Blaize listened. Truly listened. He didn’t try to fix things, like guys she’d dated. And because of that, she felt seen.
“Would you ever want to reach out to see if anything has changed between the two of you?” he asked. “No pressure. I’m just curious.”
“I’ve thought about it. A lot of time has passed. More than six years.” She took a bite of hamburger and chewed. “I’m not ready yet to handle the disappointment if he didn’t change. The last thing I want is to reopen an old wound just to throw salt in it. You know? Does that make sense?”
“Sure, it does. You would want to have a relationship if he has changed and grown over the years, but sometimes not knowing is better than suffering more disappointment.”
“That’s it exactly. What if he remarried and has another family? What if he rejects me and doesn’t have a new family? What if he just doesn’t care what happens to me?”
Blaize nodded.
They settled into eating and polishing off his second and her first cup of coffee.
“What will your work do when they find out you didn’t take Rue to the orphanage?” he asked as he stacked plates on the rollaway tray.
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“What happens between now and Monday morning.”
“Then let’s make sure you don’t lose your job over helping an innocent baby,” he said with the kind of finality that made her believe him. “I’ll just be a minute while I get dressed.”
“I’ll scoot the cart into the hallway now that we’re finished.”
He reached for her hand, stopped her from moving the cart. “Might be safer to leave it inside while we get ready. The less we open and close doors, the better.”
“Do you think someone followed us?”
“I’d rather not find out the hard way. I didn’t tell Thomas my name, and I paid with cash at the first bar on purpose. Still. Taking a chance doesn’t seem like the right play here.”
He was right. Of course he was. For a moment, she felt imprisoned again. Beyond her father’s tight grip, she’d endured everything from being locked in closets by babysitters to being threatened within an inch of her life if she “ratted” out the ones having sex on her father’s bed or drinking to the point of passing out while he had to be away on business.
From a young age, Carys understood the fact that her father’s job kept food on the table. He worked long hours balancing the finances so he could pay his workers while keeping a roof over her head. She caught glimpses of him looking run down—and an emotion that looked a whole lot like guilt—but he always put up a strong front when she was in the room. Telling him about the babysitters would have only added to his stress. Besides, she’d learned to keep emergency supplies in the form of a flashlight, book, and a chocolate bar in a couple of the closets just to be safe and stave off boredom.
As much as she shouldn’t care about anyone else rubber-stamping her life decisions, her relationship with her father was tricky. The urge to make him proud constantly warred with her need to prove her independence, causing a ton of friction in her high school years.
Families and relationships were complicated. No one knew that better than Blaize.
Shake it off.
Mentally, she had to readjust. This was not the past. She was free to go wherever she wanted to go and do whatever she wanted to do. Her father still lived near Austin as far as she knew.
Carys, of all people, knew what it was like to be trapped by someone hell-bent on controlling her and being surrounded by people who carried out that person’s bidding.
Is this how you felt, Sharon?
Chapter Seventeen
A simple spit test was all it would take to prove Blaize wasn’t Rue’s father. So why couldn’t he bring himself to stop by a pharmacy and pick up a test? It was more than Rue’s safety he was concerned about.
Taking the test meant closing the door on being the one legally allowed to raise her. Could he see himself as a single father? What about the ranch? Kit? Was there any way possible to fit all the pieces together and be a family?
And what about this Stephanie/Sharon person. His mind was all over the place. One part said she died in the crash and they were awaiting confirmation. Another part said she went into hiding and faked her death. Yet another part wondered if she’d gone into Witness Protection. Or did she simply disappear once she learned about the crash?
Creating a fake identity was possible with computers.
What about Thomas? He seemed like a good person. Could he be trusted? He’d said his uncle was connected to Stephanie/Sharon. How? Why?
