Page 103 of Bossy Hero

Her face pops into my memory, as vividly as the day I left her crying in the corner booth at the bar near base. The same one I met her in when she was singing like a fucking angel.

“Abby. Holy shit. Why the fuck didn’t she tell me about her? She wasn’t the type to?—”

Tomer interrupts my rambling. “She died from complications a few days after having Lettie.”

Oxygen clogs in my throat as my heart jumps in the way.

As if I needed more shit to deal with today, grief clouds my vision.

Abby went through the entire pregnancy on her own. She must have been terrified. But she fortunately had a healthy baby girl, who grew into a beautiful woman.

Tragically, Abby didn’t get to see any of it.

Neither did I.

Did she try to get a hold of me?

It’s possible. I wasn’t in the country, and there was no way for her to contact me while I was on thatmission since she wasn’t family.

My entire body goes slack as the implications begin to swirl through my mind. “Fuck.”

Abby died not knowing how happy I’d have been. How devoted I’d have been to raising our child with her. Even if we didn’t get married, I’d have never shirked my responsibilities.

Between two particularly rough missions, I was in a turbulent spot mentally. However, I’d have been there for her. For them both.

And Abby died never knowing that.

Sounding like he’s at the end of a tunnel, Tomer rattles through an explanation of Georgia law at the time and how Abby’s parents adopted my daughter.

They never contacted me.

Never told me I had a baby. My own flesh and blood who needed me.

And those fuckers damn well knew who I was and could’ve found me when my deployment ended. I had dinner at their table, for fuck’s sake. They knew my name and rank. The car I drove. Where I was from. Who my parents were. All things they demanded to know before permitting me to take Abby to dinner.

Colorful memories of theirinterrogationpass through my consciousness.

Judgmental pricks.

Even though I came from money, they didn’t like me. Nor my profession. And especially not my lack of religious devotion. Nothing about me was good enough.

Eventually, Abby convinced them to give me a chance to earn their trust.

Tomer’s voice returns to the forefront of my consciousness. “The official birth certificate listed them as parents. Lettie had no idea about you until recently.”

“Shit.”

Tension pulses through me, resentment settling into my sore muscles. I dig my fingers into my nape, trying to massage away the ache.

But that’s impossible.

This pain is here to stay.

The Holts should’ve told me I had a daughter who needed me, but theychoseto hide her from me. There’s no other way to slice it. They made a fucking choice.

I can only hope my daughter didn’t suffer because of it.

“It gets worse,” Tomer drawls. “She was raised believing they were her real parents. When her grandfather was dying of cancer a little over a year ago, he confessed they were her grandparents. In that conversation, he told her you were KIA.”

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