Ryan leaned his face against the hand he was holding, feeling numb and horrified that he didn’t feel any warmth.
This hand that helped to raise him and shielded him from things ever since he was born now felt like nothing in Ryan’s hold.
His father’s hand had never felt like this.
His father’s left hand; in fact, the only hand on his body, for his right hand has been cut by someone no one knew about.
Ryan put his father’s left hand on his head, moving it forward just like his father did when he was a child, caressing Ryan’s crimson black hair in fondness. Granted, his father did that when he was a child and that too only rarely. But still, those memories of his father doting on him were one of Ryan’s favorite memories of his family.
No matter how his father was or how c
