Page 77 of Only for Love

She looks like mine. She looks like the one I want under my arm, her hand in my hand. I want to kiss her, claim her, do so much with her… to her.

“Prettiest girl I know, Ems.” I turn around as she laughs, but I can feel her eyes burning into my back. I walk from her, shoving my phone and fists into my pockets because if I don’t, I will ruin everything this family, this girl, has given me.

Short, haggard breaths steal my attention from my memories. I take both pictures from the mirror and put them in my bag before I turn to face off with a heavy-breathing, probably dying Pops.

Standing up, he looks even worse. His skin is jaundiced. His greasy hair sticks up from his time on the couch. The beater he’s wearing is stained, and his jeans look foul.

He sneers. “That’s my shit. Don’t touch.”

“Right.”Such an asshole.I move to the closet to check for any clothes that might be worth taking.

“Said don’t touch, boy.”

Screw it. I turn to him. “You knew Emma had my baby.”

He laughs. “She tracked you down, too. Little tart showing up here, asking about you—”

Rage fills me. “She what?” I’m blinded by hatred and heartache.

Pops shrugs. “If you were interested in her, ’sume you would’ve told ’er where you were.”

Guilt floods every muscle as my body tenses. I step forward, wanting to take it out on him. “You knew?”

Shrugs again. “Nothing either of us have that’d be good for a Kingsley baby.”

“Iam good for that baby.”

He laughs, and his lungs crackle, full of crap. “Boy, yer not good for shit.”

My hands ball into fists. I’m seconds away from obliterating him. I take another step closer, and a fight he’s wanted his whole life is coming his way.

No.I shudder.Nothis whole life. Only after losing my mother.

My head tilts, and I study his drunk, drugged, sad existence. The truth hits me hard. I’ve always been his burden, but… I’m not his kid.

Randall Ford isn’t my father? The idea rockets in my thoughts, clanging and bouncing over every missed father-son moment, every hatred-filled snipe. Pops doesn’t understand my intense feelings about the time I’ve lost with Cally. He never cared about me… for me. There’s no biological connection like I have with my daughter.

My boiling hatred slows to a simmer as I process our missing genetic connection. “All this time, you never said a word.”

Confusion makes his black eyes cloud. “What da fuck’s yer problem now?”

“But I was the only thing you had left of her.” The realization is mind-blowing. Slowly, I shake my head. Pieces of my life click into place.I’m… not… Randall Ford’s son.“You couldn’t let me go, and you hated that—” And just as clearly, I understand that I didn’t kill my mother. I’d known she overdosed, but I always placed the blame on myself. “She killedherself.”

“Shut up!”

“Fuck me,” I whisper, trying to handle my thoughts. Whatever pills my mom took, however she got her hands on them, it washerfault. In kindergarten, I couldn’t understand her addictions, her problems. I was taught sure as the Earth was round that I caused my mom to die. But almost twenty years later… I’ve had her problems in my head for so long, and now the truth seems so simple. But I couldn’t comprehend until I walked away and came back. Guilt thaws off my shoulders. “I’m done with the shames and sins you’ve put on me.”

The same as I’m done with my plan to ruin him, leaving him dead to rot in these shambles.

“You ruined my life, you mother-killing, stupid-ass—”

“No,” I growl into his face. “All these years I thought I deserved it.” My anger returns, and I could crush his skull. The pounding in my chest pushes me. I want to end him. Adrenaline’s choking me. But Emma and Cally’s faces pop into my mind.Theysave me, and I rasp out a deep breath, trying to calm my itch to fight. “You’re not worth it.”

Pops sways. “Son of a bitch, you—”

“I’m done.” I pull back, and with my bag in hand, I stride past him, knowing I’ll never be back again. I’m not going to touch him, not going to hurt him. I want nothing to do with Pops—no,Randall—ever again.

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