Ravage Page 22

Daimon smirks at me, his dark hair dripping into his eyes as he tips his head forward. He makes the first move, gesturing for me to come to him.

My feet go before I consider what I’m doing and then I’m wrapped in his arms, smelling the scent of leather and cigarettes—a scent that is all Daimon.

I’m passed to Titch who squeezes me so tightly my ribs feel like they might break before Whizz has his turn. I pause at Fury, not sure what to do. The man doesn’t like being touched.

His brows draw together as he says, “You look different.”

A smile graces my lips. “You too, Fury.”

This right here is what I’ve been missing these past few years. Family. This is my family, and they’re all here for me and Lily-May. A lump settles in my throat as I raise my gaze towards Nox who is peering at me with soft eyes.

I don’t know how the fuck I walked away from them. I’ll never do it again. No one will ever convince me my place isn’t right here.

 

 

17

 

 

Ravage

 

 

The next morning, I head to the hospital early. We’re due to get the results back from my test. I’m on edge to find out if I’m a match. Fuck, I’ve never prayed before, but last night I got down on my knees and asked for help for Lily-May.

I want to see Sash before the results, so I get there a little before the appointment.

I don’t bother to knock on the room door, and when I push inside I find Sasha propped up in a chair at the side of the bed, her head tipped onto her upturned palm, her eyes closed.

My mouth pulls down into a line, an ache festering in my belly. When was the last time she slept? When was the last time she had five minutes to herself? I know she’s worried about Lily-May, but the black smudges under her eyes show me how tired she is, how much this is taking its toll on her.

I shouldn’t do it, but I can’t stop myself. I seize the opportunity and move over to the cot bed to peer down at Lily-May. She’s asleep, her head turned to the side, her thumb sticking out of her mouth. My lips turn up at the corners and I feel a hint of pride when I see she’s wearing the pyjamas I bought her. They’re hanging off her, a size too big, but they’re still cute as fuck, even with the wires snaking out from underneath them. Sasha putting them on her is an acceptance of me coming into their lives.

I stare at the baby, my mind a maelstrom of motion. As I look at her, I know she’s mine. I don’t know how, but I just know I’m her father, and not because I’ve claimed them both, but just because I feel this connection with Lily-May that goes beyond loving her because she’s Sasha’s. I’ve learnt over the years to trust my gut, and right now I trust what my gut is telling me.

I’m her father, no matter what some DNA test says.

I should be scared, but I’m not. I’m ready for this new challenge. I always wanted a family. Family has always been an important part of my identity, probably because mine was such a clusterfuck when I was younger. My father, who died when I was nineteen, was mostly absent in my life, too wrapped up in the club to notice his sons were drowning, and I haven’t seen my crack addict mother since Dad brought us to live with him. I created my own family, which is why Sin’s betrayal cuts deeply. He didn’t consider those bonds important when he attacked and hurt Sasha.

It makes me want that paternity test even more. Not for my peace of mind, but for Sasha’s. A paternity test might clear out some of the monsters chasing on her heels.

“What…?” Her sleepy voice has me glancing over my shoulder. Sasha is straightening in her seat, rubbing at her eyes, her movements slow. When she sees me, her brows draw together. “Rav?”

“I didn’t mean to wake you.”

She rubs at her neck and I expect to see wariness in her eyes, but that’s not what I get. There’s softness and need as she takes me in, and I want to see more of that.

“It’s okay,” she assures me, pushing up from the chair and coming to the cot bed. Her jeans are those skin-tight type that hug her figure, showing me just how much weight she’s lost. It has my teeth gritting. She needs to take better care of herself.

Sasha glances down at Lily-May, her expression becoming more tender. Then she does what I wanted to do and reaches out to run a hand over her hair.

“You’re here for the test results?” she asks, splitting her gaze between me and Lily-May.

“Yeah.”

Her eyes shift to the clock on the wall. “The doctor isn’t seeing us until after nine-thirty.”

“I know,” I tell her and I watch her eyes soften as she realises I came early out of choice.

“Thank you—for yesterday. The clothes, the food. Lily-May ate for the first time in days.”

Her smile slays me and I vow to make her do it every fucking day from now on.

“That’s good to hear, sweetheart.”

“And thanks for getting all the guys here, too. It meant a lot to me and Lil.”

“They wanted to come.” It’s not a lie. When I told them what was going on, they all volunteered to do the test. They don’t know what happened between Sin and Sasha—only Nox knows this—and I don’t plan on telling anyone either. Sasha shouldn’t have to live with this shit trailing behind her.

“Even Fury came.”

I trace her face, committing every inch of it to memory. God, she’s beautiful. How did I go so long without her?

“Yeah. He wanted to.”

Fury hates hospitals and anything that might involve needles. The last time he needed a blood test, it took three of the guys to hold him down, so Whizz could get it from him. He still managed to cause a few black eyes. I was surprised he wanted to come down and take the test at all, but that crazy fucker was insistent. He always did have a soft spot for Sash. Thank fuck it was only a swab test.

She stares at me for a moment, and I wonder what is going through that head of hers. Then she says, “You don’t have to look after us.”

“Yeah, babe, I do.”

My gaze tracks her tongue as it dips out to wet her bottom lip before she tucks her hair behind her ears.

“We’re not your problem.”

I step into her space, forcing her head to tip back, so she can meet my eyes. I caress her cheek, relishing the feel of her soft skin beneath my rough fingers.

“We both know that’s not true.”

“Rav—”

“Don’t argue with me, woman. You and that kid are mine and that makes your shit my shit.”

She nibbles at her bottom lip and my mouth goes Sahara-dry. Does she know what she does to me?

“We can’t just pick up where we left off.”

“I know.”

“I’m not the same person I was back then. Neither are you.”

“I know that too.”

I watch as she huffs out a low breath, her fingers raking through her hair. I wish it was my hands, my fingers. “I need time to digest this shit.”

“You can have all the time you want, but it ain’t going to make any difference. You’re mine. Both of you.”

She needs to realise I’m not going anywhere. I won’t leave her to deal with this shit alone. Not this time, but if she needs to feel in control, I’ll give her that. I’ll give her anything she fucking wants. I have three years to make up for. It gores me knowing that I’m the one who has caused that hesitancy in her eyes, that uncertainty that I hate seeing. I don’t know how I break through her walls, but I’ll find a way because I won’t let her walk away again.