“You need to leave.”
“I’ll be out front if you need me.”
“I won’t need you, just go.” I follow him to the front door, and as soon as he walks out, I shut it behind him and promptly turn the lock.
Wren makes a cute sound, and I remember how I have done all of this for her.
And I will be doing a lot more.
Chapter Three
Keir
“She’s home, and the place is a shithole.” Joey’s voice echoes through the Bluetooth in my car. “She told me not to come back.” I stay silent as I listen to him speak. I’m still fucking furious, and me breaking his arm is the least of his worries. If he wasn’t my brother, you can bet your ass he would be dead.
Six feet fucking under.
So instead of killing him, which is still an option I am considering, I broke his fucking hand and beat his fucking ass.
“She lives with a guy,” he says when I give him no response.
“What?” I didn’t look into where she was living. I assumed it was her place, as it’s the same address as her parents.
“She said she cares for him. He’s old.”
Of course, she does.
“Do I stay?” he asks, and those three words instantly infuriate me.
“What do you think?” I bite back.
“I stay.”
“Of course you fucking stay, dickhead.” I hang up on him.
The day I found out she was pregnant, I tracked her down, even though I told myself not to. After months of not seeing her, I told myself to let it be. Let her be. I knew better, though. A part of me knew I wouldn’t be settled until I saw her again and I was right.
She plagues my mind, like a fucking disease, so much so I actually thought of killing her. Finally doing it. Finding her and slicing her fucking throat, just so that face wouldn’t enter into my mind again. But no, the one I would carry in my memory would be the one of her dead.
I had moved on, or so I thought.
It’s always the way though, right?
You move on, and like a leech those memories stick to you.
She’s in the back of my mind—all the damn time.
I should have killed her instead of her husband.
My life would be so much easier right now if only I had followed through.
So much fucking easier.
“Is it true?” Roberto asks as I walk into my penthouse. He licks his lips and raises an eyebrow. “Is it true?”
“Is what true?”
“Did Sailor have a baby? And is it yours?” I didn’t share that information when I found out. The first thing I did was beat the living shit out of my brother, then I located her and left. Now, I’m back.
“She did and it is.”
His hand scrubs his face. “Shit, what are you going to do?”
“Nothing.” His eyes go wide at my words. “She had a girl,” I tell him, and he nods. He gets it. Girls aren’t valued. It’s the boys we want. Old school, yes. But it works. The women get to enter into contracts to secure protection for their families, and we get male heirs to keep our legacy alive.
“What about Sailor?” Roberto asks.
“What about her?”
He sits at the table, his hands coming up and he rests them on the top, as I take the seat where I left the paperwork I was reviewing when I found out about the pregnancy.
“You didn’t go looking for her because of the baby. Joey didn’t tell you that until after. So what about Sailor?”
“Nothing,” I say.
“If only it were nothing, but we both know it’s not. You want her, and you’ve never wanted anyone like you do her. I know it’s not my place to say—”
“So don’t,” I interrupt.
“But I’ve seen you with women all my life, boss. We grew up together. And this one you were meant to kill, yet you didn’t. Then you should have when you thought she was working for Romarc, yet you didn’t. You let her go.”
“I knew she wasn’t working for him,” I reply.
“If you thought for a second I was, you would shoot first and ask questions later,” he points out.
He’s right, I would.
“With her, you’re wearing rose-colored glasses, and even when you said it was over and she left, you still went searching for her.”
“What’s your damn point?”
“It’s that you aren’t going to let this go. And especially now she has your child. You know you aren’t. You’re not like our fathers.”
“No, I’m worse.”
His lip quirks up. “You are, no denying that. But you also know the value of family. It’s why your brother isn’t dead right now for lying to you.”
“Give me time, he may very well be soon.”
Roberto shakes his head. “Do you plan to tell your mother?”
“About the baby?” I ask. He nods. “No.”
Roberto knows my mother wants grandchildren. And unlike my father, who rots in the ground where he belongs, she doesn’t care about the sex. She was lucky to have boys because God only knew what would have happened otherwise with a father like him.