Wrong For Me

He tips his chin. “Sir.”

“Son.” Trick eyes him a moment before he continues, “I offered you this spot, and you turned me down.”

Rowan stands taller, nodding in agreement.

“You plan to turn me down this time?”

Rowan grins. “No, sir.”

“Good. ’Cause you earned it before, but you’ve demanded it now.” Trick steps forward and places the gold Blaze pin on Rowan’s jacket, clamping a hand on his shoulder. “Welcome.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Now, shut up and get back in line before that baby wakes up.”

I grin and look to my baby girl. She is sleeping soundly in my mother’s arms, who is smiling, staring up at her sons. Evie might be only a couple of months old, but she knows her uncle’s voice, and every damn time he speaks near her, she hears him and demands his arms—unless it’s me holding her. Then, she’s just fine where she is. But he’s good with her.

My eyes are pulled back to Rowan when he chuckles lightly and moves back to the line, but my brows pull in when he stops in front of Gio, who grins and reaches out to straighten Rowan’s pin. Then, he moves over from him to squeeze beside him instead of going back to where he stepped from.

My stare finds Oakley’s, and she winks before calling on the next recruit.

All in all, the graduation lasts only about forty-five minutes. Then, everyone is dismissed, and families get together for pictures, but I slip from the group and steal my daughter from my mother’s arms so she can enjoy this moment with her youngest son.

I leave the gym and head out back and around the corner, lowering the two of us onto the grass.

With a deep breath, I close my eyes, enjoying the perfect spring weather.

It’s been just shy of a year since I almost lost Oakley and our daughter at the hands of my own mistake, and the reality of it hasn’t gotten any easier to live with.

I look at my daughter, wrapped in a Blackline academy blanket her grandpa had specially made for her, little pink socks poking out the end.

One day, she’ll grow up and hear the story of how her uncle saved her little life. A story of how strong her mama was and how hard she fought. And what will she think of me when she does?

All I ever wanted was to love Oakley, and in my selfish need to have her right then, before we were ready for each other, I almost lost them both.

And I can’t find a way to forgive myself for that, but maybe I’m not supposed to. Maybe it’s the fear that’ll serve as a reminder of how trust and love and honesty are what build a strong family.

Relationships are so much more than simply loving someone.

I was selfish, and that’s a mistake I haven’t made since, one I’ll never make again.

I’ll put them above everything. Every move I make will be with them in mind, and Oakley will be a part of every decision, no matter what. Losing her … hurting her is a risk I’ll never take again. It’s opened a healless wound.

The pain from my choices never goes away, and the fear of retaliation from the Murphy family and their followers never lessens, both things keeping me awake most nights.

I know for a fact that I don’t deserve the life I’m living.

I don’t deserve such a beautiful, strong woman who can fight her own battles but chooses to have me beside her to help should she need it.

I don’t deserve this little girl looking up at me with big, innocent blue eyes, content just being in my arms.

I’ll never deserve what Oakley’s given me. But I’ll take it and thank her for it every day.

I think the reminder of what I’ve done is a punishment of sorts, something I’m supposed to live with for the gifts I’ve been given. And it’s one I’ll gladly bear.

For my girls.

I run my fingertips across Evie’s temple, and she flings her little arms out, gripping on to my Blackline.

She smiles and starts kicking her tiny feet.

“Did you have a good nap, princess?”

I tickle her belly, and she squirms, her hands patting against her blanket.

“Gone for ten minutes, and already, she’s stolen my title?”

I whip around with a grin, finding Oakley headed for us, a slice of cake in her hands.

My eyes follow her as she comes near, and my chest tightens.

She sees it and knows my struggles.

She smiles softly and drops beside us.

Neither of us says anything, but both of us stare at our daughter, watching as she pulls her blanket into her mouth and rubs it against her face.

Oakley takes a bite of cake and then offers me one. So, I open my mouth, and she laughs, sliding the fork in.

“Good?” She raises a brow, and I grin, nodding.