His Secret Baby (A Bad Boy Romance)

by Waltz, Vanessa

  Thane stands up with me in his arms as I feel the veins in his cock pulse with blood, and then he throws me over the bed. He’s still standing. My foot goes over one shoulder, and then he moves the other. My back arches as he grabs my hips and lunges forward. A scream tears from my throat, because he fucks me deeper than I could’ve ever thought possible. His hips slam against mine in a crazed frenzy. My pussy aches for release, and he leans over me, fucking me hard, fucking me as though he needs it. Then his cock goes rigid and I feel the explosion deep inside me. The air shakes with his groan, and I feel the flood of wetness. My nerves scream with one last thrust, and then my walls tighten around him, milking every drop as he pulses in and out. Thane grabs my legs and lowers them, his hands gliding over my skin. The sensation sends ripples of shock throughout my body as my heart pounds.

  He slides over the bed, dragging me to the pillows to sprawl beside me. Breathing hard, he wraps a hand around my waist. I’m surprised with the ease at which he pulls my body into his chest. I feel like a ragdoll.

  The air is still. He nuzzles my neck, kissing me, and that’s how I fall asleep. Wrapped up in his arms.

  * * *

  Thane looks up from his plate of cooked egg whites to frown at me as I pick up my purse. I grab the neon pink flier and flash it in front of his face. His lips mouth the words, Women’s Club: Real Women. Real Issues.

  “Sounds…fun,” he says bracingly.

  “It sounds stupid. What, are we supposed to start a fundraiser for Planned Parenthood? A bake sale for the orphans? Come on.”

  “Don’t go if you don’t want to.”

  Violet probably doesn’t think I’ll go. It’s totally not my thing. I skipped the social justice warrior classes in college, thanks. I’m going because Thane wants me to become more involved, and according to my research, Violet’s the president and founder of Women’s Club, Babysitting Society, Ladies Social Club, and the Black Dragons Wine Club. She’s practically got a hierarchy on all the clubs in this fucking place, and I don’t trust her.

  Keep your enemies close.

  “I don’t want to go. I have to go. You want me more involved, remember?”

  He nods grudgingly, eyeing the pink flier suspiciously. “You’re taking Daniel with you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay. I need to do some business for Silas.”

  “What kind?”

  He looks at me over his cup of coffee. “You don’t want to know.”

  “Don’t tell me what I don’t want to know.”

  “I’ve got to go to a shareholder meeting of a major pharmaceutical company and persuade the board members to give us a share.”

  “Persuade?”

  He moves his head and mimes cracking his fist against someone’s skull. “You know.”

  “Oh God.”

  “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it. You just go to your women’s group meeting and try to have a good time.”

  He kisses the top of my head and pats me on the shoulder as though I’m some kind of pet, as though I’m not an equal. I don’t know whether he’s doing it on purpose, but I catch his wrist and he wheels around with the coffee cup in his hand.

  “Are there any updates on George?”

  “He’s still dead.”

  “Come on. Stop fucking around.”

  He sighs. “I can’t talk about it, Christine. Believe me, I’m worried. There was nothing on the tapes. George entered his room at seven thirty and Violet followed a half-hour later. No one else went inside.”

  “Isn’t it possible that someone—I don’t know—replaced the surveillance video?”

  “No.”

  “So whoever killed him was in there already? Why didn’t anyone see him escape?”

  “I don’t know, Christine.”

  I bite my lip as he puts down the cup, sighing.

  “Just go to the meeting and stay there with Daniel until I come by. It’ll be fine. He’ll be caught.”

  “Fine.”

  Thane lifts Daniel from the high chair and kisses his rapidly darkening head of hair. He makes faces at the baby until Daniel squeals back. I can’t help but think while I watch them together that I was completely wrong about Thane. He’s been a wonderful dad, far better than I ever thought he was capable, and he loves his son.

  I take Daniel from Thane, who seems reluctant to let him go. “I’ll see you soon.”

  “All right. Bye, hon.”

  He smiles at me and I have a hard time fighting back the flutter of warmth it brings me. I’m just glad that my son is mine for the morning. Usually, I have to hand him over to Thane, who brings him to daycare.

  Yay for Women’s Club.

  It’s on the same floor as the daycare center—go figure—behind a door with the same nauseating pink flier taped to the surface. A guard stationed at the door opens it for me, revealing a medium sized room with cheap carpet, all the desks and chairs pushed to one side of the room to make room for a closed circle of middle-aged women. I stand at the door for a few seconds, watching them ignore my presence. I feel like I’ve stumbled upon what must be the female equivalent of an old boys’ club. Violet’s there, dressed in all black for mourning, looking as immaculate as ever. It’s been a couple weeks since her husband’s death, and she smiles in a brave sort of way, dabbing intermittently at her eyes. Daniel makes a loud babbling noise, and then they finally turn around to look at me. Violet purses her lips in a slight frown as I walk closer, her gaze lingering on Daniel.

  Whatever, bitch. You’re not touching him.

  Several of the women smile at me as I walk inside. They open up their circle, which almost encompasses the entire room. Some of them raise their hands in greeting. I sit down next to a twenty-five-ish young woman with glasses and a long, blonde ponytail.

  She immediately warms up to Daniel. “What a sweet baby!”

  “Thank you.”

  “My name’s Cassidy.”

  I take her tiny hand, shaking it. “I’m Christine. Nice to meet you.” It’s been so long that I’ve had a real conversation with another person besides Thane that I’m actually excited to meet people. “I haven’t been here for very long.”

  “Oh, we know.”

  “You already knew who I was?”

  She laughs. “It’s a little weird isn’t it? Word spreads pretty fast around here. I mean, we’re a pretty close-knit community so everyone always gets a little excited when there’s a new member.”

  “And you guys are free to leave whenever you want?”

  “Of course. If you grow up here, they give you until you’re eighteen to decide what you want to do. Everyone has to help out, or you’re sent on your way. It wasn’t always like that, though. Silas made a lot of changes.”

  “And people like the changes, right?”

  Cassidy brightens. “Yeah. I think what he’s doing is great. Things were pretty shitty for us before he came along—”

  She stops abruptly in the middle of her sentence, looking pale. Then I realize how quiet it is in the room. We must’ve been the only two voices talking with everyone listening in.

  The pearls at Violet’s neck swing as she leans forward. “Hello, Christine. We’re very glad you decided to join us.”

  I’m suspicious of the warmth in her voice. “Thanks.”

  “In the future, though, if I could ask you to please be on time, that’d be great.”

  “Right,” I say as I read the clock across the room. Nine o’ clock sharp. “Sorry.”

  “We also ask members to keep personal conversations at a minimum. This is not social hour, it’s more of a discussion forum.”

  My face stretches into a smile. If she’s looking to embarrass me, she’s going the wrong route. Like I give a fuck what any of these girls think of me.

  Cassidy rolls her eyes as Violet goes through the minutes of last meeting.

  “We all saw how she took your baby out of your arms at the funeral. Fucked up.”

  “Right?” I lea
n in, whispering back. “What the hell is wrong with her?”

  “I don’t know. I think she’s taking the death of her husband really hard.”

  “Yeah, maybe.”

  Although I really doubt tackling issues like whether we’ll have enough vol-au-vents at the next charity ball is taking one’s husband’s death really hard. Most of the women in the circle look just as bored as I am, and I’m starting to notice a clique of women who smile whenever Violet talks, and offer their own suggestions when Violet comes up with an idea.

  A redheaded woman with a bob haircut raises her hand.

  “Yes, Kendra?”

  Kendra’s wavering voice speaks out. “I wanted to discuss security in light of…everything that’s happened.”

  A hush fills the room as every head swings around to stare at Kendra. Her face goes slightly pink.

  “I’m just wondering if we should be doing more. I’m sorry for bringing it up, but I’d rather talk about what happened.”

  Nearly the whole circle murmurs in agreement and even the clique surrounding Violet seems to think that she has a fair point. Kendra seems to shrink in her seat under Violet’s poisonous glare.

  “I don’t know what to tell you. My husband was murdered in my home.”

  “Yeah, I know, but what happened? Some of us haven’t heard the full story.”

  I wince.

  “I’m sorry, did you want a detailed report?”

  “No, I just—”

  “Do you want the gory details, is that it?”

  Jesus. All she asked was: What happened, and yet the whole room looks at her as though blaming her for goading Violet into tears.

  Kendra’s face is flaming red. “No.”

  “Then I don’t understand your question. If you read the report, you know what happened.”

  “I just wanted to know if there are any updates you can share.”

  “There are no suspects,” Violet says icily. “The man or woman who did this is walking among us, unchecked.”

  “So you think it might’ve been a woman?”

  “It could’ve been anyone,” Violet explodes, tearing up immediately. One of the girls surrounding her offers her a tissue, which she rejects, choosing instead to gaze solemnly at the circle of women. “I could tell you to keep vigilant, lock your doors, and don’t walk the halls alone, but I just don’t think that’s enough.”

  A worried rush of whispers follows the end of Violet’s words. They lean into each other and talk, glancing at Violet as silent tears slip down her face. It looks like they were actually looking at her for comfort.

  “That’s why I asked what we should do.”

  “Be on the lookout,” someone chimes in.

  “My guess is that whoever did this was new to the syndicate. They don’t belong here. Why else would they d—do that to G—George?”

  An unpleasant feeling starts to crawl over my skin. New to the syndicate? Check. Doesn’t belong here? Check.

  “Can we at least rule out that it was a woman? I mean, I find it really hard to believe that a woman could have the strength to overpower him.”

  The suggestion seems to infuriate Violet. “You all know that George was in poor health. He was always a strong man, but lately…My point is that it would’ve been easy for a woman to take a knife and stab him in the chest!”

  Kendra frowns. “Why would anyone do that?”

  “I don’t know! Why does any woman m—murder somebody else’s husband? Jealousy o—or spite!”

  It’s alarming to hear the fury burst from Violet’s mouth, but no one seems to think her theory is at all likely. He was a sixty-year-old man, and while I’m sure he was very nice, I didn’t see him triggering homicidal urges. I turn it over in my head, wondering if there really are women crazy enough to lie in wait in someone’s room and stab someone else’s husband to death out of spite. Yeah, I really doubt it. The murder had to have been for political reasons, whatever the fuck those might’ve been. Why was he stabbed so many times, though? That suggests a crime of passion, not politics.

  “I think whoever did it was very angry with him.”

  There’s a flurry of movement as everyone turns around to look at me. Violet snorts, tossing back her hair to fix me with a haughty stare.

  Fuck, I shouldn’t have said anything.

  “How would you know?”

  My skin burns, but I look back at her, determined. “Look at how many times he was stabbed. The murderer, whoever he was, kept stabbing him even after he was dead.”

  “God,” Cassidy says in a low voice next to me.

  “So you agree,” she says in a louder voice. “My husband was killed out of some kind of vindictiveness.”

  I look calmly into Violet’s glazed eyes. “That’s what it looks like.”

  “Who hated George?” Someone else chimes in.

  “Everyone loved him.”

  “Someone had a problem with him.”

  They all sound like Thane, refusing to accept that the syndicate’s most well liked man might’ve had a few enemies.

  “You seem to know a lot about the subject.”

  I don’t like her tone. “I read a lot.”

  She turns her suspicious gaze to the rest of them. “It’s weird, isn’t it? We haven’t had an incident in months, and then you join us out of nowhere—”

  “—I was taken from my home by my husband. I didn’t join anything.”

  The frown lines in her forehead deepen. “All the more reason for you to strike out at someone.”

  My heart throbs dully in my chest as a dozen faces turn toward me.

  “Strike out? Wait, are you saying that I had something to do with this?”

  She points her finger at me. “You said that, not me.”

  “How can you even think—I was at dinner with you!”

  “That doesn’t mean you couldn’t have been involved somehow,” she says in rapid-fire. “You called me a crazy bitch at my husband’s funeral.”

  You are a crazy bitch!

  Scandalized looks flash at me, and I feel my face getting hot. “You yanked my baby out of my arms!”

  But Violet keeps going, ignoring my comment. “And before that there was the incident at the nursery. Yeah, I remember that. You didn’t want me taking care of your son even though I’d been nothing but nice to you!”

  “Are you fucking serious? You were goading me.” I look at their hostile faces, incredulous. “She called me a cunt!”

  Violet utters an irritatingly high, feminine gasp. “How can you use that language in front of your son?”

  My jaw drops. This is the woman who called me a fucktoy and a cunt, all within hearing distance of my son. She’s manipulative. She’s fucking evil.

  Then Violet cries, and it’s not the beautiful weeping we saw at the funeral, it’s a loud, obnoxious ugly cry that makes me wince. A few of them sitting around her pat her back as she doubles over, looking at me with venom.

  “She yanked my baby from my arms. I can’t believe you people are defending her.”

  “I just wanted to h-hold him. My husband had just d-died. I don’t have one of my own.”

  And that’s it. The sympathetic looks thrown my way wither and die as Violet sobs over her tragic, childless existence. I’m the cold-hearted bitch who wouldn’t even let the grieving widow hold a baby.

  Bravo Violet.

  A wavering voice speaks up. “Maybe you should leave.”

  The entire room stares at me, more than a few looking at me with disgust. Daniel fusses as I adjust him in my arms, heat rising up my neck.

  “I agree. You’re bringing a really negative energy into the room,” the woman to Violet’s left says.

  “She’s the one who attacked me!”

  Violet sits up, swallowing, mastering herself to look me in the eye. “I-I don’t think it’s a good idea if she comes at anymore meetings.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Probably for the best.”

  This feels like middl
e school all over again, being picked last in gym class, hostile girls bumping into my shoulder in the hallways.

  “So I guess I’m banned from every single club in the syndicate since you run all of them.”

  “Maybe in a few months we’ll reevaluate your membership if your behavior improves,” the same woman says.

  This is bullshit.

  I want to scream at them, but I know that whatever I say will reinforce Violet’s opinion of me in their heads, and I can’t afford to have more people hating my guts right now. My only ally in this place is my husband, and he doesn’t even trust me, really.

  Fuck this.

  I turn around, heading toward the door.

  “Excuse me. Where do you think you’re going?”

  The haughty tone returns to her voice.

  “I’m leaving.”

  “Yes, you’re leaving, but not with that baby.”

  Oh fucking hell no.

  If only horns would pop out of her skull right now, it would complete the image of her literally being Satan. That baby. As if he isn’t mine, as if I didn’t labor for eight hours giving birth to him.

  “He’s my baby.”

  “He’s Thane’s baby, and Thane says that you’re not to wander around with Daniel. Sorry, but those are the rules.”

  I’m not going to cry here in front of all these strangers. I’m just not going to. I hear a harsh, barely audible whisper: “Her own husband doesn’t trust her. Why should we?”

  I stand there, trembling as Cassidy stands up from the floor and approaches me, her expression friendly.

  “I’ll take him.”

  Tears slide down my face as I hand my baby over, and Violet’s eyes gleam with savage triumph.

  * * *

  I’ve never wished anyone dead my whole life, but I had a moment while I was standing outside the door, listening to their high voices return to talking about vol-au-vents where I saw Violet’s body inside that coffin instead of George’s.

  And I smiled.

  It made me sick to think that I’m the kind of person who wishes ill on somebody. Before this, I would’ve never considered doing anything like this, but that was before I felt that Violet was a threat, but no one will ever believe that until I find proof. Full, irrevocable proof that she’s out to get me. I’ve known women like her my whole life, and there’s always a nasty background. She’s a master manipulator, at the head of every fucking social club in this place. She’ll make it impossible for me to ever carve out a decent life here all because I’m married to the man she wants to fuck.