“Holding on to hate would only hurt me more.”
It was almost a grin that lit on his face. “Am I allowed to hate them for you?”
I bit my bottom lip, fighting a smile. Again, overcome by him. By that beautiful exterior and the amazing heart beating its own kind of grace underneath. “If it makes you feel better.”
He clutched me to him, burrowing his face into my neck, pressing his lips against my skin. “Yeah, it makes me feel so much better.”
Then he nipped at me, and a giggle slipped out.
Because Rex Gunner made me feel completely free.
I moved to stare down at him, and I swore his eyes saw all the way to the depths of me.
The air shifted.
Hit with that charge.
A bolt of electricity.
I sucked in a breath, and he placed his palm at the center of my chest, nudging me back until I was sitting up, straddling him.
He gripped his length in his hand.
Already ready. Wanting more.
Which was just fine, because everything I had belonged to this man.
31
Rynna
Morning light flooded through the window. Bright, white, and glowing.
I thought maybe I was, too.
I watched Rex, the man lost to sleep. Peace floated around him like a full-body halo where he lay face down on his bed. Twisted in his sheets. A hint of his perfect, round ass peeked out from above the satiny material, the ridges of his muscular back on display, his shoulders so deliciously wide.
My gaze traced every inch of exposed skin.
Even though he’d been so lost, he’d opened up, willing to be found.
Redness rushed across my chest and up to my face, this feeling that was so heavy and warm and light fluttering through my senses. Everything so incredibly right.
Not even trying to stop my smile, I quietly dressed and slipped out of his room.
I peeked in at Frankie. I had to stifle a laugh when I found her facing the opposite end of her bed, sprawled out across it. She had one arm thrown over the side and a leg bent at an odd angle so her foot rested against the wall.
Not even sleep could keep that rambunctious child tamed.
My heart thrummed.
Love. Love. Love.
Pulling her door closed a fraction, I continued to edge down the hall, eager to start the day. Milo would need to be taken out.
On top of that? I figured Rex would love to have a fresh pot of coffee waiting for him when he woke.
Or maybe . . .
Maybe I would have one of Pepper’s breakfast pies ready. The kind my gramma had been known for most. It was close to a quiche, but the entire thing was topped with a flaky, delicious crust. People had come for miles to have it start their days.
A grin gripped my entire face when I thought of Rex’s reaction. The way he’d look at me when he stood all rumpled and sleepy at the end of the hall, finding me in his kitchen.
That man and his pie.
When he heard me approaching, Milo scrambled to his feet. Nails scratching at the wood floor, he scampered over to me. His tail and hind-end wagged all over the place, his whole body shaking.
“Morning, sweet boy,” I said. I scooped him into my arms. “I bet you need to go potty, don’t you?” I cooed, nuzzling my nose against the top of his head. He licked my chin.
I slipped on the flip-flops I’d left by the couch and grabbed his leash.
Right as I was reaching for the knob, light knocking sounded against the wood. It stopped me short. Ears perking up, Milo twisted in my arms, his attention trained that direction. I fumbled my fingers through his soft fur. “It’s okay, sweet boy. Let’s see who it is so they don’t wake up the whole house.”
I glanced at the clock. It wasn’t even seven in the morning. Frowning, I quickly and quietly twisted the lock, careful as I eased it open.
Confused, I blinked, trying to see through the bright sunlight that poured in from behind the figure on the porch.
A blazing silhouette just on the other side of Rex’s door.
I attempted to shake myself from the hallucination. To focus clearly. Desperate to find who was really there and not what my mind was taunting me into believing.
Bewilderment stirred through my brain, nudging at the recesses of my mind, prodding at every hurt I’d triumphed. Every fear that had attempted to hold me back. I could feel the trigger being squeezed. Shooting me straight into the worst kind of dream.
No.
I blinked at her.
No.
Movement at the end of the hall tore my attention from the figure standing on the porch. My mouth flapped open, questions wanting to pour out when I found Rex standing there, wearing only his jeans.
But I couldn’t say anything.
His own shock had frozen him in place, those sage eyes wider than I’d ever seen.
“Janel,” he finally rasped. Her name was barely audible, but it struck my world like an atomic bomb.
Detonating.
Exploding.
Destroying.
Slowly, I looked back at her. My knees went weak.
And the entire world dropped out from under me.
32
Rex
I could barely see through the fog. Through the haze of my mind.
Clouded.
Confused.
Hurt and hate. They spun through my spirit, a goddamned cyclone that blistered my blood.
I stood at the end of my hall staring at the woman who couldn’t be anything more than an apparition.
A fucking ghost. A demon cast from hell to torment the living.
Or maybe that was just where I’d been condemned.
Hell.
Punishment for giving up and giving in.
Because Rynna stood there, as shocked as I was, her knees going weak when Janel’s name finally tore through my lips like lead.
It might as well have been a bullet.
Rynna fumbled back a step. Her hand shot out to the wall to keep her from falling. Janel stared at her. Shocked. Angry. Jealous. I didn’t fucking know. All I knew was she finally said her name.
“Rynna?”
She said it like she knew her.
“What are you doing here?” Janel all of a sudden demanded, words a harsh breath.
Guessed that was what finally knocked me from the trance. The fact she had the audacity to come into my house and make any kind of claim. I angled forward, head cocked to the side as I stalked across the floor of my home.
My home.
Frankie’s home.
The home I had every intention of becoming Rynna’s, too.
“You really gonna fucking stand there and demand to know who’s in my house? Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?”
“Rex.” Janel’s blue eyes found mine. Wide and innocent. The way she’d always looked at me when she wanted something most. Which was usually about all the time. Maybe I didn’t recognize it until then. But there it was, the truth of it glaring back at me.
Three fucking years, and she was going to stand there looking at me like that?
“Get the fuck out.” My voice was grit.
Rynna reeled at my side. Gasping over a breath. She barely caught herself before she fell to her knees, clutching Milo to her chest.
“No.” It was a whimper from her mouth.
Grief.
“Rynna,” I whispered, arm going out to gather her up. To steady her. To let her know it didn’t matter this fucking bitch was standing at my door.
Panic surged through me when she dodged my touch and lurched forward, grabbing her purse from where she’d set it on the floor the night before, and then bolted out my door.
Janel stumbled out of her way as Rynna blew by.
No fucking way was I letting this happen.
I darted after her. “Rynna. Stop. Don’t leave. Don’t . . . fuck, don’t leave.”
Don’t leave.
She didn’t seem to be able to focus when she looked back
at me. She kept moving, stumbling down the steps of my front porch and clinging to the railing with one hand and Milo with the other, her eyes glazed over with confusion.
With horror.
With disbelief.
Like she was running from her own ghosts.
“Rynna,” I begged it again, desperate where I stood at the edge of my porch. Right where I’d confessed to her all my secrets last night.
“Please . . . just . . . don’t,” she pleaded. Her eyes flashed to Janel for a beat before she had a hand up to stop me. Frantic, she swallowed. “I have to . . . I have to get out of here.”
“Rynna.”
With a sharp, erratic shake of her head, she turned, fumbling as she shot forward.
Every part of me wanted to chase after her. Last thing I wanted was to be standing there, helpless, watching her flee across the road and disappear inside her house.
But I had an issue I needed to manage.
Hands clenched, I slowly turned to look at where Janel stood at the far end of the porch. She was twisting her fingers, throat wobbling, just as sure as her bottom lip. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to just show up—”
My head cocked, words nothing but fiery darts that cut her off. “You’re sorry?” I took a menacing step forward. “Three fucking years, and you’re sorry?”
“Rex . . . I . . . I can explain.”
“I don’t want to hear anything you have to say.”
My heart dropped to the fucking floor when Frankie was suddenly there in the doorway, tiny fists rubbing at her sleepy eyes. “Daddy? Who’s is here?”
“Baby,” Janel suddenly said. She lunged forward, going right for her.
Anger.
Disgust.
Disbelief.
They roiled.
I reached out and gripped her by the upper arm, probably harder than I should have. “Don’t you dare.”
She looked at me as if she couldn’t believe I would stop her. As if she had any right. I pushed her behind me and dropped to my knees in front of my daughter. Almost frantic, I brushed back that unruly disaster of hair from her face while I felt everything inside me bust apart. “Need you to do Daddy a big, huge favor.”
She grinned, and I fucking cringed when she glanced over my shoulder.
And I fucking saw it.
The recognition. The goddamned pictures I used to show her, thinking her seeing her mother’s face might comfort her. Back when I promised my daughter that her mother would be coming back. That everything would be all right. Knowing someday Janel would come to her senses and return.
When I’d remained devoted.
I’d prayed for it.
Begged for it.
Motherfucking loyalty.
“Is that’s my mommy?” She seemed confused by it, not exactly excited.
Wary.
That panic lit in an all-out frenzy.
“Yes, baby. Yes. I’m your mommy.”
Every muscle in my body seized, and I wanted to lash out. Shout at Janel. Tell her to go right back to hell where she’d come from.
I shifted so Frankie could only look at me, and I begged her with my eyes. “Daddy needs you to do me that favor, Sweet Pea.”
She nodded at me. Like she’d just caught on to my turmoil.
I squeezed her by the hips. “Need you to go into your room and shut your door. Don’t come out until I come get you, okay? Can you do that for me?”
She nodded with all that trust. “Course, I can.”
“Good girl,” I told her, hoping my words didn’t shake.
I didn’t rise until she turned the corner at the end of the hall, only pausing to peer back at us once, curiosity and a shot of fear in the wells of her brown eyes.
Like she could feel mine.
Years of suppressed, barely checked hate.
It was all there in the clench of my fists when I finally pushed to my feet. My teeth ground so hard I was sure they were grating to dust. And Janel? She just stood there with a pleading expression on her face. A face I’d once thought pretty.
Gorgeous even.
This woman, who I’d allowed to twist me up and tie me, left me hanging out to dry.
Tears sprang to her eyes and raced down her face. “She’s so big.” Her words hitched.
“It’s been three years. What did you think?” Mine were nothing but spite.
Her head shook, and she looked away, dropping her gaze. “I don’t know. It feels like it’s been forever and like it was only yesterday.”
A huff scraped my throat. “Yesterday? She was barely walking when you left. She starts school next year. You don’t get to come here and pretend like you didn’t miss anything when you missed everything.”
My head shook. Harsh. A jolt to clear the chaos. The disorder that tumbled and shook.
I angled back on her, bitterness bleeding out. “What do you want?” This woman could come in and rip apart our unstable world.
Standing there, wearing all that bullshit innocence written in her features. Holding all the power in the palm of her seedy hand.
“You’re my husband.”
She might as well have punched me in the face. Kicked me in the gut. Her statement blew through me like a grenade. “Don’t fucking call me that.” It dropped out in a low, slow threat.
“It’s the truth.”
Hostility shook my head. “You haven’t belonged to me in a long time.”
“I never stopped belonging to you. You didn’t sign the papers, remember? That was your choice. A choice I let go.”
Fuck.
Mother. Fuck.
“Doesn’t mean anything,” I grated.
She took a pleading step forward. “It means everything. I—”
Hopeless, she looked to the house that was supposed to be our home. The one she’d set afire. Burned it straight into the ground, leaving that bullshit note about how it was all my fault before she just fucking took off and left us behind.
Right then, I might as well have been back there. A prisoner to that day. Missy lying dead at my feet and my wife driving away.
Leaving me.
My attention moved across the street, to the impenetrable silence that hovered like stone around Rynna’s house.
Don’t leave me.
A sob erupted in the air, stealing my focus, my purpose. I jerked my head back to Janel, who pressed her hands over her heart. Like she was trying to keep it inside. “You’re with her? With Rynna?”
“How do you know her?” I demanded.
Apparently, last night I’d ripped off the lid to Pandora’s box. Every demon in my past flying out. Guess it only seemed fitting one stood on my front porch. Seeking a way in when I’d been so diligent at keeping everything out.
Rynna.
Fucking Rynna.
Little Thief.
The second she’d stepped into my life, she’d turned everything upside down.
A frown crossed Janel’s brow, hesitation thick, before she quietly spoke, “I didn’t know her well, but I knew her well enough to know she’s Corinne Dayne’s granddaughter. We didn’t run in the same circle, though. It just . . . caught me off guard that she’s here. I’m . . . I know I don’t have any right to be jealous, but I can’t help it. I thought when I came back we . . .” She trailed off, her intentions hanging in the air like a thick shroud of dread.
“Well, you thought wrong. You left us. You can’t come back and expect anything to be waiting for you.”
“You know I couldn’t stay any longer. I was dying inside. You—”
“Then what are you doing here?” My biting words cut her off.
“I . . . I got help. A counselor who helped me see we just needed to work through our troubles. Courage to fight for it. For my family.”
Fight for us?
Mocking laughter rocked from my lungs. “You’re here to fight for us? To win me back?”
“Yes.” She said it so simply. So easily. Like I should just let go of three years of hurt. Like
I should just let go of Rynna.
“It’s a little late for that.”
“It’s never too late.” She reached out. Both hands circled around my wrist. “At least I need to see Frankie Leigh. I can’t go on without her, Rex. I have never been the same since I walked away from my child. Never have known a torture like the one I’ve been livin’. Please, I need to try to make it up to her. She needs to know her momma.”
Agony crawled over my body.
A devouring beast.
Fangs sinking all the way to bone.
How long did I pray for that? Beg and plead and cry out to the emptiness of the night? Nothing but a beggar on his knees, willing to give up anything for his daughter’s life to be whole. Fulfilled. For her to never feel an ounce of the betrayal that I’d worn around like a second skin.
And there was her mom. Without my permission, my gaze moved back to the open door. To my kid. I’d always done what was best for her. Problem was, right then I had no clue what that was. What was right.
“Not sure I can give you that kind of chance, Janel.”
“She’s my daughter.”
“Who you abandoned,” I bit out, voice muted so Frankie couldn’t hear.
A sob tore from her. A loud, guttural moan. “I’m so sorry,” she whimpered. “So sorry. I’ll do anything to make it up to her. Anything. Please give me a chance. I just need to see my daughter.”
33
Rynna
I stumbled into my house, drawing in big, sucking breaths. Trying to keep it together when I already knew that was impossible.
Janel.
Janel.
Rex.
Frankie.
Oh God.
Agony sliced through my being, cutting me in two. Clutching Milo to my chest, I tipped my head back toward the ceiling. Tears slicked down my face and dripped into my hair.
Why?
Why did life have to be so cruel? Fate twisted. Warped and perverted.
I set Milo on his feet and frantically dug in my bag to find my phone. Uncontrollably, my hands shook when I tried to find Macy’s contact. Finally, I managed to push send. It rang twice before her groggy voice came onto the line. “Hello?”
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