I sighed, not having the energy to defend Rhys or myself.Truth was, I didn’t know what he wanted.The man on the phone had sounded like my Rhys, but with harder edges.He’d called me “honey” and “baby” like no time had passed, and my traitor heart had leapt at the words despite everything.But I couldn’t afford to hope for anything beyond his help for Brynn.
The monitor tracking Brynn’s blood pressure and heart rate ticked upward, betraying her anxiety despite her attempted nonchalance.I gently squeezed her hand.
“Just give him a chance, OK?You don’t have to love him or even like him.I want you to think about something, though.He left almost the second I hung up with him.At two in the morning.It’s a four-hour drive from Nashville to Cincinnati.He came because you needed him here.He’s here to help, and we need that help, baby.”
She didn’t answer, just turned her face toward the window where the early morning sunlight streamed through the half-closed blinds.She’d been awakened early for blood work and had yet to go back to sleep.The silence between us stretched, filled only by the beeping machines and the muffled sounds of the hospital beyond the door.
I heard them before I saw them.Heavy footsteps in the hallway, multiple sets, moving with purpose.My head snapped toward the door, my heart hammering so hard I felt dizzy.Brynn heard it too; her body tensed under the thin blanket.
The phlebotomist had left the door to the room open so we saw him the second he stepped in front of the doorway.Suddenly the room felt incredibly small.
The man, Rhys, standing there looking at us, was taller and broader than I remembered.Gone was the lean, scholarly-looking man with wire-rimmed glasses and an easy smile.This man was solid muscle under a black T-shirt, his arms covered in tattoos that disappeared beneath his sleeves.His hair was shorter, his jaw harder, his eyes still that piercing blue but now surrounded by lines that hadn’t been there before.He wore a short beard but tattoos peeked through, climbing his face and ears and across his forehead.His eyes, so like Brynn’s, were surrounded by inky black scleras instead of white.
And the leather cut he wore, emblazoned with the Kiss of Death MC patches, made my breath catch.This wasn’t just a style choice.This was his life now.
Behind him stood two other men, both wearing similar cuts, both looking like they could bench-press a car.One had a shaved head and a full beard.The other had a buzz cut with a shorter beard.
And there, stepping out from behind Knight, was a woman I recognized immediately as Ada.She’d grown up beautifully, her chestnut hair and those distinctive eyes marking her as Knight’s sister.She gave me a small, tearful smile.
“Lavender,” Knight said, and his voice hadn’t changed at all.Deep, with that slight roughness that had always made my skin tingle.
“Rhys.”I swallowed hard.I had to fight to keep my tears at bay.Despite the changes in his appearance, this was the man I’d fallen in love with.
His gaze softened marginally, a silent acknowledgment passing between us.“They call me Knight now.But you can call me Rhys if you’re more comfortable.”Then his gaze moved past me to the bed, and I watched something powerful wash over his face.Wonder, fear, recognition, and determination all warred for dominance.
“Brynn,” he said, her name a reverent whisper on his lips.
I turned to see my daughter’s reaction.She’d pushed herself up to a sitting position, her thin arms supporting her weight, her face a mask of defiance despite the dark circles under her eyes.She stared at Knight with naked hostility, but I could see the curiosity there too, the hunger for connection she would never admit to.
“So you’re the sperm donor,” she said coldly.
I winced.“Brynn, please.”
Knight didn’t flinch.He stepped forward, moving with a controlled grace that spoke of someone always aware of when someone was on edge.It made sense.The two men behind him remained at the door, facing away from us like sentinels.
“I’m Knight,” he said, stopping a respectful distance from the bed.“And yeah, I’m your father.”
Brynn’s eyes narrowed.“Took you long enough.”
“Brynn,” I started again, but Knight held up a hand.
“It’s OK,” he said to me, then turned back to Brynn.“You’re right.It did.And I’m sorry for that.But I’m here now, and I’m here to help however I can.”
“Knight, we’ll be down in the cafeteria.Text if you need us.”
“Thanks, Jag.Appreciate you and Knuckles coming along.”
The men departed.Knight pulled the door shut and receding heavy footfalls signaled everyone’s departure.Ada hovered near the door as Rhys shifted his stance, reminding me he watched over us.Ada stepped forward then, her eyes soft as she looked at Brynn.
“Hi, Brynn.I’m Ada.Your aunt.”She smiled, and it transformed her face.“I’ve been hoping to meet you for a long time.”
Brynn blinked, momentarily thrown by Ada’s warmth.“You knew about me?”
Ada shook her head.“Not for sure until very recently.But I suspected.Besides, I’ve always wanted a niece.”She glanced at Knight.“Your dad called me as soon as he found out about you.”
Brynn’s mouth twisted.“He’s not my dad.He’s just some guy who happened to knock up my mom.”
The words were meant to wound, and I saw the hit land in the tightening of Knight’s jaw.But he didn’t lash out.Instead, he pulled up a chair and sat, putting himself at Brynn’s eye level rather than towering over her.
