by Kate Stewart
“So, if you never saw each other again, how did my dad and mom meet?”
Her gaze was steady as she looked me in the eye. “I have no idea.”
Chapter 23
ANGEL
Present
I watched the small man in a white lab coat squirm in his high back leather chair.
“How can I help you, Mr. Knight?” The good doctor tried to sound in control and failed miserably. His gaze nervously swept from me to the infant in my arms.
“I need your discretion.”
“Of course.”
“The kid is sick. Run some tests. Make him better. Do it quietly.”
His gaze flitted back to the kid. “I—I wasn’t aware you had a child.”
“I don’t.”
He flinched. “A—and where are his parents?”
He’d already figured out the answer. “His father is MIA, and his mother is unavailable.”
“Why, may I ask—”
“You may not ask. I’m sure your wife’s trips to Paris and your kid’s private schools aren’t paid for with questions. If your morals are getting the better of you…” I pulled out my gun with a silencer and laid it on my lap. “I can take care of that.”
He paled at the sight of the gun. “I can assure you my morals remain corrupted by your money. I’ll just need something viable to tell my staff.”
Mian’s kid wheezed and coughed causing my patience to evaporate. “I don’t care what you have to tell them, just get it done. If this kid dies, I’ll consider you responsible.”
I stuck around for the diagnosis, and when the Doc told me the baby would need a close watch for a few days, I kept one of my men on guard in case the Doc’s conscience got any ideas.
Lucas called as I pulled up to my next stop. I was nervous as I answered the phone and wondered what trouble Mian might have found in the few hours I’d been gone. “Is she behaving?”
“Like a tigress in captivity for the first time,” Lucas muttered. “How’s the kid?”
“Doc says it’s an infection called respiratory syncytial virus.”
“Is it as bad as it sounds?”
“Doc wants to keep him for a few days, so I’ll be here longer than expected. They have him on a fucking ventilator.”
“Son of a bitch…”
“Doc isn’t taking chances, and neither am I.”
“What do I tell his mother?”
“Nothing.”
“You don’t think she has a right to know?”
Lucas had been questioning me more often than normal since the day we found Mian in my father’s house, and sometimes, it took more patience than I possessed not to lose my shit. For the sake of brotherhood, I decided to focus on the other half of my business trip.
“I paid another visit to Jonny. Ross has been moving quietly, but Jonny thinks something’s up.”
If Ross put her up to robbing me, then he’d know the buyer. Even if Mian was as innocent as she claimed, it still meant that either Ross had someone on the outside who could get their hands on the book, or he knew someone he could sell the information to. I intended to find out.
There was one question that bugged me the most?
Why would Mian bother pawning a watch when she had so much to gain from selling the book? Theo had never moved so carelessly before to not collect at least half the money upfront. There were too many holes that shed light on Mian’s innocence, but I couldn’t ignore the evidence that made her look guilty either.
“So we’re not setting her free?”
“The book is still missing, and as long as it is, she’s still a suspect. If we find the book, and if she’s not behind it, we let her go.”
“She’s not going to take that well.”
“She’s not in control here.”
“Right. Because you have a handle on your feelings for her,” he said sarcastically.
“You have something you’d like to say?”
“Nothing that you’d listen to.”
“Try me.”
“You’re too soft on this girl. If you really feel nothing—if you really want to find your family’s book—then remember what she did to your family by stealing your legacy. Remember what her father did to yours. Fuck man, this isn’t just about you. Art was the only pops Z, and I had ever known, and that motherfucker took him… from all of us.”
“What do you suggest I do, Lucas?”
“Find something else to motivate her because I can’t and won’t hurt a fucking infant. I don’t even feel right insinuating that I will.”
I took a deep breath, but when the ice in my veins failed to thaw, I embraced it. “I’m sitting outside her apartment building.”
“What the fuck? Why? I told you I already checked it.”
“I thought I’d check again and maybe find a clue on how to motivate her. I know her better than either of you do. If there’s something there, I’ll find it.” Silence filled the line. “Don’t question me again. Ever. If you do, I’ll begin to wonder if I can trust you.”
I had nothing more to say. I hung up and moved toward the front door. Getting my head back in the game, I examined the piece of shit building. It didn’t even have a security system to keep dangerous men like me out.
I walked right into the darkened lobby. The only two working light bulbs flickered, and the smell that met my nose was pungent. An out of order sign was taped to the elevator doors, so I made my way to the stairs. I hesitated at the bottom. The boards didn’t appear as if they could even support my weight. Slowly, I climbed the steps to Mian’s floor. Her apartment was the second on the right.
It was locked, but the door was flimsy, so I stood back, lifted my foot, and kicked in the door with ease. The door swung back and forth on its hinges as I walked in. One look revealed that Lucas hadn’t been laying it on thick when he described her situation. It was hard to believe that she even wanted to come back to this piece of shit.
As I invaded her space, the floorboards creaked and groaned. The walls were stained and cracked. The living space was tiny as fuck. The furniture was a fucking joke. I could tell after only thirty seconds in her space that Mian had nothing. I wasn’t even sure it was better than being homeless. She had no security or comfort in a place like this.
The hall leading to the back of the apartment was short, and with only a few steps, I was standing in the only bedroom. In the far corner was a small crib that looked well used. The bed was just a mattress and box spring. The lime green sheets on her bed were familiar. The pillowcases were black as well as the thin blanket that looked handed down a few times over.
I expected pleasure over witnessing how far the spoiled princess was knocked from her throne, but all I felt was anger and shame. She shouldn’t be living like this. It wasn’t the life her father wanted for her.
She shouldn’t be a mother.
She should be studying liberal arts in college, drinking caramel frappe, pulling late night study sessions, and dating some pretty frat.
I moved through the run down yet clean apartment. There wasn’t much of the usual furniture or comfort items like a dresser or television. She kept clothes for herself and Caylen in bins. The closet was completely empty. The bathroom was clean but only held the necessities. There were tears in the white shower liner and tattered rugs to keep her from slipping.
The kitchen was just as depressing. On the counter decorated with chipped paint were a stack of bills. The first envelope was a notice from the electric company threatening termination if the bill wasn’t paid.
I picked up the stack, stuck them in my back pocket, and made my way to the door. I’d seen enough.
As soon as the door closed behind me, a door down the hall opened, and a girl of average height with blonde hair stepped out. She was wearing a shirt that didn’t cover much and shorts that were so short she might as well have gone without them. When her head turned toward me, I noticed how young she was. She couldn’t be more than sixteen years old.
“Can I help you find something?” She was frowning as she looked from me to Mian’s door. Her gaze narrowed when it landed on the broken frame. Her attention shot back up to me when I moved.
I sensed a protective streak in her and a thought formed. I donned my friendly face. “Do you know the girl who lives in this apartment?”
“Of course, I do. I’m her best friend.”
“Then you are exactly what I’m looking for.”
Chapter 24
MIAN
Angel didn’t return in two days and worry for my son broke me. Lucas and Z weren’t talking, and other than the occasional meals I was forced to make them, I was kept confined.
When Lucas showed up on day three with a black silk kimono that didn’t even look long enough to cover my ass, I lost it. I calmly took it from him, and then pulled at the thin material until I heard it tear. I then threw it to the ground and wiped my feet on it before handing it back to him as calmly as I had taken it.
“Bad move, girl.”
“Where is my son?”
“He’s safe. You should worry about yourself.” He walked away with the kimono, and when the door slammed, I broke down.
That was four days ago.
On day seven, I woke up to Angel leaning a shoulder against the door as he watched me. Angel in control was a panty melting sight to see. Especially, when paired with a three-piece suit. Too bad my pussy had to get in line for a piece of him.
I didn’t think.
I just reacted.
“Where’s my son?” I bawled the lapels of his suit jacket in my fist. I threw my weight into him causing his body to collide with the door. Nothing fazed him as he gripped my waist and swung our bodies until I was pinned against the door. His voice was rough as he spoke.
“You’re forgetting yourself, Mian.”
“I don’t care,” I growled back. “Do what you want to me just give him back!”
“He’s safe.”
“That’s not enough!”
He didn’t react. He simply stared.
“I need to know he’s okay,” I pleaded this time. Fear that he was hiding something seized my emotions. “I need to see him.” His gaze never wavered, and doubt seeped in.
I may never get through to him.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I didn’t let go until I heard him speak.
“Bring the kid,” he ordered. He shoved his phone in his pocket, stood back, and fixed his jacket. When he caught me staring, he pointed toward the bathroom. “Go pull yourself together. Your son doesn’t need to see you like this.”
I didn’t move. I was afraid it could be a trick.
“It was not a request.”
I didn’t hesitate that time. I closed myself in the bathroom and washed the tracks from my face only for new ones to appear. It took me a few extra minutes to pull myself together.
I haven’t seen my son in a week. I would finally get to hold him close and smell his hair.
The unmistakable sound of my baby’s laughter drove me from the bathroom. I stood in the doorway and watched Z interact with my son. He made silly faces at Caylen who ate it up.
Angel’s gaze was fixed on the baby, but his expression was unreadable. I was nervous about what he was thinking. His mercy was likely holding on by a thread.
I held my breath as I closed the distance between Caylen and me. What I really wanted was to take my son and run as fast as I could. “May I hold him?”
Two sets of eyes immediately fell on me. Caylen was a little slower to take notice. With his fist now in his mouth, he finally noticed me and smiled.
He looked healthy and happy as he kicked his feet and made spit bubbles.
They hadn’t hurt him.
I got choked up as I reached out for him.
“Wait,” Angel ordered. “Put this on.” It was the robe Lucas tried to dress me in before. I hesitated, but the retribution in his eyes made me take it and slip it on. The material was soft and fine, and most of all, didn’t leave me so exposed even though I had been right about the length.
Z finally handed him to me, and when my arms closed around him, my heart folded in, and my body threatened to collapse.
“Jesus…” Angel had sworn a millisecond before his hand closed around my trembling arm and he led me toward the chair. “Sit before you drop him.”
I sat and immediately leaned in to smell Caylen’s scent. He smelled clean, and his skin was no longer pale. It was a while before I noticed the silence. Z was gone, but Angel stood near the door again where he watched us.
“Who has been taking care of him?”
“I’ve been personally seeing to it.”
“You think you’re capable of caring for my son?”
“You should know the rules of this game by now. He belongs to me until I have my property back.”
“Have you lost your mind?” I hissed. It was a struggle not to keep my voice level. I didn’t want to scare Caylen. “He’s not property to be bartered. He’s a human being, and he’s my son.”
“That’s your opinion,” he answered smoothly.
“It’s fact. We are not yours.”
“You’re both guests in my home until I decide otherwise. You have nowhere to go unless I say so. You will not eat or drink unless I say so. You will do what I say when I say. I think that does make you mine. If you want the best for your son, I suggest you make do with that.”
“And if I refuse?”
“I’ll take your son from you, and you’ll never see him again. That includes anyone you care for.”
Suspicion crept down my spine. “There’s no one else.”
“So you say.”
“My dad is in prison. You can’t touch him.”
“We’ll see about that.”
“What do you want from me? My story checked out, didn’t it? Why are we still here?”
“You know why. You were the last person in my home before the book that ensures my family’s legacy continues went missing.”
“But you know I didn’t take it.”
“If that’s true, you have nothing to worry about. When it’s recovered, you’ll be free to go.”
“But that’s what you said about the watch!”
“Things changed.”
“Like hell.”
“In the meantime,” he continued, “what we want from you, you won’t fight it, will you?”
“We?”
“Will. You?”
I studied him—the evil in his eyes and the confident way he held himself. I needed to protect my son from him. Maybe that meant losing a few battles to win the war.
I nodded and swallowed back the bile that rushed up.
Just then, Caylen started to fuss until his fussing turned into a cry. Soon he was screaming at the top of his lungs. My attention had already turned to him, so I missed the concern etched on Angel’s face, but I heard it when he asked, “What’s wrong with him?”
I ignored him and felt Caylen’s diaper. “He’s probably hungry.” The last thing I wanted was to ask him for anything but my hand was forced. “I need his food.”
He was focused on his phone, so I questioned if he heard him until he cleared his throat and said, “He had a virus called respiratory syncytial.”
“What?” It wasn’t the response I was expecting.
“I thought you might want to know what was making him sick.”
I glanced down at Caylen who didn’t look ill anymore. I was so happy to see him alive that I hadn’t noticed. “Oh, God. Why didn’t I see? The doctor… he warned me RSV was common. I should have known. I should have—” I stopped. Breaking apart wouldn’t cure my baby. “I need to get him help. My voice shuddered so I took a deep breath and begged for the sake of my son. “I know your heart is cold, but you still have one—”
“It’s been taken care of.”
“It’s been taken care of…” I repeated slowly.
“The doctor said these things normally cure themselves, but for babies,
it’s much more sensitive. He would have been at risk for lung failure.”
“Are there antibiotics…” He was already shaking his head.
“He kept him on a ventilator to make breathing easier, but within a few days, he was already getting better.” The door opened, and Z stepped through. Angel’s gaze never left us as he said, “Take him.”
“What? No!”
“I can’t let you be with him. The virus was contagious and until I’m sure you don’t have it—”
“But I’m not sick!”
“You could be.”
I shot up from the chair and backed away. Caylen sensed my distress and released a heart-piercing cry. “Please, Angel.”
“Mian.” His voice was surprisingly tender. “I am not doing this to hurt you. I am telling you to do what’s best for him.”
“He needs me.”
“Right now, he needs his health.” I shook my head and backed away until the wall stopped me. “Don’t make me take him from you by force.” He stepped forward to back up his claim.
Caylen’s face was completely red now. His cries grew, and my heart broke into little pieces when I realized I was the one doing this to him.
The rational part of me knew Angel was right. Viruses usually carried an incubation period before symptoms showed and the host became contagious. It was quite possible that I could be infected which meant, right now, the only person who was a threat to my son’s health was me.
My body relaxed with defeat and Z swooped in to take the baby. I wanted to kiss him goodbye. Instead, I watched him go. When the door closed, my legs gave out, but unfortunately, Angel was there to catch me.
As soon as his arms closed around me, I screamed and beat at his chest. He didn’t fight me or threaten. He simply held me tighter until all the fight I had drained out of me. My head unconsciously settled against his chest and my body sunk into his warmth.
I hurt enough to seek comfort from my enemy.
Did it make me broken?
“Look at me.” It was the last thing I wanted, so I ignored his command. “Look at me, Mian,” he demanded more forcefully.