Page 154 of Second Sets Omnibus

River had a kid—that I knew of as of yesterday, at least. But she had our kid—Kieran’s kid—and no one knew. Fuck. Fucking Kieran. That dog dick. His words from yesterday echo in my rattling mind, and I groan. I’m too injured to think this damn hard about anything. He knew. And he doesn’t give a shit about her.

I curl my fingers into fists and grind my teeth. Not only from the pain of the alcohol on my back but from Kieran’s betrayal, too. Even if River fucked us over, he has a living, breathing human with his DNA walking around, and he discarded her existence. For what? Fame? Fortune? The band?

“Lyric,” I confirm, turning back to the little girl, slowly wiping away the fat tears dripping down her cheeks. “Hi, Lyric. I’m Rad.”

Her little eyes narrow at me. “I know. You’re my daddy. Mommy said,” she says in a small voice, waving a hand at River, who stiffens beside me.

“Why don’t you give Daddy a little slack, Ly? He hit his head, remember? Always remember to wear a helmet. How about you cover his boo-boos in those bandages and make him feel better.” A sly smirk tugs at the corner of her lips as the scent of rubbing alcohol fills the air. “Might hurt a bit,” she murmurs before placing the cold as fuck alcohol on my stinging wound, which I don’t think she minds doing one bit. In fact, I hear a sadistic laugh from under her breath every time she cleans a wound.

I hiss through my clenched teeth, making Lyric smile as she pulls out a wad of bandages, and I know by the determined look in her eyes she’s about to punish me for not knowing her name by placing those brightly colored bandages filled with images of ocean life to my skin.

“So, Lyric,” I start, grunting when she climbs onto my lap and starts placing Band-Aids on certain spots on my jaw, cheek, and chest. “How old are you?”

“I’m four. Mrs. Harper is my teacher; she’s not very nice. Apple says she’s only mean ‘cuz she had to poop.” I snort at her story, cracking a smile as she continues rambling and placing three more Band-Aids on my face.

“Lyric,” River chastises, shaking her head with a laugh.

“Go on, Little Pretty Girl. Tell me all about Mrs. Harper and how mean she is,” I indulge her, fighting through the pain of River dotting my wounds with more alcohol.

“I’m in preschool,” Lyric says, poking her tongue out again when she sticks a Band-Aid right over my pierced nipple. Her nose crinkles. “Are you a robot?” she asks, touching it through the bandage with a scrunched-up face.

I chuckle. “Nah, Little Pretty Girl. It’s a piercing. Like this one,” I say, pointing to the septum piercing I’ve had for years. “And a few more.” Like hell am I telling a four-year-old there’s metal in places she’s not allowed to see below the belt. Only her mother would get that honor. If that ever happened again, that is.

Her little eyes light up, tearing the shadows away from my heart. If this is what happiness is, then I never want to leave. No matter what River did, this tiny human calls me daddy, and that’s all that matters to me.

“Mommy, I want my booby pierced, too. Just like Daddy,” Lyric says, causing River to choke on her own spit. I bite theinside of my cheek, trying to cover the smile begging to emerge. This kid is something else.

“Jesus, Ly. No booby piercings for you. Where did you even hear that word?” She shakes her head, and a red tint spreads across her cheeks. “You have got to stop watching TV,” she murmurs to herself.

Lyric shrugs, looking over my face and chest with satisfaction. “All done!” she beams, wrapping her arms around me. Gently, she squeezes herself against me and pulls back, cupping my cheeks. “All better, Daddy,” she murmurs with furrowed brows. “Will you come see me again?” She blinks a few times.

“As long as your mom says it’s okay,” I whisper, pushing a few strands of her hair out of her face, and she lights up. “I’m right across the street now.”

“And my other daddies?” she whispers.

“All there,” I breathe without thinking about my words.

“Okay, Ly. I’m sorry. But it’s your bedtime. It’s ten-fifteen, and you, my love, need your beauty rest.” River offers her a hand, and she quickly takes it.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Daddy,” she says with the biggest, heart-melting grin as they disappear behind the wall separating the living room from the rest of the house.

“See you,” I whisper, clamping my eyes shut, letting everything I’ve learned in the past forty-five minutes really sink in. I have so many questions for River and so few answers to go on.

My head still pounds when I stand from the chair, checking out the pictures lining the bookshelf near the fireplace across the room. Young River with baby Lyric in her arms, nestled in a hospital bed. Wet tears line River’s cheeks, but her smile lights up the damn picture.

“It was right after she was born,” River says, standing stiffly beside me. “I was two weeks overdue, and she refused to come. Longest day of my life,” she says, blowing out a breath. “Nine pounds, three ounces, and twenty-one inches long.”

“She’s amazing, Pretty Girl,” I rasp, trying to keep the brewing questions at bay when she sighs.

“She’s something else. She’s special,” she says, side-eyeing me with glossy eyes. “Just don’t make promises you don’t intend to keep. She’s four. She won’t understand when you walk away.”

“Whoa. Wait. Walk away? That’s awfully presumptuous of you,” I say, curling my hands into fists at her accusations.

She shrugs, wiping her face, and turns to leave the room. But I’m hot on her trail, shoving her gently against the wall. Her jaw tightens when I cage her in, trapping her body against mine. Fuck. The warmth of her breath feathers across my cheeks, and her heaving chest bumps into mine. Do not pop a chubby. And do not—Shit, I looked at her tits in her tiny sleep shirt. I shouldn’t have done that. I shake my head and tame the wild little Rad and reel myself in before I end up poking her in the stomach. Yeah, she’d chop little Rad off before she ever let that happen again. I happen to like my damn disco stick intact, thank you very much.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” I ask, scrunching up my nose, refusing to acknowledge the burn tingling the tip. “Pretty Girl, we would have come back no matter what. I just…”

Every muscle in River’s body freezes. Squeezing her eyes shut, she blows out several controlled breaths until two small tears fall from her eyes, cascading down her reddened cheeks. Her fingers curl into fists, and her entire face scrunches angrily.