I approached her. I couldn’t help it. Even seconds after telling myself that I would keep my distance from her, she drew me in like a moth to the flame. I hated to see her so melancholy.
This was bad. It hadn’t even been that long ago that she was terrified of me. I was torn between drawing her closer and pushing her away. It was safer for her if I pushed her away, and I needed to keep her safe. The idea of her leaving gutted me, but if she had family who missed her, it was my responsibility to see her back to them. Not for their sake, but for hers.
Only ever hers.
“Why did you react the way you did when I mentioned your parents?” I hadn’t forgotten her earlier reaction, even if we’d gotten distracted for a bit.
She still wouldn’t look at me. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean.”
The large kitchen had an island prep station. I’d been specifically keeping the corner of the island between us, and against my better judgement, I rounded it now to stand next to her. Lifting my hand to her face, I gently cupped her cheek and turned her to look at me.
I had no right to touch her, especially not after learning her age, but I didn’t like that she’d lied to me. Her polite response could not hide the redness of her cheeks at her answer.
“Is Jones yourmakuakane?Your father?” I didn’t respect the man enough to say his full name out loud. He wasn’t worth the breath it would take.
Her eyes widened as they met mine, and I knew immediately that I’d guessed wrong. “No!” Her reaction was different this time, more surprised than horrified as it had been downstairs. “Mr. Dalton-Jones isnot my father.”
I slowly dropped my hand, and was pleased when she didn’t look away from me. “Then who is? Where are you from so we can get you back there?”
She swallowed hard, and her chin trembled as tears returned to her eyes. “Please…” Caroline’s voice was low, but an unmistakable plea. “Please don’t send me back there. I’ll do anything.Please…”
Fuck! I reached for her again, quickly pulling her against my chest. “E malie ?oe,” I muttered, hoping to instill calmness. She burrowed into me, her arms too short to wrap entirely around my back. I tried to concentrate on comforting her, not how good she felt against me. The top of her head didn’t even crest my nipples. “Easy. What happened? Why don’t you want to go back? Is it because of Samantha? You think they won’t accept her?”
Fuckers deserved to die a slow and painful death if they dared turn away an innocent child, a product of rape. I would hang them by their thumbs and slit their throats over a fire ant nest before slowly lowering them down.
Caroline’s head shook against my chest. Shoots, so no fire ants would be used today. But she did not correct my assumption, only squeezed her arms tighter around me.
“Do you not know where you’re from?” Maybe she was sold as a baby or a toddler, and had no memory of her birth parents. “There are ways to…” My voice trailed off when she shook her head again. Fuck. I was not good at playing Twenty Questions. I rubbed my hand up and down her back, hoping to soothe her worries.
My eyes landed on Samantha, and I started to get a very sick feeling as a dark thought came to mind. Caroline was seventeen. Samantha was four. Any eight year old could do that math. Even if my assumption was correct and Caroline was not her mother biologically, Caroline was still thirteen years old when Samantha was born. And if I was wrong, if Samantha had a different biological father than the soon-to-be dead fucker who ownedthis house, then there was a possibility that Caroline was twelve when she’d gotten pregnant.
Twelve.
Fucking twelve years old. Still just a baby.
The fear Caroline had expressed in the basement at the mention of her parents was no act. She’d been terrified at the idea of being reunited with them.
“Caroline.” I hated what I was about to ask her, but I had to know. “Do your parents know Jones? Do you not want to go back to them because they already know you’re here?”
Her only response was a hiccup as her tears continued to soak my shirt. But there was no shake of her head this time. I had my answer, but fucking hell, I wished I didn’t. Her parents? Her fuckingparents?
I wasn’t a father, but I thought I had been for three weeks. Three incredible weeks that were full of love, fear, and the knowledge that I would do anything to save my daughter. I had visions of her entire life, my hopes and dreams for her future. All the happiness I could bring her.
I was hermakuakane, herfather. There were no limits. Period. End of discussion.
It killed me to know that Caroline was here in this house of ungodly sin, experiencing horrors no person, regardless of age but especially not a child, should ever have to endure, and her parent or parents fuckingknew. The fire ants were back in play.
A small tug on my pants had me looking down. Samantha stood there, wide eyed. I immediately bent down and scooped her up, holding onto her as tightly as I did her mother.
“Don’t worry,” I vowed. My second of the morning. “You don’t have to go back to them. Ever.”
“What will happen to us?” her voice was muffled by my chest.
I squeezed her tighter. “You’ll come home with me.”
It wasn’t a mistake. I wouldn’t allow it to be. These twoinnocent girls were now mine. I was claiming them. I would give them the life they deserved without restitution, without fear or wondering where their next meal would come from. And if Samantha truly hated yogurt and wasn’t just tired of eating it, then it would never touch her lips again.
As for her mother… I couldn’t deny that I was attracted to her. I thought she was incredible and breathtaking, but I wasn’t a monster. I was in complete control of my body, and whatever it was I was feeling towards her would pass. I would give her the life she always dreamed of, the life her own father should have. I wanted to see her smile so radiant every day that she flooded my world with sunlight.