Sweet Forgiveness

by Jean Oram

  “Where is he staying?” The blade pressed closer.

  “I don’t know. I’m sorry. Really. I went looking today, but I’ve mostly been trying to avoid him and the trouble that follows.” Ashton met Morty’s eye, relieved when the man’s showed a glitter of amusement.

  “I see that’s worked out well for you.” He lowered the knife, taking half a step back. His feet were braced and he was clearly ready to make a move as soon as Ashton did.

  Ashton didn’t plan on moving until the man and his vehicle were long gone.

  “You have a woman covering for you,” Morty stated.

  Ashton knew better than to reply, and he hoped his face didn’t show the fear he felt for Zoe. But Morty was smart, and Ashton could see it in his gaze and the way it flicked over him, catching nuances in his body language.

  “Send Quentin to me,” Morty said in a low voice, thick with meaning, “and she won’t get hurt.”

  “He’s not answering my calls,” Ashton said. “And the woman has nothing to do with this.”

  “No,” Morty said, stepping back into Ashton’s face with a wave of stale breath. “She has everything to do with this if I don’t get what I want.”

  “What is it you want?” Ashton spoke directly. He needed this resolved so he could move on with his life. His life with Zoe.

  Safely.

  Everything over and done with.

  “Quentin knows,” Morty said grimly. His footsteps were heavy on the cottage’s weathered steps as he moved to his SUV, which sent shells flying as he spun out of the driveway and into the darkening night.

  Chapter 8

  Ashton had spent hours pacing his rented cottage. He’d called the police, but it turned out Zoe already had on his behalf—he’d left her a voice mail warning her about Morty when she didn’t pick up. The police had said to call if Morty or Quentin tried to contact him again, and that they’d put out an all points bulletin for Quentin and Jaelyn. He’d requested they watch Zoe’s house, too, but they were understaffed for a 24/7 watch, though they’d promised to check in on her whenever they could.

  Beyond that, Ashton didn’t know what to do. He’d left yet another message on Quentin’s phone, but hadn’t heard back. There was no point hiding from Morty now that the man had found him. And there was definitely no reason to make Zoe an even bigger target by going to her house to talk.

  Ashton lay on his bed, fully clothed, and tugged the blanket up to his shoulders, listening to rain approach on the wind, then move on. Around one in the morning there was a knock at his door. He froze for a moment, contemplating his options; before he got out of bed and hurried through the cottage to look out the window.

  It was Quentin standing on his front porch, looking as antsy as a raccoon being circled by a pack of wolves.

  “Where have you been?” Ashton demanded as he opened the door. The salty, earthy smell of ocean and rain entered on a breeze. “I’ve been trying to call you.”

  “I have to lie low for a while,” the man said, his eyes shifting as quickly as his weight moved from foot to foot.

  “Lay low?” Ashton was unable to prevent the contempt from edging into his voice. Quentin was supposed to be a good dad for Jaelyn. Good dads who’d cleaned up their lives didn’t have to lie low. They also didn’t come to someone’s door at one in the morning unless they were seeking children’s Tylenol.

  Quentin looked up, his Adam’s apple bobbing, his eyes big. He looked scared. “Yeah. For a while.”

  “You’re a dad.”

  “I know.”

  “You took Jaelyn from me. You said you wanted a clean life. That you were ready.”

  “I know.”

  “But you brought Morty to my door, and I hate to think what kind of life you’re creating for Jaelyn. Morty’s threatened me and my girlfriend because of you. And this would be the same girlfriend I had to leave in order to fix the big mess you left Maliki in.” Ashton stepped onto the lit porch, sending moths fluttering around the light above him. Quentin backed away to the edge of the steps. “And now you’re here messing things up once again. I don’t know what’s happening with you and Morty, only that it’s encroaching into my life. Again.”

  “Jaelyn needs you,” Quentin said, his head bowed.

  Ashton hesitated, the anger that was building inside him shifting to roiling frustration. He wanted to tell Quentin to take a hike and to stop messing with his life. But Jaelyn… She was an innocent in all this and deserved a perfect, secure life.

  He wanted to flatten Quentin, then haul him back up onto his feet and force him to be the man Jaelyn deserved.

  Quentin reached inside his leather jacket, then handed Ashton a large, thick envelope.

  “What’s this?”

  “Your name is still on her birth certificate.”

  Ashton tried to pass the papers back. “You said you were going to file the change after we saw the notary.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “What game are you playing?”

  “I tried.” Quentin bounced from foot to foot. “I tried playing it straight, and being a dad. And I can’t. I just can’t. My daughter deserves better. She deserves her real father.”

  “Then be that man.”

  “She deserves you. You stepped up when I didn’t.” Quentin glanced over his shoulder. “Can I come in?”

  Ashton widened his stance. “Why?”

  “Are you going to take her, or do I need to abandon her?” Quentin’s movements had become even more agitated.

  “You’re serious.” Ashton’s heart was starting to hammer.

  “I’ve got to lay low, man. Like, right now. Jae deserves a proper life, not what I have to offer.”

  “If you’re saying what I think you are…how am I supposed to keep her safe? You made me a target.”

  Quentin was shaking his head furiously. “No. No. I’ll pay my debts. I just have to…quietly earn back the cash I owe. He won’t have a reason to come after her. But I can’t do this and be a good dad.”

  Ashton cursed under his breath. Quentin might actually be putting Jaelyn’s needs ahead of everything. But after all the hurt Ashton had gone through over the past few months, only to have it all reversed on him…he wasn’t certain he could bear it if Quentin reclaimed Jaelyn again. And he surely would. Again and again, because Ashton was a nice guy who fixed things, and a man who couldn’t say no where Jaelyn’s safety and well-being was concerned. And Quentin knew it.

  “I’m not interested in taking her just to have you come along and whisk her away again,” Ashton explained steadily. “That’s no way for a kid to grow up.”

  “I signed over my rights.” Quentin was soberly staring at the envelope in Ashton’s hands.

  Ashton opened the end of the envelope and pulled out the contents. There were a lot of official looking papers, several of them with the logo of a Charleston lawyer. His mouth felt dry. This was what he wanted, but it still felt wrong somehow.

  “You can come back at any time and have all of this reversed,” he said hoarsely. “I’m not interested in being jerked around.”

  He went to shove the papers at Quentin, but the man moved down the steps, opening the back door of his car. He ducked inside as he said, “I won’t be coming back. Not this time.”

  “How can I be sure?” Ashton found himself moving closer to the vehicle.

  Quentin straightened, his expression one of determination, a sleepy Jaelyn in his arms. She saw Ashton and her face broke into a big, toothy grin as she squealed, “Da!” She lunged forward, arms outstretched.

  With resignation, Quentin said, “You’ll always be her real dad.”

  And as Ashton reached for the little girl, he knew the man was right.

  Zoe kept pacing the area behind her guest services desk. She hadn’t been able to sleep, and the idea of the police cruising by her home all night to check on her was unsettling. So at the crack of dawn she’d given up and come in to work.

  But she couldn’t sit still, coul
dn’t wrap her mind around the fact that Ashton had let her walk away last night. No, pushed her away. Again.

  He’d said he was trying to protect her, but that’s not how relationships worked. Her parents didn’t shut each other out and they were the gold standard when it came to relationships. Ashton just wasn’t willing to let Zoe in when it really mattered.

  “You’re here extra early,” said a familiar voice. “Which is great because I have some good news to share.”

  Zoe glanced over to find Dallas on the other side of her desk, grinning at her. She checked the clock as his smile faded. It was only seven-fifteen. It was going to be a long day.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  She brightened falsely, smoothing her khakis. “Yes, of course. What’s the good news?”

  Dallas paused before saying, “You know that big wedding you were hoping to land here at the resort? Well…” He held out his arms. “Guess what? I just signed a contract with the happy couple. They’ll be phoning you later today to work on details.”

  Zoe wanted to be excited. The last time she’d helped coordinate something large had been at Christmas, when Luke Cohen and Emma Carrington had filled the town with close to five hundred guests, booking just about every room and cottage in the resort, as well as several other places in town. She’d worked with Luke’s assistant, Alexa McTavish, to ensure everything went smoothly with the party over at the Portia House mansion, and the experience had been a fun challenge. But today she simply didn’t have the energy to even contemplate handling such a large event.

  “It sounds like you may become the resort’s official wedding coordinator if these contracts keep continuing.”

  “Yeah, of course. Great,” she said absently, as she shifted from foot to foot. How could she continue to coordinate something like this when she didn’t even know what it was like to find someone committed enough to actually make it down the aisle with her?

  She used to strive to give her brides and grooms the perfect launch into marital harmony and wedded bliss, but now it felt as if every happy couple was rubbing salt in her wounds and pointing big, flashing arrows at the one thing she’d never have.

  Dallas began humming the “Wedding March” and Zoe tumbled into her office chair, her eyes welling with tears.

  “Overcome with gratitude and excitement?”

  “Yeah, it’s great.” Her voice sounded high-pitched and pained.

  “What’s wrong?” Dallas asked. He leaned against her desk, his brow furrowing with concern.

  “Nothing,” Zoe said, wiping her cheeks as tears overflowed.

  “That’s not nothing.”

  “I’m fine, really.”

  “Is this about—”

  “It’s fine,” Zoe said, a bit sharply.

  Dallas gave her a long look, hands raised, before walking away, saying over his shoulder, “You know where I am if you need anything.”

  Why was she falling apart? She’d known this was going to happen with Ashton. Yet she couldn’t help wondering if maybe she’d just pressed harder this time things would have worked out. But she was certain she’d done everything right. Not too fast, not too slow. She’d asked him to open up, but he’d pushed her out. He didn’t trust her to truly have his back, and he likely never would.

  As good as they were together, it just wasn’t meant to be. Not long-term.

  She had chosen to give him a second shot, knowing the risks. And it hadn’t worked out.

  Now it was time to get over him and move on.

  Ashton surveyed the cottage without truly seeing it as he walked the sleeping child in his arms back and forth. Jaelyn was his. That fact refused to sink in. She hadn’t left with Quentin, but was right back where she’d always belonged—with him.

  It was morning now, the world awakening. He’d called the police station again, and informed them there was also a child in need of protection now. They’d placed a patrol car out front for the night while they looked into things, debating the level of protection he might need long-term.

  Ashton kept moving around the living room so Jaelyn would stay sleeping. She hadn’t wanted to let him out of her sight. Whenever he put her down she broke his heart by crawling over and clinging to his leg, repeating, “Da.”

  He’d kept telling her he was staying. He was here. He wasn’t going anywhere. But she didn’t believe him. Their separation had obviously felt as long and painful to her as it had to him.

  She’d grown, but she was still the same girl. Quentin had handed her over with a stroller and car seat that Ashton had purchased months ago, as well as a bag of unfamiliar clothes. Four diapers. No carefully selected high chair. No playpen, no crib.

  Ashton needed to go shopping. He needed a place he could child-proof. He needed a home.

  He also needed a full-time contract with a school division, and Morty off his tail.

  Would Quentin truly be able to resolve things now that he was childless?

  Either way, Ashton had a daughter he needed to provide for as well as keep safe. How long until Morty came to his door again? What if he tried to take Jaelyn?

  Ashton needed Zoe in his life, he needed Jaelyn, and he needed to protect them both, but he didn’t know how. He picked up the phone and called the officer sitting outside the cottage.

  Zoe sat in the sand and stared out over the ocean. The waves kept rolling in, unrelenting, just like her doubts about breaking up with Ashton last night.

  After talking to Dallas, she’d decided to request a mental health day, and by seven forty was sitting on the beach, trying to sort out her head.

  Down near the tiki hut bar she could see a woman who reminded her of her mom, her gray curls lifting off her shoulders with each gust of ocean breeze. She could use someone like her to talk to, but her mother wasn’t due back for another day or so from a cruise she’d taken with friends.

  Last night Zoe had felt justified in demanding that Ashton let her be at his side as he faced Morty, then indignant when he’d tried to protect her. But now…not so much.

  Yes, she feared he was keeping things from her, shutting her out again, but she also feared she had been unreasonable and had allowed the pain of the past to taint an entirely new situation.

  Zoe continued to watch as the woman drew closer, then stood up and waved. It was her mom.

  “Zoe! I was looking for you,” her mom said as she approached. Zoe gave her a huge hug, happy to see her. “Your yard looks amazing. Did Ashton do that for you?”

  Zoe nodded. It already felt like so long ago.

  “I go away for two weeks and everything changes. Caroline said you two have been hanging out.”

  “Yeah. We were. When did you get back?”

  “Last night.” Her mom fell into step beside her, and they began walking the beach together. “Apparently I told everyone the wrong return date. I nearly gave your father a heart attack when I climbed into bed next to him.” She giggled.

  Her mom’s steps suddenly faltered. “Wait. Were hanging out?”

  Zoe sighed. “I think we broke up last night.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. I really thought we had what you and Dad have.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “Something perfect.”

  Her mom laughed. “Perfect? Hardly, sweetie.”

  “It looks pretty perfect to me.”

  “You don’t see us fight.”

  “You don’t fight that often.”

  “True.” She smiled, her love for her husband evident in her twinkling eyes. “But it’s also not perfect.”

  “You two talk and share everything, though. You trust each other with the hard stuff.”

  “You and Ashton have only been together a short time.”

  “So?”

  “So,” her mother said carefully, “you aren’t going to share everything immediately. It takes time to build that trust. But I saw last summer how much the two of you loved each other, and I know you will build that solid fou
ndation you crave as you share your lives.”

  “But he’s not sharing. I shouldn’t have to hire an investigator to find out that the person looking for him is wanted by the police.”

  “You hired an investigator?”

  “You share your life with the people you love. You don’t keep secrets.”

  “Why was the man looking for him?”

  “It’s a really long story. He shuffled me out of his house as soon as he saw the man coming. I couldn’t even…” She shook her head, her frustration and anger taking over again.

  “Do you think maybe he was trying to protect you?”

  “I thought we’d changed, Mom. I thought he was going to let me in this time.”

  “Don’t you think you’re expecting too much in too short of a time frame? Two weeks, honey. After almost a year apart.”

  “But if he’s really The One, it should be easy. Like it is for you and Dad.”

  “It’s not easy, and your dad doesn’t know everything about me, and I don’t know everything about him. But it’s okay. I trust him and he trusts me.”

  Zoe came up short. “Like what? What doesn’t he know?”

  “Well…” Her mother was hedging, making Zoe all the more curious. “Sometimes there’s no need to overshare,” she said simply.

  “What is it?” How could her parents, who seemed to know everything about each other, have secrets?

  “He doesn’t know I broke up with my first boyfriend because he treated me poorly.”

  “Why didn’t you let him know?”

  “I was protecting him.”

  “From what?”

  “From going and beating up the guy and getting charged with assault.” She let out a sigh, then laughed. “And anyway, I just wanted to move past it. Now it’s old news.”

  “But wasn’t that lying?”

  “If he’d asked, or if it had come up by way of conversation, I would have told him. But there was no point telling him about something that would only cause an upset. He’d have thought less of me, too, I feared.”