| |
Ford
––––––––
Ford had circled the coffee table countless times, staring at the briefcase as if it were Pandora's Box and opening it would destroy him and life as he knew it. When he couldn't take another minute of not knowing, he sat down on the couch, wiped his sweaty palms on his pants legs, and lifted the lid.
The tiny hope he'd held that Baines had been fucking with him died a quick death. Lifting a file folder from the stack, he flipped it open and saw a Nevada marriage license for himself and Callisto Rose Hayes dated April 3rd. The day the accident had occurred. The date that Callie had admitted was the last time that she had seen him.
Their wedding day.
Fuck.
He scrubbed both hands down his face and slid the license aside to see a California birth certificate underneath it. There in black and white was the damming evidence of the ultimate duplicity. Callisto Rose Hayes and Rutherford Prescott Hammersmith II were the legal parents of Rutherford Prescott Hammersmith III.
Jesus fucking Christ.
This was a nightmare. Finding out that Callie was the mother of his son should have been a cause for celebration, but not like this. This was a living hell that had effectively destroyed any hope they had of a future together. There was no coming back from this. The betrayal went too deep and she'd never forgive him.
Shoving the certificate aside, he found the annulment, custody, and non-disclosure agreements beneath it. He read them and saw that all of the documents bore Callie's signature while Caruthers had wielded his power of attorney to sign for Ford. Documents that he never would have signed himself if he'd been awake and cognizant.
Ford ran his fingertip over a blotch partially obscuring her signature and knew it was stained by a tear that she had shed while signing. He closed his eyes in anguish. It gutted him to imagine how badly she must have been hurting. To wake after nearly a year and be told by a stranger that the man she had given her heart to wanted an annulment.
It was no wonder that she'd hated him.
Ford hated himself.
He shouldn't have trusted anything his mother and her lapdog had told him. He should have gone to Nevada and found out what happened for himself. Admittedly his mental state had been a serious impediment at the time, but the majority of the problem stemmed from the belief that he had killed a woman while driving under the influence.
His mother had allowed him to believe an unforgivable lie that resulted in mental distress so severe that he had suffered night terrors for years. The fear of not knowing what had happened coupled with the guilt for taking an innocent life had been so debilitating that he hadn't been able to drive or even ride in a car for months.
But even the damage that lie had caused to his soul hadn't been as devastating as knowing the full extent of what Callie had needlessly suffered because of his mother's depraved indifference. What she was still suffering now that the painful truth had finally been revealed by Madeline's malicious taunts. The thought sickened him as he reached for the next file in the stack.
Callie's medical file read like a horror story.
Other than minor contusions and abrasions, she had been impaled by a metal shard resulting in a jagged four-inch laceration just above her pelvic area that required surgery. As per hospital protocol, a pregnancy test had been administered, and the result was positive with an estimated conception date of four weeks.
According to the emergency room report, she had been cogent enough to ask about Ford's condition upon arrival. After being apprised of his prognosis she had suffered a severe anxiety attack and was sedated. The attending physician had made a notation that the family had her transferred to a private hospital against medical advice before the surgery could be performed.
As far as he could tell, Callie had remained sedated for the duration.
The private hospital's forms had her listed as Subject A as if she were some kind of fucking lab rat instead of a human being. She was hooked up to an IV and feeding tube to keep her alive and received minimal physical therapy to prevent complete muscle atrophy. Other than her vital signs, the focus was on the growth of the fetus known as Subject B.
His stomach flipped at the thought of Callie being treated like a baby breeder in a bad sci-fi movie and he barely made it to the bathroom before puking his guts out. Ford cleaned himself up and sat back down to finish reading the file. Though it was pure hell to do so, he deserved to suffer for the misery that she had unknowingly been forced to endure.
The bulk of the file contained weekly sonograms and measurements of the baby right up until the doctor determined that he was ready to be delivered. Callie was prepped for surgery and the abdominal scar from the accident had been reopened to use for the cesarean delivery. The bastards had even found a way to hide that.
Afterward, she had remained sedated until the surgical scar had healed and the family agreed to have her discharged. And that was it. She had served her purpose in providing an heir, so she became as disposable as an empty bottle. He bent double with dry heaves but there was nothing left to expel.
Nothing but sorrow and grief.
The last entry was an observation from the attending physician. When Callie had been awakened, she was calm yet confused as the doctor explained her prolonged recovery. She kept asking about her husband's condition and when her questions went unanswered, she became hysterical and began screaming his name.
She was sedated and discharged immediately.
The rest of the file contained information about Scott until he was released into the care of a private nurse. Ford wondered if it was the same nurse that had taken care of his son after he'd returned home. If she'd been complicit or even known about the duplicitous scheme that had been perpetrated on the child's mother.
The next folder contained his medical records, and that appeared to be the only thing they had not lied to him about. The extent of his head injury had been so severe that he had been airlifted to a private hospital where a specialist had him put into a medically induced coma until the cerebral edema had subsided. Afterward, his condition had not been life-threatening and the doctors had been unable to determine why he wouldn't wake up.
Toward the end of the file was a notation from the attending physician that he had awakened angry and combative when Subject A had begun screaming his name. Ford read it three times to make sure that he hadn't misread it, because... Jesus fucking Christ. He had awakened from a coma when he heard Callie screaming his name.
Without a doubt, he knew that was the reason. The connection that he and Callie shared was so deep and profound that he believed with all of his heart that she was the other half of his soul. Whether he had been consciously or unconsciously aware of who she was, when Callie called for him, he woke.
That shit was so deep that he couldn't wait to yank his shrink's chain with it at their next session. Going back to the note, it explained that Ford had been lightly sedated to prevent him from injuring himself. When he woke on his own again a few hours later, he had no memory of the accident or the weeks preceding it.
Or the woman he loved.
Completely disgusted, he tossed that file aside and grabbed the last one. It contained the accident report as well as a CD with footage of the scene from the state trooper's body camera. It took him a few minutes and a couple of shots of whiskey to work up the nerve to insert the disc into his laptop and hit Play.
He had known the imagery would be painful to see, he just hadn't realized how brutal it would be. The trooper had been the first one at the scene and his bodycam showed a vehicle with the front end obliterated, pieces of debris littering the road in every direction. A quick check of the car revealed that it was empty.
According to the report, the driver of the other car had entered the interstate via the off-ramp and drove straight into oncoming traffic. Witness statements said that Ford had braked and swerved toward the shoulder to avoid the collision. The other car had impacted head-on with the front bumper on the driver's side, causing his vehicle to roll.
The drunk driver had not been wearing a seat belt and had been ejected through the windshield. The crumpled body lying face down on the pavement attested to the fact that she had not survived the crash. The trooper had knelt next to her, presumably to check for a pulse before he rose and hurried down the embankment.
The vehicle that Ford had been driving was upside down in the ditch with a tire still spinning. The front end was completely demolished and he couldn't even tell what kind of car it had been. The officer knelt beside the wreckage to look in the passenger window and Ford gasped in sheer horror at the sight before him.
Callie was unconscious and hanging upside down, suspended by the seatbelt holding her in place. A chunk of metal protruded from her abdomen with blood running down onto her face and dripping from her short black hair. It was beyond horrific and he had to pause the video to regain control of his emotions.
When he restarted it, the trooper checked her pulse and quickly moved around to the other side of the car. It was almost surreal, as he stared at himself in the same position as Callie, blood coating his face and hair from a gash at his temple. Without conscious thought, his hand lifted to touch the scar at his hairline.
The trooper touched his neck searching for a pulse and his eyes flew open, wild and unfocused. Ford watched as his lips moved but the sound was faint and scratchy so he turned up the volume. "Callisto."
A man's voice sounded loudly through the speaker in a crisp, clipped tone and he deduced it was the trooper speaking. "This one is awake, the other one is unconscious, and the woman is dead."
"Noooo!" The blood-curdling cry sent a chill down his spine because it had come from his younger self. He saw his head swing toward the passenger side, heard the inhuman screams as he saw Callie. He watched helplessly as his hands clawed at the restraints holding him in place until the buckle released and he fell headfirst onto the roof of the car.
The trooper and an EMT were reaching inside the window, trying to hold him back, their voices telling him to calm down and be still to no avail. He managed to twist his body and lift his head level with hers. One trembling hand wiped the blood from her face as his own tears streaked the blood covering his.
"Callisto, don't leave me. Please don't leave me. I love you, baby. Love you so fucking much," the garbled words were barely audible as he pressed his forehead against hers.
"Sir, you have to stop moving," another voice commanded before the officer moved aside and allowed a second EMT to take his place. The two men grabbed his legs and pulled him out of the vehicle as he kicked and cursed them. The officer helped them get him onto a gurney and into restraints while he pleaded with them to let him go to Callisto.
Another set of EMT's had managed to free Callie and place her onto a gurney from the opposite side. A strong gust of wind lifted the sheet covering her and draped it across her head. They carried her past Ford with her face covered and he fought the restraints like a wild animal, screaming in gut-wrenching anguish, "Let me die! I can't live without her. Fucking let me die!"
The video played to the end, but he didn't see the rest of it. Ford sat there with his face in his hands and cried like a baby, the sound of his screams echoing in his head. He had regained consciousness long enough to draw the wrong conclusions, and then he had wanted to die with her. Now he knew why he couldn't remember.
And why he wouldn't wake up.
Wilkes had explained years before that traumatic amnesia could have been caused by the severe head trauma, or if he had been cognizant during the accident, that the mental trauma of taking a life could have been more than he could endure so his brain had simply erased the memory as a means of protecting himself.
The same theory would apply if he had believed that the woman he loved had died.
He couldn't help wondering if the outcome would have been different if he had known that she was alive. If he had woke from the coma with his memory intact, he would have found a way to get her back. If he hadn't stayed comatose, they would have been together all this time as a family. If his fucking mother hadn't meddled in his life and kept them apart.
So many ifs could have happened, yet none of them did.
After all this time, he finally knew the truth, yet wished he didn't.
Determined to see it through, Ford scrubbed the tears from his face, lifted a pharmacy film processing envelope, and removed the contents. The pictures and negatives were from the roll of film Callie said he'd had processed. Every one of them was a duplicate of the set he'd given her. Including the flamingo costume. He replaced the photos and laid the envelope aside.
A plain white envelope was next and he opened it to find a delicate gold chain with a charm attached. The charm was the same symbol tattooed onto his chest. Callisto. He knew this had to be the necklace that Callie's mother had given her. The one she never took off. His fucking mother had stolen that from her as well.
Ford's hands were actually shaking when he lifted the ring box and flipped the lid open. The sight of matching wedding bands and an engagement ring nearly choked him. The gold and diamonds that should have shown brightly were dull from a decade spent locked away in Caruthers safe.
He lifted the engagement ring from its velvet nest and admired the intense deep purple diamond. He didn't know how he knew what it was, but he did. Perhaps he had researched them to find one that matched her eyes, or maybe the jeweler had told him, but somehow the knowledge had remained in his subconscious.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
He snapped the box shut and laid it aside before grabbing the briefcase and going into his darkroom. Just as Callie had claimed, there were dozens of rolls of unprocessed film stacked neatly across the bottom. It could take days to get it all developed and considering they were a decade old, he hoped they were still viable.
Processing the film had been a true test of endurance for Ford. Thanks to his habit of writing the date on the canisters, he'd been able to keep them in order of sequence. Before his eyes, the missing eight weeks of his life had come alive in vivid color. How he wished he had the memories to go with them.
The images told their own story and supported everything that Callie had shared with him. The places they had visited, the sights they had seen, and the things they had done. Her smiling face appeared in almost every photo as did the love shining brightly in her amethyst eyes. There was nothing he wouldn't do to have her look at him like that again.
His favorite pictures were also the most painful ones. Like the one where he had proposed. She'd been standing in front of a sign with the words Marry Me Callisto behind her in bright neon. The look on her face had been priceless when she turned to find him on bended knee, the engagement ring in his hand.
Then there were their wedding photos. Those were the hardest. They looked so young and happy. Madly in love and excited about starting a new life together. Callie had been radiant in a sexy as fuck white dress that had to be one of her designs. The same dress that had been soaked in her blood just a few hours later.
Fuck!
The trip down memory lane had been even worse than he could have imagined. Every shred of evidence to back up Baines's claims had been in the briefcase, and it was all damning as hell. His mother and Caruthers had hidden the truth from everyone. Hidden Callie and their marriage from him. Hidden their son from her.
Amnesia had robbed him of his memories, but his mother had stolen his fucking life. The fire of rebellion burned hotly, spurred on by raw hatred and an unquenchable need for revenge. It was time for the spiteful bitch to pay for her sins.
Ford had considered pressing charges against Madeline and Caruthers before he realized that a trial and the ensuing scandal would only hurt Callie and Scott. That was something he was not willing to do. The three of them had already suffered enough.
Baines had informed him that Malachi Black had already dealt with his mother's lapdog. He'd forced Caruthers to use his power of attorney to sign over all of Madeline's assets, including her shares in Hammersmith Construction to Scott as atonement. It wouldn't surprise him a bit if Caruthers also disappeared off the face of the earth.
When he had commented that his mother deserved to be imprisoned for the rest of her miserable life, Baines had offered to make it happen. How he didn't want to know. That the man actually knew someone who ran a psychiatric hospital and was shady enough to assist them was disturbing enough.
The best part was that Madeline could rant and rave all she wanted and no one would believe a word she said. Not when they thought she was insane. Ford assured himself that she had to be in order to do some of the things she had done. Having her falsely imprisoned was nothing short of poetic justice.
Yes, he could be the heartless bastard that Callie had once accused him of being. At least when it came to protecting her and their son. With that thought in mind, he picked up his phone and dialed the number that he would have sold his soul to have a week ago.
"It's been three days," the other man said instead of a greeting. "I was beginning to doubt you'd call."
"I just finished processing the film," he admitted and rubbed the back of his neck. Exhaustion had come and gone at some point and his second wind was beginning to fizzle out. Ford hadn't stopped to eat or sleep since he started on this journey, nor would he rest until it was complete. "Make the arrangements."
"You're sure you want to do this?" Baines asked.
"Yes," he confirmed with unwavering determination.
"This decision is irrevocable. There's no going back once it's done."
"It's better than she deserves," he said coldly and wasn't about to change his mind.
"Consider it done."
––––––––
Bastion
––––––––
Bastion was a firm believer in an eye for an eye. If you hurt someone he cared about, he would reciprocate in kind and put his personal twist on the retribution. Callie had wanted Madeline Hammersmith destroyed so he had vowed to make it happen. After what she'd done, it wasn't surprising that her son had been on board with the plan.
Callie had been kept unconscious and unaware of what was happening while everything she loved was stolen from her, but that was better than the Hammersmith bitch deserved. He wanted her to know that she had lost everything that mattered to her because knowing would make her suffering so much worse.
Malachi had drafted a statement that Caruthers delivered to the press to explain her disappearance. It was reported that the dignified Hammersmith family matriarch had been driving under the influence and crashed her car into a tree. The accident had left her with a traumatic brain injury and she would remain in a vegetative state for the rest of her life.
In actuality, the evil bitch now known as Subject A had been locked away in a less than sterile hospital for the mentally insane in a third world country where no one understood a word she said. Her permanent attire was a hospital gown while her perfectly colored and coiffed hair had been shorn to prevent lice infestation.
Without the aid of regular Botox injections, the muscles in her face began to function again and the wrinkles she had been desperate to hide reappeared. Once her hair started growing back it was her natural shade of steel gray. The mirrored walls of her room reflected her true self from every direction and there was no escaping what she had become.
She was not sedated and being cogent only increased her suffering.
Stripped of her pristine reputation, wealth, designer clothing, and cosmetic enhancements, and forced to live in solitude was the worst form of hell on earth for someone like her. Most days she was a raving lunatic, screaming and clawing at the walls until forcibly restrained. Other days she stared into space and drooled on her straightjacket. Poetic justice had been served.
But Bastion hadn't shown mercy to those who had aided her.
The private hospital where Callie and Ford were patients had been permanently shut down due to a toxic waste hazard that would keep them in court for a decade and bankrupt the facility in attorney fees. As to Caruthers and the corrupt doctor, their punishment was equally befitting of their crimes. But no one had asked what became of them, and Bastion would never tell.
His family was safe, and that was all that mattered.
When he'd first met Callie, she'd been terrified of him and men in general. Since he had lived through the same miserable childhood, he knew exactly how she had suffered and why. The fear in her big, amethyst eyes had ripped his heart out and he had vowed to replace it with happiness no matter what it took.
And he had.
Since nothing had ever made her as happy as Hammersmith, Bastion was resolved to ensure their reconciliation. As much as he hated to admit it, he was glad that he'd been wrong about the man. Even after all the hell that they had been through, the bastard really did love Callie enough to die for her. An overprotective older brother couldn't ask for more.
Now it was up to Hammersmith to repair the damage that had been done.
––––––––
Callie
––––––––
A week and a half had passed since Callie walked out of Ford's apartment. Ten days of emotional distress the likes of which she hadn't known were possible. Some days she handled it with stoic resolve, and some it was all she could do to survive from one breath to the next. Other days she vented her fury or just stayed in bed and cried.
Bastion had returned from New York and presented her with the charm necklace that her mother had given her. The precious keepsake that she had thought was lost forever. He explained that Ford had found it among the evidence Malachi had collected and asked that it be returned to her. Having it back meant more than she could say.
Bastion had also assured her that Ford had not known that Scott was her son. But he did now. He knew everything that the damn NDA had prevented her from telling him and she still hadn't heard from him. He hadn't tried to contact her since he'd discovered the truth, even though he had spoken to Bastion several times.
According to Bastion, Ford planned to explain the situation to their son and then contact her afterward. Maybe his continued silence was payback for not returning his calls. Maybe he didn't know what to say. Or maybe Scott just didn't want anything to do with her. After all, she was basically just a stranger who had given him life.
Callie began to wonder if she even had the right to insinuate herself into the child's life at this late stage. The truth was so ugly and she couldn't help wondering if her desire to be a part of his life could cause him irreparable harm. As much as she wanted to be his mother, she had to put his best interests first.
If that meant walking away then she would do it. It would destroy her, but she would do whatever it took to ensure Scott's happy little world remained intact. So, there she sat, alone and depressed, her mind tormented with every possible scenario of how this could play out, and the majority of them did not have a happy ending.
The door opened behind her, but she didn't bother to turn around. "You have a visitor," Bastion announced.
Callie merely shook her head and continued staring out at the Nevada skyline without seeing it. "I can't deal with people."
"You'll want to see this one," he predicted.
"Mom?" A young voice queried, the name sending a shockwave of emotions coursing through her. Her lips parted on a shocked gasp as she turned to face Scott. The child that she had borne and never knew. Dark, intense eyes so like his fathers were trained on her, freezing Callie in place. "You are my mom, aren't you Callie?"
Jesus. Hearing him ask that was a dream come true and her worst nightmare combined. This could either be everything she hoped for or the absolute worst-case scenario. Tears trickled down her cheeks and her entire body quaked with tremors as she forced herself to respond. "I am," she breathed brokenly while fervently praying that he didn't hate her.
Some of the tension left his small shoulders yet his serious expression never wavered. "Dad told me what happened," he imparted. "That you were in a coma like he was, and you didn't know about me. He said grandma took me away and kept me a secret because she didn't think you were good enough for us."
"I'm so sorry," she breathed brokenly. "I didn't know about you, Scott. I swear I didn't."
He cocked his head slightly and asked, "Would you have come to see me? If you'd known?"
Callie nodded vigorously, a sob threatening to choke her. "Nothing could have kept me away," she vowed and it took every ounce of strength she had to stay where she was. All she wanted to do was rush across the room, scoop him up in her arms, and never let go. "You would have never had to wonder what it was like to... to have a mom if I'd known."
"Do you want to be my mom?" He asked nervously.
"More than anything in the world," she confirmed. A split second later, a huge smile covered his face before he whooped with glee and made a mad dash toward her. Callie dropped to her knees, arms outstretched, and he ran right into them. She wrapped her arms around her son and hugged him almost as tightly as he was hugging her.
"I love you, Mom," the boy said happily, his face buried in her neck.
"I love you, Scotty," she sobbed brokenly through a smile. "So very much."
"Now that I've found you, I'm never letting you go," he vowed as he leaned back to look at her.
"Ditto, kiddo," she laughed happily.
His expression concerned; small hands gently wiped the tears from her face. "I'm sorry, Mom. I didn't mean to make you cry," the boy apologized anxiously.
Callie offered him a watery smile to ease his fears and said, "Sometimes moms cry when they're happy."
The nine-year-old looked equal parts appalled and relieved. "I've got a lot to learn about moms."
"And I've got a lot to learn about sons," she admitted as a fresh wave of tears leaked from her eyes. "I'm so glad we get to learn together."
"Dad can help us," Scott assured her and her momentary elation died as fast as Ford's erection at the mention of Bimini.
"Where is your dad?" She asked warily because she knew that he had not let their son come to visit her alone.
"Right here," that smooth as sin voice said quietly from the doorway. Her hold on Scott tightened instinctively, irrationally afraid that his father would take him away from her.
"You were right, Dad," the boy announced cheerfully as he turned his head toward the door. "Mom wants to be my mom!"
"I knew she would," Ford confirmed with a smile and slid his hands into his pockets. "Scott, can I talk to your mom now?"
"Okay," the boy agreed and wiggled out of her embrace. "But she cries when she's happy so don't freak and think you've done something wrong."
"Good to know. Thanks, bud," he said as his son walked past him and out of the room.
When Ford turned to close the door, Callie rose to her feet and faced the man who held the power to make or break her relationship with their son. Before he had a chance to speak, she went on a pre-emptive strike and announced, "I want my son."
He turned to face her; expression solemn. "I know you do."
"I won't let you keep him from me again." Now that she knew Scott wanted her to be his mother, there was nothing in heaven or hell that would prevent her from doing so.
"I'd never try to."
Hysterical laughter bubbled up in her throat and the reason for it enraged her. "Yet you did," she accused and all of the pent-up rage and anguish that had been brewing inside of her spewed forth in a torrent of words. "They used the scar from the accident that we were in to remove my son from my body without my knowledge!"
"Your mother stole my baby and kept him from me for nine years!" She accused venomously. "Nine fucking years, Ford! I've missed out on everything. I'll never know what it felt like to have him growing inside of me. To hear his first words, see his first steps, and all the other precious moments that I can never get back."
"I know exactly how you feel," he agreed calmly.
"Don't patronize me," she snapped bitterly and was not in the mood to be placated. "You can't possibly know how I feel."
"I do because that's how I feel about the time with you that I've forgotten," he confessed and the anguish in his eyes softened her anger because she knew that he really did understand. "My mother is responsible for tearing us apart, Callie. She made all of our lives hell for her own selfish reasons. I'm not willing to let her win, are you?"
"What the hell does that even mean?" She demanded and sank heavily into a chair, weary to the bone now that her anger had been spent.
"She used the accident to her advantage," he explained. "She managed to get rid of you, gain an heir, and force me to act like a responsible adult all in one fell swoop. She played God and I'm thrilled that the truth finally came out. That bitch stole a decade of happiness from us, but there is no fucking way I'm going to let her ruin our future together."
Ford walked across the room and knelt at her feet, her engagement and wedding rings sparkling brightly in the palm of his hand. "Be my wife, Callie."
Of all the scenarios that had played through her mind, this one hadn't even been a consideration. Tears filled her eyes as laughter bubbled up in her throat. Callie knew she was on the verge of hysteria and at this point, she didn't care. "You're doing this so you don't have to share custody?"
"I'm doing it because I love you," Ford clarified. "I have always loved you, and I will always love you. You're the missing part of me, Callisto Rose Hayes Hammersmith. I want my wife and the mother of my son back. Please say you'll come home with us and make our lives complete."
The love and sincerity shining in his dark eyes was her undoing. All of the pain and anger drained away as if they had never been because once again, Ford was just as much of a victim as she was. Yes, she absolutely loved him enough to marry him again, her only concern was how their son would react. "What about Scott? Maybe we should..."
"He's thrilled with the idea, and if you turn me down it will break his heart," he admitted with a hint of his wicked smile.
"So, no pressure, right?" She tried to joke as fresh tears slid down her cheeks. Knowing that the boy wanted her to be his mother in every sense of the word was both thrilling and terrifying. "Are you sure you want to do this again? It didn't end well the last time."
"Actually, it didn't end at all," he admitted. "We're still married."
It took all of three seconds for that to sink in before she screeched, "What?!"
"According to Malachi, the annulment is just as fraudulent as everything else they tricked you into signing," he explained seriously before his smile became truly wicked. "So, what do you say, Mrs. Hammersmith. Wanna play house with me?"
Sheer joy bubbled through her veins until she was drunk with it. "Hell, yes," she readily agreed and extended her trembling hand. He slid the rings onto her finger and she saw that he was already wearing his wedding band. Then he cupped her tear-stained cheeks and worshiped her mouth with his.
"I love you more than words can say, Ford," Callie confessed tearfully. "Being your wife and Scott's mother is the greatest gift I could ever ask for."
"When I woke up in that hospital, with no memory of why or how, it was terrifying. I'd lost months of my life, time that I'd never get back, and it didn't seem real. But I always felt as if I'd lost something significant. That something vitally essential was missing. Now I know that something was you," Ford said solemnly and placed his hand over her chest where he claimed his heart lay. "My mind might have forgotten what we shared, Callie, but my heart didn't. My heart never forgot you."
Tears of joy overflowed as she pressed her palm against his chest where the heart she had given him beat steadily. Leaning in close until her lips brushed his, she teased, "And that's why I'm still hopelessly in love with a heartless bastard."
––––––––
The End
––––––––
Want to keep up with all of the new releases in Vi Keeland and Penelope Ward's Cocky Hero Club world? Make sure you sign up for the official Cocky Hero Club newsletter for all the latest on our upcoming books:
https://www.subscribepage.com/CockyHeroClub
Check out other books in the Cocky Hero Club series:
