“He contacted me the day you came here.”
“Oh,” is all I say.
“He was worried.”
“Did my mother…?” I ask, but he shakes his head. I don’t know if this surprises me. Part of me thinks she doesn’t care if I’m gone and the other knows how much control my mother likes to have over me.
“I’m sure he told your mother,” Ben adds. “I told him I would keep you safe and have you home for Christmas.”
“Hunter will be there. I guess I can tell everyone then.” I sigh, not looking forward to it. I want to see Hunter more than anything, but I don’t want to face the things he’ll say to me or the looks he’ll give me. I wonder if he’ll bring his girlfriend with him. My belly turns and the urge to throw up hits me. I jump up and run for the bathroom to get sick all over again.
Chapter Eight
Hunter
“Where is she!?” I shout at my father.
“Calm down, Hunter. What’s going on?”
I walk over to him and hold up the picture. “Who is she? Where did you get this? Where is she? I have to find her. Now!”
“What is wrong with you?” He reaches out to take the picture from me, but I hold it to my chest. “Hunter, that’s Autumn. Porsha’s daughter. I asked her to give me a picture of her for my birthday. What are you going on about? You said you didn’t want to meet her.”
“I’m…” My thoughts are jumbled as I plop down on the couch in his office. I lean forward, looking at her picture and staring into her smiling eyes. “Dad, this is her. She’s the one.”
He walks over and sits beside me. For a moment he doesn’t say anything as he puts his arm around my shoulder and hugs me close. “I know she is, son. And you need to go and get her.”
“What?” I snap my head up and stare at him. “How do you know?”
“You may not want to admit it to me or to yourself, but you and I are alike. We’re stubborn and possessive and when we want something we feel it in our bones. The first time I laid eyes on Autumn, I knew she was the one for you. She was just like your mother, and I saw in her a spirit that would match your own. It’s the reason I married Porsha.”
I look at him, unable to ask all of the questions going through my mind. There are too many thoughts hurtling at me at once.
“I met Autumn when she was volunteering at the soup kitchen.”
“The one we used to go to with Mom?” I ask, and he nods.
“After she and your brother died, I needed to go back. I wanted to hold on to the memories of them. Your mother enjoyed helping people, and I know that it meant a lot to her that we volunteered. The first time I went back I saw Autumn. She was sixteen at the time, but I could see how kind and bright she was. We ended up talking and I found out a lot about her home life. From the first moment I met her, I knew that if your mother were alive, she would have taken this girl under her wing. She would have done everything she could to make her feel safe and loved. So that’s what I did.”
“You married Porsha to protect Autumn?” I ask in disbelief.
“I did. Porsha came and picked her up that day, and I asked her out for coffee. I knew that I would never love another woman as much as I loved your mother, but I could take care of Autumn. I didn’t want to replace your mother or your brother. But I wanted to make sure the rest of my life was spent doing the most I could for the people that mattered to me.”
“How did you know I would care about Autumn so much?”
He shrugs. “I just knew. One look at your mom and I knew she was the one. One look at Autumn and I knew she was the one for you. I’ve been looking after her for the last two years, waiting on you to finally meet. And I think it’s finally time.”
“Over my dead body,” Porsha hisses.
My father and I both stand up at the exact same moment when we see her standing in the doorway.
“I won’t let either of you anywhere near her,” she snarls, stomping into the office.
“I’m afraid that’s not up to you,” my dad says, putting his hands in his pockets. “She’s with Ben right now, and she’ll be here tomorrow.”
“Who’s Ben?” I bark.
“Her biological father,” my dad says in a soothing tone. “Don’t worry. I’ve been in contact with her since she left.”
“How dare you!” Porsha screams. “She’s my daughter!”