Thorns (The LeBlanc Family #1)

by Bella Scott

  “Yeah. But maybe you should talk to him without me there, when it comes time for that. He’s not fond of me, as you can imagine.”

  Rose shrugged. He was right, but she didn’t want to add to whatever he was already struggling with by telling him as much.

  “He’ll get over it,” she said instead. “You two used to be so close. I really want us all to be able to get past this someday. For you guys to remember how to be friends. To forget about everything I screwed up.”

  “It’s not on you. Neither of us handled things the way we—”

  “Luke, please. Stop. Let me take responsibility.” Her fingers absently traced his chest, and she stared past him at the waves lapping at the shore. “I know I’ve made some pretty huge mistakes, and I’m sorry that I hurt you. I’m just working on making everything right again.”

  She felt him inhale deeply and release the breath.

  “Well, things can’t be completely right until we’ve gone swimming,” he said. “We’ve got the ocean. Seems like a waste not to use it.”

  Rose leaned up to kiss his cheek. “That’s a good point. Let’s go.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  The return home came far too soon. Rose would’ve preferred to spend at least another week in St. Croix—a week, a month, an eternity—but she knew she and Luke couldn’t keep missing work forever, even though she was almost certain Beatrice wouldn’t mind as long as she got to hear all the details about what they were doing on the island. After a week and a half of swimming, sunbathing, and making love so many times she lost count, Rose had more than enough delightful memories to carry back with her.

  On her first day back at the office, she happened to pass Beatrice in the hallway, and the other woman’s expression shifted instantly from thoughtful contemplation to unconcealed delight. Her long auburn hair fell in ringlets, and the pencil tucked behind her ear nearly fell from its place when she hurried forward to grab Rose’s arm and steer her into the break room.

  “So glad yer back. How was yer vacation?” The rise in Beatrice’s pitch would’ve made it clear exactly what she was asking even if Rose hadn’t gone into work expecting it. Beatrice’s Scottish accent was much less pronounced than it had been when Rose had started working for her—the longer she spent in America, the more she seemed to be trying to downplay it.

  “We had a great time.” Rose’s cheeks were burning, and she fidgeted on her feet. She’d certainly regained her confidence in the bedroom since she’d gotten back with Luke, but there was a huge difference between what they did staying between them and having to repeat it to her boss.

  “Glad ta hear it.” Beatrice grinned. “Wha’ was it like in St. Croix?”

  “Well, his family has a house there, so we had a lot of space to ourselves, which was pretty wonderful. We got to clear our heads in peace.”

  “An’ no audience to bother ye.” Beatrice laughed and gave Rose a quick hug. “Really, though, I’m glad ye had time ta get away from all this for a while. If there’s anythin’ I can do to help with all the stress, just let me know.”

  “I will. Thank you so much, Bea.”

  Beatrice smiled as she left, and Rose pulled in a long breath.

  That was easy enough.

  She made herself a cup of coffee and carried it to her office. As soon as she entered, she froze.

  Alex stood beside her desk, fidgeting on his feet.

  “Bea didn’t tell me you were waiting,” Rose said lamely. There were a million other things she wanted to say, but none of them seemed like appropriate conversation starters. Are you any less angry than the last time we spoke? Why did you think showing up to say a bunch of angry shit to Luke was a good idea? Did you seriously pull the “you’re not the father” card? How old are we, honestly?

  “In her defense,” said Alex, “she probably didn’t know. I came in the side door. Where you always let me in.”

  He wasn’t looking at her—he’d turned to face her, but he was staring at the filing cabinet in the corner, clearly trying hard to keep his focus there.

  “Ah.” Rose nodded. “Do you want to sit?”

  “Thanks.”

  He took the chair in front of her desk, and he sat on its edge, not quite relaxing into it. Rose made her way around the smooth metal desk and to the matching chair behind it. The desk and chairs had been a gift from Beatrice last Christmas, and aside from a stack of files, a pale blue lamp, and the mug Rose sat down after her first sip of creamer-laden coffee, the desk was empty. She flicked the lamp on, mostly to give herself something to do. Alex still wouldn’t look at her. His brown eyes were ringed by dark circles, and she wondered when the last time was that he’d slept. She then reminded herself that she was no longer in the position to ask those kinds of questions.

  “I called,” he said, staring at her coffee mug. “I tried here, during your normal hours, because I figured putting a little bit of distance between us was the right thing to do. I didn’t think you’d want me clogging up your cell.”

  Rose nudged the top file folder into alignment with the one beneath it.

  “Anyway,” Alex continued, “Beatrice said you were on vacation. I was on my way home when I saw your car, so I thought I’d stop by. I can leave, if you like.”

  “You don’t have to do that.” She looked up at him, and at last, his eyes met hers. She waited for him to speak, and when he didn’t, she tried again. “What did you want to talk about?”

  Alex inhaled. “I feel like there’s a lot left unresolved. The first thing I want to say is that I’m sorry.”

  Rose frowned. “For what?”

  “For starters, telling Luke about your pregnancy. That wasn’t my place, and I shouldn’t have done it. I was so angry and confused and hurt—it doesn’t justify what I did, but just know that if I’d had my head on straight, I never would’ve done something like that.”

  “I’m sorry you found out the way you did,” said Rose. “I should’ve told you before I did anything else. I… I didn’t get the chance to explain everything when I came by the house. I know this doesn’t justify anything, either, but I want you to hear the whole truth.”

  Alex nodded, and though there was pain in his eyes, the anger that had filled them the last time she’d seen him was gone.

  “You know I left Luke after what happened with Calvin and Lorenzo.”

  “Yes. Those idiots.”

  “Right. But it’s a little more complicated than that.”

  He raised a brow.

  “I was already in a terrible emotional state before any of that happened, and I wasn’t handling anything the way I should have. Alex, this… isn’t the first time I’ve been pregnant.”

  The color drained from his face.

  “No one knew,” Rose went on. “No one. It was so early, just a few weeks, and I’d only just found out, and then I lost the baby.” Tears bit at her eyes, and she tried to blink them away. “I was terrified of what would happen if my parents knew, and I was mourning someone I’d never gotten the chance to meet or even tell anyone about, so I was mourning alone. I didn’t handle the stress well. Yeah, I got freaked out by what happened at the bar, and I gave Luke his ring back and told myself I needed space and time. But then I lost the baby, and I couldn’t go back to him knowing I’d kept all of that from him. Like you said, if I’d been thinking straight, I wouldn’t have done things the same way. I wouldn’t have left permanently, and I probably never would’ve left at all. I just wasn’t in the right state of mind to be making those kinds of decisions.”

  “I’m sorry,” Alex said quietly. He reached out to lay his hand on hers, and she understood the gesture as a comforting one from someone who still loved her. “Why—?” He cut himself off, apparently thinking better of asking, but she answered anyway.

  “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t know how to. For the same reason I didn’t tell Luke until two weeks ago, when I left home. I felt like I’d missed my chance to tell the people I loved and bringing it up was
only going to hurt you, too. I guess I thought that I was doing the right thing by shielding you both from that pain.”

  He nodded again. “I understand. That’s… a noble way to think about it.”

  She laughed softly, feeling anything but noble. She took another drink of her coffee. “So when I found out about this baby, all of that came flooding back to me. Everything I’d been trying so hard to put in the past. And there’s always going to be a place in my heart for you, Alex. I just…”

  “You wondered whether you ever should’ve left Luke.” His tone was even, and his words didn’t sound like an accusation. Much to her relief, it sounded like he understood.

  “Yes. I’m so, so sorry that I hurt you. I never wanted that.”

  “I know. And I appreciate it.” He gave her a slight smile, and the knot in her chest loosened somewhat.

  “So where do we go from here?” she asked.

  “Tell me when it’s a good time, and I can help you get your things moved over to Luke’s. No rush—just whenever works for you.”

  Rose pushed back her chair and stood, rounding the desk. She paused beside Alex’s chair, and he watched her for a moment, looking confused, before he stood. The height difference between them was still as huge as it had always been—a foot and three inches, at her last count—and when she hugged him, she felt the strain that had been so palpable between them melting away.

  “Thank you,” she said quietly. “You’re going to be a great dad, you know.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m just going to try to be better at it than Luke is. Shouldn’t be hard.” His tone was teasing, and Rose told herself that perhaps things between Alex and Luke could begin returning to normal sooner than she’d anticipated.

  “No comment,” she said. She stepped back and smiled, and he started for the door.

  “See you around, Princess,” he said.

  “Wait—that reminds me. What do you think of Elsa for the name, if the baby’s a girl?”

  Alex paused and looked toward her again, arching a brow. “I don’t know about that. We’ve… got time to think about it, I’d say.”

  “So that’s a no?”

  “Right.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Halfway through the stack of case files he’d been poring over, Luke found himself facing the criminal record of a man he was supposed to be in charge of prosecuting.

  Calvin.

  As he stared at the man’s dark hair, his cold brown eyes, and the lopsided smirk he wore even in his mugshot, a wave of nausea rolled through Luke. He felt the wood of the chair Calvin had hit him with against his back again, and he leaned forward, bracing himself against his desk.

  Four years had not diminished the rage Luke harbored for this man. When he closed his eyes, he saw Calvin pinning Rose to the wall, and he stared at the bookcase across the room, trying to distract himself. The small wooden globe his mother had bought him on a trip to London sat between Tolkien and Dostoyevsky on the third shelf. A framed five-by-seven photo he’d taken with Rose in St. Croix sat just beneath it, and she smiled at him brightly, her face beside his, the sun lighting up her hair and her blue eyes. Luke willed his pulse to slow, willed his lungs to take in more than just the shallow breaths that had begun with his recognition of Calvin.

  Get it together, he told himself. He’s not here.

  According to the file, Calvin was awaiting bail downtown for another assault. This time, he was being charged with domestic abuse. There were photos of a woman’s bruised face, and Luke had to set them down before he could accidentally crumple them as his hands balled into fists.

  The arrest record confirmed what he already knew. Calvin had only been held for six months after his attack on Rose, and Luke had never been able to escape the idea that he was partially to blame for that. He hadn’t gone to Calvin’s trial or to Lorenzo’s, and his family’s lawyers had made deals he didn’t want to know about to keep the two of them from pressing charges against him for the damage he’d caused while defending his then-fiancée. But from what he’d heard, the jury had taken note of how badly the two of them had been injured and had barely voted to convict them, and the judge seemed to have taken that into account when sentencing them.

  In the most recent photo, Calvin’s nose was crooked, and a ripple of savage pride spread through Luke. Maybe breaking Calvin’s nose had made the jury take pity on him, but Luke would never regret doing it as long as he lived.

  According to the file, Calvin had been arrested twice more in the intervening years. Petty theft and D.U.I. The fact that he apparently hadn’t learned anything from his arrests wasn’t surprising. Luke felt a swell of pity for the woman who’d gotten too close to him.

  There was no way in Hell he would be impartial, if he handled this case. With a sigh, he gathered the photos and documents back into the file and stood, making his way for the door.

  He would have to recuse himself.

  ***

  Rain fell in a light mist as Rose walked toward the deli on the corner. She passed clusters of people waiting for signs to change so they could cross the street, and she wove through umbrellas that took up more than their share of the sidewalk.

  She had an hour for lunch, and she hoped she wouldn’t need all of it, but that depended on the line for food. It could take anywhere from ten seconds to the entire hour and then some. She doubted Beatrice would be irritated if her break ran a bit long, but she wanted to get back into the swing of a normal workday, and she already felt guilty about taking a week and a half off. She didn’t want to push it.

  Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out to find “Mom” emblazoned across the screen. Pulling in a deep breath and shifting to stand under the awning of a nearby comic shop, she answered the call.

  “Hello?” Her voice came out even, mercifully not betraying her nerves.

  “It’s a miracle. You actually answered.”

  Rose closed her eyes and leaned back against the brick storefront. “I’ve been out of the country, Mom. I just got in last night. I was going to call.”

  “Why were you out of the country?”

  “Luke and I wanted to… we needed to get away for a little while.”

  Her mother sighed. “So how much of it is true?”

  Rose resisted the urge to respond sarcastically, if just barely. “If you mean what’s been in the media, it varies by the source. Yes, I’m pregnant. Yes, I’m back with Luke. Yes, he punched a reporter, but the guy had it coming.”

  “Pregnant outside of marriage.”

  She could almost hear her mother shaking her head.

  “I thought you would’ve learned better than that after what your sister did.”

  Heat flooded Rose’s cheeks, and she clenched the hand not holding her phone into a fist. Years of fearing what this woman thought of her and would do to punish her pulsed through her with every heartbeat. Years of resentment and longing for acceptance crashed over her, and she couldn’t hold back any longer.

  “After you made me lose her for a while, you mean?” she snapped. “Morgan made a mistake, Mom. She wasn’t ready. But guess what? She has been an excellent mother, and I can promise you she’ll never treat Noah the way you’ve treated us.”

  Silence.

  “Your father and I have raised you to have values,” her mother said sharply. “Morgan threw all that out the window. You’re an adult, so it’s not like we can punish you, but—”

  Rose laughed derisively. “You would’ve tried the first time.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Guess what, Mom? I would’ve had a kid by now, too, if I hadn’t lost him. I got pregnant in college, and I was so scared of you finding out that I didn’t even tell Luke. I lost the baby, and I lost Luke because I handled everything wrong. I cared too much about what you thought, and guess what? I don’t care anymore.”

  The only sounds on the other end of the phone were a bit of static and her mother’s breathing.

  “You should’ve tol
d us,” she said at last.

  “Why? So you could ditch me like you ditched Morgan?”

  “We were trying to teach your sister a lesson!” Her mother’s voice was exasperated, teetering on the verge of hysterical.

  “What lesson? That you’d stop loving us if we disobeyed you?”

  “We never stopped loving your sister.” With these words, her mother sounded pained for the first time Rose could remember when the subject of Morgan came up.

  “You should tell her that, then. A few phone calls a year and seeing each other at Christmas doesn’t exactly make her feel like you love her. For God’s sake, you didn’t see your grandson for the first two years of his life.”

  “And you don’t think I regret that every day?”

  Rose watched the rain fall onto the sidewalk and the crowded street. People passed with their hoods raised, and she realized that the rain had picked up since she’d been under the awning. “I regret never being able to come to you,” she said. “I wish I could’ve had my parents on my side when I needed them the most.”

  A few beats passed, and then her mother spoke.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Tears stung Rose’s eyes for the second time that day, and this time, she wasn’t able to hold them back. She’d been waiting for the words longer than she’d realized. She clenched her jaw, not sure how to respond and not wanting to make her mother think that one apology was good enough to make up for everything that had passed between them.

  “This time will be better.”

  At these words, Rose had to laugh. “How do you imagine that’ll work?”

  “We want to be part of your life, Rose. And Luke’s, if he’s the one you’ve chosen. I don’t want to miss out on this grandchild’s life, too.”

  Rose scanned the street, taking in the sight of the children clinging to their parents’ hands and shuffling along through the puddles forming on the sidewalk.

  “Tell Morgan everything you’ve told me,” she said softly, “and then we’ll find a way to make that happen.”