Fighting Redemption(69)

“Finlay,” her father called out, his voice firm and loud.

Fin spun around, seeing him stalk towards her. “What?” she replied tersely.

“Don’t you take that tone with me, miss. I know you’re upset but—”

“Upset? I’m more than upset!” she yelled, cutting him off as she rummaged through her bag. Finding the photo that had been tucked so carefully in her purse, she ripped it out and thrust it at him.

He took it, frowning at her before looking down at the photo. Her chest rose and fell rapidly while she waited for her father to speak, her body growing tenser by the second.

“That sonofabitch,” he eventually growled, his nostrils flaring wide as comprehension dawned in his eyes. Peeling his eyes from the photo, they flickered to her belly before lifting to her face. “He ended a relationship with my daughter when she’s having his baby? I had nothing but respect and love for that boy, but this …” Her father started to crumple the photo in his hand, cursing loudly.

“Dad! That wasn’t how it happened.”

He pointed at her, fire in his eyes. “You’re defending him now? He has a lot to goddamn answer for.”

Seeing her father’s anger made her own deflate. She didn’t like seeing him assume the worst. Not of Ryan. “He didn’t know, Dad. I didn’t know, not until this morning. I tried to get here in time to tell him, but I was too late.”

“Shit.” Her father rubbed his jaw, expelling a heavy sigh as his shoulders slumped. “I hear you, love. I shouldn’t have thought the worst. It’s just … you’re my little girl.”

“Well I won’t be little for much longer,” she tried to joke but her heart wasn’t in it.

He pulled her close for a hug. “You’ll always be my little girl.”

Fin took a deep breath. “Thanks, Dad.”

“It’s going to be hard for both of you, being apart for this.”

“I know. Maybe it’s not such a good idea to tell him about the baby right now.”

Letting go, he looked down at her, his expression stern. “You need to tell him.”

Fin leaned up against the car and looked at her dad. “Do you remember the day I found that dead bird in the yard?”

She’d been almost ten when she’d stumbled upon the pretty rosella, its colourful feathers fluttering wildly across the lawn and into the sky. Seeing something so carefree and beautiful so sad and lifeless was the first time she’d ever felt a crack in her heart. Hearing a noise, Fin had spun around and shielding her eyes against the sun, looked up. Slingshot in hand, she caught Jake slamming his window shut.

“Remember how I shouted for you and you came out and took care of it?”

She’d watched for a brief moment—her wounded heart satisfied her father was doing the right thing when he cradled the bird gently in his hand—before storming inside and up the stairs.

Reaching Jake’s room, she’d flung open the door. Both Jake and Ryan jerked as it banged loudly against the wall.

“How could you?” she shrieked at Jake, balling her small fists with fury. “That little bird did nothing to you, you big stupid jerk!”

Jake paled. She’d never seen him so pale, and it threw her anger off course. Pushing his way past her and out of his room, she heard the bathroom door slam. When the muffled sound of retching filtered down the hall, Fin met Ryan’s eyes.

“What’s going on in here?” her father said, the sharp tone of warning evident in his voice.

“Mike.” Ryan swallowed visibly and grabbed the slingshot off the desk. “Sir. I was just uh … I didn’t really think I’d hit it, the bird that is. I’m s-sorry.”

Ryan flinched when her dad strode into the room and held out his hand, indicating for Ryan to give him the slingshot. At the time, she didn’t understand the flinch, or the fear in Ryan’s dark eyes, but looking back now made it clear.

“Ryan never killed that bird, Dad. It was Jake. I saw him from the window. I didn’t understand why Ryan took the blame, but I can see now. He was protecting Jake from you. He thought you would lay into Jake for what he did.”

Her dad frowned. “I would never—”

“I know that,” she cut him off. “But don’t you see? Ryan’s always protecting everyone else and putting them before himself. Even as a kid. He’ll take the blame for this; for me not being able to do the research program and having this baby when he can’t be there for us. I can’t let him do that. I can’t let him be distracted when he needs to focus. He has to come home safe, Dad. I couldn’t bear it if …” Her throat constricted and her father took her hand and squeezed.

“You’re right, love. It’s possible Ryan will take the blame, but you have to trust that he knows what he’s doing over there. He’s going to be a father. No matter what happens, I think he deserves to know that, don’t you?”

“I need to think,” Fin admitted. “I’m all over the place right now.”

“Don’t think too hard. You might hurt yourself.”

“Dad!” Her lips curved at her father’s attempt to lighten the situation. “That was a lame joke.”

“Hey. I’m going to be a Grandpa. Lame jokes are my job.” Her father smiled down at her, and his eyes sparked with a light that had been missing for too long.