by Barb Han
She was pregnant.
Chapter Two
“Close the garage door, please.” Alyssa glanced around like she expected someone to jump out from behind a box. The desperation in her voice tried to put a chink in his armor. Not happening.
The fact Blake had fallen for her once and had the scars to prove it was enough of a deterrent to keep him from going down that road again.
“Give me one reason to listen to you,” he said. Yeah, he was being stubborn, but he didn’t exactly have a reason to trust her. Her blue eyes were huge. Her chestnut hair was shoulder-length now and just as beautiful.
At five feet five inches, she came in at average height, but that’s where typical ended for Alyssa. She’d been the real deal; intelligence, sense of humor and the kind of inside-out beauty that had left him speechless. And still did if he was being completely honest.
“What’s wrong, Blake?” She cradled her bump and stared at him like she was shocked at his reaction.
“What did you expect, Alyssa? A welcome-home speech? A hug? You walked out on me without a word—”
“What are you talking about?” Confusion knitted her brows together. She quickly recovered, looking around like she was in a horror movie.
He walked over and tapped the garage door button so it would close. She could walk out the front door this time if she wanted to leave him.
Without another word, and mainly because he needed a second to pull himself together, he turned and walked inside the townhouse. He left the door open, figuring she could do what she wanted.
Since sleep didn’t seem like it was happening anytime soon, Blake walked over to the fridge and grabbed a cold brew coffee. Normally he’d put on a pot, but he didn’t expect her to stick around.
By the time he unscrewed the lid and turned around, she’d stepped into the hallway and closed the door behind her.
“You don’t seem happy to see me. Or worried.” The shock and disappointment in her voice caught him off guard. “They said if word got out about me there’d be trouble.” She stared at him blankly. She practically mumbled and he had to strain to hear her. “No, they used the word heat. There’d be heat.”
Blake forced his feelings of frustration and anger aside. He took a good look at the pregnant woman standing in his hallway. She wasn’t wearing shoes. She stood there in her socks. She had on a maternity T-shirt and jeans. Her belly looked like she was ready to pop. And she was dirty, head to toe.
He also realized she smelled like...
Out of consideration for her feelings and respect for their past, he decided not to name the scent. It was a far cry from the citrusy clean he was used to and missed.
“It looks like you’re in some kind of trouble.” His words came out a little harsher than he wanted. He took a sip of coffee and a deep breath. “Let’s start over. Why are you here?”
“Because you’re my husband and I thought you’d be worried about me.” She looked at him like he had two heads.
“Was your husband. You divorced me,” he corrected.
“Why would I do that?”
“You tell me and we’ll both know,” he fired back a little too quickly. Blake raked a hand through his hair before taking another sip. “Obviously, you’re in some kind of trouble. Can I call someone?”
She shook her head. “There is no one, Blake.”
At least she got his name right.
A fleeting thought she might be playing a twisted joke on him shot another round of anger through him. He reminded himself no one he’d cared about could be that cruel.
“You’re pregnant. Is that why you left me? Was it for the baby’s father?” He couldn’t help but ask. This situation pretty much ranked right up there with the most bizarre of his life, and the pain nearly gutted him.
“If that was the reason, I’d still be here. It’s your baby, Blake.” More of that hurt and confusion laced her tone.
There had to be a logical explanation for his ex-wife showing up at his home, pregnant, after walking out and filing divorce papers months ago. Did the real father walk out and now she was trying to circle back and take some of the O’Connor family fortune? Blake dismissed the thought. She hadn’t asked for one red cent in the divorce, which had been finalized. The Alyssa he knew would be too proud to come begging for money even if she was desperate. She was resourceful and would find a way. Losing her dad had taken a toll on her and their marriage.
Since she wasn’t the type of person to rub his nose in the fact that their relationship had failed, he had no idea what she was really doing on his doorstep. He couldn’t help but think that he’d failed in some way and yet he’d racked his brain trying to solve that puzzle for weeks after she’d bolted.
“You said you needed time, Alyssa. I gave it to you.” And those were the last words said between husband and wife before she took off and he’d been served papers.
It took a few seconds to register that she’d said he was the father. He didn’t know a whole lot about pregnancies and yet he wondered if it was possible.
“How far along are you?” he asked, knowing she could very well lie. It wasn’t her style. She’d rather walk away like she had before.
“Eight months? Nine? I have to be getting close...right?” She cradled her bump, cocked her head to one side, and then studied him. She’d served him divorce papers six months ago after walking out almost two months prior to that. And, yeah, they’d had a physical relationship. A damn good one. The timing couldn’t be ignored, and a quick test could prove paternity.
“I’m sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t have come here.” Alyssa brought her hand up to her head, rubbing her temple.
The hell she was getting away from him after dropping that bomb.
“Start at the beginning and tell me everything that happened to lead you to my doorstep today.” He motioned toward a pair of chairs tucked underneath a lip of the granite island. She’d insisted on a white kitchen when they’d picked out the place.
She’d fallen in love with the townhouse after they’d married. The open floorplan and white kitchen with stainless steel appliances had sold her before she made it upstairs to see a pair of bedrooms and an office.
“I don’t remember a whole lot, actually.” She shook her head and stayed firmly positioned next to the garage door, looking like she might bolt if someone said “Boo.”
Switching to cop mode, he acknowledged that he needed to distance himself from his personal feelings if he wanted answers. Softening his stance and his tone, he asked, “Would you like a glass of water?”
She nodded and pressed her lips into a thin line. With her arms cradling her bump and a determined set to her chin, he’d put her on the defensive.
His bad. He retrieved a glass of water and filled it from the tap. Instead of walking it over to her, he set it down on the granite island in front of a bar chair. “Okay to put it here?”
This time, she nodded before walking over and taking a seat. She took a sip of water and then held on to the glass, rolling it around in her hands.
Keeping her gaze trained on the lines in the white granite, she said, “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” he shot back a little too quickly. Maintaining the facade that he wasn’t affected by her sitting in his kitchen again wasn’t going so well.
“Whatever it was I did that put that scowl on your face when you look at me.”
Damned if those words didn’t score a direct hit and shatter some of his resolve.
* * *
ALYSSA WISHED LIKE anything that she could remember what had happened. She’d tried to cover up just how devastated she was by Blake’s rejection but that was impossible.
Everything in her heart said they were still in love. Showing up here, hiding until he came home, had led to the second biggest shock of her day—learning they were divorced.
Blake look
ed at her like he didn’t believe the baby was his. She might not remember a whole lot right now, but she knew in her bones this baby belonged to Blake.
And yet she couldn’t ignore the shocked look on his face when he’d found out she was pregnant. The surprises were adding up today. None of them were good.
Looking at him with his six feet three inches of solid muscle and dark roast eyes, her heart free-fell. It suddenly occurred to her that as good as he looked with his made-from-granite jawline and high cheekbones, she was quite the opposite. All grunge and dirt.
To top it off, she smelled so bad that she could smell herself. Ripe didn’t begin to cover it and her clothes were literally crunchy.
Running toward the man she loved—and she knew without a doubt that she loved Blake—wasn’t supposed to end with him being shocked about the pregnancy and her learning they were divorced. Confusion settled in as the place that was supposed to be her safe haven had just become hell. And all she could say was, “I should go.”
“Where?” His stone face was unreadable now.
“I’m not sure. Anywhere would be better than here.” She hadn’t meant to say those words out loud despite the fact they were true.
He drew back like she’d slapped him in the face. A few seconds later, he released the breath he’d been holding, slowly, like he was twisting a release valve.
“How did you get here?” He started asking practical questions and she could tell he had gone into cop mode. It was probably a good idea to put some emotional distance between them, except that every muscle inside her body wanted to reach out to him, touch him, feel the comfort she’d always felt when she was close to him—comfort that was burned into her muscle memory.
She took another sip of water. “I hitchhiked.”
The sharp intake of air caused her to look up at him.
“Before you tell me how dangerous that was, I barely escaped a trailer with two men having a conversation about who was going to torture me to get me to talk. Hitchhiking was the least of my problems,” she noted.
The look of shock on his face was followed by him studying her intently. “Fair point. Any idea where this trailer park is located?”
“I had the driver pull off at a gas station nearby where I requested a clerk call the police and send them to a blue-and-white trailer in Bendy Park off the highway. It was the only one I saw with a red awning, but I didn’t exactly stick around once I broke up enough of the floor to climb out. There was about a four-foot clearance underneath and a white lattice that I managed to move enough to slip out.” It all sounded so surreal when she heard herself talk about it. Like it was some crazy dream that she’d wake up from any minute.
Blake scanned her and she figured he was looking for injuries or a sign of sexual assault.
“I have a bruise the size of Phoenix on my right hip but came to in the trailer with my clothes on. All except for my favorite pair of boots that I’m certain I had on,” she explained, her pulse racing as the nightmare-worthy memory resurfaced.
“What about other injuries?” he asked.
Oh, right. “My head. I felt around and found a pump knot along with some dried blood.”
“A hit to the head could explain your confusion and memory loss.” He’d moved to his laptop and opened it. “I’m guessing you haven’t seen a doctor.”
“They’re planning to hurt me or worse and I immediately came here.” She cradled her bump. “I thought they might have someone waiting at a hospital and decided not to go anywhere they could easily find me.”
Blake stood there and stared at her like he was looking right through her. He could practically read her mind in the past and they’d joked about having a mental connection that made words unnecessary at times, but that was before. Her brains were so scrambled now she couldn’t even remember what had happened to their marriage—a marriage that was one of the first things she’d thought about when she’d opened her eyes and realized she was in trouble.
He motioned toward her stomach. “I’m guessing that’s the reason. There are half a dozen baby rings operating in south Texas.” His gaze faltered when he asked, “Boy or girl?”
“Does it matter?” she asked. The baby-ring idea didn’t mesh with what she’d overheard. “They said something about getting information from me.”
“Okay, I can take your statement here. And I can bring a doctor to the house,” he started, and she noticed he didn’t answer her question.
She put a hand up to stop him.
“The men in the trailer said there’d be a lot of heat if people realized I was missing. I thought they meant because of you. But if we’re divorced, why would you care?” She couldn’t figure that one out.
“I’m sure they have their reasons,” he stated and the coldness in his voice shot right through her.
“Don’t worry, I won’t be a burden to you. I’ll find a place to stay.” She didn’t bother to hide her defensiveness.
“It’s not safe for you to leave if you don’t have somewhere to go and, besides, you’re a witness. I need you here to collect more information so these jerks can be tracked down and stopped.” He was being reasonable whereas she was wrung out from emotion and his rejection.
“I’ll find another place to stay after I give you my statement.” She didn’t say, where I’m wanted, even though the words came to mind.
“Alyssa, I’d like you to stay here until we can figure out what’s going on.” Those words, spoken with compassion instead of judgment, made her rethink the snappy response on her tongue trying to escape.
“Okay.” She had no idea where that word came from when all her warning sirens were going off inside her head with the shock of a spring tornado on an otherwise sunny day. Staying with him made sense, but could she?
Chapter Three
“I guess not.” If the baby was Blake’s it would have the same rights as every O’Connor. The sex of the child made no difference. It was curiosity he couldn’t afford to let take hold until he had confirmation the child was his.
Did he doubt Alyssa’s word?
Considering the fact she couldn’t remember where she was yesterday or how she’d ended up in a trailer alone with two men intent on hurting her, Blake had reservations about her having some type of brain trauma. If she was in her right mind would he doubt the baby was his? The timeline fit and, despite his hurt, he didn’t think she would lie about something this important. But where had she been and why had she been keeping the pregnancy from him? First things first, he needed to get her out of present danger and lock away the bastards who’d been at the trailer.
“I’m off duty but I can make a call to see what happened at the trailer after you left.” He looked at her, trying to ignore how much his pulse raced while she was in the same room and how much he wanted to haul her into his arms and make reassurances he couldn’t guarantee.
She nodded. “I’d appreciate it.”
The bastards might already be in jail. Problem solved.
Blake fished out his cell. He planned to call his friend and former partner, Liz Roark. Since he’d switched to the night shift, he’d been stuck with a rookie ever since. The area of town Alyssa had described was Liz’s beat. It was possible she’d taken the call from Dispatch, but that was probably hoping too much.
He hit her name in his contacts and put the call on speaker. She answered on the first ring.
“Aren’t you supposed to be home with your face stuffed in a pillow by now, O’Connor?” Liz asked.
Alyssa bristled at the closeness between him and Liz. She’d never said anything directly, but he’d had the sense she didn’t like their relationship. Blake didn’t figure this was the time to remind Alyssa that she’d been the one to walk out and shut the door on their relationship or that he’d never once flirted or cheated.
Cops were extended family and had each other’s backs in
life-and-death situations. The job required a closeness unlike most professions.
“Sleep had to wait. I have Alyssa here and you’re on speaker.” It was that moment he realized he should’ve prepared Liz better.
“Oh.” There was a whole conversation in that one little word and a whole lot of disapproval. Then a whole lot of silence.
“There was a call.” He looked to Alyssa for a timeframe. She held up a lone finger. “About an hour ago. It would’ve come from a convenience store clerk asking for a check on a trailer in Bendy Park off the highway.”
“Ah, right. Farley took that one. Why?”
“What can you tell me about it?” he asked.
“Not much. There was no answer when Farley knocked on the door. No vehicles in front of the blue-and-white building. Then, when Farley was pulling away, he saw two guys exit the trailer and take off running. They were average height and weight, both Caucasian males described as having dark hair and wearing jeans and hoodies. They must have had a vehicle stashed nearby because Farley gave chase, but they disappeared like ghosts,” she informed.
“And the trailer? What condition was it in?” he asked.
“Honestly? The place looked like it was used for trafficking. The back bedroom had an old mattress, and someone pulled up the flooring in order to climb out. Pretty smart actually but I can’t imagine going underneath with all those spiders.” She made a shudder-like noise.
Blake confirmed Alyssa’s story as she sat there. Her chin jutted out as she listened, like hearing the details again wouldn’t break her in the least. Strength was another one of those amazing traits of hers that he didn’t want to think too much about.
“Any idea who these perps were?” he asked.
“Not in the least. Farley has been trying to track down the manager of the park to see who owns or rents the trailer. My guess is that he won’t get far.”
Alyssa’s shoulders deflated. She had to be uncomfortable in those dirty clothes and the fact she hadn’t been able to take a shower in—who knew how long?—must have her wanting to scrub herself down with just about anything she could get her hands on.