Page 32 of Her Gentle Daddy

“Daddy,” she said softly.

Sean looked down at her with such painful intensity that she winced.

“I’m okay, Daddy.”

He sighed heavily and blinked as though he was seeing her again.

“Gabby, I’m so sorry you went through that. I’m so sorry, my baby girl. I wish I could have protected you back then.”

“You are protecting me now.”

“What happened to the guy who did that to you?”

“He went to prison. I wasn’t his only victim. It was happening to another one of the fosters that lived in the house at the same time I did.”

“Why were you in foster care in the first place, baby?”

She took a deep breath and rested her head on his chest.

“My mom got pregnant with me while she was on drugs. It’s one of the reasons I’m so small. I never fully developed in her womb because of all the drugs that she was taking. I was taken away from her at birth because there was heroin in my system when I was born.

“She got clean and was able to get me back when I was two, and for several years, things were okay. She was still kind of a mess, but she tried to be a decent mom for a while. I don’t know when exactly, but she started getting back into using drugs and mixing in with her old friends. She was found dead with a heroin needle still in her arm when I was seven.

“After that, I was bounced around from foster home to foster home. I was too old for anyone to be interested in adopting me. I was abused in most of the homes, either physically or sexually, before they would send me back to child protective services, who would then just send me to another horrible home. It always seemed to be the men who lived in the homes that were abusive, either beating me or touching me and then raping me, which is why I am so frightened of men. On the day of my eightieth birthday, I was given fifty bucks and put out of the system. Raff found me after that when I was living on the streets. If it weren’t for him, I would probably be dead.”

Sean held her tightly against him in silence as she spoke, and when she finished, she felt as though she had been freed in some sort of way. She had never told anyone about her past. A tear slipped down his cheek, making her own eyes fill with tears.

“Daddy, I’m okay.”

He wiped the wetness off his face and nodded.

“I will make sure you are always okay, Gabby. I love you, and I will always take care of you as long as you’ll let me. I can’t change your past, but I will make sure you have the happiest and brightest life going forward.”

“It’s okay if you don’t want me anymore after knowing all of that. I know it makes me dirty and icky and fucked up.”

Sean’s eyes widened, “Little girl, nothing would make me not want you. There is nothing dirty, icky, or fucked up about you. You are a fighter, and I am so proud of you for everything you’ve already overcome. I will never let you go, do you understand me?”

His hands held either side of her face so she couldn’t look anywhere else but at him, and she felt the force behind his words. He wasn’t just saying it to say it. He meant every word he was saying to her, and she believed it.

“I understand, Daddy.”

He held her for a long time as they sat in silence. She was exhausted, yet she felt more light and free than she had in her entire life. The only thing she was missing was the reason she had come to Seattle, but even that didn’t seem to weigh heavily on her anymore because she had Sean, and he loved her wholeheartedly.

“Daddy?”

He looked down at her.

“Yes, baby girl?”

“Will you kiss me?”

13

SEAN

His heart shattered as he listened to Gabby tell him about her life growing up. He had known that she must have had a rough life, based on her fears, anxiety, and the way she avoided the topic, but he wasn’t prepared for anything that she had told him.

He wasn’t a violent man, but he had felt a rage inside of him that made him feel capable of murder, and he had to try to control it so he didn’t scare his little girl. He would never understand how someone could abuse a child but knowing it had happened to Gabby made it feel almost unbearable to fathom.

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