She shook it off and spun to face her ex. “No. Cody. Whatever you want, my answer is no.” Fate, or Karma, or pure, dumb luck may have put them in the same random shopping center at the same time, but she didn’t read the unhappy coincidence as a sign some higher power wanted her to listen to anything he had to say.
“What do you mean, ‘no’?” He hit her with the wounded, puppy dog eyes she’d once found so irresistible. “Honey, I haven’t even asked you for anything.”
“Well, don’t bother, because you’ve already heard my answer.” She opened her car door and threw her shopping bag into the passenger seat.
“Look, Maddy.” He lowered his head and ran a hand through his hair then glanced up and gave her the eyes again. “I messed up. I got freaked out and I left you to deal with a pregnancy all by yourself. I’m sorry.”
“Okay. Great. You’re sorry. Message delivered. You can stop texting me and get on with your life.” She made a move to get behind the wheel, but he stepped closer and covered the hand she’d rested against the top of the door.
“I sent those texts because I couldn’t stop thinking about you, worrying about you. Wondering how you were doing.” He hit her with the earnest eyes again. “You and our baby.”
Our baby. Even in his messages, he’d never actually gone so far as to acknowledge paternity, but now, face-to-face, she heard the keen interest in his voice. The almost desperate thirst for details. Maybe knowing some part of him existed outside of himself had finally unlocked his daddy instincts? Maybe he really had spared a thought about Joy’s welfare? “You can stop wondering and worrying. We’re fine.”
“Madison, please.” He paused and wiped a jittery hand over his forehead. “I’m dying here. I don’t even know if I helped make a boy or a girl. I haven’t seen so much as a picture.”
If he wanted to butter her up before asking her for money, discussing the baby—her most important obligation and her number one priority—was a lousy way to do it. Was it possible his interest and concern were genuine? He was Joy’s father. If showing him a picture and telling him a few details helped him understand he’d played a crucial part in creating one miraculous thing in his sad, screwed-up life, who was she to deny him that truth? She dug her phone out of her purse, flipped it open, and accessed her photo gallery. A close-up of Joy snuggling with the giant teddy bear Hunter had given her offered a good look at her pretty features. Cody might even recognize himself in the slant of her forehead and the shape of her brow. She handed him the phone.
“Meet Joy. She’s healthy and happy. Growing like crazy.”
“Damn, she’s pretty as a shiny new penny.”
Something about his reaction—the jackpot expression on his face instead of awe and wonder—made her reach for her phone.
“Hold on…” He pushed her hand away and raised the phone out of her reach while he pressed buttons. “I just want to send the picture to myself.”
“Give me my phone.” She kept her voice firm and even, even though her heart raced with unspecified anxiety. “I have to go.”
He hit send and handed her phone back, smiling now. “Don’t rush off. We need to talk. I want to help my daughter have the best life possible. It’s my responsibility as her daddy—our responsibility as her parents—to do that for her.”
Cold, sharp claws raced under her skin. She clasped her phone and took a step away, until the car brought her up short. “I plan to provide a very good life for her. I love her.”
His smile widened, but his eyes went flat and hungry, like a shark’s. “Sure you do. Look at her.” He gestured to her phone. “She’s loveable. Anyone would love her. But it takes more than love to raise a kid.” Leaning close, he lowered his voice. “What if I told you I’d figured out a way to guarantee she has the best of everything? Don’t you want Joy to have every opportunity?”
Ugh. He smelled awful. Sweaty. She leaned away. “Of course I do, but—”
“How many opportunities can you afford?”
“I…” She didn’t bother finishing. She couldn’t afford a lot, and he knew it. Suspicion danced along her spine. “What’s your point, Cody?”
“My point is, sometimes being responsible means accepting help.”
“I’ve already learned that lesson.” She straightened and crossed her arms to take up more space. “I have all the help I need.”
He gave no ground. “For how long? Eighteen years?”
“I have the help I need,” she repeated, refusing to get dragged into a conversation about the future.
“Maddy, face it, there are things you and I will never be able to give her. I’ve talked to a friend, and I’ve figured out how to make sure our little girl lacks for nothing, and we receive some consideration, too.”
Waves of acid roiled in her stomach. She didn’t want any “help” from the kind of people he knew. She dropped into the driver’s seat and grabbed the door handle in preparation to slam it closed. “We’re fine. We don’t need any help. Tell your friend we’re not interested.”
He braced his hip against the door and blocked her attempt to close it. “We are interested. My friend can put Joy in the arms of a grateful, financially secure couple that will give her the best of everything. Nice house, fancy schools—everything a kid could want—and you’ll get five thousand, cash.”
Red hazed her vision. “You bastard. Get out of my way.” She grabbed the door handle and started to pull it shut, not caring if she slammed one of his body parts in the process.
He braced his hand on her window, using his arm to keep the door open, and started speaking quickly. “Okay, ten thousand. We both made her, so we’ll share equally in the placement fee. This is no bullshit, Madison. The couple has the money parked in some kind of escrow account with their attorney. It’s legit. We sign some papers, hand the kid over to people who are far better qualified to raise her than we ever will be, and collect a well-deserved birth parent stipend for doing the right thing. It’s all win.”
“Get away from me.” She shoved him away and grabbed the door handle again. He sprang forward and stuck his leg in the door before she could close it.
“Ow! Shit, Madison. What the fuck’s you’re problem? Ten thousand is the best I can do. It’s more than fair. I’m splitting my share fifty-fifty.”
“My baby is not for sale.” She crunched his leg in her door again, with the kind of determination that said move it or lose it. He moved it. She slammed the door and revved her outdated engine.
Over the noise, he called, “That baby’s half mine. You want to keep her for yourself? Fine. You owe me ten thousand dollars.”
A vile taste burned in the back of her throat. “You want to talk about who owes what?” She shouted out her window. “If you cross my path again, I’m suing you for paternity, and every penny of child support I can wring out of your worthless ass.”
Her heart beat against her ribs like a caged bird as she backed out of the parking space at her top reverse speed. The tires skidded when she braked and then squealed when she gunned the gas. The wheel slid through her palms and she shot forward. In her rearview mirror she saw him standing in the parking lot, watching her go.
Chapter Sixteen
“Hunter, I’m sorry to bother you at work.”
“It’s no problem, Nelle.” He pressed the phone closer to his ear to hear his neighbor over the road noise. The uncharacteristically tense tone of her voice told him all too clearly there was a problem, and he belatedly realized he’d been braced for one for the last five days, because Madison had been jumpy as a cat ever since she’d gone back to work. He put into words the concern foremost in his mind. “Is Joy okay?”
“She’s absolutely fine. We both are. But you need to come home, honey. Someone just broke into your house. The police are on the way.”
“Well, shit. Seriously?”
“’Fraid so. I took Joy on a walk, and on the way back, I caught sight of someone sneaking around the side of your garage. I rushed home and cal
led the police while Walt next door grabbed his deer dropper and hustled over to your place. I guess he stood on the porch, cocked that old gun, and warned everyone within earshot the next sound coming would be the blast of a double barrel. The intruder flew out your backdoor like a bat out of hell.”
Fuck. He was lucky he didn’t have a dead neighbor on his porch. Crime was rare in the neighborhood, and break-ins practically unheard of, but apparently the unofficial neighborhood watch stayed on high alert nonetheless. Equally apparent, his seventy-year-old hunting enthusiast neighbor needed a reminder that while an eight-point buck rarely packed heat, a strung-out crackhead just might.
“Thanks for letting me know. I’m on my way. Do me a favor and remind Walt to put the gun away before the cops show up.”
She agreed and then hung up. To Beau, he said, “I gotta clock out. Someone broke into my house.”
His partner kept his attention on the road and his hands on the wheel, but he asked, “Everybody’s okay?”
“Sounds like it, yeah. Madison’s at work, and Joy’s with the lady across the street.” He briefly ran through what Nelle had told him.
“That sucks,” Beau offered, “but lucky your neighbor happened by when she did.”
“Yeah. I need a little more luck.” He checked his watch. “I’ve got to get home before Madison and try to settle everything down. She’ll lose her shit if she rolls up to find my shotgun-toting neighbor on the porch and a police cruiser in the driveway. She’s been on edge ever since she went back to work.”
Beau maneuvered onto the freeway. “Nervous about leaving Joy?”
“I think so, which is silly because if I haven’t been around to babysit, Nelle’s looked after Joy, so Madison knows she’s in good hands. But coming home to what qualifies as the crime of the century in our neighborhood will not ease her mind.”
“Call in and let Ashley know the situation. She’ll make sure you’re good to go as soon as we get back to the station.”
She would. Yes, she pained his ass ninety-nine percent of the time, but the other one percent, she stepped the hell up. Greasing those skids only took a moment, and Ashley basically offered to have his car out front idling for him. He considered calling Madison just to give her a heads-up, but unless she was on a break, the call would go to voicemail, and he didn’t want to leave her a message saying, “Everything’s cool, but we had a break-in at the house.” Better to just get on home, deal with the police, and clean up any mess their visitor left before she showed. Then she could see for herself everything was fine.
Fine wasn’t the word that jumped to mind a half hour later when he pulled up to the curb in front of his house. A police car sat in the driveway, lights flashing, and a small crowd of neighbors stood around, chatting with the two officers waiting at his front door. At least Walt had put the gun away.
As he got out of his car, Nelle stepped onto her porch with Joy tucked in her arms and gave him a wave. She pantomimed holding a baby bottle, and then pointed at her door. He nodded and gave her an OK sign. Then he turned to his house.
Neighbors parted like the Red Sea as he approached. He clapped Walt on the shoulder and then introduced himself to Officers Stern and Langley. Some cops reacted well to the uniform and saw EMTs as an integral part of the emergency services brotherhood. Some didn’t. It was too early to tell where Stern and Langley fell on the spectrum, but he led with courtesy. Stern, a tall, skinny white guy with heavy brows that helped him live up to his name, asked him if he was the homeowner. To simplify things, he said yes and produced his key. “Y’all want to come in?”
“No rush,” Langley said. “When we arrived, Mr. Emerson here”—the young, dark-skinned officer gestured to Walt—“indicated the intruder fled through the back door. We inspected the door, found it unlocked, and entered to conduct a search and ensure no other intruders remained in the home.”
“All clear, I take it?”
“All clear,” Langley confirmed. “By the looks of things, I’d say Mr. Emerson interrupted your would-be thief before he or she had a chance to lift anything. Why don’t you follow us around to your garage? We’ll show you how the intruder gained access, and then we’ll go inside and you can tell us if anything’s missing.”
He stepped back and held out an arm. “Lead the way.”
The process took about thirty minutes, and gifted him with the enlightening opportunity to view his home through cop’s eyes. Little details he’d become accustomed to, and didn’t really notice anymore, suddenly took on new prominence. Joy’s clean bottles air-dried in a rack by the kitchen sink, along with a couple pacifiers. Her swing occupied a place of honor by the sofa in the living room. The baby lounger and big stuffed bear took up most of the real estate on the guestroom daybed, and more baby supplies covered his desk.
How are you supposed to get any work done there? You’ve got a nursery, not an office, and sure as hell not a study space. Don’t you think you’re going to need one, or is school just going to be really easy the second time around?
He shoved the unhelpful thought away. They had time to work out the exit strategy.
In his bedroom, the jumbo bottle of lube and a value-pack of condoms sat prominently on his nightstand, and a pair of Madison’s little red bikini underwear peeked out from under his pillow.
Right. What’s the exit strategy again?
“You have a family, Mr. Knox?” Stern asked.
“Houseguests,” he corrected, but the word left a dusty taste in his mouth. Family felt closer to the truth—and yet it wasn’t. He gave Langley Madison’s and Joy’s full names and details for the report. After the officer wrote the information, he looked up at Hunter. “Can you contact Miss Foley? We’d like her to walk through as well, and advise if anything of theirs is missing.”
He could pretty much confirm all their stuff was present and accounted for, including the envelope of cash she’d tucked into the nightstand in the guestroom. She needed to put that in the bank. He glanced at his watch. She’d be on her way home at this time, and he didn’t want to call or text because between a ten-year-old car and a five-year-old flip-phone, hands free mode was as far out of reach as hyper-drive. “I expect her any minute.”
“Great. That will make things simpler. In the meantime, we can check the garage—see if he helped himself to anything on the way into the house.”
Nothing was missing from the garage. Still, the entire exercise of inspecting the property with the officers cemented an important, and somewhat embarrassing fact. He’d become complacent in the house, and neighborhood, and slacked off on basic precautions. They hadn’t been assholes about it, but Stern and Langley had taken pains to point out the intruder hadn’t needed Mission Impossible type skills to crack his web of security.
He liked the garage window open when he worked out, and he’d broken the habit of closing and locking it afterwards. He rarely locked the door leading from the garage to the house, because who wanted to fumble for his keys while holding an armful of groceries and shit?
His sister had installed an alarm system when she’d bought the place, which had seemed like a good idea for a single woman living alone, but he never bothered using the thing unless he went on vacation. Sometimes not even then.
He might as well have left the house wide open, he silently admitted as they made their way back to the living room. The guy had simply climbed in a window, walked through an unlocked door, and into the easiest pickings ever. Had it not been for Nelle’s eagle eyes, and Walt’s vigilante tendencies, he’d be filing a claim with his insurance company this evening—or worse. Maybe he didn’t get overly worked up about protecting a flat screen TV or the laptop he’d splurged on for Christmas, but he cared about protecting Madison and Joy. He’d promised them a safe place to stay and then failed to take normal measures to make good on the promise.
The sound of tires screeching to a halt outside had him pushing past the officers to get to the front door. Clearly, she’d jumped straight to worst-
case scenarios.
“Hunter…fuck, fuck, fuck…Hunter!” The last syllable ended on the wrong side of panic.
He pulled the door open and hit the porch in time to catch her as she scrambled up the steps. She was shaking so hard she could barely stand. Wild, fear-darkened eyes contrasted starkly with her pale face. Even her lips looked white. “Madison—”
“The baby. Please. Where is she?” Her attention shifted to the officers standing behind him, and her next words came out at a skull-splitting volume.
“Where…is…my…baby?”
…
Hunter’s big hands cupped her face. She tried to focus on him even as her vision started to go gray around the edges. He said something, but she couldn’t hear over the roar of blood in her ears, the thunder of her pulse, and the desperate effort to pull air into her lungs despite a steel band strapped tight across her chest. Suddenly, her world spun, and through a long, dark tunnel she saw Nelle running across the street with Joy in her arms.
The band around her chest snapped. She drew air into her lungs so quickly she nearly staggered. A strong arm came around her waist and held her up.
“Easy,” Hunter’s voice murmured in her ear. “Easy, baby.” He brushed her hair away from her sweat-drenched face. “She’s fine. She’s right there.”
“You poor thing,” Nelle whispered as she put Joy in her arms. “I should have brought her over here as soon as Hunter got home. I didn’t think…”
Madison hugged her daughter and shook her head. “No. I’m sorry.” Her words still came in pants. “I freaked out.” She lowered her head and breathed in Joy’s sweet scent—lavender-infused baby wash. “I’m sorry.” She leaned back against Hunter—strong, solid, calm Hunter—and added, “I think I screamed your ear clean off.”
“What?”
She sagged against him. “Very funny.” But not so funny she forgot there was a police car parked in front of the house and two officers standing in the living room. “What happened?”
Hunter steered her into the living room and sat her on the sofa. “A break-in, sort of, except nothing’s broken or missing. I think some neighborhood delinquent couldn’t resist the lure of the open garage window, but Nelle saw him going for the window and called Officers Stern and Langley.”
Emergency Delivery (Love Emergency) Page 15