Every Tear You Cry (Redeeming Love Book 4)

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Every Tear You Cry (Redeeming Love Book 4) Page 24

by J. E. Parker


  I started to end the call but stopped when Chastity said, “You told me you weren’t moving there to be with her.”

  I froze. “What are you talking about?”

  “I knew you were lying,” she hissed the last word. “And the pictures posted by your whore on Facebook this morning prove I was right.”

  I was lost.

  Completely confused.

  Bella had been at school all day.

  No one had taken pictures of her.

  “Who are you even talking about?”

  Chastity growled before yelling, “Clara fucking O’Bannon!”

  My skin prickled.

  Alarm bells went off.

  Something isn’t right, I thought.

  “How do you know Clara’s last name?”

  “It doesn’t matter!” she snapped. “What matters is that you lied and now you have some other woman playing mommy to Isabella when it should be me!”

  That was all it took for my control to snap.

  “It should’ve never been you!” I screamed right back. “Bella may have come from your womb, Chastity, but she was never meant to be yours!”

  “And what? You think she was meant to be Clara’s?”

  I didn’t even need to think about my answer before the words tumbled from my lips. “She is Clara’s.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “It means that Clara loves Bella, Chastity, something you never did. She takes care of her, she nurtures her. She makes sure she eats regularly, has clean clothes, and takes a bath every night. She reads to her, plays with her, and teaches her about the world. Shared DNA or not, Clara is Bella’s mother. Not you.”

  “You son of a—”

  “Bitch,” I finished for her. “I already know. I’ve heard the same line a thousand times since I made the mistake of marrying your gold-digging ass.”

  “I won’t let you do this, Brantley!” she continued to scream. “I won’t let some other woman raise my kid!”

  I chuckled. “Oh you will,” I replied. “It’s only a matter of price.”

  Silence.

  I knew it… “Caught your attention, did I?”

  More silence.

  “Tell me, you venomous bitch—how much is it going to cost for you to go away permanently? Obviously the alimony payments aren’t satisfying you anymore since you’re calling me out of the blue with this bullshit. So just go ahead and spit it out. We both know it’s the real reason you called.” I exhaled so harshly my nostrils flared. “Name. Your. Fucking. Price.”

  She took less than three seconds to respond. “A hundred thousand. Cash.”

  I fisted my free hand and clenched my back teeth together so hard I was surprised they didn’t crack. “You want a hundred thousand from me?” I asked. “Then you voluntarily surrender all of your parental rights in front of a family court judge. I want every string that ties you to my daughter severed. Do you hear me?”

  “I’m not paying for a lawyer.”

  My stomach twisted in knots. “Don’t worry, you greedy bitch.” My voice was filled with so much venom and hate that I didn’t recognize it. “I’ll pay for it. I’ll pay for it all.” My chest tightened, making it hard for me to breathe. “My lawyer will be in touch. As for me, don’t contact me. If you do, our deal is off, and I’ll drag you through the court system and get your rights stripped that way. The choice is yours, Chastity. Stay quiet and get your money or cause me problems and get nothing.”

  I didn’t give her a chance to respond before hanging up.

  Slamming my phone down on my desk, I clenched my hands, and spun around, ready to pound my fist into the sheetrock until my knuckles bled. I had reached my breaking point.

  “Mother fu—” I yelled.

  “Brantley…”

  Clara’s soft voice made me freeze.

  “… please, don’t.”

  I took a deep breath and fought like hell to tamp down the rage that boiled in my gut and slithered through my veins. Relaxing my hand, I forced myself to remain still as I tried my best to calm down. Clara had come so far letting me in. If I couldn’t pull it together, then I might as well have soaked all the progress we made in gasoline and lit a match.

  “Clara,” I whispered, my voice rougher than sandpaper. “Baby, I’m not—”

  My words died on my tongue when a shaking hand touched my shoulder.

  “Brantley,” she said, her voice small, “turn around.”

  I shook my head, refusing. “I can’t.”

  I’d calmed down some, but I knew my anger was still visible. It was obvious from the way my body shook and the tense set of my jaw. I may have forced my hands to unclench, but I couldn’t force the hardness lining every inch of my goddamn face to disappear.

  I was too angry.

  Too disgusted.

  A second hand touched my back, and my jaw ticked. “I know you won’t hurt me,” she whispered, “but I need you to turn around. I need to see your face. Please, give me that.”

  Taking another deep breath, I turned.

  Watery green eyes met mine.

  My girl looked vulnerable but brave as hell.

  Lifting her hands, she hovered them over my chest. “Can I touch you?” she asked, her voice shaky. “I need to touch you.”

  Seeing her full of doubt and fear killed me inside.

  I nodded. “You can touch me, bella dama,” I replied. “Always.”

  Tears slid down her cheeks as she raised her trembling hands and rested them on my chest. My skin burned at the contact, but the soothing warmth of her palms calmed me. “I won’t hurt you”—I placed my hands on top of hers—“not now. Not ever.”

  Eyes locked on mine, she bit her lower lip. “I know you won’t.” A brief silence fell over the room. “That’s not why I’m c-crying.”

  My brows furrowed as confusion set in. “You’re not afraid of me?”

  She shook her head. “No. I know you would never hurt me. Brantley, you don’t…”

  When her voice trailed off, I lifted a hand and cupped her jaw. “I don’t what? Talk to me, Clara.”

  It was her turn to take a deep breath.

  In through her nose, out through her mouth.

  “Only monsters hurt other people”—she curled her fingers, digging her nails into my pecs—“and you don’t have one of those in you. You’re not like him. I know that.”

  Hearing her say those words made my anger recede.

  She finally understands…

  I took a chance and wrapped a single arm around her lower back.

  When she didn’t flinch nor panic, I pulled her closer.

  Baby steps…

  “I left Bella’s car rider tag in my desk, so I came back to get it, and when I walked in the door I heard you,” she continued. “I’m not the brightest crayon in the box, but I understood, at least partially what’s going on.” Her hands slid from my chest to my shoulders where her fingers massaged the tense muscles that laid beneath my flesh. “I understand your anger, because I feel it too, but that’s not why I’m upset. As much as you hate your ex-wife, I know you’re more than capable of handling her.”

  Her confidence in me made me stand taller.

  “If you’re not afraid of me, and if you don’t think I’m a monster, then why are you crying?” I leaned down, pressing my forehead to hers. “I fucking hate seeing you upset. Every tear you cry kills me, Clara.”

  How could anyone ever make someone as beautiful as her cry?

  “Because I heard what you said,” she whispered, repeating what she said seconds before.

  “Which part?”

  “The part where you said I was Bella’s mama.”

  “It’s the truth.” And it was. “Baby, you don’t understand. When I saw you…” My voice trailed off as I choked up. “When I saw you look down at her, and her up at you for the first time all those months ago, something clicked into place, and I knew… I fucking knew.”

  “You knew what?” She asked, ho
lding onto my shoulders for dear life.

  Removing my arm from her back, I cupped her jaw and tilted her head back. “I knew my little girl had just found her forever.”

  “Brantley—”

  I dipped my face; less than an inch separated our lips. “Chastity was nothing more than a vessel, Clara. A conniving, manipulative, money hungry vessel. She gave birth to my princesa, but that’s all she did. Even as young as she is, Bella knows that.” My thumbs caressed her jaw. “She knew she hadn’t been given a mother like most kids”—I took a deep breath—“so she chose one for herself. And, bella dama, she chose you.”

  Clara’s lower lip trembled. “What about you?”

  “What about me?”

  “Did you choose me too?”

  I didn’t hesitate. “I asked you to share my home less than twenty minutes ago. I think I’ve made how I feel clear.” She smiled, and my heart warmed. “I know I messed up by not coming after you sooner, but you have to understand, Clara—the stuff that Chastity pulled left me jaded.”

  Jaded or not, I should’ve never been stupid enough to let my past keep me from pursuing what was always meant to be mine.

  “I screwed up by fighting my feelings, but the way I feel about you, the way Bella feels about you… It terrifies me.”

  Emotions on the table, I felt vulnerable.

  Raw.

  What if she walks away?

  “But I can’t keep you at arm’s length any longer. I want you, I need you. I know I’m asking a lot of you today, but, Firecracker, I am begging you—give me your heart.”

  Clara wrapped her hands around my shirt-covered triceps and held on tight as a single sob jerked her entire body. “Brantley,” she cried, her tears falling harder. “It’s already yours.”

  Three little words… That’s all it took to change my life.

  Forever.

  Clara

  “When will Brantley be home?” Liam asked, staring out the window by the front door. Twirling a football in his hands, he turned to face the living room where I sat on the sofa folding laundry. “He’s usually here by now.”

  I glanced down at my phone to make sure I hadn’t missed a call or text.

  I hadn’t.

  “He’ll be here soon,” I replied, my chest tight with worry. I was dreading, and I mean dreading, the conversation I needed to have with the boys about moving. I’d already told Brantley that we would move in with him, but if the boys didn’t want to, then I would have to go back on my word. As much as I cared about Brantley, and as much as I wanted to spend every second possible with Bella, I refused to force my little guys into a situation where they weren’t comfortable.

  Been there, done that.

  Not doing it again.

  Liam huffed out a breath before trudging toward me, his football—the one Brantley had given him—tucked under his arm. The only time he ever put it down was when he took a bath and went to bed at night. Any other time, it was either in his hands or tucked under his arm. For goodness sakes, he even ate supper with it sitting on his lap.

  According to Evan, Brantley had been the same as a kid.

  Knowing that little tidbit made me smile from ear-to-ear.

  They are alike in so many ways…

  Declan, who was sitting on the sofa beside a napping Bella, looked at his brother like he was crazy. “Stop stomping around like a troll,” he fussed. “You’ll wake up Bella, and then she’ll be grumpier than a bear.”

  I smiled because it was the truth.

  Lord knows I loved Bella to death, but the girl loved her sleep, and she did not appreciate being awoken from it before she was ready.

  Liam rolled his eyes and plopped down on the recliner opposite me. “I’m bored.”

  Done folding the last towel, I placed it in the laundry basket that sat on the ground by my feet. Deciding to take advantage of the quiet, I looked from one boy to the other. “I need to talk to you boys about something important.”

  Their eyes widened.

  “Whatever it is, I didn’t do it,” Declan said, pointing at his brother. “He did it.”

  “Shut up, Dec—”

  “Liam Nicholas O’Bannon,” I snapped. “We do not take that tone and we do not say shut up. Do you understand me, young man?” He nodded. “Good. Now apologize to your brother.”

  Declan smiled as Liam muttered, “Sorry,” under his breath.

  “Alright,” I started, my heart in my throat. “I have something important to ask you guys but before I do, I need you to understand that it doesn’t matter what your answer is, I won’t be upset.”

  Liam’s brows furrowed. “What is it?”

  I took a breath. “You guys like Brantley, right?”

  They both nodded.

  “And you like spending time here, in this house, with Bella and him too, correct?”

  “Yeah,” Declan whispered. “I wish we lived here. I don’t like the apartment no more.”

  “Me either,” Liam added, his gaze dropping to the floor.

  With those words, the heaviness and dread weighing my chest down dissipated. “Would you guys want to live here?” I asked, causing both boys heads to pop up.

  Liam looked at me with wide eyes. “Seriously?”

  “Seriously,” I replied, smiling. “Brantley found out we were looking for somewhere new to live, and he offered for us to move in with him and Bella instead of into another apartment.”

  Declan jumped up off the couch. “We get to live here?” He asked, his disbelief clear.

  I nodded. “If you want to.”

  “I want to!” He hollered, before glancing down at a still-sleeping Bella. “Oops.”

  I chuckled and swung my gaze to Liam. “Talk to me, Liam,” I whispered. “You come first, baby. If you don’t want to stay here, we won’t. I’ll find us an apartment. A nice one. Then we can—”

  “Are you guys getting married?” Liam interrupted.

  His question knocked me off kilter. “Uh, no.”

  “Why?” He asked, confused. “Don’t you love him?”

  Before I could even try to reply, Declan spoke up. “I love him,” he said, his voice quieter than mine. “Cause he plays with me and stuff.” He looked up from where he’d been staring at his lap; his eyes met mine. “Hey, Mama…”

  “Yeah, sweet boy?”

  “Can Brantley be my daddy?”

  I could’ve sworn the world around me stopped turning. “Do you want him to be?”

  He nodded. “Yeah,” he said, his gaze once again dropping back to his lap.

  I didn’t know what to say, what to do.

  The conversation was not one I was expecting to have right now, if ever.

  “How long do we get to live here?” Liam asked, changing the subject.

  “For as long as we want,” I replied, hoping like hell I wasn’t telling a fib.

  Liam stood. “Brantley won’t make us leave? Not even if we do something wrong?”

  “No.” It was an answer I was confident of. “He won’t.”

  “Then I want to live here too.”

  The words had just left Liam’s mouth when the sound of the garage door being opened echoed through the house, announcing Brantley’s arrival, and waking Bella. Sitting up, she tossed the afghan I’d placed on her legs to the floor and rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands.

  “Is Daddy home?” she asked, stretching her arms over her head.

  “He is, princess,” I replied, standing. “Why don’t you—”

  The door in the kitchen that connected the house to the garage—which was behind me—suddenly opened, interrupting me. Bella’s eyes lit up when Brantley walked through the door. “Daddy!” she hollered. “Are those for Clara?”

  “They are,” he replied.

  “You got all of those for Mama?” Declan asked, wide-eyed.

  More than curious, I stood from the sofa and turned to face the kitchen.

  When my eyes landed on Brantley, and what he held in his right hand, my
belly whooshed.

  Red roses. At least two dozen. Maybe three.

  “Brantley…”

  “Sorry I’m late, bella dama,” he said, placing a white bag down on the island countertop. “I had a few stops to make. I would’ve called, but I didn’t want to ruin the surprise.” He smiled so bright it was blinding. “I hope you like red.”

  Taking Bella’s hand in mine, I moved around the sofa and toward the kitchen, following behind the boys. “Daddy, I like flowers too,” Bella said, standing on her tip toes to get a better look at the beautiful bouquet Brantley still held. “Can I have some?”

  His gaze dipped to his little girl. “Of course you can,” he replied, chuckling.

  Gently lying the large bundle of roses on the countertop, he unwrapped the heart-decorated cellophane covering the stems. That’s when I saw that it wasn’t one giant bouquet, but two combined. One bigger, one smaller. Bella’s eyes lit up again as Brantley offered her the roses. “These are for you, princesa.”

  I almost melted.

  Sporting a heart-stopping smile, Bella took the flowers from Brantley’s hand and lifted them to her nose. “Mmm,” she said, smelling them. “These smell good, and are so, so pretty. Can I show Grandmama later, Daddy? She lovesss flowers.”

  Brantley nodded. “Course you can, beautiful girl.” Cupping her face in his hands, he pressed a sweet kiss to her forehead. “I love you, Isabella. Don’t you ever forget that.”

  “I won’t,” she whispered, before turning to face me. “Clara,” she squealed. “Look at what Daddy got me. Aren’t they pretty?”

  “They’re beautiful,” I replied, running my fingers through her hair. My voice was small, quiet. Overwhelmed by the man standing less than five feet away from me, I was on the verge of choking up. “Just like you.”

 

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