by Rye Hart
“Just a bit of a headache. Rebecca had a rough night last night.”
“Oh, no. Is everything okay? What happened?”
“Nothing I can’t handle.”
“Do you want to come by the bakery? I can whip her up something special,” I said.
“Nope. It’s going to be a day in for us. She’s not feeling up to going to school, so I canceled my training appointment.”
“You know she can always come here.”
“We’re staying home, Heather.”
I furrowed my brow. If I hadn’t known any better, it would’ve sounded like he was chastising me. There was tension, yes. I knew something wasn’t right, but there seemed to be the slightest trace of annoyance as well.
“Well, I’ll let you go then,” I said.
“Heather, I’m sorry. My head just—”
“Feel better, okay? Tell Rebecca I said hi.” I hung up the phone and smoothed my hand over my forehead.
I was growing attached to Andrew and Rebecca. I could feel it. My heart jumped whenever he called, and I smiled whenever I thought about them. My hand fell to my stomach, and I sighed, my fingers splaying along my skin. I was getting attached to our child as well, and it worried me. Sure, we were on fire for one another, but neither of us had defined what was going on between us. As far as I knew, we were still treating this as a business exchange. He was paying for my medical bills and checking up on me, and I was working through the pregnancy at my bakery. But would the exchange of money now just cheapen what I felt we had?
I didn’t know. We hadn’t talked about it.
There were moments where I thought he cared, moments when he was pushing into my body where I saw his eyes flicker with an emotion that took my breath away. But it was sex. People felt all sorts of things during sex. And when I’d left the other night, he didn’t fight me about it or argue for me to stay.
“Fuck,” I said breathlessly.
Too attached. I was getting too attached to play this game. Things had to be defined. Talked out. That was the one good thing about going through the agency with something like this. We were required to talk things out and sign an explicit contract, so both parties always knew where the other stood and what was expected of the other person. Now, I didn’t know anything. How Andrew felt. What his responsibilities were. What my expectations were.
We needed to talk about what those were, about my role in all of this, and what would happen once this baby was born. I was no longer sure that I could give this baby up to him and walk away.
I needed to know about his plans for the future. I needed to know so I could properly prepare myself. And guard myself if necessary.
CHAPTER 17
CAMERON
My cell phone ringing at five in the damn morning woke me from the only decent sleep I’d been able to fall into for weeks. I groaned and slammed my hand down on it, ready to throw it out the window and turn back over. But when I cracked my eyes open to see who was calling, thinking it was possible that Heather needed me, I saw Hudson’s name.
And I knew that wasn’t good.
“Hudson?” I asked.
“Cameron. Thank fuck. Listen, you need to be careful.”
I bolted upright in bed as every neuron in my brain fired on high alert.
“Why?” I asked. “What’s going on?”
“I’m not sure yet. I don’t have all the pieces in place. What I do know is you need to be extra vigilant in laying low.”
“Talk to me, Hudson. Don’t leave me in the dark here.”
“I don’t have a lot of time to talk. I have to go. Just trust me for now, okay? Keep to your house if you can. Don’t let any visitors come by. Keep Audrey away from school until I know the coast is clear.”
“Hudson, don’t hang up the—”
But the call went dead in my ear before I could tell him to stay on the line with me.
I stood up from my bed as worry swept through my blood. He’d used my daughter and my real names. Something had happened, and it was possible we’d overstepped our boundaries on our little escapade. Shit. This wasn’t good. Then, a terrifying thought crossed my mind.
They’ve found us.
My gut didn’t deny it, and my head kept chanting it. They’ve found us. They’ve found us. Like a broken record playing in the background of a horror movie. My mind started to swirl. The only thing I could process was keeping my family safe.
Fuck. Was Heather safe?
“Hello?”
I was relieved to hear the sound of her tired voice.
“Heather, it’s me,” I said.
“Why are you calling so early? Is everything okay?”
“I just had this gut feeling to check in on you. I’m worried about you and how you’re feeling.”
“That’s so sweet of you, Andrew.”
“Listen, could we get together and talk before you open up today?”
“Andrew, I’m really not feeling well, and I’ve already closed the bakery down once due to it.”
“I know, I get that. But this is important. Very important. It’s about—”
Did I tell her? Just blurt it out over the phone? I had to keep Heather safe. I had to keep our child safe. I had to keep the family I’d created safe until I could figure out what the fuck was going on, which meant I had to come clean with her. I had to tell her who I was, what was going on, and why my life had spiraled the way it had.
I was risking everything by doing it. I risked the child I’d created with her, and I risked her presence in my life. But I couldn’t keep this from her any longer. I couldn’t continue on like nothing was happening. I’d been irresponsible enough with my motives, convincing myself that Audrey and I were safe and that I could somehow live a normal fucking life despite my past.
She could be angry at me if she wanted, but I would protect her and our child. Once I knew they were safe, she could fight all she wanted.
It wasn’t a conversation to have over the phone, though. Heather would understand that. I knew she would. I raked my hand over my face as my eyes adjusted to the dark, and I was painfully aware of everything. Every sound. Every breath of wind that wafted against the windows of the cabin. Every creak of the wood in the walls of my home. Every twig that broke as animals crossed my driveway.
“Andrew?”
“It’s about our future, Heather. I want to sit down and have an honest conversation about it.”
“You do?” she asked.
“Yes. I do. Please come over before you open up. I need to see you. I need to have this conversation face to face.”
“Okay, okay. Yes. I’ll-I’ll get up and get ready, but I don’t know if taxis are running this early.”
I really needed to get that woman a car.
“I’ll come into town and get you. We can come back to my place, have some breakfast, and talk.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want you to wake Rebecca up.”
“I promise she’ll be ecstatic to see you, no matter what time of the day it is,” I said. “We’ll talk, and then we can spend the day together if you want.”
“I have to work today, Andrew, but I can postpone the opening of the bakery until ten if it gives us more time. How does that sound?”
She wouldn't be able to go open her bakery, but she didn’t know that yet. I bit down on the inside of my cheek to keep from blurting everything out over the phone. It all danced on the tip of my tongue, ready to slip out at a moment’s notice.
“Sounds great,” I said. “I’ll get Rebecca up, and we’ll come and get you.”
“I’ll hop in the shower,” Heather said.
The optimism in her voice punched me in my gut. We weren’t going to be having the same conversation, that much I knew. Whatever she thought was about to be discussed, she had no idea what was lying in her path. It made me sick to my stomach. The bomb I was about to drop on her life would have devastating consequences no matter how well she took it.
“Daddy?”
I whipped around and saw Audrey standing in my doorway. She rubbed her eyes and walked toward me, and I scooped her into my embrace. I held her close and buried my face into her hair, reveling in her pulse as it beat against my cheek.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Nothing’s wrong, princess,” I said. “But we need to get ready.”
“Why?” she asked.
“Because we’re going to go pick up Miss Heather, so she can have breakfast with us.”
“Really?”
My daughter’s eyes lit up, and it made the brick of guilt in my gut settle deeper. The risk of losing Heather with this was great, and the idea that my daughter had become attached to someone who might not be around much longer made my heart ache. I smoothed her tangled hair out of her face as her eyes came alive. Then, she wiggled down from my arms and ran off to her room.
“Get dressed, Daddy!”
I looked out the window as the sun began to rise above the trees. Birds began chirping, and the earth around us seemed to wake up from its slumber. I heard my daughter tossing clothes around her room in an attempt to get ready, but all I needed to do was throw on a shirt. I pulled one out of my drawer and pulled it over my head, trying to figure out the best way to approach this conversation with Heather.
But there was no best way. I simply had to tell her and deal with the consequences as they came. After all, it was my mess to clean up.
CHAPTER 18
HEATHER
“What’s for breakfast?” Rebecca asked.
“Pancakes and bacon,” Andrew said.
“Can we have eggs too?”
“Do you want eggs?”
I giggled as Rebecca nodded her head furiously. When Andrew came to pick me up, I assumed he would be happy. In high spirits. But instead, the car ride had been silent and filled with tension, minus Rebecca rambling on about breakfast. He hardly met my eyes, and he didn’t make a move to take my hand or anything. While I figured it was because Rebecca was in the car, it still had me worried.
He had said that he wanted to talk about our future. Was he second-guessing having a child with me?
It was the worst-case scenario for something like this. There was no contract to fall back on, no agency to help me process things, no Marsha calling me up after every meeting and asking me how it went. I’d have no money, no bakery, and I’d have to raise a child on my own. And all because Andrew didn’t want to do this any longer.
“Pancakes and eggs for you,” Andrew said as he slid me a plate, “and pancakes with bacon and eggs for my princess.”
“Thanks, Daddy,” she said with a smile.
“Would you like some syrup?”
I looked up into Andrew’s eyes, but my appetite was gone. The smile he had on was plastered onto his face. As fake as the happiness he showed his daughter. I knew something was wrong, and I knew he was putting on a front for Rebecca. My heart thundered in my chest as I shook my head. The idea of drowning my pancakes in syrup didn’t seem appetizing at all, though Rebecca was all for it.
“Are you going to stay and play today?” she asked.
“I have to open up the bakery at ten,” I said, “but you’re more than welcome to come in and see me if your father will let you.”
“We are actually having a day in today,” Andrew said.
“Aww, but I wanna go see her.”
“You know you’re welcome anytime. It doesn’t have to be today,” I said. “What are your plans for the day?”
“Can we watch a movie?” Rebecca asked.
“That’s actually a very good idea. You want to eat your breakfast and watch a movie?” Andrew asked.
Rebecca’s face lit up with excitement as she grabbed her plate. She wiggled down from her seat, almost spilling her eggs all over the floor. She walked gingerly down the hallway as Andrew got up from the table, following her so he could get her set up wherever she was going to be.
I pushed my plate away from me, trying to keep my nausea at bay.
It felt like he was gone for hours. I got up from the kitchen table and grabbed my orange juice and then headed for the couch. The smell of breakfast was making my nausea worse, and the worry pooling in my gut wasn’t making anything better. I sipped on the tangy fruit juice and closed my eyes, listening as Andrew’s footsteps strode back up the wooden hallway.
“Not hungry?” he asked.
“Not right now, no,” I said.
“Got Rebecca settled in with a movie in her room.”
“What's she watching?” I asked as he sat down next to me.
“The Jungle Book. What else would she watch?”
“Every little girl’s got a favorite movie.”
“What’s yours?” he asked.
“Please stop dragging this out,” I said as I turned toward him. My eyes locked with his, and I watched his gaze grow stern. “I know something’s wrong. I know this conversation isn’t going to be a good one. So just spit it out. Are you having second thoughts? Am I going to be raising this child on my own?”
I watched his eyebrows furrow as he turned his torso toward me.
“Is that what you think? That I’m suddenly bailing on you?”
“That’s the only thing I can think. You haven’t touched me or looked at me or even smiled genuinely once since you picked me up. I figured it was because Rebecca was with us—”
“Audrey,” he said.
“What?” I asked.
“Audrey. My daughter’s name is Audrey.”
“It’s—what?”
He sighed as he took my hands, but I quickly pulled them away.
“What do you mean your daughter’s name is Audrey?” I asked.
“I need you to listen, okay?”
“Who are you?”
“Heather.”
“Who are you?”
“My name is Cameron Silver, but I’m living under the identity of Andrew Thompson.”
My jaw fell open. My blood ran cold. I scooted away from him on the couch when he reached out to me. Had I heard him right? Was I dreaming?
“Your name isn’t Andrew?”
“No. It’s not. I’m Cameron Silver, and my daughter’s name is Audrey Silver.”
My entire world tilted as my heart stopped in my chest.
“I don’t understand,” I said, creating more distance between us. Suddenly the man I thought I knew was a complete stranger all over again.
“Two and a half years ago, my brother was killed,” he began. “He owed a lot of money to a very bad person because of his gambling addiction. He couldn't meet his monthly payments to his loan shark, and in a fit of fear, he came to me asking for help.”
“Your brother,” I said.
“Yes. He’s the only family I’ve got—had. He was the only family I had. The two of us, we were estranged from my parents, pushed away by an alcoholic father and a drug-addled mother. I threw my anger and my time into building a company, and he threw his anger and time into gambling to make ends meet. Sometimes, he won big, but he lost big more often. And when he started losing big with the wrong people’s money, he came to me looking for help. Begged me to help him out of debt. So, I liquidated some of my assets and paid off his loan.”
My head spun as he reached out to me again. Was this some twisted way to get rid of me? Couldn’t he just be direct and end whatever our relationship was like a normal person would? None of this made sense, given what I’d seen of Andrew—or Cameron if that was really his name.
“I paid off his debt, but it wasn’t on time.” He seemed to struggle with his words before he continued. “They killed him.”
“Who’s they?” I asked. His hands came down on mine again, but I pulled away. “Who’s they, and—” I shook my head as I tried to wrap my mind around everything.
“The Mafia.”
I let out an exasperated chuckle. “The Mafia. Your brother gambled with the Mafia’s money?”
“And they killed him for it, yes. I watched it happen, Heather. I saw
it from an alleyway. He called me from his cell phone, talking about how they were going to kill him anyway, and he needed help. So I went after him. I went to save the only piece of family I had left, and they killed him. Right there, just—”
My gaze panned up to his, and I saw tears crest his eyes. Oh my god. This wasn’t some line to drive me away. This man was telling me the truth.
“I memorized that man’s face from the shadows, memorized the man who used that gun on my brother, and when I saw him on the street two weeks later, I snapped.”
“Did you kill him?” I asked.
“No,” he said. “But it was close enough. I got in enough licks to get my point across. They took the only ounce of family I had left besides my daughter and they destroyed it even after I’d paid off hundreds of thousands of dollars to them. They still killed him.”
“Are you in some kind of witness protection or something?” I asked.
“Or something,” he said.
“Don’t you dare get cheeky with me,” I said as I stood to my feet.
“I’m not in witness protection. A very good friend of mine works for the FBI, and when I told him what happened, his only suggestion was to lay low. Then, chatter on his end struck up about finding me a couple of months after what I’d done, so he got us new identities.”
“Holy shit.”
“I didn’t want to hide this from you anymore,” he said. “I wanted to come clean with you because—”
I whipped around to face him when he stopped. “Because why?”
“Because I think they’ve found me.”
I looked into the eyes of a man I thought I knew, a man I thought I was getting to know. But if his identity was a lie, everything I knew about him was probably a lie. When I looked at him, I found a stranger looking back at me. Andrew. Cameron. Audrey. Rebecca. It was all so insane. What did he expect me to do? What reaction was he hoping for? What reaction was I supposed to have about something like this?
“Cameron.”
“Yes?”
“That’s your name.”
“It is.”
“You didn’t go out of town to see family, did you?” I asked. I watched his face fall, and I shook my head. “Where did you go?”