Page 4 of Who We Were

Fucking Stephanie Rose.Well, shit, I guess I did fuck her, didn't I?

Amaya's mother, Stephanie, and I met at a bar when we were in our early twenties. She was a short little firecracker that oozed confidence. That woman had me by the balls the first time we locked eyes.

God, what has she told our daughter about me?

My knee bounces anxiously as I wait for the entrance doors to open. The air conditioning has been blasting for the past six hours it took me to get here, yet my hands leave sweaty prints on the steering wheel.

I'm in the middle of debating whether I should go inside and disregard their orders for me to wait outside when a girl storms out of the building. Rage and sorrow are etched into her features. I'm out of the car faster than I can even register the burning need to protect her. She's mine. I can see it in her wavy long brown hair so similar to my own.

Amaya.

The closer I get to the emotional girl the more I notice. Obviously I knew she was an omega, but I'm surprised to see how short she is compared to my tall six-foot-seven frame. My height is normal for an alpha, but I would say she is even shorter for an omega.

Like her mother. The goddamn mother whosold her.Who never fucking told me I had a little girl. I can't imagine what Amaya must think of me. Fingers crossed it's not as bad as she feels about Stephanie. That bitch can rot in jail for all eternity for what she did to Amaya.

Helping convict the parents who sold their omega children to the academy will go down as one of my greatest achievements. I just can't believe I had met one of those scumbags. Let alone impregnated one.

I barely notice the other girl following my kid across the sidewalk when Amaya's scent slams into me full force.Lavender and a crisp spring morning.Swirled with my fresh winter scent, it solidifies what I already knew.

Amaya Rose is my daughter.

"What's there to say?Hi, I'm the daughter you never gave a shit about. Sorry I'm so fucking damaged you now have to babysit a twenty-two-year-old so she doesn't kill herself?"

The single bachelor in me implodes at Amaya's alarming words. The lawyer with no family ceases to exist. What I become with Amaya's revelation is someone I never thought I would be capable of.

A father. One who would do anything for the girl standing in front of me. The woman, actually, because I missed twenty-two years of her life. No longer is Amaya the little girl I wish I would have had the privilege of loving. In her place is a woman who just shouted her trauma for the whole world to hear.

She wouldn't kill herself, would she?

My voice cracks on the first words I have ever spoken to her. "Amaya? Is that you, darling?"

The endearment slips out on accident, and I'm stuck praying like hell it doesn't freak her out.

I'll never forget the way Amaya's body stiffens and retreats from me, almost like she's trying to make herself as small as possible. The angry omega from before is no longer. What's left behind in the wake of her outburst is someone who has been abused for far too fucking long.

It takes a considerable amount of effort to hold my growl at bay and keep from reaching for Amaya. The urge to wrap my arms around her tiny frame and shield her from the world makes my skin itch and my throat bob with indescribable emotion.

Is this what having a kid is like?Overpowering protective instincts while grappling with the knowledge that they most likely don't want that from you.

WhatdoesAmaya want?

"You must be Paul. I'm Kate."

I take my eyes off Amaya for a second to confirm what her friend had said. I nod at her and return my attention to Amaya. "Can I take your bag, Maya?"

A pained wheeze spills from her wobbling lips, almost like she's trying to smother a whine. "That's not my name," she mutters without looking at me.

"Ah yes. Amaya here will reject any nickname you try to give her," the other omega says with a snort of laughter.

My gut twists at the realization that I already fucked up. Christ, I've been fucking up for twenty-two years now, actually. "I'm so sorry, Amaya. I didn't mean anything by it."

Her golden-brown eyes flick up to me for a brief moment that leaves me suspended in time. Golden brown orbs that hold so much goddamn depth I feel like I might drown. What breaks me even more is the fact that they might as well be an exact replica of my own eyes, yet mine don't hold a fucking fraction of the pain and weight hers do.

"It's fine. Let's just go," she mutters dejectedly.

My heart beats erratically as she all but runs past me to the car, not even saying bye to her friend.

Kate cups her hands over her mouth and shouts, "I'll be in touch!"

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