Page 14 of Devil’s Torture

That must be why I don’t notice when I pull into the driveway at home and am completely shocked when I step out and see a bike with Rune standing next to it. Again.

Without thinking about it, I bite out, “How the hell did you get my address?”

One side of his mouth quirks up in something which might be a smile for the new version of the man standing in front of me. A version I don’t know. A version I’m not sure I want to know.

“Lucifer gave it to me.”

He says it so simply, but it feels like a bucket of ice water being poured over my head. Knowing that the club has kept an eye on me, even if only a tentative one, is one thing. Hearing the truth of it so casually is another.

“I don’t have anything to do with your club,” I grind the words out.

“Yes, I was informed of that,” his tone is flat, but I can hear the censure underneath. The disappointment.

He can shove that disappointment up his ass for all I care. My lip curls slightly without me even realizing it.

Just as Rune starts to raise his hands and his eyes start to soften into the look which was always able to calm me down, the back door of the car swings open on the other side. Dawn steps out and immediately reaches back in to grab her backpack.

Her voice is casual, almost absent, “Mom, can we make French bread pizzas tonight? You don’t want the loaf going moldy again.”

The teasing in her voice, the ease of it all, has my eyes sliding closed. Until Rune lets out a muffled sound filled with surprise and pain.

When Dawn hears it, she looks up, her eyebrows already pulled together in confusion. Then her face smooths out and my stomach drops.

I look at Rune and the shock on his face as he takes in his daughter for the first time has tears burning the backs of my eyes. Damn it. It’s impossible to stop them from falling.

As he looks between me and Dawn, his movements slow. I can almost see the way he’s piecing it together in his mind. He looks at his daughter for a long time.

The same chin. His.

The same eyes. His.

The shape of her face. Mine.

The shape of her nose. Mine.

He catalogues it all. And time continues to stretch. As if it has no meaning. As if the next breath won’t cost us both something.

Slowly his face turns back to me and there are so many questions written all over his features. I recognize them. Because I’ve been holding this secret in my soul since the day I found out I was pregnant and realized I couldn’t tell him, and I’ve pictured this moment a million times.

I wasn’t going to march into the clubhouse and tell Lucifer. No, thank you. Honestly, I was too mad to do it and too sad to try.

What would saying it have changed? Would the man in front of me have magically appeared? Would I have gotten answers?

I think I was more afraid that it still wouldn’t happen. That he’d still stay away.

My heart couldn’t take that possibility. I was too much of a coward to find out which way it would go.

“Mom,” Dawn’s voice is questioning, but there’s a certainty in it which has Rune looking toward her, “isn’t he my dad?”

My eyes slide closed and I tilt my head back toward the sky. I never hid anything from her.

It’s not like I could really answer all her questions, but why would I construct some story when the truth is better? He never knew about her, I never hid that either. I just couldn’t tell her whether it would have made a difference or not because I don’t know.

I don’t look away from Rune when I open my eyes and look back at him. His blue eyes are begging me for the truth.

“Yes.”

He stumbles even though he’s standing still. It’s the physical impact of one word slamming into him.