Page 55 of Born Chaos

“Every damn day for almost three decades,” Jon Bonny breathes out as more tears force their way down my face.

I don’t hold back. When it comes down to it, and the man is standing right in front of me, I don’t hold back.

I step forward in a rush, and throw my arms around his neck, hugging myself so tight to him, if he were human, I’d probably snap him right in half.

He doesn’t hesitate. His arms wrap around me, and he buries his face in my neck, covering my skin with his tears. He sobs. He doesn’t hold his emotions back as a sob rips from his lips, shaking his entire body. His arms clamp around me in a vice as if promising that he’s never going to let me go again.

I’ve never had family. Over the last eight months, I’ve come to finally know what it means to love people. But I’ve never had family.

But this man is my father.

He releases me just enough to pull me back to get a good look at me. “You look so much like her,” he says. And the agony in his eyes, the hallowed expression of missing someone… It’s so obvious how much he loved my mother.

“Do you know?” I ask, my voice shaking. There’s a pit in my stomach. I don’t want to have to tell him if he doesn’t know. I don’t want to break his heart.

His lower lip trembles. “I had suspected for a long time. If Archer King had been killed, she would have come back. Roman filled me in on the details he knows.”

My eyes flick from Jon to Roman, and back. “Wait, how… how did you find me?”

A small smile pulls on his lips. “I was in Minneapolis. I was headed to the train when I saw your picture on the ground. It was a newspaper from a few weeks ago. The headline talked about some successful doctor who owns his own hospital who’d just gotten engaged to another doctor. But that picture of… There wasn’t a doubt in me.”

Goosebumps flash over my arms. He seems so certain. And he was right.

“Ivana found him in the city an hour ago,” Roman says, his eyes studying Jon. “He was asking about you. Set some warning bells off, so she called me.”

“This guy doesn’t trust anyone, does he?” Jon says with a smirk that looks all too familiar.

“Oh, you should have seen him when he first met me,” I say, and it feels so damn good to laugh. “He basically told me he was going to tear me apart and toss my remains in Lake Michigan if I screwed up.”

“They don’t mess around in Chicago,” Jon chuckles, holding up his right hand. There, fresh, angry, and red, is a rose tattoo.

“You even got a rose tattoo?” I ask in wonder as my eyes rise back up to his.

Jon shakes his head. “I’ve been looking for you for twenty-eight years. I’m not just swinging through Chicago for a few days. If you’re here, I’m staying here, Juliet.”

Tears well in my eyes once more. No one has ever stayed for me, not until I came to Chicago. I’m not a trusting person. People can say whatever they want. But that tattoo on Jon’s hand is permanent. It’s forever.

“He passed the interrogation with flying colors,” Roman says, arching an eyebrow. “He didn’t have anyone chasing after him, looking to kill him. Unlike someone else we know.”

“Asshole,” I call him out, even though a smile is pulling on my lips.

“It’s nice to see you have good friends who are looking out for you,” Jon says, a contented smile on his face as he looks between me and Roman.

I snort. Roman gives this similar noise of amusement.

“No?” Jon questions, raising one eyebrow.

“Let’s just say Roman and I tend to walk this fine line between killing each other and saving each other’s lives.”

“But she hasn’t killed me just yet,” Roman says, giving me this deadpan look, even if there is a smirk pulling on his lips. He picked his words carefully. Because technically, Roman killed me once. When we set a trap for Archer and Roman shot me in the chest.

“Thank you, though,” I offer, my tone turning genuine. “For clearing him. For watching out for me. For bringing him here.”

Roman simply gives a nod. “Would you rather I stick around, or do you want some alone time?”

I still can’t get used to this shift. He’s offering to stay as my back up, to stay for my security and ease of mind. He’s had my back at my very most vulnerable moments.

I look back at Jon, and I don’t even have to think about it. “I think we’re good. Thank you, again.”

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