Bombshell (The Rivals Book 3)

by Geneva Lee

  “Couldn’t stay away for Christmas?” she guesses, filling in the awkward silence between us.

  “I guess not,” I force myself to say.

  “I can’t blame you,” she says, continuing to do the heavy lifting of small talk. “I’d want to come meet my new niece, too.”

  “New niece…” I repeat with a slight shake of the head like a wire’s crossed inside my brain.

  “I’ve heard their back with the baby,” Poppy says as though this is obvious. “I mean everyone is talking about the cancelled Christmas party. No one can blame them. Having a baby and half of Valmont in the same house—-even Windfall—is a bit much. Ginny is probably exhausted.”

  The room constricts with each word she speaks until I feel like I’m about to implode. The heart I thought I’d left behind beats so rapidly that I can’t bring myself to stop her—to correct her—before my brain begins frantically piecing together what she’s saying.

  “Where did you hear they were back with a baby?” I finally manage to ask, hoping news is traveling slowly, hoping that this is all a misunderstanding, hoping that the dread I feel is unwarranted.

  “Everyone’s talking about. Probably since no one’s seen them since they arrived,” she says. “Is Ginny a really paranoid mom? Or are you two still on bad terms?”

  I’m on my feet before she finishes the last question.

  “I have to go,” I blurt out. Only then remembering that I don’t have a car. I whip out my phone and request a ride, trying to swallow against the bile threatening to spill out of me all over the scuffed tile floor.

  “What’s wrong?” Poppy says, her eyes wide as if my obvious panic is wearing off on her.

  But there’s no time. No time to explain. “I have to go. Why are there no Ubers?”

  “I can drive you.” She grabs her purse.

  “No, I should…”

  A confused employee in a black apron appears with two trays full of food, stepping back before I nearly knock him over in my attempt to run out the door. Poppy yells a thanks and follows after me.

  I don’t think I just start heading toward the street, planning to run in the direction I came from, hoping I can remember my way.

  “Adair!” Poppy’s frantic cry slices through the air, and I stop instinctively. “What are you doing? Let me drive you.”

  I turn to look at her, my teeth sinking into my lower lip and realize she’s my best option. She doesn’t ask any questions until we’re both inside her car.

  “Where am I going?” It’s simple. It’s to the point.

  “The Half-point Motel. It’s about ten minutes away,” I say, punching it into my phone to get directions. I wait for the questions that I’m sure will follow this information, but she starts driving, even though her brow furrows.

  “I’m sorry,” I say, between panicked pants. “I should have told you. We just have to get to her. Maybe it’s all a mistake.”

  “Darling, you aren’t making sense,” Poppy says soothingly. “You can explain later. Just try to breathe. We’ll be there soon.”

  Poppy’s driving is anxiety-inducing on the best days. Today, she barely stays on the road, leaving me to clutch the door handle as we swing recklessly between lanes, but I don’t say anything because we are flying and right now, I can only think of reaching Ellie.

  It’s all a misunderstanding, I tell myself. But I’m a MacLaine. I always know a lie when I hear it. The trouble is that I haven’t been listening. I was so desperate for a solution that I didn’t see what’s right in front of me. The skeevy motel. Ginny’s overly helpful attitude. Her willingness to help me get home and sort through this.

  “Please be wrong,” I mutter under my breath over and over. Poppy casts a worried look in my direction before jerking the wheel hard to pass a slower vehicle at breakneck speed.

  “There it…” I start to point out the faded, old motel as it comes into view but my words die from my lips when I spot the flashing red and blue lights. Two police cars and an ambulance occupy the spots in front of my room. Poppy slams on the brakes and we skid to a halt in the parking lot. I’m out of the car instantly, running toward the police officers and the open hotel door. I’m nearly there when one steps in front of me, holding out his palm.

  “Miss, I’m going to need you to—-”

  “My baby!” I yell, trying to push past him. “Is something wrong? Is she okay?”

  “Your infant was inside?” he asks.

  “Yes, I don’t understand.” I look around and realize Ginny’s car is gone. “Did she kidnap her?

  But the officer is talking into his radio, no longer paying attention to me. “The mother’s here. Yeah, I’ll take care of it.”

  “Where’s my baby?” I demand.

  “Your baby is fine,” he says, but there’s no softness in his face. Instead, he looks disgusted. “A concerned guest called when they heard the crying, and the management let us into the room.”

  “Wait? What? She was crying, but where was…”

  “She’s been taken into protective services. You can’t leave a baby alone around here. Do you have any idea what could have happened? You’re lucky someone even called. This area isn’t full of a lot of concerned citizens.”

  “I didn’t leave her alone.” How could he think that? “She was with…”

  “You should be more careful about who you trust, because we found her locked in that room wearing nothing but a dirty diaper on the bed. And I know the weather isn’t that cold, but a baby that little can’t regulate their body temperature.”

  Now I understand the disgust, because I feel it myself. It coils around me and squeezes until I’m sure I’m going to throw up. My knees weaken and I sway on the spot. Ellie was alone. Scared. Cold. And it’s all my fault.

  “Please. This is all a misunderstanding.” I can’t believe anything else, even though I know, deep down, this was planned. “My name is Adair MacLaine. I left her with my sister-in-law. She rented the room. There must be a record. If we can just talk to her or the manager.”

  “I know who you are, Miss MacLaine. Your name is on the registration.”

  “I didn’t rent the room,” I start to explain.

  “Your credit card is on file. It says you arrived here earlier today.”

  “Yes, I flew in from London.” I can’t believe this is happening. I can’t believe I was stupid enough to trust them.

  “And you have family nearby?”

  I know he recognizes the name, but he’s not interested in doing me any favors. “If I could just call my father.”

  “He’s been notified,” the officer says. “Protective services prefer to reach out to family in these cases. Sometimes the child can bypass foster care when there’s an appropriate guardian available.”

  “No, you can’t do that!” I say wildly.

  “You really haven’t left us a choice,” he says coldly. “If you won’t care for your baby…”

  “I love her. I would never do anything to hurt h—”

  “You already have,” he cuts me off, and the rebuke knocks the wind out of me.

  He’s right. Not in the way he thinks. I didn’t abandon Ellie, but I put my trust in the wrong person and she paid the price. She’s become a bargaining chip—another possession for the family to fight over. I never should have brought her back to Valmont. I never should have taken that risk.

  “Is everything okay?” Poppy steps by my side.

  I didn’t see her leave the car. How can I explain this to her? But then I realize, she might be my only hope. She knows me. Her family is powerful. Maybe—just maybe—all isn’t lost. I cling to the idea like a life raft.

  “Miss, this is official police business,” the officer says dismissively, making additional notes on his pad.

  “Perhaps, I should ring Captain Larkin,” she says sweetly, but her dark eyes narrow into slits. She might not know what’s going on, but she has my back. “I need to speak to him about the police officer’s ball my family is
hosting. I’m certain he can clear things up.”

  The officer pauses and finally looks at her. He sighs, dropping his head a little. “I have no idea what is going on here,” he says. “I only know the facts. Captain Larkin’s already abreast of the situation.”

  “How?” I butt in. All of this is happening so fast. Too fast.

  Planned. Planned. Planned. The word skips around my brain to an irritating tune like my own mind is upset with me. Because I knew before I ever landed in Nashville or stepped foot on the plane, even before Daddy arrived in London with the adoption paperwork, that I was outmatched. Three against one with no allies of my own.

  “Believe it or not, he doesn’t tell me these things,” he says in a clipped tone. “But he’s been quite clear on the situation. We’re to work directly with your family. You should thank him really, he’s put a gag on talking to the media. Anyone talks and he’s firing everyone who touches this case.” He stalks off to talk to another officer.

  “What is going on, Adair?” Poppy sounds genuinely scared. She has to have pieced together a bit of what’s going on. She knows I’m hiding something.

  None of that matters. I dart closer to the room, trying to get to the door. I just need to see her. I just need to know she’s okay. The officer looks up from his conversation and places one warning hand on his holster.

  I nod as if to say I understand and that I’m not going to try anything.

  Poppy joins me, watching but not speaking, and we creep to the open door. There’s another officer in the room, taking photographs, and a pair of medics blocking the view of the bed. My heart beats like a an animal caught in a trap, desperately trying to break free but knowing the effort is futile. There’s a balled up diaper on the floor. My bags are gone from the table. The room is bare and sterile until a shrill cry shatters the somber scene. I’m vaguely aware of Poppy’s startled jump, but I don’t think. I just go.

  “I’m going to need you to back up,” the officer says.

  “Please,” I sob, my own tears matching Ellie's panicked cries. “She needs me. I didn’t leave her. I won’t take her. Just let me calm her down.”

  The officer looks over, her eyes meeting that of the female medic’s. Some silent conversation passes between them, before the medic nods.

  “Just get her calm,” the female officer says, “but don’t go anywhere. Don’t make this any worse.”

  I rush to the bed, snatching Ellie up and trying to ignore the medical instruments strewn around her. They had to check her out after they found her like this.

  “Is she okay?” I ask the medic, cuddling her close. Ellie’s face turns into me, quieting for a moment before she begins to root.

  “Cold,” she says warily. “But otherwise in excellent health.” I hear it there: doubt.

  Can she see how this doesn’t make sense?

  “I didn’t leave her,” I say numbly, lifting her tiny hands to kiss her fingers. “I will never leave her.”

  Another look is exchanged, but neither speaks. They’ve been given their orders.

  Poppy steps into the room, hesitating near the door. She’s smart enough to understand what’s going on. I owe her an explanation. We both know it, but now isn’t the time, because I don’t know how much time I have left.

  “Should I call Captain Larkin?” she asks, but the question rings hollow. We both know that he’s already been called by someone with more power and money and influence, by a man you don’t say no to if you want to keep your public service job.

  I shake my head. I just want to be here while I can. I push aside anxious images of what comes next: fighting and threats and loss. Because even as I try to focus on this moment—on the feeling of my daughter in my arms—scenarios play out in my mind, and they all end the same way no matter what path I take.

  Two weeks ago, I’d sat in London trying to figure out how to say goodbye and knowing it was impossible. It still is. But sometimes goodbyes are a luxury the world doesn’t give you. Sometimes life just takes and leaves you with more scars than memories. If you ever heal at all.

  I don’t have enough memories. I never will.

  “Miss MacLaine, we need to take her now,” the officer says gently. She doesn’t try to pry Ellie out of my arms. She’s giving me time, precious little of it, but still time.

  “Please, don’t.” But I know no one is coming to save us. There’s only one person who might have once, and he doesn’t even know we need him. He never will. Because of me. This is all because of me.

  “What is going on?” The officer from earlier stomps into the room, and I can’t bear to look at him. I hear everything I need to know in his tone. He’s not going to let this ruin his career. He’s got his orders. Whatever crisis of conscience won me a little leniency from the others doesn’t afflict him.

  I bury my face against Ellie’s soft head and breathe in her scent, feel her downy hair tickle my nose, pray that the world stops spinning and we stay in this one moment forever.

  And then it’s ripped away.

  She’s ripped away, torn from my arms, along with my heart, torn from my chest. I lunge and reach and stretch to reach her until a metal cuff clamps around my wrist. A small voice reads me my rights, but all I hear are my own screams and her cries. I fight and fight and fight.

  And lose.

  I wait outside the dance studio, sunglasses hiding my swollen eyes. The tears have finally stopped, but in their place is a hole that hollows me to the core. When Ginny’s white Lexus pulls into a handicapped spot close to the entrance, I scramble out of the Jag before she can beat me inside.

  “Hurry up, Ellie,” Ginny snaps as Ellie chats animatedly, unbuckling herself with the distracted air of someone mid-story.

  “But I was just getting to the part where Felix told me—” Ellie protests.

  “You are five minutes late.”

  I’d planned to wait until Ellie was inside and then confront my sister-in-law, but something inside me breaks when Ginny yanks her out of the seat and begins dragging her toward the door. I step into her path, arms crossed.

  “Drop her arm,” I say quietly.

  “Auntie Dair!” Ellie squeaks, trying to run toward me.

  Ginny’s grip tightens and Ellie yelps. I take a step closer, and she finally lets her go. Still glaring at Ginny, I bend down and Ellie throws her arms around me. I ignore the horrified look on Ginny’s face and soak up as much of the hug as possible.

  “I missed you. It’s been two days!” She strains against my arms, so she can look me in the eye. “Are you really not coming home?”

  I wrap her back in a hug. “I live somewhere else now.”

  “With Mr. Ford?” she asks.

  “No.” I shake my head. “Not right now.”

  “But you love him, right?” Ellie presses. “Mommy told Felix that you were blinded by love and that’s why you left. Is that why you’re wearing sunglasses?”

  I can’t quite hold back a tell-tale sniffle, so I take them off. “No. I see just fine.”

  “Promise?” she holds out her pinky finger.

  I hook mine around hers. “I promise.”

  “But if you aren’t blinded by love, you can come home,” she says.

  She’s turning into quite the little lawyer.

  “Ellie, you’re late,” Ginny reminds her in a strained voice.

  “I have to go to dance class.” She sticks her tongue out like she’s being punished. “Will you wait?”

  I glance at Ginny, who pauses mid-text to wait for my answer. “Not tonight,” I say, “but I’m glad I got to see you.”

  “I miss you!” Ellie buries her face against my shoulder. “They took all your stuff out of your room. I looked and looked and there’s nothing and Felix says it’s okay because I got mammaries.”

  “Memories,” I correct gently. Reaching to my neck, I unclasp the silver clover. “Do you know what this is?” I place it around her neck.

  Ellie takes the charm in her fingertips and studies
it with awe, before shaking her head.

  “It’s a good luck charm,” I tell her, leaning back on my heels. “A four leaf clover. When you wear it, I’ll be with you the whole time.”

  “Promise?” This time she doesn’t hold out her pinkie. She just stares into my eyes. I see Sterling there, looking back at me. Hopeful and a little angry and trusting and innocent. He doesn’t see himself that way. He never has but it’s so much clearer to see those parts of him in the eyes of his daughter.

  “I promise.” And I mean it with every fiber of my being. Standing up, I give her a quick kiss on the forehead and shoo her inside. She studies the charm the whole way.

  “I should call the police,” Ginny says when the door closes behind her.

  “And tell them what?” I ask. “What lie will you spin this time?”

  “You know that we were given guardianship over her. You can’t just show up and put ideas in her head and—”

  “Guardianship,” I cut her off. “I’m still her mother in every way. You two are not her parents.”

  “Are you threatening me? Maybe I should call the police. I should have when you broke your promise and he came to the house. How could you do that? How could you tell him after what he’s done to this family? He’s only going to hurt you and her.”

  “He would never do that.”

  “Then why didn’t you put his name on the birth certificate?” she demands.

  “I don’t have to explain myself to you. Not anymore.” I take a step towards her and she flinches, but this time there’s no Malcolm there to step in and save her. It’s been a long time since he cared enough to concern himself. “It’s time to fight your own battle—face-to-face—this time.”

  “I always fight my own battles,” she seethes.

  “No, you don’t. Did you know I felt sorry for you once? I thought you were in over your head with my family, but now I know you’re just like my brother and my father—even my mother. There’s always an excuse for their behavior. There’s always an angle to be manipulated. But you can’t change basic facts. I’m her mother. You aren’t.”

  “You don’t stand a chance against us.” Her hands ball into fists as her face goes pale. “Nothing’s changed. We still have all the lawyers, all the money, the police report, the witnesses.”