behind him and turns to me.
“Is she dead?” he asks, his voice filled with fear.
“God, no. She’s alive and well, and well... I wanted to talk to your wife about her.”
He stares at me for a moment, his eyes grave. He nods his head and says, “Come on in.”
I follow him into the kitchen, with the Berner trotting on my heels. I can’t believe they have the same type of dog that Rowan has. Unbelievable.
I get my first look at Rowan’s mom. She’s an older version of Rowan, except she wears her dark hair short in a pixie cut. She’s dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, and she’s pulling some muffins out of the oven.
“Honey,” Peter Grantham says hesitantly. “We have a visitor.”
Susan Grantham turns to me with a smile on her face. She sets the muffins on the counter and takes the oven mitts off, extending a hand to me. I shake it and say, “Mrs. Grantham... I’m Flynn Caldwell.”
She gives me a warm smile. “Please... call me Susan.” She spares a glance at her husband as if asking,
I don’t hold back. “I’ve come to talk to you about your daughter.”
Susan’s face goes white and she reaches a hand out to brace herself against the counter. “Anne Marie? She’s alive?”
I nod. “She goes by Rowan now... Rowan Page.”
I’m not sure what reaction I expected, but it certainly wasn’t this. Tears start pouring down her face and she sags to the floor crying. Peter rushes over to her and kneels down at her side, holding her in his arms.
She looks up at me, disbelief in her eyes. “I thought she was dead. I searched for her for so long, but we couldn’t find anything.”
“You looked for her?” I ask, disbelieving her words. This is the lady that stood by while Rowan was practically kicked out of her home and told never to return.
“Yes,” says Peter as he helps his wife from the floor. “Up until about a year ago... when the fifth private investigator we hired couldn’t find anything.”
Following my meeting with Satan’s Spawn—aka John Cleeden—I really had some poor expectations for this meeting. I expected to find a socialite living in the lap of luxury with her new husband and new life, completely having forgotten about the daughter she had forsaken.
Yet, here I find a woman who has apparently been grieving over a supposedly dead daughter.
“You abandoned her though... all those years ago,” I accuse.
“Now wait a minute,” Peter says, stepping toward me.
“No, Peter,” Susan says, laying a restraining hand on his arm. “He’s right. I failed my daughter in many, many ways, and I’ll answer for it. I hope I can answer to Anne Marie. I hope she’ll let me beg her forgiveness.”
“It’s Rowan,” I snap.
Susan nods her head at me in cautious agreement. “Of course… Rowan.”
“Do you have any idea the damage you inflicted on her?”
Susan bows her head, sniffling. “I know I destroyed her.”
“Wrong! You damaged her, but you could never destroy someone as strong as her.”
She looks back up at me, taking a step forward to grab my hand.
“Please,” she begs. “Tell me everything about her. Give me something.”
I shouldn’t. I should walk out that door and let this woman suffer under her guilt. But there is something in her eyes that stops me. She looks like she has truly suffered, and damn if that doesn’t pull at my heart just a tiny bit.
The fact that she has Rowan’s gray eyes makes me hesitate.
“She’s wonderful,” I tell her. “She’s beautiful, smart, and kind. She’s a survivor and I love her very much.”
Susan’s smile lights up her face and she walks over to the kitchen table, gesturing for me to take a seat. “Tell me more,” she begs.
I sit down and I tell her everything.
I unlock my apartment door and step inside, quietly shutting it. I immediately see Rowan on the couch and she pops up quickly, looking at me with relief. Capone bounds off the couch and charges me. I take a moment to lean over and give him a hug.
Looking back up, I see Rowan’s eyes travel up and down my body, and well, shit... even as pissed at her as I still am, her look causes desire to sweep through me.
I push it back, because I have something else I need to do.
“You’re back,” she observes with relief.
I nod. I take a moment to look at her. She looks tired and pale, with dark circles under her eyes. She’s clearly not been sleeping. I want to take her in my arms and hold her, but I don’t know if she’d accept that.
I don’t know anything at all.
“Where have you been? I called Tim and he said you were out of town.”
Rubbing my hand along my neck, I nod. “Yeah... I took an impromptu trip.”
She cocks her head at me with inquisition.
“I went to Texas,” I tell her and watch her face blanch. “To see your parents.”
Rowan’s hand comes up to her throat and flutters there. She takes a step back and sits down on the couch heavily. “Are they... okay?”
“Your dad isn’t. He had a stroke and is in a nursing home.”
“You saw him?”
“Yeah. His mind is there... he understands everything. But he can’t talk that well.”
“Did he ask about me?” Her voice is small, and filled with a child’s hope that perhaps she is actually loved by that fucker.
“I’m sorry,” I say and understanding sweeps over her face.
She lets out a shaky breath. “I guess I shouldn’t have expected anything. I guess... I guess maybe I thought he’d grown... matured. Maybe had some regret.”
“I don’t think your dad is capable, Rowan. I’m sorry. But I made sure he knew exactly how badly you proved him wrong. He’ll go to his grave knowing he didn’t break you.”
She gives me a small smile, and then looks down at her hands clasped in her lap. “I guess that’s something.”
“I saw your mom, too.”
Her face snaps up but there is fear. She’s already been let down once by me, and I can see she’s expecting it again.
“She left your dad a few years ago. She’s remarried.”
Rowan doesn’t say anything and I can see she’s holding her breath, her bottom lip trembling. Her pain is so visceral I can taste bile in my throat.
“She looked for you. Starting the night you left. The police wouldn’t file a missing person’s report for at least forty-eight hours, but she made your dad pull some strings. She hired several private investigators but they all kept coming up with dead ends. She even checked in all states to see if you changed your name. But, of course, you didn’t do it legally so there was no paper trail.”
“She looked for me?”
“Yeah... apparently your dad didn’t want any part of it, and ultimately... that led to their split. She finally gave up about a year ago, when the last private investigator told her that you were probably dead.”
Rowan lets out a short sob and I take a step toward her but she holds her hand up to stop me. She turns her back on me and looks out the window, her shoulders hunched. “I can’t.”
My heart falls, and I wonder if this has all been for naught. Maybe Rowan doesn’t want to be any different than she is right now. Maybe she doesn’t need love in her life.
Regardless, it doesn’t change the fact that I’ve brought the past to her doorstep.
I turn and walk to the door. Opening it, I motion the couple inside. Susan and Peter Grantham step in, their
