Final Sharp Turn (Sharp Turn Saga #3)

by Faye Byrd

  Trystan chuckles, but it turns into a sigh. “One day, maybe.”

  As four more people join us in the small space, I stiffen and turn, situating myself in his embrace. “Don’t do that. It will happen, and with the way Cam’s progressing, I’d say sooner than you think.”

  “Shit, Easton,” he says, gripping my hips even tighter. “Look at the mess I’ve gotten us into right now. Maybe after we get it straightened out, I’ll be able to think more in that direction.”

  “You’ve gotten us into no such thing,” I say, my hackles rising. “No one has control over another person’s actions, and it’s about time you accepted that.”

  His shoulders relax, and he pushes his forehead against mine. “I love you.”

  I press my lips briefly to his. “And I love you. Now, stop blaming yourself and let’s go talk with our dads.” I take his hand, pulling him through the elevator doors.

  The walk to the cafeteria is quiet, but I think we’ve said enough. No matter what these two men say, we know each other and where we stand on the subject. Kennedy is a problem, and she’s one we’re going to have to face head-on.

  “Ah, there you are,” Dad says as we approach a semi-secluded table in the corner where he and Reed are seated.

  Trystan’s eyes fall to the floor, shame coloring his features. “I’m sorry.”

  “Hey,” my dad says, gaining his attention. “No need. I get it. I want to throttle that woman myself.”

  Reed is sitting there, every muscle in his body tense. “We need a plan of action. Take a seat and let’s get down to business.” He tilts his head to a couple of empty chairs.

  I tug Trystan’s hand to get his attention. “Love you,” I mouth.

  He takes a deep breath and gives me a small smile as he pulls out my chair. After we’re both seated, he kisses my cheek then turns to our dads. “What are your thoughts?”

  Reed props his forearms on the table, his voice low. “I have deep pockets. She can willingly disappear, or I can make her.”

  My dad sputters and covers his ears. “Shut up, Reed! You can’t say shit like that around me.”

  Trystan leans back, holding up his hands in a placating manner. “Hold up. Let me talk for a minute.” He gives his father a brow lift when he looks as if he might speak. “Look, I don’t want to always wonder when she’ll be back. If we try to pay her off, she can always show up again demanding more. I’m not ready for a lifetime of that.”

  “Me either,” I say with a sigh. “I want her out of our lives for good.”

  Reed nods, agreeing with me. “Exactly what I’m say―”

  “Dad, stop it,” Trystan interrupts. “First, you’re sitting beside a fucking agent from the MIU, and second, she may be a sorry sack of shit who didn’t want her son, but she doesn’t deserve to disappear.” He makes air quotes when he says disappear.

  Reed leans back, clearly not agreeing with Trystan’s assessment, but he decides to hold his tongue. “Fine, son. What do you suggest?”

  My dad clears his throat. “How about we use a little of you and a little of me?” He thumbs between himself and Reed, and that makes even me curious.

  Reed’s brows rise in interest. “I’m listening.”

  So my father lays out a plan.

  A plan we can only hope will get Kennedy out of our lives.

  For good.

  Day 25

  Cam and I are playing a game of Go Fish when Trystan and Blake enter the room. Blake doesn’t even stop to say hi as he climbs into a chair and up onto Cam’s bed. In turn, the cards are shoved in my direction as Cam gives his brother a tight hug.

  “Hey, brother,” Blake says, his words muffled by Cam’s arms.

  “What took so long?” Cam asks, pulling back and looking at Blake very seriously.

  Blake rolls his eyes. “Blame Daddy, he slow.”

  Cam cuts his narrowed eyes to Trystan. “Why you not hurry, Daddy?”

  Trystan chuckles and goes over, covering his face with kisses. “I missed you, dude.”

  Cam shrugs him away, embarrassed. “I see you all the time. I missed Blake.” He says it so simply that it brings tears to my eyes.

  I slide from the bed and tilt my head for Trystan to join me in the periphery. We know the strain this separation has caused the boys and that Cam loves us both very much, but this time, right now, is for him and his brother.

  “Good morning, baby,” I greet him, then plant a peck on his pouty lips.

  “Did you just see that? The kid dumped me,” he says with a tilt of his head at the boys.

  I look at them and can’t help but giggle. “I saw. I think Cam’s tired of us.” I nod in their direction. “Look at them.” He turns and focuses on our adorable boys who are locked in a hug.

  He shakes his head and closes his eyes, savoring the moment. “I’m so glad they can finally be together.”

  “Me too,” I agree with a satisfied sigh.

  Day 27

  As I pick up my coffee to take a sip, I notice Katherine approaching. “Good morning, Easy, Trystan. Do you mind if I sit for a second?” She doesn’t wait for a reply, instead taking a seat across from us.

  “No, join us, please,” Trystan says sarcastically, waving a hand to where she’s already seated.

  She gives him a smirk before turning serious. “I’d love to spar, but other things take precedence this morning. Miss Kennedy Parker has filed suit against this hospital for the wrongful switch of her children at birth.”

  My eyes widen. “Parker?”

  Trystan rolls his eyes. “Yes, Parker. Do you think I let that woman keep my name after she walked away from us?”

  “But the news channels are calling her Ashby,” I say, confused.

  Trystan’s expression softens as he turns, cupping my face. “I’m so sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to be a smartass. I didn’t realize you didn’t know.” His jaw tightens as he looks away, trying to tamp down his anger at this whole situation. “I’m always fucking shit up somewhere, aren’t I?”

  “Stop it,” I say, grabbing his wrist. “It’s not that big of a deal. I just assumed she kept her married name. It is a common occurrence.”

  “Why are you always forgiving me for my bullshit?” His eyes are so earnest, it causes my chest to constrict. “Whatever the reason, I’m thankful. From now on, just ask if there’s something I’ve failed to tell you. I’d never hide anything from you. I love you.”

  Katherine clears her throat, causing us to jump apart and face her, me with a raised brow and Trystan with an automatic sneer. I almost want to laugh at his expression. “As I was saying,” she says, returning my brow lift with one perfectly arched one of her own. “If she’s filed suit against us, then my guess is that you’re next. I thought you should know.” Her eyes are apologetic, soft and caring. It’s obvious she’s not concerned with the hospital, but she’s truly worried how much more we can take.

  I sometimes wonder the same thing.

  Lifting my coffee, I take a sip just to have something to do, something to avoid the dread that is building inside me. “Thank you for letting us know.” I manage to get the words out with as much sincerity as possible.

  Katherine leans over and places her hand on mine. “I’m here if you ever need anything. Even if it’s just to talk.”

  I nod minutely, not sure how to respond, but Trystan has no issues whatsoever. “Thank you, Katherine, but if Easton needs to talk she has me.”

  “My offer was for you both, Trystan,” she says, cutting her eyes toward him. “While her suit against the hospital is nothing we can’t handle, it still pains me to see what she’s attempting to put your family through. You may not believe me, but I feel for you, and not just because of her, but because of everything you’ve faced in such a short amount of time. For the first time since that day in my office, your family is looking at an end to this roller coaster ride, and I’ll do anything I can to make that path smoother for you.”

  Trystan doesn’t speak for a minute,
processing her passionate words, but when he does, it’s with a small nod of his head. “When it comes to Kennedy …” He snarls her name and pauses to collect himself. “We’ll gladly take all the help we can get.”

  “Agreed,” I say with a nod. “We need to work together, not separately.”

  Trystan’s shoulders slump just slightly. “I’m sorry,” he says, meeting first my eyes and then Katherine’s as he motions between them. “Our relationship isn’t the best one, and I just get so angry when her name comes up that I react irrationally.”

  Katherine moves her hand from my arm to Trystan’s. “I understand. It’s not like we have the best relationship anyway,” she says, sitting back with a smirk.

  The corner of his lip quirks upward. “No, we don’t.”

  “But I’d like to think we’ve made progress along the way,” she adds, her smirk turning into a genuine smile.

  “Definitely,” he agrees, and inside I’m smiling.

  I like Katherine. She was great to me from the beginning and has been nothing but straightforward. Yes, she runs this hospital, but it’s not as if she’s personally responsible for the mistake that swapped our boys. And besides, everything that is good in my life now is because of that mistake.

  “Good.” She stands, the flash from her diamond ring catching my eye. I’d almost forgotten. She’s a married woman now. “I’ll keep you informed of any new developments.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Scott. Or is there a new last name?” I ask, my eyes flashing to her hand.

  She brings it up and holds it out for my perusal. For the first time since I’ve known her, she’s acting like the average, giddy new bride, instead of the esteemed chief of staff of Metro University Healthcare. “No, I mean, yes. Yes, I did take my husband’s last name, but for work purposes, I have chosen to maintain my maiden name.”

  “It’s beautiful,” I say, examining the large oval diamond. “Congratulations.”

  “I think I should say the same to you. Both of you.” She sighs, her excitement dwindling into something more sentimental. “It’s truly not my place, but you two …” She shakes her head. “You have given the boys the absolute best future imaginable for their circumstances.”

  “We did,” Trystan says, his eyes finding mine. “But we also found each other, and I’d never wish it to be any other way.”

  Katherine waves her hands toward her face. “Stop. You’re going to make me cry, and then all the doctors will think I’ve gone soft.”

  Trystan chuckles. “I’m sure you can handle them.”

  “No doubt,” she says with her usual authoritative flair before strutting across the room and through the cafeteria doors.

  Trystan stands and grabs our cold, still-full cups of coffee. “Ready to get back to our boys?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Day 28

  Good morning, I’m Vanessa Rogers. A few months ago, we aired a press conference with Doctor Katherine Scott, the Chief of Staff at Metro University Healthcare, where she informed us the hospital had become aware of a switched at birth situation. At the time, we had no information on the families involved, but today we have the mother of one of those children in our studio.

  We’ve learned that one little boy was the product of a sperm donor, while the other was born to a married couple. Prior to learning of the switch, the couple had divorced, and Mrs. Ashby had signed away her rights to her son. She just found out that he was never her son at all.

  The two custodial parents involved with the switched children, Easton Wilder, now Ashby, and Trystan Ashby have since married and obtained legal custody of their biological children as well as the child they each raised.

  The camera shot widens to show the two women seated for an interview.

  Vanessa Rogers: Ms. Ashby, were you contacted by your ex-husband about the switch? The hospital?

  Mrs. Ashby: “No, no one contacted me after the news was discovered. I had to find out that my real son was dying through a Facebook post.”

  Vanessa Rogers: It’s our understanding that he’s recovering, not dying.

  Mrs. Ashby: “Well, you must understand, to a mother who had no idea her biological son was even sick, the news I discovered made me feel like he was dying. He could’ve died, and I might have never known. They wouldn’t even allow me to see him. Can you imagine how horrible that is?”

  Vanessa Rogers: But you gave up your rights to your son in your divorce. Isn’t that correct, Mrs. Ashby?

  Mrs. Ashby: “I was going through a very hard time after my son was born. I’ve since learned it was Post-Partum Depression. It has taken me years to overcome it, and now that I have, I want … no, I need to be a mother to my son―my real son.”

  Vanessa Rogers: Do you think this is what’s best for your son? To come back into his life, one where he has a mother and father, and make your presence suddenly known after being absent for the past three years?

  Mrs. Ashby: “I have to. I need to get to know the child that I carried.”

  Vanessa Rogers: And you’ve filed a suit against the hospital. Is that correct?

  Mrs. Ashby: “I have, but look at what they did. Maybe if I had the son I gave birth to I wouldn’t have fallen into depression in the first place. I’ll never know for sure, but they need to be held accountable.”

  Vanessa Rogers: Is there anything you’d like to say to Mr. and the new Mrs. Ashby if they’re watching?

  Mrs. Ashby: “Yes, I’d like for Mrs. Ashby to put herself in my position. How would she feel if she were being kept from her child? A child that could’ve died and she’d have never known. I can only pray that, as a mother, she’d never wish that on another and will guide her new husband to do the right thing.

  Mrs. Ashby breaks into sobs as the camera pans back to Vanessa Rogers.

  Vanessa Rogers: We’ll be sure to follow up as this case develops.

  I angrily punch the power button, effectively dismissing her pleas. In the early morning silence, tears start streaming down my cheeks. I pull up my knees and hug them tight, burying my face between them. Sobs rack my frame as the reality of her plan moves through me.

  Strong arms encase me in their warmth and a soft, soothing voice whispers in my ear, telling me, promising me, that everything will be okay.

  But will it?

  Day 30

  It’s Sunday, and for the first time, I’ve left my baby in someone else’s capable hands other than Trystan or myself for the night. It was hard to agree, but I only need to look at him to see he’s doing well, that he’s going to be okay. His hair has started actively growing again, he hasn’t been nauseated in over a week, his color is healthy and his smiles are bright.

  Coming home is our next goal. The ultimate one, but I won’t rush it because his health is the most important thing in the world to me. To us all.

  My phone chimes from the coffee table and I pick it up, expecting it to be Trystan beckoning me upstairs, but I’m surprised when it’s my mother.

  That was simply adorable :)

  I smile as I type out a reply. *sighs* Don’t I know it!

  Her response comes quickly. Cam’s already asleep. Love you, and I’ll see you in the morning. XOXO

  Night, Love you.

  I sigh as I stand, feeling completely content for the first time in over a month. After turning off the lights, I climb the stairs, errantly wondering why Trystan didn’t come down to get me. Assuming he’s still with Blake, I turn right down the hall, but as I approach the boys’ bedroom, I realize the door is partially open with only the nightlight glowing.

  Confused, I retrace my steps as I make my way to our bedroom. Before I even reach the door, the warm glow and cinnamon scent alert me to his schemes. I perch against the jamb and watch as my shirtless husband lights what appears to be every candle we own.

  “Goddammit,” he mutters, bringing his fingers to his mouth after holding the lighter flame pointed downward for a little too long.

  I can’t stop the giggle that bubble
s from me, and it causes him to bring his eyes to mine. The sight of him is enough to make every cell within me constrict to the size of tiny pinpoints. Each one tingles along my skin, sending a scorching wave of heat traveling along my limbs and collecting in the pit of my stomach.

  His eyes are simmering with intensity, the flickering flames reflecting wickedly in their depths. His skin is gleaming in the dancing light. His movements are slow and intentional as he slowly pulls his finger from between his lips and stalks in my direction.

  When he’s a foot away, he stops and runs his tongue across his bottom lip. My eyes focus on the movement as visions of exactly what that tongue is capable of play through my mind.

  He steps closer, his heavy breaths blowing against my hair. “Easy,” he groans, and my heart rate spikes at the use of my nickname. “I need this, baby. So fucking bad.” He grips my hips, tightly enough to bruise, but I don’t care. I can’t care. I need him desperately.

  I lift my hand, tracing the tense plane of his abs. “You never have to ask,” I whisper, bringing my eyes to his. “I want you. Always.”

  His lips are punishing when they meet mine, all the pent-up emotion from the last month tumbling between us like a wave as it batters the shore. But it’s what I need. It’s what we need. This has been a long, hard road that’s nowhere near over, but the brightness forms and explodes around us as the kiss winds down with small, sensual passes and warm, panted breaths.

  “I’m going to take it away. All of it. Just let go and feel,” he says as his sturdy hands move to lift me and carry me to the bed.

  After positioning me before him, he stretches to the nightstand drawer, collecting a condom and holding the package between his teeth as he reaches for the elastic on my leggings. His singular focus as he slips the offending material from my body causes me to wither under the heat of his stare.

  By the time his eyes shift back to mine, my breaths are coming in short pants. He tears the small package as he removes it from his teeth and smirks. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ve got you.”

  I watch, half in anticipation and half in desperation, as he slips his cock from his pajama bottoms and rolls the slick, latex material down his shaft with practiced perfection. His eyes fall closed as he pumps once before reopening to burn into me as he positions himself above me.