Page 233 of Deadly Sweet

Jerry, Cobra, Lucy, Duchess. They’re all here. All safe.Good, that's good.

“Savvy, you're scaring us,” Lucy says, her eyes filled with tears. “What happened? What did he do?”

“She’s mine,” I croak, my throat feeling like I’ve swallowed rocks. “She’s mine.”

“Who’s yours?” Duchess asks, brows furrowing.

“She’s mine,” I repeat.

Everything inside me screams that he’s lying, that this is all bullshit. How could something like that be real?

But then, how could my last five years be real?

This was Corbin. He was sick and twisted. It’s sure as shit something he would do.

The more the words play in my mind, the more I feel like they’re true.

There’s been this connection with Athena since day one. I couldn’t be near babies, just the look of them broke me, but with her, all I wanted to do was hold her, love her, and protect her.

I thought it was because she was the daughter of my pack. And that is true to a certain extent. But there was something more, too. There was always something more.

Getting to my feet, I race out the door, ignoring the shouts from behind me.

Like tunnel vision, I have only one thought in mind, and nothing will stop me.

I rush outside, and a few of Duchess’ men ask if I’m okay, but I ignore them and get into the nearest car.

Slamming the door shut, I take off.

The whole ride home, I feel numb like I’m having some sort of out-of-body experience and am dissociating from my mind.

I don’t remember anything about the drive. Pulling the car into the driveway, I don’t even shut the car off, just put it in park and leave the door wide open.

I blink and I’m rushing up the front steps, through the front door, and up the stairs to Athena’s nursery.

She’s alone when I step inside, the soft music of her nightlight noise playing, casting little stars on the roof.

Slowly, I make my way over to her, and as soon as I see her face, this calming feeling blankets me.

“Hi, my sweet baby,” I whisper. Leaning over, I carefully lift her sleeping form into my arms and cradle her to my chest.

Sitting in the rocking chair, I smile down at my sweet girl.

My eyes take in every inch of her little face as I start to hum. Tears fall as I rock my baby girl.

My baby girl. Not a boy. I’ve spent months mourning someone who was never truly gone. I never had a son. I had a daughter.

Even as I say the words in my mind, it feels like I’m mourning for a whole new reason.

I’ve been lied to so much in my life. What is even real anymore?

“I have you, sweetheart. Mama’s got you,” I coo as I rock her back and forth.

“Savannah?” Walker’s voice makes me smile.

“Isn’t she beautiful?” I ask him, keeping my voice low so I don’t wake her up. “She’s so perfect.”

“Savvy, baby, what are you doing here?” Walker asks, stepping into the room.

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