My father.
When I was younger, I saw him from a different perspective than everyone else. To me, he wasn’t the merciless, heartless man everyone feared and cowered away from. He was Daddy.
Just Daddy.
He was the type of father who wouldn’t just read me bedtime stories, but he’d also perform them for me. He tickled me until I broke into giggles.
He took me on long runs in the rain.
He saved me from the monsters in the lake.
Daddy never frowned when he looked at me. When he was having a bad day, it’d take a glance at me and a smile would break on his face.
“Are you comfortable, princess?” he asks with a low, yet warm voice.
Princess.
Back then, I was his princess. His favourite. His legacy. His masterpiece.
A lump lodges deep in my throat. I can’t speak even if I want to, so I nod.
For long minutes, silence is the only language in the car.
I watch the lines on Dad’s face. He has a sharp jaw and high cheekbones that give him an untraditional type of masculine beauty. From afar, we look nothing alike, but up close, I share the thickness of his lashes and the shape of his eyes — mine are just a bit bigger.
He places his elbow on the edge of the car seat and leans on it as he watches me. We’re like two injured animals that don’t know how to accept offered help.
Or maybe I’m the only one who feels that way. After all, Dad knew exactly where to find me.
“I understand this can seem too much.” Dad’s posh accent fills the car.
Can seem too much?
Is he kidding? He just returned from the dead. Surely, there are some other words he could use.
“I told you she’s not ready.” Knox doesn’t avert his attention from his phone.
“That’s up to me to decide,” Ethan tells him.
Knox lifts a shoulder. “Just saying, Dad.”
Dad?
My gaze snaps to Knox. Did he just call my dad his dad?
He’s about my age, when the hell did Dad have him? Is he from another woman?
“Are you…” I clear my throat. “Are you my brother?”
Knox lifts his gaze from his phone and winks. “Foster brother, babe.”
Oh. Okay.
He does bear some resemblance to Eli. Is that why Dad took him in?
Although I doubt Dad would take in anyone just for that; he doesn’t like anyone to get into his familial bubble. Now that I think about it, Dad’s concern for privacy came before all else. That’s why he kept us away from civilisation.
However, all of this is only a speculation based on what I remember about Dad. It’s been ten years, he could’ve changed into an entirely different person.