eyes is easy to see.
“Why do you keep calling her ‘Gracie’?” Maeve is staring a hole into his head.
He smiles at her and then turns to me. “We named you after my mom. She died when I was twenty. She was an amazing woman. When you were little, I was the only one you allowed to call you Gracie.”
My chest warms.
“I’m not here to take anything from you.” He holds up his hands. “Not your name. Not your friends. Not your life. If you want me to call you Isobel instead, I can.”
“No, it’s okay. I like Gracie, but only you.” I smile.
A smile creeps across his face as if those words make him the happiest man in the world.
“Gracie it is then.”
There’s a beat of silence.
“Mama never really talked about you.”
Lucian’s jaw flexes.
“She never said your name. Not once. Just… looked over her shoulder all the time. I remember now she said we were going on vacation.”
I pause, fingers twisting in the sheets. “I asked when I was little. Where you were? She just told me to drop it. Said you were dangerous. That we had to keep moving.”
I can see the tension in every line of his body.
