Page 71 of The Grand Rise

“I could be even slower and go tell your mum about Mingo.”

Her eyes widen, hurt painting her face. “You can’t!”

I smile wide and tip my chin. “Go find some worms, Scamp. I’m coming.”

She bolts out the door, her grin full and perfect. I stare after her, listening as her feet echo faintly across the terrace.

I eventually look back at Mason, his focus already on me.

He holds out his hand. I stare down at it suspiciously before taking it. And then he pulls me in for a hug. “Thank you, Lance. For everything.”

My brows lift, not expecting it from him.

I pull back, squeezing his shoulder in response. “I’m glad you’re here,” I tell him, stepping around him and out the door.

It’s still early when I make my way up the stairs to my bedroom. My leg is throbbing, a sick feeling sitting heavy in my gut. I did too much today. Scarlet told me more than once to put my leg up, but I didn’t, too afraid I’d miss something.

I fall heavy onto the bed, pulling a pillow from behind my head and wedging it under my leg. The second my leg settles, I close my eyes, the pain only getting worse as I finally relax it.

“Shit.”

I’m not due any more painkillers for another two hours.

I scrub at my face and rest back against the headboard, willing my brain to take me somewhere else, away from the burning sensation in my leg.

I think about my mum and the fact she knows who Waverley is.

That was a shock to me.

Why do I care so much about her still?

She didn’t call.

Not once.

If there was a switch, I’d flick it. Without hesitation.

I thought time might change things. That maybe she’d need me one day and want to see me. But I’ve been out of prison for weeks, and there’s not been a peep from her or the girls.

“Daddy?”

My eyes flicker open. I lift my head, smiling when I find Waverley standing at the end of my bed. Bear follows behind, knocking her hand for attention. “I thought you were supposed to be going to sleep,” I ask.

“I am. I brushed my teeth and gave Mummy a cuddle and kiss.” She looks around my room and then back to me. “Can I give you a cuddle good night, too?”

My child—this beautiful, smart, sweet girl—will never know what it is, how much it aches, to not know the feel of her mother’s arms. Of my arms.

Because I already know I’m going to spend the rest of my life giving her everything I never had.

I tip my chin for her to come closer. As she nears the side of the bed, I lift her, grunting as I pull her to lie on the mattress next to me. She snuggles into my side, her arm wrapping around my waist.

Bear hops up on the other side, huffing as he curls up at her feet.

“I used to wonder what your cuddles would be like,” she says, voice tired. “I thought they’d be like Uncle Mason’s.”

Every bit of pain in my body is worth it. Just for this one moment.

“Are they?” I ask, making sure to hold her a little tighter. I dip my nose to her hair, inhaling the smell of her coconut shampoo.

---