Page 76 of Reclaim Me

“Good. Good,” he says, and even though it’s been years since I’ve laid eyes on him in person, I can see the curt jerk of his chin as he nods his approval in my head. Usually, I’m annoyed by this point in our monthly call, when it’s more of an inquisition than conversation, and everything, from the sharp, clipped tone he uses to the silences that follow, reminds me of our dad. Nicholas Drake.

Cal and I never talk about him, so he doesn’t know how much I hate the way he reminds me of him, the way their similarities make me think of all the times growing up when he would demand that I be more like Cal. How those comparisons made me feel worse when I was already at my lowest, and made it easier for me to convince myself to use.

None of that is Cal’s fault, though, so I try not to take it out on him. Besides, I’m sure he’s got his own trauma surrounding our dad to deal with.

“How are you doing?” I ask him, feeling a little more patient with him than usual.

He clears his throat, surprised by the question. Usually, I don’t ask because I don’t expect him to share, but today, I’ve decided to take the chance, and he seems appreciative. “I’m good. Work has been hectic.”

I don’t bother asking for details because I know he won’t give them; being a special agent in the Federal Bureau of Investigation for almost twenty years has made him incredibly secretive, and making the move to the Secret Service has only made it worse. The one and only time I got details about his work was some years ago when he and his partner, Lance Beckham, headed up a task force that took down some white supremacist group plotting to kill the President, and that was only because it was all over the news.

“How’s Beck?”

“He’s good.”

Closing the grill, I turn my attention to the pool where Riley is trying to coax her mom up onto one of the huge floats Taurin, and I blew up earlier today. Rae doesn’t look convinced that the oversized swan can hold her, but she tries anyway, giggling as she tries to climb aboard. If she wasn’t laughing, and I mean hard down, cracking up, she’d probably be able to get a better grip, but since she can’t seem to control herself, she ends up slipping off of the float and taking Riley down with her. They scream loudly and then come up for air, sputtering water and grinning.

“What was that?” Cal asks; those fucking Secret Service agent ears trained to hear everything. I didn’t tell him I had company because I didn’t want to tell him about Riley and run the risk of him tainting the situation with his doubts about my ability to be a father. “Hunter, you good?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” I push the words out past the lump of fear in my throat, knowing that if I don’t give him further details, he’ll probably have a drone flying over the property in a matter of minutes. “That was just Rae and Riley you heard screaming. They’re in the pool, and one of the floats flipped over.”

“Rae? Your ex-girlfriend, Rae?”

The qualification burns, but I don’t correct him because it’s not like it’s wrong. “Yeah, that Rae.”

“And Riley is…?”

I bite my lip, pride swelling in my chest. “Our daughter.”

“You have a daughter?” There’s no mistaking the incredulity in my brother’s voice, but I’m surprised that I don’t hear disapproval. “Since when do you have a daughter?”

Blowing out a breath of relief, I launch into the full story, telling him everything about how I came to learn that the most perfect kid on Earth belongs to me.

“Wow, Hunter.” Cal sighs. “That’s a lot. How are you doing with all of that?”

“I’m good,” I tell him. “I’m really good, happier than I’ve been in a long time.”

As I look across the yard at the two lights of my life, paddling around on the float they just capsized mere moments ago, I realize that it’s true.

27

RAE

Now

It’s after eleven o’clock when we finally settle in for the night. Hunter cleaned up the kitchen and washed all of our swimming gear in preparation for another day in the pool, per Riley’s request, while I got Riley in the bath and bed in record time. After getting her straight, I took my time getting myself together, opting to use the hallway bathroom instead of the one in Hunter’s room because my heart started to race at the thought of going in there, and now I’m staring at myself in the mirror wondering what the protocol is from here.

Do I just go to bed without saying goodnight?

Do I go back downstairs and…hang out with Hunter?

Do I climb into bed with Riley and hope he has the good sense not to come looking for me?

I don’t know.

The first and third options seem rude, especially after such a lovely evening, but the second option feels wrong. Like I’m inviting trouble inside after flirting with it on my doorstep all day. Sighing, I pick up my phone and shoot a quick message to the group chat I have with Jayla and Dee, hoping that one of them will respond. It’s a long shot since they both go to bed before the sun sets, but I have to try. After five minutes of nothing but radio silence from them, I’m left with no choice but to make a decision on my own.

And by decision, I mean leave the bathroom and go wherever my feet take me, which is to the stairs that lead back to the first floor. The lights are still on down there, and I can hear the faint sound of the dryer turning, so I know Hunter is still up. I creep down the stairs, not wanting the creaking of the old wood to wake Riley, and breathe a sigh of relief when muscle memory from all the months of sneaking around to keep our relationship a secret from Will allows me to dodge the loudest one.

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