His Baby to Keep: A Forbidden Romance

by Katie Ford

  “Thanks Rach, I’ll take it from here,” I said, sliding an arm around my brother’s waist. He weighed two tons, like a fucking bull in a china shop, difficult to control, slipping and sliding everywhere.

  “Take it easy, bro,” I said, settling him onto the couch. “Just relax.”

  “WHERE’S KRISSY? WHERE’S MY DAUGHTER?” he roared, a cry of pain to the heavens.

  I knew how he felt. I knew how much he missed our beautiful step, her sweet smile, that luscious body always willing to accommodate two cocks. But the thing is, I don’t want her to see Tyler like this, reduced to this pathetic mass of uncontrolled hate and fear. Until this alcohol addiction is resolved, we’re not going anywhere near Michigan.

  It’s really quite sad. Krissy’s been in Michigan on her own with the baby for almost a year now. I know she’s tried to reach us, but to be safe, I always tell our secretary to screen her calls.

  “Just tell her we’re busy, yeah?” I said.

  “Whatever you like, Mr. Lyon,” she replied. “Should I say that to your parents too?”

  “Yeah, it’s probably better if you do,” I ground out.

  Fuck this alcoholism thing is fucking impossible. It’s really the only thing holding us back. My brother and I are fine financially. We have millions socked away, some of it in overseas accounts, and Bar Brass is doing fine. Maybe we haven’t been promoting it aggressively, but it’s because we want to lay low for a while. After all that’s happened, the Lyon twins are recognizable as the dudes who brought down the governor and it’s better to stay out of the limelight. But hey, we’ll be back on the circuit soon enough, as soon as Tyler shapes up.

  So business-wise, things are fine and thank fuck, we’re not in jail. But our personal life is in tatters because my brother’s developed a drinking habit and I can’t let Krissy and our daughter see him like this. What to do?

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Krissy

  I scanned the papers again, trying to find those photos where I’d seen Rachel with my brothers. Ah, here was one. The beautiful bartender had her head bent close to Tyler and Troy, their dark hair making them almost look like siblings. But the truth was I was their sister, not Rachel.

  I looked more closely, and my breath caught in my chest. Because I saw something that I’d never noticed before, the image partially obscured by a passerby. In the bottom right of the photo, almost out of frame, I could see Tyler and Rachel holding hands, as if they were lovers.

  Fuck! My brain screeched with pain, like hot oil was being poured all over my body. My brother … at least one of them … was cheating on me. Suddenly it all came into place. They’d shipped me off to Michigan, sure, to shield me from the trial, to keep whispers at bay while I was pregnant with their baby. But now, I’d been abandoned in these remote outskirts, our daughter unacknowledged, because my brothers had taken up with another woman.

  The shock and grief overwhelmed me.

  “Mom?” My voice quivered when my mom picked up. I was lucky to even get a hold of her. “Mom, can you hear me?” I tried again.

  “Baby, where are you?” she asked. “We’ve been so worried, and Tyler and Troy won’t take our calls either. Where are you? I’m coming right now.”

  I was gratified that my mom’s first instinct was to rush to my side. But her comforting words weren’t enough for the searing pain.

  “Mom, I have something to confess,” my voice trembled.

  “Honey, whatever it is, I’m sure it’s okay,” she said soothingly. “Robert and I, we’ve been trying to find you for the last year, but you disappeared. Why honey? What’s going on?”

  “Mom …” I continued. “I had the baby out here in Michigan … because the baby’s fathers are Troy and Tyler,” I said faintly.

  That got my mom. A crackling silence ensued, the line silent and staticky as my mom took in the import of my words.

  “Honey,” she said calmly. “What do you mean Tyler and Troy are the fathers? There can only be one dad,” she said.

  I took this as a good sign. At least she was focused on the biological aspect, and hadn’t made screeching sounds about fucking my brothers, how we were related, etc.

  “They’re identical twins,” I said with a small hitch in my voice. “They have the same DNA so there’s no way to tell who Annie’s father is. And mom,” I added miserably, “I don’t know who the father is because I was sleeping with them both.”

  Again, ominous silence. But then my mom’s voice came back on, oddly maternal and comforting.

  “Oh honey, Robert and I guessed something happened between you and the twins, when you disappeared and your brothers wouldn’t take our calls. We knew something had happened, and well … we didn’t know how to bring it up. We didn’t know how to broach this sensitive issue, although I was ready to fly in and give them a piece of my mind. Instead, Robert convinced me to be patient. But honey, what went wrong? Why aren’t you with your brothers? Are they not good dads?”

  And the story came tumbling out, how I’d been alone in Michigan for the past year, how Annie hadn’t even met her fathers yet. I cried, the tears streaming hot and fast down my cheeks, the first time I’d unburdened myself during this difficult, terrible time.

  My mom clucked and murmured in all the right places, but her reaction was different from what I expected. Instead of saying “ditch those guys, they’re losers,” she suggested the opposite.

  “Honey, why are you still in Michigan? What are you waiting for if the trial’s already over?”

  “I don’t know Ma. I figured Troy and Tyler would send for me once everything was settled … but they didn’t.” I started sobbing again.

  My mom sighed heavily.

  “Honey, I know I haven’t been around since I married Robert, but for seventeen years I was a single mom, so tough times aren’t new. We didn’t get you through junior high without a fight, right? So be that woman now … go and find your future. Search for it, make your brothers face you if that’s what it takes.”

  Was that the right thing to do? Had I been a weak wallflower, shamefully accepting the twins’ money and bad behavior? My mom and I had struggled financially when I was growing up, but perhaps it had been worth it. Maybe to develop a sense of independence and self-worth, I needed to draw boundaries, to stand up for myself. Had I forgotten all that in the past year?

  Suddenly, I knew my mom was right. I needed to confront my brothers, show them Annie, and challenge them to do right by us. What was happening was simply unacceptable, and there was no way it could, or should, go on, monthly checks be damned.

  “Ma … I think you’re right,” I said softly. “I need to face my fears. I need to go to New York, and … if there’s another woman, I need to confront them about it.” I choked slightly at these words.

  “That’s right,” said my mom. “And remember, you’re not just their sister or girlfriend. You’re the mother of their child now, a woman in full. They need to understand that, and pay you the respect you deserve.”

  “Thank you, Ma,” I murmured softly. “I’m going to book a ticket right now, for me and the baby.”

  “And honey, if you need anything, I want you to come to me, okay? We’re the Lyon girls, we stick together,” she reminded me. “I’m always a hundred percent behind you. I’m so proud of you for having a baby on your own. It ultimately doesn’t matter that Annie’s dads are her uncles too, okay? I love you.”

  “Thanks Ma,” I said softly. “I love you too.”

  And as I hung up the phone, I realized my mom was right. The real Kristen had been lost in the last year, in a deep spiral of gloom and depression. But she was coming back … even if my brothers didn’t like it.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  Troy

  Things have just gotten more shit with Tyler. I’m sure now that Rachel is a bad influence. More than just a bad influence, she’s an enabler, and I would even go so far as to say that she had some hidden role in the Haley scandal.

  “
So, how many times did you sleep with Governor Haley again?” I asked.

  “Well,” she hedged. “He was so rich and horny, he actually used quite a few of us,” she said.

  I tried to think back. It was true, the governor had used quite a few of our girls, but our files had been confiscated before I could figure out which ones. Plus, my brother and I hadn’t been permitted in the court room while other witnesses testified, so we still didn’t know which hookers had turned.

  “Rachel,” I said grimly. “How many girls testified against Haley?”

  She colored, and looked away, embarrassed. I mean, I wouldn’t want to admit that I’d fucked a sixty year-old man for money either, but whatever, she got paid.

  “Troy,” she sighed. “I was the only one.”

  “So you were the one who told the feds about Club Luxe then, right? You were the one who led them to us,” I said.

  She colored again. “Yes, but I had to! The government wouldn’t grant me immunity unless I told them who I worked for.”

  But there was more shit to come.

  “Rachel,” I said slowly. “Did you wear a wire when you were working? Not just when you were fucking Haley, but when you were talking business with me and Tyler? Were you recording us?”

  She shook her head no, but then slowly nodded yes when she saw the disbelieving look on my face.

  “I had to Troy,” she whispered. “They made me do it. I’m so sorry.”

  And suddenly I realized how our safe room had been breached, how they’d gotten my fingerprints. Rachel had led them right to the money pot, spewing everything, all the while pretending to be our confidante. The crisis wasn’t her fault per se, but her duplicity was shocking, especially because we’d trusted her. In the end, she’d been protecting her own ass all along, trading us in on a silver platter for immunity from prosecution.

  My thoughts must have showed because she started crying and pleading with me.

  “Please Troy! I love you and Tyler, and you must know that Tyler’s fallen in love with me!” she said, hot tears trailing down her face, smearing her mascara and blush.

  But I didn’t give a fuck. Once a traitor, always a traitor, and I realized we’d been too kind to her. We’d eaten up her story, convinced that she was genuine because of our long history together. But that had been a crock of shit. She’d just been covering her own tracks, her own motives in the Haley case.

  And now shit was seriously fucked up. She’d attached herself to Tyler and was convinced that he loved her? Fuck that.

  “Get out,” I growled. “Get the fuck out before I throw you out.”

  “No,” she whimpered. “Please Troy. Tyler needs me, you know his whole drinking thing has gotten out of hand. Please,” she begged.

  “He’s a fucking alcoholic because you made him that way! You provided the booze, you took him out slumming … where the fuck did you guys go tonight? Some seedy little joint that he’d never go if he was sober?” I raged. “Once a street hooker, always a street hooker,” I snarled.

  “No!” she screamed. “I’m not! I’ve moved beyond that!” she sobbed, collapsing into a heap on the floor.

  But I didn’t care. I grabbed her under the armpits and hauled her to the front door, almost pulling her by the hair at one point, she was screaming and thrashing so much.

  “No!” she shrieked again. “Tyler needs me!”

  But I didn’t give a shit, this piece of turd was pure garbage. I opened the front door and hurled her onto the street, shoving, not caring that she looked a slutty mess. The old mantra was right. You can fuck the shit out of a girl, but there’s always more shit. Fuck this.

  But as Rachel stumbled and gasped, she narrowly bumped into another woman holding a baby. And I looked up into the shocked eyes of Krissy, our long-lost lover, our sister.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  Krissy

  Troy pulled me in by the arm, manhandling me really, trying to get me to safety.

  “Krissy,” he roared. “Get away from that piece of shit.”

  I took that he meant Rachel, who looked worse for the wear. Not only was she wearing a cheap, slutty outfit, but her eyes were red and blood-shot, she had serious acne, and her hair was a tangled, greasy mess. What happened to the pretty bartender I had once known?

  But it seemed that she’d rubbed Troy the wrong way. Seriously the wrong way.

  Once inside, I tried to hush Annie, cuddling my baby close, shushing her wails. Troy looked thunderstruck. He gazed at the little girl in my arms, his eyes taking in the small, bundled form.

  “Oh Krissy,” he rumbled. “I’m so sorry …” his voice trailed.

  At first I hesitated. I was angry with my brothers and wasn’t about to give up my child to fathers who hadn’t been present for the past year. But I knew I needed to keep this civil. They were my baby’s daddies no matter what, and it was better for Annie to know them.

  Gently, so as not to startle the baby, I murmured, “Do you want to hold her?”

  And he nodded silently, a huge smile breaking out on his face. Slowly, I passed her over and surprisingly, Annie quieted in his arms. Pretty soon she was gurgling happily, looking up at him, her little hand reaching out to grab his watch.

  “She’s beautiful,” he breathed. Looking up at me with shining eyes, he said, “Looks just like her beautiful mother.”

  I knew this wasn’t true. After all, I have brown hair and brown eyes, so Annie’s coloring was definitely from them. But I guess … if you’re in love, then you see your partner’s features in your child.

  Wait a minute. Full stop. Was I kidding myself? Was Troy still in love with me?

  He could see the question in my eyes, and nodded slowly.

  “Krissy, I’m so sorry about everything that’s happened,” he said. “Tyler and I, we weren’t there for our baby and we never called you, I know. But shit here has been bad … even worse than when the trial was going on,” he said.

  What could have happened? And where was Tyler?

  And Troy slowly started filling me in on what I’d missed …

  EPILOGUE

  Krissy

  Six months later …

  These past months have been tough. Really, really tough. Troy told me about Tyler’s alcoholism, how the combination of stress, a high-profile trial, losing their business, and losing me had caused him to drink. Throw in a bipolar woman, a person who’d conned them really, pretending to be their friend all the while delusional about her love for Tyler, and it was a toxic brew which drove him over the edge.

  The first thing we’d done was to check Tyler into rehab. He hadn’t wanted to go, but Troy wouldn’t back down.

  “Shut up brother, shut the fuck up,” had been his parting words. And it had worked, fortunately. Without Rachel’s influence, Tyler was able to break his addiction and come back to us within a matter of weeks. He was now baby Annie’s biggest fan, playing with her, giving her baths and meals when he wasn’t busy doing deals.

  Because Troy and Tyler are back in the entertainment business. I don’t think it’s easy for them, especially Tyler because he’s around booze constantly, but their new business ventures have really taken off. Seems that the twins haven’t lost their touch, high-rollers flocking to their glitzy venues, the money rolling in, their past notoriety a boon, making them even more popular.

  But the twins are much more careful now. I don’t think they’d ever let a teenager sit in coat check again, not the way they let me. And they’re on the right side of the law, careful to dot every i and cross every t, unwilling to relive the pain of the past year.

  And I’m nervous about the past too, but determined to live in the present. I haven’t slept with my brothers since my return, I was just jumpy and … I didn’t trust them for a while, you know what I mean? There was good reason for what had happened, but I couldn’t forget that quickly.

  But tonight, I’ve decided, is going to be a special night. I’m almost over the edge with lust, my cunny constantly
wet, dying to be touched, my nipples stiff and aching. Tyler and Troy haven’t made a move recently, knowing that I needed time to forgive them, to let my heart re-open after they’d neglected me and our baby for so long.

  But after six months of recuperation, the time has come. They’re good with Annie, our baby soaking up the attention of her doting daddies, and it’s time to explore sex once again, sex with these men who love me, both as brothers and as husbands.

  Because yes, we got married today. We had a civil ceremony where Troy and I were united, Tyler looking on as best man with Annie in his arms. So even the law can’t pull us apart now, and we’re public about our relationship. Yes, I married my stepbrother, and I love them both very much.

  A knock came on the door.

  “Baby, are you ready?” growled Troy.

  “I know we are,” rumbled Tyler through the door.

  Ah, my husbands were here for their wedding night. Quickly, I checked my reflection, giving my hair one more brush, before throwing open the door.

  The twins’ collective gasp was worth the wait. I’d decided to greet them … in the nude. My body as on full display, from my mocha-colored nipples, stiff and begging for their attention, to my glistening pink slit, ready for male penetration. I’d worn only white high heels, a nod to bridal tradition.