Page 17 of Oathbreaker

It’s suddenly hard to breathe and myriad emotions rocket through me.

Guilt.

Shame.

Curiosity.

Excitement…

Do I have a kid?

“What’s… your name?” I finally ask.

“Frankie.” She cocks her head, like she’s waiting for something.

But I'm finding it hard to breathe.

Her name is Frankie?!

My father’s name was Frank. The only person who ever loved me. He was killed in Afghanistan after 9/11. And I told Briar all about him. This can’t be a coincidence. I don’t believe in them.

“What’s your name?” she counters when I don’t say anything.

“I’m…Colt.” I don’t know if I’m supposed to tell anyone who I am.

Briar was clear that we had to come up with a plan on how to announce that I was back from the dead, but it would be rude not to answer this adorable little girl who watches me like she knows all the secrets to my world.

“Colt. The guy my mommy used to love.”

Oh, sweet Jesus.

I don’t dare hope…do I?

“Aren’t you dead?” she continues.

I almost laugh. What else can I do?

“I was… lost,” I say after a moment. “In a place really far away. Everyone thought I died in an accident, but I didn’t.”

“Are you going to make mommy cry again?”

Not if I can help it.

Not if I can get her to forgive me.

Not if—enough!

I need information. Answers to questions I haven’t had time to think of.

“How old are you?” I ask, trying to still the wild beating of my heart.

“Four and three-quarters.” Her eyes are guileless as she watches me watching her.

“When’s your birthday?”

“February twenty-first… when’s yours?”

“October tenth,” I reply automatically, but I can barely think.