Never Tied Down (The Never Duet #2)(56)

Kalli,

I know you’re going through a lot, but I can’t sit by anymore not knowing if you’re all right. Please, call me. 619-555-8652.

Sincerely,

Kevin



I read that particular note over and over again, wondering why he’d been able to go for more than twenty years without knowing if I was okay, but all of a sudden he’d been desperate for information. I closed my eyes, tossed the card on the floor, pulled up my knees, and rolled to my side. It wasn’t even a full second before Riot’s firm warm body was behind mine, cocooning me, his arms wrapping tightly around me.

“He can’t ignore me for most of my life and then decide, all of a sudden, to care,” I whispered. “It’s not fair.” A different sort of panic was coming over me. I wasn’t anxious, but I could feel the eruption of emotion coming and anticipating it was causing just as much panic.

“I know, baby,” he whispered into my ear. But he didn’t. His parents had been there from the start. Both of them. He’d never had to wonder why his father didn’t love him enough to stick around. Never had to spend nights in bed thinking about the fact that his father felt tied down by him, felt like he wasn’t free anymore. Suddenly, it was all too much.

A strangled sob broke free from me, and I cried out. Again, in less than a second, Riot had turned me so I faced him, and his arms brought me close, holding me to him, allowing me to cry into his chest. I didn’t need him to understand my pain, I only needed him to be there for me. That’s all I’d ever need from him, just his presence. That was also the one thing I was afraid to lose the most. I’d always been afraid I was broken like my father. Afraid that no matter what, I’d never be able to stick around for someone I loved. Afraid I’d fall in love, maybe even have a child, and then realize I wasn’t built to love that way.

But I knew, so very deep down on the inside, I’d never leave Riot, and I couldn’t imagine ever not being there for our future children. That realization, that level of love I had for Riot, only made the lack of love my father had for me hurt all that much more. Every soft touch of Riot’s hand, every tiny display of physical affection, made me wonder why my father hadn’t loved me enough.

As best I could, I’d dealt with my father’s absence when I was younger. I’d spent countless nights wondering where he was, who he was with, what kind of life he was leading that was better than the one he’d had with my mother and me. Growing up without a father sucked. It scarred me on a level no one would ever understand. But the scar was leftover from a wound that had healed. I had lived, Mom and I had moved on, and we’d managed to build a pretty good life. Kevin coming to me years later and trying to make contact with me, well, that was just the same as opening up old wounds. He’d lost all rights to know how I was doing on my seventh birthday when he’d left and not looked back.

“I don’t know what to do with all these feelings,” I cried, completely lost in what seemed to be a bottomless pit of anger, fear, sadness, and loss.

“Just cry it out, Kal. Give them to me. I’ll take care of it.”

If I hadn’t already been sobbing, his words would have thrown me over into the abyss. There had been a time in my life where I’d convinced myself I didn’t deserve the kind of love Riot gave me. I’d told myself I wasn’t worthy of that kind of selfless, all-encompassing love. And perhaps I wasn’t. Maybe that was the secret to it all. If I knew I was lucky to have him, maybe I’d never take him for granted. I never wanted him to feel anything like what I was experiencing in that moment. I never wanted him to wonder why I hadn’t cared enough about him.

Suddenly, and maybe it was the lack of love from my father staring me in the face, but my love for Riot had never been clearer to me or more tangible. It filled the hole that had been gaping most of my life.

“I love you,” I cried into the stubble under his chin, my hands coming to pull his neck closer to me, wanting to smell his scent, feel his heartbeat through the thin skin there. The panic was still there, but now I was panicking that I’d never be able to show him how I loved him, to apologize for pushing him away like I had. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

I was exactly like my dad. I had run away. I had left him behind. It had been months, not years, and I hadn’t abandoned a child, but I’d let Riot love me, then I’d taken that love away. I was just as bad as Kevin.

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, baby,” he said quietly, rocking me back and forth, his hand running down the back of my head, smoothing down my hair.

“I’m just like him.”

My face was quickly brought level with his, his eyes searching mine, his hands gripping my face with gentle fierceness.

“You are nothing like him, Kalli,” he said in a deep, gravelly voice. “I never want to hear you say something like that again. He’s a coward. A man who abandoned his child and the woman who gave him that child. He was selfish and a poor excuse for a man.” His eyes grew darker, darting back and forth between mine. “He left because he didn’t want to take responsibility for his family. You are nothing like him.”

I couldn’t respond, couldn’t find any words to argue with him, even though I was sure he was wrong. He had to be. I was a runner.

“You’ve spent the last chunk of your life caring for your brother, the most selfless thing I’ve ever witnessed. And you didn’t leave me, Kal. I know that’s what you’re thinking.” He pressed his mouth to my forehead. “People respond to grief in a million different ways and your reaction was perfectly acceptable. You’ll never have to apologize to me for that. What your father did was inexcusable.”