Page 46 of Red Flag Bull

To say I’m angry with myself would be an understatement. I’m fucking livid.

How did I not go to the ends of the earth, to see her one more time? I would have known, then. Seen that she needed me, despite my imperfections. I would never have given her up if I thought I was what was best for her.

How could she ever forgive me? No wonder it took her twenty fucking years to seek me out.

How in the world do I make this up to her?

I press my forehead to her soft lower belly and squeeze my eyes shut tight against the threatening tears. “Boy or girl?”

“Boy.” The word is so quiet and strained, I can hear the difficulty it took for her to say it.

My fingers curl into fists, and I look up at her face. “Did you get to see him? Touch him?”

“He was perfect.” She closes her eyes. “I got to hold him. He stopped crying when I did, and I felt so much love for him, Jason. I can’t even describe it. He was so tiny.” She sniffs softly, as tears stream down her cheeks. “They let me feed him.” Her hand trembles when she lightly sweeps it over my hair again. “I didn’t know it would only be the one time.”

She breaks, and I catch her as she collapses. I fold the blanket snugly around her, collect her into my arms, and carry her over to the fireplace, to sit in my lap. “When you’re ready, I want to hear everything.” I press my lips to her ear and stroke her shuddering back. “All twenty years of it.”

“Nineteen,” she whispers, brushing her fingertips over my scars.

“Feels like more,” I whisper back, kissing her soft hair. “I’m so sorry it wasn’t less. I never stopped loving you. Everything I am, have, and do, is with you in mind. I wanted to be better, so you’d come home to me. I didn’t think for a second that maybe you wanted to and couldn’t. That they’d locked you up and stolen our fucking life away.”

Her sobs grow thicker, and she turns into my chest.

“I’ll find him,” I promise, pulling her closer. “Make sure he’s okay. I’m going to need details. Names. Addresses. Anything you can remember about your time in that place. Your mom’s current whereabouts. She and I are going to have a serious chat. How long did she keep you there, Princess? Why didn’t you come to me after they…?”

She sniffs and shudders and wipes at her face before snuggling back in against my chest. “I wasn’t well,” she says, before her voice cracks.

I hold her with all the love I have and soothe her as best I can before I ask for more. “Tell me.”

“Mentally,” she utters so quietly, I can barely hear — like it’s the most shameful confession she’s ever made.

“As would be expected when your fucking bitch-cow-whore mother locks you away and steals your baby,” I growl through my teeth.

Mandi hunches smaller, and I immediately regret spilling my rage so close to her. I rein it in and strap it down hard. “I’m not angry at you, Princess. Sorry if it sounded that way.”

She pushes herself back, until she can see my face, and her eyes are so fucking sad, I want to kill people three times worse. Her eyebrows knit together, as she searches my face. “You’re going to hurt them.”

It’s not a question. It’s a resounding truth.

“Are you going to tell me not to?” I ask. “That there’s someone I should go easy on, because they felt guilty for their crimes and went out of their way to show you kindness and help you?”

She stares at me blankly. “There was nobody like that.”

“Then they will all suffer,” I say frankly.

Her lips twitch at one side, and she settles back against me. “Okay.”

“Okay.” I kiss her head. “How long did they keep you there?”

“Six years,” she says with a sigh. “It took that long for them to rehabilitate me.” She snorts softly. “I was buried so deep inside, I barely remembered who I was by then. They’d filled my head with who I should be, until I was brainwashed enough to actually believe them. All that was left of me was my desire to leave, so I did whatever it took.”

“Six years.” I exhale long and roughly. “And the other thirteen?”

Mandi lowers her head. “Drinking. Drugs. Rehab. Psych wards. Anywhere Mom and Dad could keep me, so I wouldn’t bother them with my problems. If they weren’t disappointed in me before, they sure were by the time I got my shit together and tried to forgive the past and make amends.”

“Why the fuck would you want to forgive those assholes?” I snarl.

She gives me another flat stare. “For my own sanity and recovery.”

---