Page 78 of The First Cut

“Safe. Thank you,” I reply softly. “We’re not offended. It shows you care.”

Her shoulders relax. “I think we’re all on the same page. I’m not here to make your lives more difficult. I just want to see Millie happy and settled.”

“Gotta say I heard some horror stories about foster care and social workers. I think it wouldn’t be quite so horrific if a few more of them were like you,” Hannibal grunts, making me blink.

Did he just compliment her? I have to hold back my snort when I see how startled she looks, too.

“Thank you, that’s very kind of you to say. Now, I don’t want to keep you for too long, but I do need to take a quick look around.”

My face flushes with embarrassment as she takes in the sparsely furnished room.

“Not much to see right now, as this is only temporary, while our actual house has some work done on it. I figured this was better than a hotel, though.”

“It’s clean and tidy, and that’s half the battle. Despite popular beliefs, kids don’t need money thrown at them. They need love. If you asked her if she’d rather have a big fancy house or her mother back, which do you think she’d choose?”

Hannibal concedes her point with a nod. She has no idea how much I needed to hear that right now. I’ve done nothing but feel like I’ve failed my child in every conceivable way. I’ve worried day and night about providing for him, but Jane’s words put things into perspective and remind me of being a kid. I had everything, and yet it was all just window dressing. I had none of the things that mattered. I thought I’d found that in Havoc, but maybe I’ve been looking in all the wrong places. Maybe everything I need to give my son the best start in life is already inside me.

With that revelation knocking me for six, I miss most of the conversation around me as Hannibal holds tight to my hand and leads me around the house. By the time we’re done, I realize I haven’t spoken a single word.

“Everything looks good. I will need to see the new place you’re moving into when it’s ready though.”

“That won’t be a problem,” Hannibal reassures her.

“Excellent. Here.” She hands him an information packet. “There are some helpful tips in there, plus all my numbers if you think of something else you want to ask after I’m gone.”

“Thank you,” I chime in.

“Alright, I’m going to wake Millie. Just take it one day at a time. And be yourselves. Kids can tell when you’re trying to be something you’re not.”

She turns and opens the door, hurrying down the steps and over to the car.

Hannibal sighs. “If I try to be myself, I’ll traumatize the girl.”

“No, you won’t. Just be the you that you are with me.”

He gives my hand a squeeze before turning his attention back to the car. When the back door opens and a girl steps out wearing jeans and an oversized hoodie, I feel him tense beside me again. I trace circles across the back of his hand with my thumb in what I’m hoping is a soothing gesture.

Jane moves to stand beside Millie, holding her bag out for her. Millie takes it before turning to look at the house and freezing when she sees us watching her. Jane urges her forward. The closer she gets, the more her features come into view. Holy crap, she looks like Hannibal. The slant of her head, the cool aloofness teamed with her cold gaze makes me want to chuckle. Something tells me this kid isn’t as fragile as Hannibal thinks she is.

Her dark hair bounces around her shoulders as she walks up the steps and stops just outside the door. Jane moves up behind her and places her hands on Millie’s shoulders.

“So, you’re my father?” she asks softly as she takes in Hannibal’s face.

He nods slowly.

“I saw you at the hospital. Mom says—” she swallows hard, her face paling slightly “—she said that you’re my dad, but the drugs were making her loopy. I expected a banker or a car salesman or something, not a biker.”

“You got a problem with bikers?”

I squeeze his hand hard.

“I don’t think so. I never met any before. I just meant my mom had a type, and you’re not it.”

“Millie,” Jane warns her.

Hannibal shrugs. “Come back in fifteen years and tell me if you still like the same shit you do now. People change. Even moms.”

“Do dads? Coz I’ve gotta say, you’ve been a shit one up till now.”