by Jane Porter
“Not one day. Now,” TJ said, arms squeezing tighter.
“I can’t,” Trey said.
“Why not?” TJ pulled his head back to look at Trey.
McKenna was there now, in the street, shivering, teeth chattering. “TJ, get out of the truck right now. I’ve tried to be patient. I’ve tried to be understanding, but I can’t do it anymore. You can’t do this now. We have everybody waiting. Lawrence is waiting—”
“I don’t care!” TJ shouted at her. “I don’t like Lawrence. I don’t want Lawrence. I want my dad. He’s my real dad.”
McKenna paled. Her gaze lifted. She stared into Trey’s eyes. “Trey, tell him he has to come with me. Make him listen to you. I’m sure he’ll listen to you. Tell him he has no choice.”
McKenna’s eyes were a brilliant green, shimmering with emotion. She was angry and scared and he understood, he did. But at the same time, she had no idea what he’d been through, living without TJ these past four years. She had no idea what it was like to love someone so much and then be completely cut out…
Trey held her gaze, his voice soft. “Why doesn’t he have a choice?”
Her lips quivered. She pressed down, thinning them. “He’s five. He doesn’t know what’s true, or right, or real—”
Trey’s brows flattened. “Real? Am I not real? Is my love not real? Am I not here, fighting for him, fighting for a chance to be his father?”
“That’s not what I mean!”
“What do you mean?”
“He just…He just…” she took a quick breath, shivered, arms crossing over her chest, “doesn’t know.”
“Know what?”
She shrugged helplessly. “You.”
“Then maybe it’s time he does.”
Chapter Five
‡
McKenna suppressed a shiver as Trey’s dark head jerked up, his narrowed gaze locking with hers. For a split second she could see his shock. She’d hurt him. But in the next moment, the surprise disappeared, replaced by fury.
Mistake, she thought, inhaling sharply, she’d make a big mistake. Perhaps even a critical error.
You didn’t really want to make Trey angry. Not truly angry.
When pushed too far, Trey didn’t bend or yield. He didn’t compromise, nor was he a man of words.
Trey Sheenan was a man of action, and she could see from his hard, shuttered gaze that he was done talking. Done playing nice. Trey had tried diplomacy and he was reverting to what he did best: taking control.
Fighting.
And this time he was fighting her.
McKenna’s heart pounded. Her legs shook. She took a step toward him. “No, Trey, no,” she choked, seeing him place TJ in the middle of the truck’s bench seat. “Don’t do this.”
He clicked the seatbelt around the child’s waist and then turned the key in the ignition. The big truck roared to life. He had to raise his voice to be heard over the powerful engine. “I won’t have him thinking I don’t love him, Mac. I won’t have him believing I don’t care—”
“But this isn’t the way, Trey. This isn’t the answer.”
His brow creased, his jaw thickening. “He thinks I don’t love him. He thinks I don’t want him. Nothing could be further from the truth.”
“Take him out of the truck.”
“And put him on the curb and drive away like he isn’t my whole world? Like he’s not the most important thing in my life?” He drew a swift, shallow breath. “TJ’s the only reason I survived in that place. He’s the only reason I’m still here.” His deep voice dropped as he spit the words at her, each syllable sharp and rough. “He’s five and I’ve only had one Christmas with him and I want more. I want more with my son. And I deserve at least one Christmas with him before he becomes part of your new family with this other man.”
“TJ will always be your son, Trey.”
“Then you shouldn’t mind him spending one Christmas with me.” He slammed his door closed and shifted gears.
She pounded on his door. “You’re not taking him! You’re not—” She broke off as he swung the door back open. She fell back a step, tripping over the hem of her gown. “You can’t, Trey. It’s wrong. It’s illegal. You’ll be charged with kidnapping!”
“I’ve been charged with worse,” he retorted grimly.
She shook her head frantically. “But not this, Trey.”
“I don’t want my son to grow up without me.”
“You can’t just take him from me.”
“Fine. Then you can come with us, too.” And with stunning ease, he stood up, picked her off the ground and dropped her onto the truck seat, next to TJ. “Buckle up, darlin’. We’re heading out of town.”
*
Trey had done a lot of stupid things in his life, but this might just be the stupidest.
But had no choice. He had to do something. He couldn’t just stay there on Church Street fighting with McKenna in front of TJ and St. James.
She wasn’t fighting fair. Women never fought fair. They argued. They yelled. They cried. They used torrents of words, endless words, words that drowned a man in sound and nonsensical emotion.
He’d tossed her into the truck because he wanted TJ, and he knew very well he couldn’t take TJ from his mom, not on Christmas.
What kind of man would he be to separate a mother and young child on Christmas?
So he was bringing her along. Letting her come. He was being generous and thoughtful.
Magnanimous.
Not that she’d see it that way.
Nor would her groom, who they’d just left in the church with the guests and her brothers and his brother and good old Aunt Karen…
Aunt Karen would be the one to call the sheriffs. Aunt Karen would be delighted to hear he’d been arrested. Again.
Something hard and sharp turned in his gut. Regret filled him.
He’d just screwed up badly, hadn’t he? She sat beside him, a blur of white in his peripheral vision and didn’t say a word, but he didn’t need her to. He knew it. He knew what he’d done.
He flipped on the truck lights as he approached Highway 89, steering with a tight knuckled grip that made his hands ache. It was dark out. The wind whistled and howled.
He fiddled with the truck heater, the truck interior almost as chilly as the frigid temperature outside. But the biting cold was nothing compared to the ice in his heart.
He’d made a terrible mistake just now.
What was he thinking? Taking TJ, and McKenna, too?
What kind of madness had taken over him back there at St. James?
Merging onto the highway, easing into the traffic, he kept his gaze fixed on the road, while McKenna’s silence felt as huge as her gown.
He’d thought he’d finally grown up. He’d thought he’d changed. He was wrong. He was still stupid and impulsive, and what he was doing now, heading north on 89 with TJ and McKenna, was illegal. McKenna was right. This was kidnapping.
He’d only been out of jail one day and he’d already broken the conditions of his parole.
Trey exhaled in a low, slow rush, sickened, aware that he’d just proven Judge McCorkle and Karen Welsh and all the other skeptics that they were correct: he was a loser. A bad seed.
Leopards didn’t change their spots.
It didn’t matter now that he’d left Deer Lodge determined to make amends and be the stand up father TJ deserved. Good intentions were just that—intentions. What mattered was actions. And just look at his actions…
McKenna’s stillness only made his regret worse.
He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. She was rigid, staring out the window, her expression one of shock. And horror.
He’d failed her, again. Ruined one of the most important days in her life.
Damn all.
But TJ was oblivious to the tension. He’d buckled his seatbelt as they’d pulled away from the curb and now he was sitting tall, trying to see over the dash, curious about where they were going, but not afr
aid. From his bright eyes he looked excited. This to him was a great adventure.
McKenna must have her hands full with him. TJ didn’t just look like a Sheenan, he seemed to have inherited the Trey-Sheenan-Chaos DNA.
Not good. For McKenna, Marietta, or TJ himself.
Trey struggled to think of something he could say to her. He wanted to apologize, and yet at the same time he knew that if he was truly sorry, he’d turn around right now and take her back. Take them both back.
Taking them back now, before they traveled any further, would at least allow her to salvage today…marry and have her party and cake and dancing.
But he wasn’t that sorry.
He didn’t want her to marry Lawrence. He understood why she wanted to get married, why she wanted stability, but Lawrence…? Really?
McKenna deserved a real man. A strong man who’d love her deeply, passionately for all of his life.
The way he loved her.
The way he’d always love her.
He glanced at her again, the deepening twilight swallowing her profile. “McKenna—”
“Don’t say it.”
“I’m—”
“You’re not. And I don’t believe it. I know you.” Her voice was hoarse and it shook, trembling with emotion. “I once thought you were a dream, but I was wrong. You’re not a dream. You’re a nightmare, a never ending nightmare—” She broke off, shook her head, turned her face away, her white veil gleaming in the lavender-purple light.
He winced.
He deserved it, though.
“An Enderman,” TJ said brightly, breaking the silence. “You’re an Enderman, Dad.”
Trey glanced at him. “A what?”
“An Enderman,” TJ repeated. “An evil guy from Mine Craft. He’s all black kind of, like you.”
“What’s Mine Craft?”
“My favorite game. But I can only play on the weekends when I don’t have school and Mom lets me use her iPad.”
“Is there a good guy in Mine Craft?”
“Yeah, Steve. But I like Endermen better. They’re crazy. They’re also called Henchmen and they kill things—” he broke off, looked at Trey. “Not real things. It’s just a game. I promise.”
Trey wasn’t sure he liked being compared to a bad guy, and was pretty certain the comparison wasn’t lost on McKenna, either.
*
McKenna didn’t know if she should laugh or cry. Only TJ would think it was cool that his dad was a bad guy.
A henchman.
Only TJ would love an Enderman over Steve, the Mine Craft protagonist.
Only TJ would enjoy the drama and be excited about a road trip with his man-in-black, bad guy father.
But she wasn’t TJ. She wasn’t a wild, reckless Sheenan. She was a Douglas. She tried hard to be good, and thoughtful. Kind.
And yet, being kind today ruined everything.
At the church, she’d wanted to be kind and protect Trey’s feelings. She’d tried to save him from being embarrassed in front of his son. What a tactical error that had been, because in trying to protect Trey’s feelings, she’d lost control of the situation, giving Trey the upper hand.
And he hadn’t worried about her feelings. He hadn’t worried about doing the good thing, the kind thing. No, he’d swooped in, and taken advantage of the upper hand. He’d exploited her weakness.
But then, when had Trey had ever tried to be kind?
She bit down into her lower lip, trying to hold in all the angry words, not wanting to escalate things further, not wanting to get hysterical when TJ was caught in the middle.
TJ.
She glanced down at him and he was smiling, blissfully oblivious to the angry currents, or maybe being a Sheenan, he just didn’t mind them. Maybe being a Sheenan, he enjoyed the tension and fighting.
It boggled her mind that her son, the child she’d raised single handedly for the past four years, was his father in miniature.
How was that right?
How was that fair?
But then of course, life wasn’t fair. She’d learned that in 8th grade when she’d kissed her family goodbye and hopped into seventeen year old Rory’s truck so he could drive her to Jessica’s for a sleep over.
Her parents and three youngest siblings were slain within a half hour of her leaving. Fifteen year old Quinn—the only one at the house who survived—had been bludgeoned like the others, and left to die.
Quinn wasn’t supposed to survive. It was a miracle he had. But that night changed everything. That night taught her that life was short, and fate was capricious, and there was only now. There was only the present. You couldn’t go back. You couldn’t live in the future. Instead there was today, and today was too important to waste with anger, hatred, or regret.
Far better to live fully. Far better to love completely. Far better to forgive and forget and count one’s blessings.
This was the philosophy that had allowed her to love Trey all these years.
Forgiving, forgetting. Counting one’s blessings.
But after fifteen years of forgiving and forgetting she was tapped out. Her patience and her emotional reserves were gone. She had nothing left to give Trey. Nothing left at all, she repeated, watching the purple sky darken until the truck’s head beams were just pale circles of light piercing the night.
Unable to bite her tongue a moment longer, McKenna blurted, “This is crazy, Trey.”
He didn’t even hesitate. “Yeah.”
She heard the disappointment in his voice and it made her ache, and the fact that she could still care about his feelings just made her angrier.
She shouldn’t care for him. She shouldn’t care at all. He deserved what he got. He did.
He did.
She swallowed hard, fighting the lump in her throat. “So what are you doing?”
This time he took a moment to answer. His big shoulders shifted. “Buying time to be with my son.”
“Wrong way to go about it.”
He laughed low, the sound mocking. “When have I ever gone about anything the right way?”
“It’s one thing at eighteen, Trey, another at thirty-something!”
“Yeah. I know.” He shot her a swift glance, his profile hard in the dim light of the dash. “On the bright side, at least I’m giving you the chance to reconsider your decisions, and maybe you’ll come to your senses and realize that Lawrence isn’t the right guy—”
“And you are?”
“No. Not saying that. Couldn’t say that, especially not now, after doing this, but there has to be someone else in Marietta for you. Marrying Lawrence would be a mistake, and you know it.”
“Falling in love with you was the mistake!”
“Probably, so let me do you a favor. Help you out before you compound your mistakes. You don’t want Lawrence. He won’t make you happy. You and TJ both deserve better.”
“How can you say that? You don’t even know him!”
“I might not win any debate competitions, but I’m a pretty good judge of character.”
“Huh!”
“And Lawrence is weak. He has no back bone.”
“You think he should have wrestled you to the ground?”
“I think he needs to be a better role model for TJ.”
“What?” She shot TJ a swift glance and saw from his expression he was listening. She dropped her voice, trying to sound less agitated and confrontational. “He’s a perfect role model for TJ. He doesn’t drink or speed or stay out late or fight—”
“He probably pays all his taxes on time, too.”
“Yes, he does. And he donates money to lots of local charities.”
“What a great guy. Next thing you’ll tell me he volunteers to serve up meals at a homeless shelter on Thanksgiving morning.”
“He has in Bozeman, yes.”
“Wow, Mac. You lucked out. Larry Boy’s a real Prince Charming.”
“Yes. He is. And his name is Lawrence, not Larry, so knock off the attitude, turn
this truck around now, and take us back. I love him—”
“Please.”
“You’re so childish.”
“I’m not saying you need to love me, but honestly Mac, he’s too soft for you. And TJ will run all over him. Lawrence won’t have a clue how to manage our son.”
She looked away, staring pointedly out the window, even as his words ate at her, making her feel raw.
Trey was saying all the things she secretly worried about. Could Lawrence handle TJ? And maybe Lawrence could manage TJ now, but what about when TJ was ten? Thirteen? Seventeen?
What then?
But she wouldn’t let Trey know she was afraid, wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
Instead she had to get through to him. She had to talk sense into him, make him understand that this—what he was doing—was going to backfire in a horrible way.
“Just take us back,” she said, voice low. “It’s not too late to turn the truck around and take us back. I won’t press charges. I just want—”
“No.” Trey’s hands tightened on the steering wheel, his broad knuckles shining white against his olive skin. “No,” he repeated more quietly. “I can’t. I want a chance to get to know my son first.”
“Just because I’m getting married doesn’t mean you’re losing your son—”
“That’s not true. You have custody. Full custody—”
“You weren’t around for shared custody, buddy.”
“I get that. But I also know how this will work. You marry Larry and TJ will live with you and Larry, and Larry will become the Dad. I’ll be that guy who sends lame gifts on birthdays and Christmas.”
“Then don’t send lame gifts.”
Trey shot her a narrowed glance. “In the old days I would have laughed.”
“Yeah. ‘Cause in the old days it would have been funny.” Her throat ached and her eyes burned. “But this isn’t funny, Trey. What you are doing isn’t funny. It’s illegal. You’re breaking the law. You’ll be going back to jail for a long long time—”