“It is.”
A faint but incredulous smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, and I want to weep for the time we’ve lost. For all the times I’ve wished Tyson was there. Not just when I first found out I was pregnant, though that would’ve been amazing. Not just when I was giving birth, but also that magical moment when they put him into my arms and I looked at our son. He was so red and wrinkled with thin monkey arms and his father’s bright, bright blue eyes. His father should’ve been there for that. The first time he smiled, the first time he laughed. The nighttime feedings. The times when I watched him sleeping, awed by his perfection. All of those times. He missed out on all of them, and they would never come back. I felt sorry for everything he would never see.
“He looks just like you,” I whisper
“I can’t believe this.”
“I’m telling the truth.”
He shakes his head, waving his hand. “No, no, I believe you. I don’t think you’re lying to me. It’s the shock of knowing I have a son.”
“I would show you a photo, but I don’t keep his picture in my phone or wallet, because Tony gets jealous.”
Just like that his expression hardens to stone. His eyes narrow dangerously. “I’m that boy’s father. He’s my son. He’s my responsibility, and I want to be there for him and you. You’re my family.”
“Tyson …” I’ve wanted to hear him say those words ever since I peed on that stick and two lines appeared. There is no way to describe how much I’ve needed him to want us, but now that he does, I realize I can’t just sail into the sunset with him. Tony’s thugs will hunt us down and hurt Christopher. He knows I love my child so his first instinct has always been to hurt Christopher. Once in the early days when he spied on my telephone call with Charlotte and she had advised me to leave him, he came into the room, grabbed my throat and said, “Try it if you really want to watch me kill that bastard child of yours.”
“No,” Tyson says firmly. “You can’t push me away now. It was bad enough when I found out what that coward does to you, but don’t even think for one second that I will allow that sick fuck anywhere near my son.” His nostrils flare as he breathes in and out like a bull. For a second I feel a frisson of fear. Tony and Tyson are chalk and cheese in appearance, but that’s how Tony breathes when he’s about to hurt me.
I take an involuntary step back and Tyson’s face suddenly crumples.
He looks at me with a pleading expression. “Don’t ever be afraid of me, Izzy. I’ll never lay a finger on you. Ever. No matter what you do or say. I’d rather die than hurt you. Do you understand?”
I nod and take a step forward. Carefully, I slide my arms around his neck. His arms come around me and I have to gasp with the pain. Muttering an oath, he holds me away from him. We stare into each other’s eyes. His are dark and stormy with emotion.
Gently, he starts unwrapping my scarf. His eyes widen at the sight of my throat. I see a flash of fury in his eyes before he masks it. He touches the midnight-blue marks almost as if he can’t believe his eyes. Then he begins to unbutton my coat.
I let him take my woolen dress off. Gentle hands lightly run over the dark patterns on my body. When his eyes meet mine again, they are brimming with tears. I touch his wet eyelashes.
“I love you, Izzy. I’ve loved you for two years,” he cries brokenly.
I smile through my tears. “I love you too. I’ve loved you from the first time you touched me. I only went with Tony because I was so lost and lonely, and I thought you didn’t want me.”
“Why him?”
“Because he pretended to be the kindest most considerate person. He told me he would take care of me and my baby. He said it didn’t matter if I didn’t love him. He just wanted to help me. I didn’t know it was all an act. He was a chameleon.”
“It doesn’t matter now. I love you and nothing else matters. I’m going to take care of you from now on. Both you and Christopher.”
“I’m afraid of Tony. Of what he can do.” My voice is a terrified whisper.
“Do you trust me when I say you will come to no harm?”
I nod. “What about my mom?”
“If she’s your mom then she is my mom too.”
My shoulders sag with relief. “Oh, Tyson. You have no idea what it has been like for me. I’ve been so frightened.”
“Come on. Let’s get you dressed. We have to act quickly.”
“Where is Christopher now?” he asks, zipping up my dress.
“With my mother. He doesn’t live with me. It is too dangerous”
He nods. “All right. Where is Tony? Right now?”
“I—I don’t know …”
“You said he was going out of town, right?”
“He told me he was going to, but yesterday he said he didn’t have to anymore. To be honest, I don’t know. He might have been trying to trick me. I’ve had to second-guess everything he’s ever told me.”
He nods. “You’ll never have to see him again, and he will never hurt my son.”
I wish his words were a comfort. I wish I could collapse in his arms and believe that everything will be all right. Instead, all I can do is sob softly because I know it is not going to be that easy.
Chapter Thirty
Tyson
“Are you sure we shouldn’t wait for a bit?” Izzy’s eyes are wide with fear as we go down to the hotel basement where my car is parked. I know I’m not in a position to get her level of fear, but I’m going to do everything I can to help her understand I don’t fear him at all and he can no longer hurt her. Ever.
“Yes, I’m sure,” I say gently. “We can’t wait another second to do this.” Unlocking my door, I help her inside. She winces as she leans back. Fuck, I can’t even think about what he did without wanting to beat the shit out of him. Let’s see what a big hero he is when he has to deal with someone his own size.
My head is buzzing as I follow her directions to her mother’s house. My Izzy is with a man who beats her. I have a boy. A son.
She looks around nervously when I park in front of a block of apartments. Other than a few teenagers playing with their bikes there is no one around. We get out and walk to her door. She puts her key through the door and before she can push it open, a woman who looks like an older version of her is standing in the hallway. Her face is white and she looks terrified. At the sight of her daughter her hand clasps her chest.
“I don’t know what I thought when I heard your key,” she mumbles. “I knew you wouldn’t be coming here at this time. I thought … oh God ...”
“It’s okay, Mom. Everything is okay. This is Christopher’s dad, Tyson.”
“Hello, Ma’am,” I greet with a polite nod.
Her eyes skitter to me then back to her daughter.
“He’s going to help us. We don’t have much time though. We have to hurry and get out of here,” Izzy says.
Her mother’s eyes widen, but she doesn’t ask any questions. Just nods her agreement. Almost as if she was waiting for this moment. Hoping somebody would come along and save her daughter.
“Only take whatever you need for tonight. We can buy everything else tomorrow,” I say.
“I’ll get Christopher and his stuff. You go get yours, Mom. Just pack a small bag.”
Silently, Izzy’s mother turns to obey her daughter.
“Please leave any mobile phones or laptops behind,” I instruct.
Her mother nods and scuttles away. Izzy takes my hand and we go upstairs. She opens a door and steps into a blue room illuminated by a night light by a cot. My feet won’t move. I stand stock still at the threshold. All my life I wanted my own family. Brothers, sisters, a father, and I never had it. Even the sad, alcoholic mother I had was taken away from me, but in this little blue room is my family. All mine. Made from my own seed.
Izzy turns back to look at me, her eyes questioning, curious. “What is it?”
“Nothing,” I say softly, but I’m so choked with emotion I can barely get the word
out.
She tugs at my hand again, and suddenly I can’t get to the cot fast enough. I follow her eagerly. A child is sleeping, his fat arm thrown over his face. I stare transfixed. Gently, she moves his arm away and I see his face. He is, without doubt, the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.
My son. This is my son. I think of my mother. How she would have loved to have seen him. Something unfurls inside me. Love for him fills my heart until it feels as if my heart will burst. I will die for this tiny life. To think of Tony threatening this innocent angel makes my blood boil.
“Oh, Izzy. I can’t believe I missed everything,” I whisper. My voice sounds broken.
“You won’t miss anything, anymore,” she says softly.
“Never again,” I promise.
She puts her hands into the cot and lifts up our sleeping child. It must have hurt her, because she winces slightly as she adjusts him against her body. Turning to me, she says, “Do you want to hold him?”
I swallow hard. “Won’t I wake him up?”
“It will take an earthquake to wake him up,” she says with a smile.
I don’t smile back. I can’t. I’m too happy. Too proud. Too amazed. “Are you sure about this? I’ve never carried a baby.”
“See how I’ve got him. Fold your arms in the same way, and I’ll just put him in that cradle like space.”