Destination Connelly (The Colloway Brothers Book 4)

by K. L. Kreig

  I nod mutely, biting my lip to keep from bawling.

  “Why are you crying?” She brushes away the drops tracking down my face, choking me up even more.

  “I just love you so much,” I manage to say. Her face brightens. It instantly makes me feel better.

  “Do you believe me? About Connelly?” she asks almost pleadingly.

  I smile softly, moisture blurring my vision. “Of course I do. It’s right to trust your gut feelings.”

  A brilliant smile lights up her face, driving much-needed warmth into my frigid soul. “I think so, too, Mommy. And I have a good feeling about him.”

  I tug her to me for a hug, kissing her red-covered crown. “Me too,” I croak halfheartedly, not sure I believe my own words.

  I can live with Connelly disappointing or hurting me. It’s hard; I won’t deny it. I’ll never love another. I’ll never marry. I’ll never grow old with someone by my side. Fine. I’m an adult, I’ve made my own bed and I will lie in it, suffering the consequences, whatever they may be.

  What I won’t tolerate, however, is him disappointing our daughter. She’s entirely innocent in this charade I’ve played. I won’t have him taking out his anger on her in any way, shape, or form. She already believes in a man she’s met for all of ten seconds and while I still hold out hope that they can have a relationship, that that’s what Connelly will want, if he doesn’t, I don’t want her heart torn to ribbons by him the way he did mine.

  “Hey, how about banana pancakes?”

  Excitement dances in her eyes. Zel is a pancake fiend. She’d eat them for every meal if I let her.

  “Can I make the batter?”

  “Of course. I’ll even let you flip them.”

  “Really?” She jumps to her knees and bounces up and down.

  I laugh. Sliding out of bed, I grab a robe from the back of my door. I slip it on and tie the sash tight. “Really.”

  Grabbing her hand, we head to the kitchen. A few minutes later with the concoction made, we pour four small blobs on the hot griddle. I rest against the counter, just taking her in as she impatiently keeps lifting up the edges to see if they’re ready.

  As she chatters away about Connelly, Connelly, Connelly, I stop paying attention. She’s absolutely enthralled by him when all I can think of is that I’ll do anything I have to in order to protect her from being hurt by my mistakes. Or by a father who may not even want her.

  And out of everything, that’s the toughest pill to swallow. I can’t place too much faith in Connelly. I did that once before and got third-degree burns.

  Once again, I strengthen my fortress, brick by brick, steel beams and girders. The walls are battle weary, the structure unsteady in a stiff wind, but I’ve done it before and I’ll do it again. I have no choice. I never do. I have someone more important than myself to think about.

  I have Hazel.

  Chapter 23

  Nora

  “Hey, haven’t seen much of you around lately,” Brad says when I enter the break room to get my lunch from the fridge. Yogurt. It’s about all I can stomach these days.

  Despite my anxiety, Zel and I had a great weekend. Mira couldn’t make lunch on Saturday, but on Sunday, we met at a place in the burbs called Butcher & The Burger, which was ranked in the top ten in the Chicagoland area for their burgers. The two bites I could choke down were fabulous, but the mood was brought down because the entire time, Zel grilled Mira about Connelly, particularly when Mira told her Connelly isn’t married. My daughter is now obsessed with trying to set me up with her father. It would be almost comical if it weren’t so ironic.

  “Had my head down.” I feed the soda machine two one-dollar bills. I could really use a glass of wine, but drinking during work hours is somehow frowned upon, so Diet Coke it is.

  “Are you okay, Nora?” Brad asks lowly from behind me. When his hand runs down my bare arm, I close my eyes, willing the tears away.

  “Not really, but I’ll be fine.”

  “It’s Colloway, isn’t it?”

  Spinning around, I quickly case the room to ensure we’re alone before pinning him with a glare. “He’s your boss now, Brad. Give him a little respect.” I have no idea why I’m defending Connelly, but Brad’s consistent digging at him is starting to get under my skin. Regardless of Connelly’s and my personal issues, Brad’s behavior is inappropriate.

  “I knew it,” he announces, a cross between angry and concerned. He takes a step into me. I back up against the cool machine. “Did he hear me in your office? About Hazel?”

  I shake my head, not wanting to talk about this with him. The ease with which Brad drew that conclusion in the first place only reaffirmed my need to tell Connelly about Hazel. I should have told him that night in his office as originally planned instead of spreading my legs and inviting him inside. I’m not sure if the outcome would have been any different, but it sure as hell couldn’t have been worse.

  Brad looks contrite. “Good. I’m sorry. I was out of line. I just…” He lowers his voice to barely above a whisper. “I just care about what happens to you, Nora. It kills me to see you unhappy.”

  My eyes mist against my wishes.

  “Fuck, Nora,” he groans seconds before I’m enfolded in his arms. I should pull away. I shouldn’t be taking comfort from anyone, but I need it so badly, all I can do is hang on while I try desperately to pull myself together. “Tell me what I can do.”

  “I wish I could,” I whisper. Taking a deep breath, I pull against his hold and he lets me go. I wipe the tears that leaked. Looking up, I see sympathy I didn’t earn. “Brad, please leave the Connelly thing alone. You don’t know the whole story and he’s not the bad guy here. I am.”

  His face hardens. “I—”

  “No. I don’t want to hear another word about this. About him. This is between Connelly and me. I don’t want you putting your job in jeopardy because of me.”

  “Fuck my job, Nora. Jesus Christ, is that what you really think I should be worried about here?” he rants a little too loudly.

  I huff, looking around to see if anyone has wandered in. Thank God I see no one but us. “Stop it. You don’t mean that. Brad, please. I need you to back off. Please do it for me.”

  His lips thin. Reluctantly he nods. “Fine. But I’ll be here if you need anything. And just so you know, I don’t give a shit about a fucking job. I would do anything to protect you, Nora, and I’m not afraid to take on someone like Colloway to do it.”

  I try to smile. It’s nothing more than show. “I appreciate your indignation on my behalf, Brad, but it’s not warranted. I assure you.”

  I grab my soft drink and, with yogurt in hand, exit the space that’s seemed to grow smaller by the second, leaving behind the man who wants me more than anything while continuing to pine away for the man who will never want me again.

  As I round the corner to my office, I’m stopped short when I see Connelly exiting it. Our eyes clash and my legs almost give at what I see.

  Indifference.

  Anything else I could have handled.

  Rage.

  Confusion.

  Bitterness.

  Even disgust.

  But his indifference toward me is probably the one thing that could have completely broken me.

  And now I know.

  His eyes roll to my nutritious lunch and then back to my face. Still, the coldness remains. I nod in acceptance, then brush my way past him into my office. After setting my things on the desk, I take a deep breath before I face him.

  “I would appreciate it if you could not ask security to usher me out. I’ll leave quietly.” Finding a new job will be another story as it’s doubtful Wynn Consulting will give a glowing reference, but that’s a problem for another day.

  His brows crease as he stands in my doorway like there’s some magical voodoo barrier he can’t cross now that I’m inside. “What?”

  “Security. I don’t want all that attention. I’ll leave without any fuss. I just need a few minute
s to pack.”

  He looks utterly confused. “Security? What are you talking about, Nora?”

  “I assume you’re here to terminate me.”

  If I thought his indifference was bad, I was wrong. The sneer that turns the mouth that worshipped me only days ago is ugly and mean.

  “You think now I know I have a daughter you’ve kept from me for ten years that I would send you away? No fucking way, Nora. You won’t get that lucky. You’re staying right here.”

  My jaw clenches. I can do nothing but take his wrath. It’s been more than a week since I’ve seen Connelly. We haven’t exchanged two words since the blowup and I was hoping that time would help him cool off a bit, but if anything, he’s angrier.

  “Okay. Then how can I help you?” I ask tightly.

  The steps he takes into my office look like it pains him. The closer he gets to me, the more it pains me, too—to be so near yet to know a chasm of hurt and perfidy will keep us forever apart.

  The bed I’ve made for myself is full of sharp nails and cut glass. It hurts like a bitch, but I refuse to feel sorry for myself. I have to take my medicine like a good girl, even if the poison each jab injects slowly strangles my insides.

  Without a word, he throws a single piece of paper down on my desk. I rush to catch it before it skitters off the corner. I take a minute to look it over before raising my watery eyes to his.

  Then he simply turns and leaves, and as much as I try to hold in my sob, I can’t. Sinking down into my rolling chair, I stare at the document in my hand from the DNA Diagnosis Center.

  Appointment date/time: September 27, 4:15 p.m.

  Appointment office: Oak Park, IL

  Appointment for: Nora Cantres (mother)

  Hazel Cantres (minor)

  Connelly Colloway (purported father)

  Appointment reason: Paternity testing. Expedited results available within twenty-four hours by courier.

  The rest of the document reviews the simple procedure—a buccal swabbing—and what to bring to the appointment. Birth certificates, government-issued IDs, and so on. It describes how to read the results: DNA markers, probability of paternity value, and combined paternity index value. It’s all mumbo jumbo to me and wholly unnecessary. I know Connelly is Hazel’s father, but he wants definitive proof. I can’t blame him for that. I expected it, even.

  But the thing that has me in a near panic, almost unable to breathe, is the description at the bottom about their “chain of command” process to ensure the results are 100 percent accurate. Because of their tight “chain of command” procedures, their results are legally defensible in court for things such as child custody, child support, immigration, and more. The only two words I can focus on in that entire sentence are “child custody.”

  Does Connelly plan to take me to court? Try to get custody of Hazel? Take her away from me? Would he be so cold and vengeful to do that to me? To Hazel?

  Oh, fuck. Never, in a million years, did I think Connelly would fight me for our daughter. If he wants to be part of her life, I will provide unfettered access to her. I will no longer try to keep him away from her or vice versa, but what never crossed my mind is that he’d want more than that. That he’d want her and I’d be the one fighting to keep her.

  I don’t know how long I sit in my office staring at a page full of words that could completely change life as I know it. I don’t know what his endgame is and because he won’t talk to me, I may not until I’m served court papers by some attorney’s lackey. I don’t want to jump to conclusions as this could be nothing more than a simple DNA test to verify paternity, but that innate motherly instinct rears up, sensing an immediate threat to her young.

  And when a mother protects that which she grew in her womb and has a bond, which can’t possibly be understood outside a mother-daughter relationship, fangs drop, claws unleash. Her thoughts turn focused, her aim deadly. She’s a warrior without the training, running purely on instinct and sheer grit, failure not an option. A mother will fight anyone, anytime, anywhere to protect her offspring.

  Even if that person is the child’s father.

  Chapter 24

  Conn

  The second I walk through the entrance of the DDC, I spot Hazel and Nora sitting in the sterile waiting room. I hang by the door just watching them. Hazel’s doing something on a tablet. Nora looks pissed and anxious.

  The tears in her eyes as she read the DNA appointment letter yesterday were excruciating to see, yet part of me wanted to revel in them. It’s like the cool water of her anguish soothed the hurt just a tiny bit. And how fucked up is that?

  Regardless, I can’t stop the twinge of guilt that pricks its way through my veins. I handled my interaction with her poorly yesterday. I know that and I was kicking my own ass even as I turned and walked silently out of her office.

  But had I stayed…had I said a single word, I would have slammed her door shut and taken her violently over her desk, showing her just how deep my hurt runs. The heady combination of her perfume and natural essence wafted across her desk, slapping me in the face, making my craving for her burn white-hot. It’s like she has some sort of fucking spell knit around me that I can’t find a way to break. As it was, I had to force my body away from hers. With each footfall in the opposite direction, I left another piece of me behind.

  I have missed her so fucking much these past few days, my soul physically aches. I feel like I’m suffocating without her. This pain is ten times worse than any I have ever felt.

  I’m digging deep for forgiveness here, because we have a daughter to raise whether we do it together or not, but I’m finding that well bone-fucking-dry. And to be honest, that scares me. Forgiveness is one of my biggest strengths. If I don’t have that, what do I have?

  Hazel spots me and tugs on her mother’s sleeve, excitedly pointing in my direction. Nora looks sexy as hell in her pale pink silk blouse and navy pencil skirt. The strappy navy heels she’s wearing make her calves look even more toned—like carved marble. I want to drop at her feet, spread her legs, and graze my teeth all the way up them to her honeyed center. I want to spend hours making her mindless, forgetting this shit between us.

  Christ. I scrub my face, trying to take the lascivious thoughts away with one swipe of my hand. If only it were that easy.

  When Nora’s hot balls of fire land on mine, I start moving forward. The looks on the two females that belong to me couldn’t be more contrasting. Hazel is lit up with surprise and elation. Nora is lit, but with something altogether different. Fury and indignation.

  “What are you doing here, Connelly?” my daughter asks sweetly as I take a seat next to her. I look to Nora for direction and she just smirks, raising one brow in challenge.

  Ah…so I’m hung out to dry. Guess I sort of deserve that for just springing this on her without so much as a discussion on how to handle this whole testing with Hazel ahead of time. I realize I have no idea what Nora would have told Hazel as to why she’s here, about to get her mouth swabbed.

  Guess I already made my first of many fuck-ups as a parent.

  “What are you doing here?” I retort. Another glance at Nora has her looking away, pure annoyance on her face.

  “It’s something for school.”

  “School?” I ask, genuinely wondering what ruse Nora used.

  “Yep. Kids are getting sick and they need to make sure I’m not infected before I go back tomorrow.”

  “Ah.” I sweep my eyes back to Nora’s and she’s intently watching my reaction, her face now passive.

  “So, what are you doing here?”

  I track back to Hazel and smile warmly. “Same.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, really. Quite a coincidence, huh?” I chuckle.

  “Sure is.” When she smiles at me I am absolutely blown away. Breathless. I can literally feel myself falling in love with this little wisp. I already know I will follow in a long line of fathers whose daughters have them wrapped around their pinkies. I feel the
strings being pulled taut already.

  I get an almost overwhelming feeling that I should abandon this entire DNA testing idea because I know in my heart this sweet girl is mine. I’m not sure I could stand to find out that she’s not. Strangely, I want her to be mine with everything inside me.

  But I have to know. Definitively. For a whole host of legal reasons, I need to be absolutely certain. My brothers have been gently suggesting I get an attorney. Although I know they’re right, I just can’t make myself take those drastic measures yet.

  Clearing my throat, I ask, “So, Hazel, you like ladybugs?”

  “I love them. Just like my mommy. She has one tattooed on her neck, but she says I can’t get one until I’m at least eighteen.” Hazel gives Nora a warm smile, which she returns.

  “Your mother has a tattoo?” I have had my tongue all over her entire body and I never saw any ink. “Where?” I want to ask Nora, but I’m not sure she’ll tell me, so I direct my question to Hazel.

  “Her neck. Her hair covers it up.”

  “Ah.” I wonder why the thought of running my tongue over an insect makes my dick twitch. I look to Nora. She refuses to look back.

  Hazel’s next question drags me from my dirty thoughts. “How did you know I like ladybugs?”

  She follows my eyes to the bracelet she’s still wearing. It looks worse for the wear and I wonder how long it’s been circling Hazel’s delicate wrist. Hazel quickly covers it as though she’s done something bad.

  “It’s okay, Zel.” Nora tugs her close with one arm around her shoulders and Hazel buries her face in her mother’s chest.

  “Did I miss something?” I ask in confusion. When our eyes connect again, it’s different now. Softer, as if we’ve both called a momentary truce but are still on the defense, waiting for the next volley. I hate it.

  “She, ah…she knows she’s not supposed to wear it.” I can tell Nora’s getting uncomfortable with where this conversation is headed. I can’t stop myself from pressing, though.