So far, Campbell was pretty sure she got this single mom thing down. She had basically all the money to give Harper and had just gotten used to changing her and feeding her. She didn’t need a man to help her. Sure, it’s nice to have Vic around to babysit the girls but she could do this all by herself. Her and Harper against the world. Considering what happened to her father, this is what was best. Not that she would ever introduce Harper to some man in her life.
And right now, she was doing just fine by herself. Right now she was getting ready upstairs in the house she had with Harper, for infiltrating one of the banquets her and the omegas were planning on taking from. See she was a single mother and still running the omegas like a badass. She got one of the rookies in the group to look after Harper while they did their things fthe night. And right now Harper was downstairs in her playpen while Campbell finished getting ready.
She could hear Harper getting antsy downstairs, something babies like her always did, no big deal. And she was teaching Harper the abandonment method, where if she didn’t reply to a child’s cries, they would stop crying. Eventually, she did stop, much to her own amusement. Campbell smiled to herself, as she finished getting ready.
When she was done, she hadn’t heard Harper whine in a little bit, she just figured that Harper was asleep because she was the best mom in the world. Campbell made her way quietly down the stairs, because she knew Harper would be the devil spawn that she was when she was woken up from her naps. But when she got to her playpen, Harper wasn’t in there.
Instead, there stood a man. One with his back turned to her, as he had been cradling something. But one thing was for sure, a wave of anxiety and panic instantly rushed over Campbell, causing her to reach for her gun under her dress. She couldn’t lose Harper. She had already lost one Armstrong and there was no way she was going to lose her own this time.
“Put. Her. Down.” She demanded, pointing the gun to the back of his head. “If you hurt one hair on her head, I will fire twelve fucking warning shots into your head. Now put her down.” This time, she held the barrel straight behind his head. As he turned around, Campbell was ready to blow out his brains right there and then.
But then she saw his face.
No matter how long a year has been, no matter how much his face changed, Campbell could tell that Sawyer Armstrong was standing right in front of her, holding her daughter, which happened to be his daughter too. “Sawyer . . .” she said almost immediately, lowering the gun. She was in a state of shock, not really knowing what to do. Sure she had her weird dreams that he would one day come back and him holding his kid while she was pregnant, but she never really believed she would ever see this day coming. Though she would never admit it to anyone, she had already cried too many tears last year when she thought he was dead, even though there was the small voice in the back of her head that told her he pulled some shit and he was still alive. And low and behold, it was right.
Harper started crying once again, which brought her back to reality, that she was still in the arms of a stranger. Putting the gun back in place, she walked up and took her away from Sawyer. “Shhh, it’s okay Harper.” Campbell soothed, eventually putting her back into the playpen once she calmed down again.
She turned around, hoping that he just wouldn’t be there, that it was all in her head and it just wasn’t him. But there he was. Standing there still alive. At this point she had no more tears to cry for him, or at least in front of him. Dead or Alive, she would do everything in her power to never let him see her cry. At this point, she had no words to say either.
All the emotion she could muster up lead to a clean hard slap right across his face. Slapping him wasn’t hard to do, but managing not to cry while doing it was.
“Get out.” She managed to say, grabbing her gun and pointing it at him. “You wanted to play dead? You should’ve stayed that way.” She barked at him, her voice couldn’t help but crack. But she stayed strong. “And I don’t care if she’s your blood. If you ever come here and touch her again, you won’t have to fake your death again.”
