Page 113 of Protecting You
“You’d better eat that,” he said. “There are kids in Africa who don’t have peanut butter cookies.”
“I’m sure it’ll make a difference.” She took a tiny bite and swallowed. “Did you and Megan get married?”
“What? No, no. We spent a couple of months together, but we broke up before graduation. I went into the Army, she went to grad school, and we lost touch.”
Alyssa’s eyebrows rose. “So you just left her to deal with the baby by herself?”
Anger flashed hot. He pushed away from the table and stood. “I knew nothing about Peri. Nothing.” He snatched his glass of milk, downed the whole thing, then rinsed the glass and filled it with water. “You want some?”
“I’m fine.”
After taking a long sip, he leaned against the kitchen counter.
“Megan didn’t tell you she was pregnant?”
“We broke up. We graduated. I never talked to her again. I didn’t know about the car accident. I didn’t know anything.”
“How did you find out?”
“October, I got a phone call from Megan’s mother telling me about her death and asking to meet. I figured maybe she’d left something for me—a letter or… I didn’t know, and frankly, I didn’t care. But the woman had lost her daughter, so I figured I had to meet with her. I was out of the country but told her I’d reach out when I was back in Washington. I texted her, and an hour later, she and Megan’s father were on my doorstep—with Peri. She believed—like Peri believed, like her whole family believed—that Megan had told me about the baby and I’d refused to step up. She brought Peri there to guilt me into taking her.”
“You’re kidding. She just dropped it on you like that? And used her granddaughter?—?”
“Like mother, like daughter. I was furious and confused and probably handled it all very badly, but I instantly fell in love with my daughter. I set her up in my bedroom to watch a movie, then told Megan’s parents the truth. Her mother called me a liar. Her father believed every word I said, which told me a lot. He loved Megan, but he also knew what she was capable of.
“They started talking about how I needed to provide enough money to send Peri to boarding school, and that was it. I told them I’d take her, and a couple of days later, she came home with me.”
By home, he meant here, to his parents’ house.
Callan didn’t explain their reaction to finding out they had a seven-year-old granddaughter, equal parts joy and horror that he’d fathered a child out of wedlock, a child he’d known nothing about.
He didn’t explain his sheer terror at the prospect of being a daddy to a grieving little girl.
He didn’t explain how relieved he’d been when his parents had agreed to take her until he could transfer out of field work into something closer to home.
He didn’t explain how he’d known the Boston job was too far away but had been dragging his feet about finding something closer, even if it meant leaving the CIA. Not because he didn’t want to leave the Agency. His new job was dull as dirt. Not because he didn’t want to be with Peri. He did, more than anything.
But because he was scared he was going to mess it up even worse than he already had.
He didn’t tell Alyssa any of that.
“Your parents have had her all this time?”
He dipped his head in a nod and didn’t lift it again, too ashamed to meet Alyssa’s gaze.
“She’s your daughter? You’re sure?”
“The math works out, and I can see myself in her, a little. And…” He hated to admit this, but Alyssa was asking the question. And she knew Megan and what she was like. “I ran a DNA test, just to be certain, not that I told anybody.”
“Your secret’s safe.”
He could trust Alyssa. Of that, he had no doubt.
“Can I just say one thing?” Alyssa stood and approached him, slowly, as if he might bolt.
Which, honestly, he was tempted to do.
But in her expression, he saw nothing but understanding. “I can’t imagine how shocking it was to find out about Peri.” Alyssa’s head dipped to the side. “Is her name…?” Alyssa smiled, shaking her head. “She actually named her daughter Persephone.”
