Because It's You (Carolina Rebels Book 2)

by Lindsay Paige

  “When it came time to have the girls, I felt completely unprepared and I had no desire to take care of myself, much less those two. Roger got his way in the end. They were with me when my water broke and before we left for the hospital, I asked them if they would adopt them and raise them as their own. They had to answer me before I left. They couldn’t believe it.

  “No one knew that Roger was fighting me tooth and nail over me keeping the girls and that he wanted them to have the girls anyway. So, I told them that I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t raise them without Roger. I said that I didn’t want them. That right now was the worst time, but they were here and they deserved better than what they would get if they were to have me as a mom. I told them that they deserved the chance to be parents. They could name them. They could get their lawyer on it right away and I’d do whatever it took for those girls to be theirs. I promised to have no say. They said yes just to get me to the hospital.

  “I know that because when I refused to hold or look at Stephanie, who came first, that’s when it hit them that I wasn’t kidding. It was the best and worst decision I ever made. My relationship with my parents was already a little rocky because they didn’t want me marrying so young and didn’t really like Roger, but when I gave away their grandchildren, that was the last straw for them. They didn’t want what would be a fake relationship to them, so they disowned me, basically. But it all worked out.

  “Scott and Sylvia are fantastic parents and those girls haven’t ever wanted for anything. I’m glad I could give them that gift. I’m happy I did it because it feels like that’s the way things should’ve happened, but at the same time, I wonder what things would’ve been like if Roger did want them. Would I have let Scott and Sylvia adopt them? Would I have been able to take care of them? Would he have died at all?

  “Either way, it’s good that they took the girls. When I was released from the hospital, I went home and stayed there. I had already quit my job and school before the twins were born because I couldn’t handle it. There was nothing left for me. I couldn’t get over him dying and leaving me all alone. I was elbows deep in a depression I couldn’t get out of, and there’s no exaggeration here. For two years, I didn’t leave my house unless I particularly felt like it.

  “Scott and Sylvia paid my bills, raised my kids, who were now their kids, brought me groceries, cooked me dinner, cleaned my house, washed my laundry, the whole nine yards. That’s what I meant when I said that he took care of his family. He most certainly didn’t have to do that, and half the time, I wish he didn’t. Knowing they both helped me so much overwhelmed me and made me feel guilty.

  “I didn’t have much to do with the girls those two years. Sylvia didn’t bring them over to the house when she came, and I didn’t want to see them anyway. One day, she showed up with a pair of two-year-olds. There’s just this particular look on her face she gets when she’s fed up. I expected her to go off on me, but she didn’t. She just handed me the girls, turned around, and left. Later, she came back and told me that she knew it was hard, but she had two girls and she wanted them to know their Aunt Lizzy.

  “That was the first day of me putting my life back together. It wasn’t easy and I cried more times than I can count.” I take a deep breath. “There you go. That’s my story.”

  ELIZABETH LOOKS OVER her shoulder at me when I don’t say anything. She wants a reaction from me.

  “I think you’re amazing.” She frowns, which isn’t totally unexpected. “People give up their kids for different reasons, and regardless of what I or anyone else may think, you said something important and something that matters more than anything else. Those girls are with people who love them more than anything, they’ve never wanted for anything, and they’ve always been taken care of, and you made sure that’s what they got when you weren’t sure if you could do that for them. So, yeah, I think you’re amazing.”

  She rolls her eyes as she faces Roger’s stone. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.” And then, quietly, she adds, “I think he would be disappointed in me.”

  “Why?” I ask with confusion. Ultimately, she did what Roger wanted.

  “Because with him gone, I could’ve had what I wanted: kids to raise and he wouldn’t be there to fight with me about it. I just feel like he would be disappointed that the fight was over, I could’ve had what I wanted, but I gave it up. I gave them up. I don’t regret it either. I mean, there are times when I struggle with certain aspects, but I don’t regret it. The girls are happy, and to see Scott and Sylvia be parents makes it all worth it.”

  “Thank you for telling me.”

  She squeezes my hands. “Thanks for being someone I wanted to tell.”

  Sitting in a cemetery isn’t exactly what I’d like to do on a cold January day, especially by her ex-husband’s grave, but I’m not leaving without her and not until she’s ready.

  “Well,” she starts so softly that if it wasn’t for my chin resting on her shoulder, I wouldn’t be able to hear her talking for the light breeze that’s picked up. “Roger, this is Marc. He plays hockey with your brother, and he’s my boyfriend. Scott likes him, so you would too, I guess.”

  “You guess?” I interrupt incredulously.

  She giggles and elbows me in the gut. “Stop. I’m trying to have a serious conversation here.” Her smile is breathtaking and her eyes are gleaming. I kiss her real quick because I can’t help myself. Elizabeth has to clear her throat before she begins again. “I, ah, just wanted to say I was sorry for how we ended, but the girls turn six in three weeks, and I’m happy again. The truly, bursting at the seams, smiling every day, and feeling as if I’m not missing anything in life kind of happy.” I squeeze her hands, remembering that I told her that was the kind of happy everyone wanted for her. “We can both rest easy now.”

  The wind suddenly dies down. Elizabeth takes a deep breath and goes to stand, so I follow after her.

  “My house or yours?” I ask as we approach our vehicles.

  “What happened to that date you asked me out on?”

  “I never got a response.”

  “The answer is always yes with you.”

  I grin. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better about being ignored. Go home and I’ll pick you up in an hour. I have to run some errands.”

  “I’ll just meet you at your house. I’ll spend the night.”

  “I’ll have to leave early to fly out for the game.”

  She shrugs. “I don’t mind if you don’t.”

  “Okay. I’ll see you there, then.” With one arm slung low around her waist, I pull her tight against me. I kiss her forehead, moving my lips to mouth the words that I was convinced she wasn’t ready to hear yet, but I think she might be now. This isn’t where I want to say them aloud, so my usual routine it is. Tonight, she will hear them.

  We leave the cemetery, driving off in the same direction before parting ways. There are just a few things I wanted to pick up for the house while I’m thinking about it and I have an hour to kill anyway.

  My life is perfect now. My father has backed off. There’s someone to love. And that someone is such a huge part of things being perfect. I knew she was great from that first run-in with her. Hell, I’d drop down to one knee today if I had a ring and if she’d say yes, but that may be rushing things for her, so I don’t know what her answer would be.

  Just as I’m pulling into the empty driveway an hour later, my phone rings. Why would my father’s therapist be calling on a weekend?

  “Hello?”

  “Marc, hey. How are you? It’s—”

  “I know who you are. How can I help you?”

  “Well, I was calling to see how things were going as I haven’t been able to get in touch with your father,” Glenda says.

  “I don’t follow.”

  “He’s not in North Carolina with you?”

  My blood starts to freeze. “I sent him home the same day he came.”

  “He never returned, and when I sp
oke to him a few days ago, he said he was still there.”

  “How did he seem?”

  “Agitated and a bit unlike himself, but he said you two weren’t getting along and that he would make sure things would work out soon.”

  Fuck. I get out of the truck and head to my door. He never left! That motherfucker never left. What has he been doing all this time? I stop short on the porch steps. There, abandoned on its side, is Elizabeth’s overnight bag.

  “Fuck. He has her.”

  “What?”

  “He took my girlfriend! Where was he staying? Do you know?”

  “I don’t think your father is capa—”

  “I gave him new limitations and an ultimatum for what would happen if he broke the new rules. He’s fucking pissed, and if I don’t find him, he’s going to take it out on my girlfriend. You know what he did to me as a kid! He is sure as fuck capable of beating the shit out of a woman until he nearly kills her.”

  “You need to call the police,” she says.

  “And tell them what? She hasn’t been missing but for thirty minutes at the most. Where the fuck was he staying, Glenda?”

  “He didn’t say.”

  How fucking convenient. “I swear on your life, if I find out you knew, your head is going to be on a platter.” I hang up and sit on the porch steps. I have to go to the police and hope they’ll help me because it’s not like hotels will tell me if someone has a room there, and there are so many hotels in Raleigh that it could take for fucking ever to call them all.

  God, this is the last thing I need. The last thing Elizabeth needs. Fuck, Elizabeth. Francis could do some serious damage to her and she doesn’t deserve it, especially when all of that anger is directed at me. Before I go to the cops, I decide to call my father to see if he’ll answer the phone.

  “Well, look at who’s calling me. I feel special,” he says in answer.

  “Where the fuck is she?”

  “Now that’s no way to speak to your father, Marc. Elizabeth and I are spending some quality time together, getting to know one another, and such. I might bring her back later. Harmed, of course.”

  I hear a choked sob in the background, but it’s quickly muffled. Son of a bitch!

  “It’s me you want, right? So tell me where you are.”

  “She looks just like your mother.” There’s a touch of awe in his voice, but I’m confused. I take after my father, and I’ve seen pictures of my mother. She was a redhead with more freckles than I can count and green eyes. How in the hell does she look like Elizabeth, who looks more like me with the blonde hair? Their hair styles aren’t even close to being similar. The only vague similarity could be their eyes, as Elizabeth’s are hazel. Other than that, they do not look alike. “She has an attitude your mother lacked, though. Your mother never fought back; I think this one will try her best.” His excited tone makes me sick. “I was about to tell a story to Elizabeth. Maybe you’d like to listen.”

  I hear a scuffle and then it’s like he put me on speakerphone and set the phone down. I can hear Elizabeth whimpering and crying. I get back into my truck, determined to drive around and look for Elizabeth’s vehicle until I can get him to talk to me.

  “Once upon a time there was a handsome stud of a man. He was powerful and he liked doing things to feel that way. He liked to hang out in bars, admire women, but the fun was with the ones who would reject him.” Whatever he does causes another muffled sob to escape from Elizabeth. Shit. I don’t know if I can listen to this.

  “Where are you?”

  It’s like he doesn’t hear me.

  “So he’d follow the ones who rejected him home.”

  My hands tighten on the steering wheel and I learn just what kind of monster my father is as he describes how he raped women. Elizabeth starts crying harder and he slaps her, the crack of his palm on her skin loud and echoes in my head long after. I have to find Elizabeth.

  “But then, there was one girl. There’s always one girl, isn’t there, son? One we can’t seem to resist, and that was your mother for me. It’s kind of funny, really. She was with me before she knew she was with me.”

  He raped my mother, too?

  “She thought I was such a hero for falling in love with her and being willing to raise the son of a rapist. She never did find out I was your father. Lucky for me, she died. It would’ve been odd with how much you look like me and she might’ve connected the dots.”

  What a sick bastard.

  “Any last words, my dear? And remember if you share our location, it’ll be much, much worse and I won’t be able to promise a return at all.”

  I stop breathing and wait to hear Elizabeth’s voice. “Marc?” If it wasn’t for how shaky and how terrified she sounds, I’d melt in my seat from hearing her voice.

  “I’m here.”

  “Do you remember that time we went out to eat with Noah and Meredith?”

  What the fuck does that have to do with anything? “Yeah,” I answer anyway.

  “I really, really liked that place. Maybe we can go there again.”

  Dad snorts. “You’re both boring me. Bye, Marc.”

  He hangs up before I can open my mouth. Shit! I hit my steering wheel and throw my phone across the cab of the truck. I start driving toward that restaurant. I don’t remember there being hotels over there, but that has to be why she mentioned it, right? There’s no other reason.

  Coming up on the west side of the restaurant, the side we drove up on when coming to it, I confirm that I was right. No hotels. I pass the restaurant and about two miles up the road, I see a motel.

  And Elizabeth’s car is in the parking lot.

  I park the truck next to it and run to the door directly in front of her car, but I hear more noises from the one I just passed. It flies open and Elizabeth runs into me, scaring the shit out of her since she wasn’t looking where she was going. My eyes quickly take her in. She’s in one piece. Thank god.

  Then I see my father behind her. His pants are unbuttoned and his zipper is undone. My body acts before I can think. I move Elizabeth to the side and charge him. Never in my life have I wanted to beat him within an inch of his life like I do right now. Age hasn’t taken away his strength, though it has slowed him down. He fights back as if he’s in as good shape as I am. He slams me back into the TV before we topple to the floor with me straddling his waist, punch after punch going to his face with years of abuse and what’s happened to Elizabeth to fuel each swing of my arms.

  But then I’m being hauled up and held back. A sick and twisted satisfaction comes when I see his bloodied face. It’s a cold splash of reality to realize it’s two cops holding on to me. Shit. I whirl around to see Elizabeth with a third officer, her arms wrapped around her body. Her shirt is torn open, something I somehow failed to notice earlier, and a new surge of anger flares. She rushes over and hugs me.

  “We need to get you two outside and figure out what happened here,” an officer says, ushering us outside while another stays behind to talk to Francis. I give Elizabeth my hoodie to wear as he continues, “Mind explaining what happened? What are your names?”

  “My name is Elizabeth Boyd. This is my boyfriend, Marc Polinski, and that’s his father, Francis. I was meeting him at his house, but he wasn’t there yet and his father was. He had a gun, and he told me to get into the car. We came here. He tied me to the chair and gagged me. Marc called him, Francis started talking about how he had raped women, and he...he was touching me. He let me talk to Marc, so I gave him a hint as to our location, but Francis hung up on him shortly after.”

  Elizabeth starts trembling, so I rub my hands up and down her arms, reminding her I’m here. “He threatened me, untied me, and threw me onto the bed, but I started fighting back. When I was able to get to the door, Marc was here.” She looks up at me to finish.

  “I saw her and then I saw him. I reacted.” That’s all there was to it. “He has a history of abuse and instability. He was supposed to be back in Canada, but I knew he
was still here at first because his therapist called and told me that he was still here. He probably planned it once I pissed him off.”

  We talk to the officer, Stamps, a bit more, and then the officer who was talking to Francis comes out to speak to him off to the side as paramedics arrive to check everyone out. I’ll have a few bruises in addition to the broken skin on my knuckles, but other than that, I’m fine. Elizabeth has a few bruises already forming, the one around her neck making me want to beat the hell out of him again.

  “Okay, so he’s refusing to say what happened. All he would say is he wanted us to remind you that you’re his son and that means something.”

  The third officer who had disappeared returns and asks to speak with Officer Stamps. A moment later, we see them arrest my father, who resists. At least they can add that. “There’s video footage of him ushering you into the room with the gun to your back. We can charge him with second degree kidnapping.”

  We talk a bit more and then we’re free to leave. I put Elizabeth in the truck and turn it on with the heat blasted and I call Noah.

  “Hey,” he answers.

  “Are you and Meredith busy?”

  “No. Why? What’s up?”

  “I need you to meet me at a motel, one of you drive Elizabeth’s car to my house, and don’t ask any questions. I’ll explain it later.” Elizabeth is still shaking and she said she didn’t want to drive.

  “Everything okay?”

  “Not really. Can you come?”

  “Yeah. Mere, shoes and purse, yeah? Marco needs our help.” To me, he says, “We’re walking out of the door right now. Where are we going?”

  I tell him how to find the motel and we hang up. I should get in the truck and wait with Elizabeth, but my mind is racing from what happened, so I pace instead. Today was supposed to be a good day. Elizabeth gave me all her secrets, she let me in completely, and we were going to spend the afternoon together. I was going to tell her I love her. Francis had to go and fuck it up. What if this changes us? My father is a rapist. He was going to beat and rape Elizabeth. That monster raised me. It’s no longer an exaggeration that it’s a damn miracle I turned out decent.