He’s so tall standing in front of me that I’d have to crane my neck up to make eye contact or stand up. Neither appeals to me. So I don’t look at him and I stay seated in my chair.
“Or maybe we should wait for the results to make sure what we’re discussing is appropriate.” I flip through the Vogue magazine I found on a table.
“You realize Lucas is yours. Why would I lie about that?”
“Honestly, I don’t understand why you thought any of this was a good idea. So the inner workings of your mind are a bit of a mystery to me.” I toss the magazine onto the nearest table and stand. “I’m with Finn. We’re together. So what you think you’ll accomplish won’t happen.”
He raises his coffee and takes another drink. “I didn’t want to head in this direction, but you’re forcing my hand.”
“Welcome to my world,” I mumble.
“You gave up your rights with the paperwork your father had you sign.”
“Which I did under duress. I was deeply depressed. That can be proven with a few inquiries to my doctor.”
“Sure. Maybe. But your father will testify, if it comes to that, that you were of sound mind and body when you signed those papers.”
A denial rises in me. But we’re in this situation because my father believes he knows better than me. He doesn’t like Finn. Those two reasons alone are enough to prompt his interference. Add in Eric as a surrogate son after my brother died, and my protest is a waste of my breath. Even if my doctor would counter my father’s claim, the court battle might drag on forever. My father likes to win.
“Tell me what you want,” I say. “Then I can tell you how much you won’t be getting.”
“You and me. Together. Marriage. Raise Lucas as a family unit.”
“Not happening.”
“Then I suppose you won’t have much to do with your child. Shame. I guess I can always tell him you’re dead.” His eyes bore into me.
He knows about my mother. Doesn’t surprise me. My father probably told him the whole sob story with his own slant on the details. “If that baby is biologically mine, you can bet your ass I’m not letting you raise him without me.”
“If you’re not part of our family—fully a part—then you’ll have to take me to court to get access. That’ll take years. Not to mention, we’re in Russia. What are your Russian contacts like? Cause I’ve taken the last year to hone mine in the right circles. I’ve studied the chessboard, determined how to win no matter what move you made.”
Oh, God. He’s spent a year planning my downfall right into his arms. While I was buzzing around obsessing over Finn, overseeing his life from a distance, Eric was building a web so tight my escape appears impossible.
“We were good together,” he says. “I screwed up. I realize that. This time, it’ll be different. Wasn’t so long ago I was the man warming your bed.”
A shudder of revulsion goes through me at the memory of leaving Finn in the hallway to go to Eric. What the hell had I been doing?
“It wasn’t long ago you were fucking Valeriya. In order for me to believe you’ve changed, well, you would have had to actually change. Convenient she died before a DNA test could be done on her baby.”
“Oh, she was pregnant, was she? Such a shame.”
“I’m sure the baby was yours. I’m sure you had a hand in her murder.”
“Hmm.” His brown eyes search my face and a smirk plays at the edges of his mouth. “Are you telling me you’ve got a problem with murder? Cause I’d have to call bullshit. You’ve been fucking a murderous psychopath for weeks.”
Heat rises to my cheeks, but I’m not backing down. “There’s a difference between killing someone because it’s part of your business and killing someone because they’re standing in your way.”
“Oh.” Eric raises his eyebrows. “You’re going to try to defend him. Well, I suppose to that I’d say, do you honestly think Finn’s never killed for no reason? Cause if you believe that, I’ve got swampland in Florida to sell you.”
Jay, who is within earshot, tenses, probably at Eric’s know-it-all asshole tone which is out in full effect.
“You’re deluded if you consider him a better man than me.”
I’m tempted to shove the coffee in his face and laugh as it burns him. An unexpected, almost uncontrollable rage surges through me.
Jay strides to me with a sense of purpose. “Carys, can I have a word?” He tilts his head.
Eric’s gaze rakes over him before he focuses on me again. “You have a choice. You might not like the choice, but it exists. If you don’t want to have a role in Lucas’s life, I’ll raise him on my own. I’ve always wanted a son I could mold into my likeness.”
Bile rises into my throat at the realization my son could be anything like Eric. At one time, for whatever reason, his faults didn’t seem written so large, so hard to ignore. But now, it’s one character fault after another with no end in sight. Finn is a better man. Maybe not in the ways Eric counts, but he is better in every way that counts to me.
Jay’s hand is on my elbow, and he’s steered me away from Eric and down a hallway leading to the bathrooms before I have a chance to process Eric’s words.
“What?” I snap. “What do you need?”
He releases my arm and takes a step back from me. “Nothing. I just thought you’d like to be outta that conversation.”
I sink to the floor with my head in my hands. “What am I going to do?” When I glance up, his face is full of sympathy. “Did you hear everything? The things he said? How badly he’s fucked me over?”
“I did.” He deposits his phone into his pocket and leans his shoulder against the wall.
“You and Finn were searching for weeks. None of this was there?”
Jay shifts with obvious discomfort. “Maybe, looking back there were a few fertility-related things sprinkled in.” He shrugs. “When I pointed them out to Finn, he said he didn’t care who Eric was trying to get pregnant now.”
I wince.
“Sorry.” He rubs the side of his face. “I take it he doesn’t realize the shit you went through and the things you and Eric did to get pregnant before?”
“No.” I laugh, but it has no humor. “I didn’t think it mattered.”
We sit in silence. What’s he thinking? My mind feels like a bomb went off, and I keep searching the fragments of my life for what will make me happy. The pieces don’t fit together anymore. Nothing makes sense.
“What are you going to tell Finn?”
“Fuck if I know.” I throw up my hands.
He chuckles. “You sound like him.”
“This is a nightmare. A baby shouldn’t feel like a nightmare.” My voice wavers. “If Lucas is my baby, I should be happy.”
He crouches across the hall from me. A few tears trickle down my face, and I wipe them away. He touches my shoulder, and I glance up.
“Finn won’t let you go without a fight.”
“I know.” My voice catches. “My greatest fear and my biggest hope.”
My phone pings, and Jay’s sounds at almost the same time. He removes his from his pocket before I can retrieve mine from my purse.
“Finn’s in the lobby.”
“Tell him to come here. I’d prefer not to do this in front of Eric—whatever way the results go.”
Within moments, Finn is framed at the end of the hallway. His hands are stuffed into his pockets, but I can’t read him. Is Lucas mine, or is he someone else’s?
I rise from my spot against the wall, but I need to keep leaning on it. Hope and fear wash over me in alternating waves. Which way do I want it to go? I want both and neither. Nothing and everything.
Finn stops in front of me, and his pale blue eyes scan me. “He’s yours.”
A cry escapes me. Anger or relief? I grab Finn, hugging him, burying my face into his chest. His hands ease out of his pockets at a glacial pace and circle around me.
“Now what the fuck do we do?” Jay asks from behind me.
~ * ~
The whole day has been a blur, from Eric’s pompous expression when I admitted Lucas was mine, to Galina taking me through the steps to care for him, to the distance Finn has put between us.
Or maybe I’m imagining his aloofness. Maybe I’m the person putting the space there. My world has tilted on its axis, and I can’t shift reality back, make it level again.
The thing I do know? I’m exhausted. Emotionally and physically drained. So when Lucas goes to bed for the night, or however many hours before he needs to feed again, I head to bed. Finn trails behind me, his hands in his pockets.
Eric tries to catch my attention, but I’ve been ignoring him all day. I don’t give a shit if Lucas is biologically his baby too. Ever being with him in any way makes my stomach heave like I’m on a boat tossed around by the sea.
Finn closes the door to the bedroom and then leans back against it. “You look tired,” he says before pushing off and ambling toward me. He tosses his wallet and other odds and ends on the nightstand.
“Did you want to talk?” I ask.
Finn’s gaze searches mine. “About what? He probably wants me out of your life. I’m not fucking going.” He hesitates and focuses on a spot above my head. “Unless that’s what you need. Then I’ll do it.” His hand grazes my arm.
“Did Jay tell you?”
He chuckles and makes eye contact again. “He gave me the Coles Notes version of your conversation with Eric.”
“So you know.”
“He won’t let you raise Lucas if you stay with me? Yeah.”
“How do I get around his ultimatum? He’s spent months locking me in without me even realizing it.”
He presses his lips to my forehead. “I made calls today. He’s not chasing me away. No one forces you into something you don’t want.”
“So you won’t leave me?” My voice hitches at the end as I hold back a sob.
“I’m not going anywhere unless you ask me to.” His voice is gruff.
I kiss him. “Don’t go,” I murmur. “Don’t ever go.” But even as I say the words, anxiety eats at my stomach.
He deepens the kiss and jerks my shirt over my head in one swift action. There’s a desperation in my movements as I tug on his jeans and remove his boxers. As though part of me needs the closeness to prove to myself that this, what’s between us, is still real. We won’t burn out or fade away because Eric is trying to extinguish us. But even as he slides into me, and I pull him tight against me, something has altered. I’ve got one foot out the door, and I don’t know how to get myself back in.
He cups my face and stares at me. “Get outta your head, Carys. Be here with me, in the moment.”
Tears spring to my eyes. “I’m just so afraid to lose you.”
“Tell me what you need.”
“Tell me you love me.”
His lips brush against mine as he slides out and slips in again. I clutch onto him, keeping him as close as possible. “I love you,” he murmurs.
He keeps telling me over and over while we pleasure each other until I almost forget why he needs to say it at all.
~ * ~
When my eyes pop open, I’m not sure why I’m awake. I lay in for a moment with his arm draped across me and listen for a sound. Was the noise Lucas? Did I hear him? Galina’s room is between ours. Could I have heard him? He’d have to be screaming.
What if he’s hurt? Or sick?
Moving his arm, I sit on the edge of the bed, tense, listening.
“What’s wrong?” he mumbles into his pillow.
“I’m going to go check on Lucas.” I glance at him over my shoulder.
He runs his hand along my waist.
“Want me to come?”
I shake my head and then realize he still hasn’t opened his eyes. A laugh escapes me, and he cracks open an eye. “No need for both of us to be tired in the morning,” I whisper into the too-quiet room. “I just need to see him.”
Finn’s breathing evens out, and I can’t help smiling. There’s something so boyish about him in bed, asleep. The toughness vanishes, and in its place is a peacefulness he rarely shows when he’s awake. My heart aches with love.
After throwing on a robe, I open our door and creep down the hall. The last thing I want is to wake Lucas if he’s sleeping. His door is ajar, and I push it wide with my fingertips. The crib sits in the middle of an oversized room. There’s a rocking chair, a recliner, a change table to the left, and a selection of books and toys in bins on the right. Earlier today, the details in the room made me wonder how long Eric intended to stay in Russia.
When I get to Lucas’s bed, I stare at him, my swaddled bundle, and a surge of hope sweeps through my chest. He’s mine. Someday this little person will call me Mommy, will tell me he loves me, will rush into my arms because he’s delighted to see me. Every thought is amazing and terrifying. None of these dreams are new. Seven other times I had them when I learned I was pregnant. The joy, the hope, visualizing the future, making plans, buying things, in love with someone who barely existed. In each instance, my dream ended in tragedy. This time there’s a baby. Not a ghost, not an idea yet to develop. My baby.
“He has your dad’s nose.”
I tense and half-turn toward the door where Eric is silhouetted in the entry. “I hadn’t noticed.”
He comes to stand beside me and gazes at him. “Your dad pointed it out, and I had to agree.”
“Of course he did.”
We remain in silence, and I wish more than anything he hadn’t interrupted my moment with Lucas. It’s the first time I’ve been alone with him today.
“Have you thought about what I said?”
I can’t meet his gaze. “I don’t want to be with you, Eric.”
His hand trails along my side. “You’d get used to being with me again. We were good together once.”
“That’s not what I want anymore.” I force myself to establish eye contact. Had I ever wanted him? Being with Finn made everyone who came before or after him seem insignificant, unimportant.
He takes in my appearance, and his eyes darken. “You were always good for more than one round.” He reaches for the tie on my robe. “And I don’t mind Finn’s sloppy seconds. Perhaps you need a reminder of how good we used to be.”
I swot his hand away. “Eric. Don’t.”
“Relax, Carys,” he mutters. “You’ve always been an easy lay. Don’t start being a prudish bitch now.” His hand catches a tie, and he yanks on it.
“Take your fucking hands off her,” Finn growls from the doorway.
Eric whirls toward the sound of Finn’s voice, and I breathe a sigh of relief seeing him standing there. I draw the two sides of my robe together and step around Eric.
“It’s inevitable, Carys. If you want your baby, you’ll say yes. We’re a package deal.”
In the entryway, Finn clenches and releases his fists. He lets me slip past, but I don’t go too far. I’m afraid of what he’ll do.
Before I can grab his arm, he storms Eric and wraps his hand around his neck, pressing him up against the wall. Eric lets out a startled noise.
“I’m thinking something might be inevitable. But it won’t be Carys saying yes to you.” Finn’s voice, low and dangerous, sends a shiver down my spine.
Eric meets Finn’s challenge with his customary ignorance. “We’ll see.”
His sense of self-preservation is lacking.
“I’ll kill you before I let you lay another hand on her. You think you’re the only person with Russian contacts? You think you can threaten her, and I’ll just let it go? Inviting me here was a pompous, idiotic mistake.”
“Finn.” I ease my hand across his shoulders. The more Eric fights back, the angrier he’ll get. He’s used to eliciting fear. Eric should be pissing himself. At my touch, Finn’s shoulders lower, his grip on Eric easing.
“Come on,” I say. “Come on. Come with me to our room. Lucas is in here. Not in front of him, okay? I don’t want him waking up to this
.”
Finn gives him a final shove, and Eric’s head thuds against the wall. “You stay the fuck away from her, or you’re dead.”
When we get to the doorway, Eric says, “Inviting you wasn’t a mistake. I wanted you to understand you can’t win. The honorable thing would be to let her go. Let her embrace what she’s always wanted. A real family.”
Finn tenses and turns. His face is murderous. I wrench on his arm, dragging him back to our bedroom. Pushing him in first, I close the door behind us.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Finn
Before the door clicks closed, I’m striding over to the dresser where I stashed my gun. I check how many bullets I have. A full clip. Perfect. I only need one.
“Finn,” Carys says from the doorway.
There are no words for the anger raging inside me right now. The warning in her voice is easy to ignore. He put his hands on her as though he was entitled to her body, as though she’s an object he can take and use as he likes. There is no fucking way I let that smug asshole get away with that.
When I get to the door, she’s pressed against it.
“Move.”
“No.”
“If I kill him, our problems go away.”
“They don’t. And if you think about it, you’ll know why.”
“I don’t fucking care. He’s not railroading you. He’s not forcing himself on you. None of that is happening—ever.”
“I love you, Finn.” She molds herself to me.
I close my eyes and try to block out the smell of her. When her hands slide around my waist and her ear is on my chest, I can’t hold onto my rage.
“I love you.” Her voice is muffled by my shirt.
My arms stay at my sides, the gun still grasped in one of my hands. I want to kill him for putting her in this position.
“I love you.” She lifts her head, but I keep my gaze focused above her. “Can I talk to you?”
“You won’t change my mind.”
“What would we tell Lucas? If I let you kill Eric, what would we tell him?”
“Nothing,” I say. “He doesn’t need to know. Dad’s dead is enough.”
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