image
image
image

Chapter Thirty-One

image

Finn

The room Charles assigned to us belongs in a museum. Historical eras aren’t my thing, but it’s clear this place hasn’t had any facelift since the house was built, which was probably a hundred years ago. From the doorway, everything seems clean enough, and nothing smells like mothballs or mildew. I sigh. These thoughts are just a distraction from the fucking fertility circus downstairs. A poor effort to calm the hell down, and it’s not working.

As I close the bedroom door, I realize I should say something to Carys, but I don’t have any idea where to start. My blood boils, rage coursing through me at Eric and her father creating this child without her consent. When she was at her lowest, they tricked her into signing away her rights to her future children. Their motives are inconceivable to me—and I’ve done a lot of shitty things in the name of profit or revenge. But this? Their plan is so misguided. How could either of them think a baby was the right solution?

My brain spent the whole conversation ticking through the complications. The situation is a fucking nightmare. Eric may be the only legal parent. There’s no way I’m saying that to Carys because we don’t know if the baby is biologically hers. Eric or her father could try to bluff through this or outright lie. Wherever we get the DNA tested in the morning, I’m following the kit like a bloodhound. They won’t trick her again.

If they’re lying? God won’t be able to help them. Whether she wants them dead or alive, I’ll be making them dig their own graves before I put a bullet between their eyes. To dangle motherhood in front of her and then snatch it away is unforgivable. Un-fucking-forgivable.

“You’re very quiet.” Carys’s voice is hardly audible in the room.

There’s a knock on the door, and I gather my thoughts while I go to open it. At the entrance, Jay passes me our bags. Worry is splashed across his face, and I shake my head. I don’t have the slightest clue what to tell him. With a sigh, I close the door and set our luggage on the floor.

“Can you please talk to me?” she says.

Over my shoulder, I see her hand shake as she raises it to her hair. Fuck. What am I supposed to say? What do I do? I’m not this guy. Kill them? I can do that. No problem. Talk about feelings? So much harder.

“Why don’t you tell me what you’re thinking?” My voice is gruffer than I mean it to be.

“What if it isn’t the same thing you’re thinking?”

“That matters?” I shove my hands into my pockets. Maybe if I’d gone to therapy as a kid like Lorcan’s mother wanted, I’d be better at this. Instead I’m fumbling around in the dark. And not the fun kind of fumbling.

She takes a shaky breath. “I was happy. I had you. If I have this baby, I’m afraid I won’t have you. It just—” her voice cracks, “seems so unfair. I might finally have the two things I want, but I have to choose which one I want more.”

There’s no choice. I heard what she said to Opal the other day. She’d never abandon her child for a man, not like her mother did. Could I ask that of her? No, I couldn’t. Even though not asking would kill me.

“As long as you want me, I’m here.” I stand in front of her, out of reach.

She closes the gap and wraps her arms around my waist. “I want to be with you forever. That was my plan. Would you—could you raise that baby as your own?”

I clear my throat. “You’re suggesting I could be a father to your child?”

She nods against my chest.

With a sigh, I draw her tight against me. “I’ll be a shit dad, Carys. But if you want me, I’ll do my damnedest.”

“Really?”

I don’t want to go in circles, and the complete truth about where my head is at isn’t helpful. Did I want to be a dad? Not really. Will I walk away from her because she has a kid? Not a fucking chance.

Right now, I need to understand where her mind is at so I can figure out what I can do, what I should do to make that happen. “Logistics aside, what would you want from this situation if you could have it?”

Silence hangs in the room for a moment. “I’d have you. I’d get custody of this baby from Eric. We’d move to Cape Verde and set up a low-risk venture and raise him together. When I think of myself five years from now, that’s what I want. You. Me. Lucas. On an island. So unbelievably happy.”

My heart squeezes in my chest. Her idea is so vivid I can almost close my eyes and put myself there, insert myself in her version of our life.

But in what world can that future happen? Eric was confident in her hotel room this maneuver would draw her back to him. She won’t leave her child. He won’t give up the child, his leverage, without a fight.

“That sounds perfect,” I murmur into the top of her head. It does. Will the image of what might have been have to sustain me while I watch her live her life from afar? What might have been... What could have been... If only...

Because if they force her to make a choice. Well, for her, there’s no choice at all.

~ * ~

image

Galina looks like a woman who gave birth two days ago. Darkness sits under her eyes from a lack of sleep, and her brown hair lies limp around her shoulders. Her middle is still expanded, as though there might be another baby in there.

Christ. I hope there’s not another fucking baby in there.

“Breastfeeding is hard work,” she says to Carys once we’ve introduced ourselves.

“I’m sure,” Carys murmurs and focuses on her purse.

Last night, while lying in bed, I selected a DNA testing facility which guaranteed same-day results. We’re waiting for the cars to be ready to get us there. Eric and Charles aren’t getting near the scientific process. The facility agreed I can guard the DNA throughout the day. Only cost a few grand. Seems cheap for our peace of mind.

Carys threw up in the bathroom this morning. The sight of her makes my chest ache. The natural confidence radiating out of her is weighed down by today’s outcome. Either result has grave consequences.

She told me she doesn’t want to hold the baby again until she knows for sure he’s hers.

As though reading my mind, Galina says, “Carys, I’m sorry. You must want to hold him.”

Carys looks up, startled, and before she can say anything, I step in. “I’ll take him,” I say.

Galina frowns. “Eric said you weren’t to hold Lucas.”

Without meeting Galina’s gaze, Carys says, “He’s my baby, too. I say he can.”

Aw. Shit. I don’t want to hold him. The number of babies I’ve held in my life could be counted on two fingers. Galina shifts her grip and passes him to me. I hold out my hands and catch Carys watching me out of the corner of her eye. The smallest smile floats across her face. She’s got to be laughing on the inside at how fucking awkward I am right now.

He’s so tiny sitting in the crook of my arm, a swell of protectiveness runs through me. To think part of Carys might have become this tiny little man makes my heart pound. The baby yawns, and I glance at her. She’s watching me and him with so much longing I regret saying I’d hold him. I was trying to make this morning easier, and now I’m worried I’ve made her day so much harder.

“I wish—” she says.

“I know.” The pain in those two words is enough.

She nods and turns away.

Footsteps echo through the rear of the house, and I juggle the baby trying to give him to Galina before Eric can show up. Carys doesn’t need a fight on top of everything else. My temper is lit, ready to explode. If he says the wrong thing to her, I’m likely to snap his neck. I still might get the pleasure if Eric has lied about this baby’s parentage.

“All set?” Charles comes through the living room and into the entryway.

“You don’t need to come,” Carys says, half-turning toward him.

“Nonsense. Eric and I are coming to celebrate. My first and probably only grandchild.”

She rubs her forehead, and I ease my hand across her shoulders. She shifts closer to me and seeks shelter in my arms. I keep focused on Charles as I kiss her temple. He frowns and turns away.

Jay pokes his head in the front door. “We’re all set. Car seat installed. Everybody in. We gotta be there in an hour.”

We’re almost at the car when heavy footsteps sound behind us. I was hoping we’d be gone before Eric tagged along.

“Ah,” Charles says with a grin. “Here you are. I was afraid we’d have to leave without you.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Eric smiles and tries to catch Carys’s gaze.

She turns her face more into my chest. His gaze connects with mine instead, and his eyes narrow. “You’re going to have that satisfied smirk wiped off today.”

Carys stiffens in my arms.

I chuckle. “You know who else has a satisfied smirk these days?” When he doesn’t answer, I continue, “Carys. Whatever happens today, that will always be true. I’ve satisfied her in ways you never could.”

With that, Jay opens our car door with a flourish and Carys enters first. When I glance over my shoulder, Eric and Charles are deep in conversation. Eric’s cheeks are red with anger, and Charles is trying to calm him down.

“Should you have done that?” Carys asks when I settle beside her.

I shrug. “Was I wrong?”

“No.”

“Then he needs to realize he isn’t winning you back. He’s cheating. He’s trapping you into something you don’t want anymore. He’s no hero. I’m not letting him walk around pretending he’s some kinda savior.”

She undoes her seatbelt and slips across the backseat bench. Her hand slides along my leg and she rests her ear against my chest. “I love this sound.” Her other hand is against my heart. “I want to hear it forever.”

I secure her close to me and kiss the top of her head. The selfishness I can’t seem to shake rears its head. At the back of my mind is the mantra: Please don’t let Lucas be her child.