“Not physically maybe,” I conceded as a chunk of my hair fell over my eyes. Using the band on my wrist, I pulled it up and secured it in a messy wad on my head then stood. “So we’re clear, the only reason we’re going with you is because I never expected that Trace would inherit his father’s abilities. The last thing I want is for him to become some freak in a sideshow, a pawn in the world of government, or a medical science experiment. But once we know he’ll be okay, we’re coming home. We’ll be out of your life again. Just the way you wanted it. He doesn’t even need to know you’re his father.”
Trying to rein in my emotions, I snatched the bag from the bed, zipped it up, and headed for the door.
Before I could push past him to return to Trace, he snagged me and pulled me against the firm planes of his body.
“The first thing you need to get through your head is that you don’t call the shots. The second thing you need to realize is he’s going to know he’s my son. The last thing you need to know, and listen closely”—he leaned in to whisper in my ear—“you’re not coming back here.”
Shocked didn’t begin to describe what his words did to me. Except it was more than his words. It was the way his lips lingered against the curve of my ear as he said them. The familiar ache that filled me at being against him. An ache that began to chip away at the shell of hate I’d erected around my heart, sending cracks that weakened any defense I had against him.
“Don’t play with me. I’m not one of your whores,” I spat in desperate self-preservation. Anything to make him let me go.
“Funny. Because you seem to be good at fucking me, then running away.” The pain that stabbed through my chest at his hateful words made my breath catch.
I wasn’t stupid, but my mouth wouldn’t be still.
“I know we were both hurt by my mother’s actions when I was fifteen. But it’s unfair of you to imply that what happened after your mother’s funeral was my fault. You left that time. Then rejected me and your son when I reached out to you.”
“Goddamn it, I didn’t send that email. I already told you that. Obviously you didn’t believe me. I’ve never used that email in my life. Where did you send the letter?” he asked with his face still pressed to the side of my head.
“I gave it directly to your father,” I ground out, daring him to deny it. Though I knew he and his father didn’t have a good relationship when he was growing up, he never said why. His wife’s death seemed to have made him different, and he’d been downright kind when he made me his promise. “He said he’d send it to you.”
Jude groaned and he burrowed his hand into my hair. He nuzzled into my hair before his lips kissed my neck. “So much time wasted,” he muttered as his mouth continued to tease me.
With heavy reluctance, I pushed him away from me. I wasn’t sure if I could believe what he was saying, no matter how much I wanted to.
I knew myself too well, and I knew that if he teased me enough, touched me enough, I’d fall for him all over again. Despite the hurt he’d left me with years ago when he’d rejected his son.
And me.
There was no way I could survive that again.
Trace was quietly excited as he watched out the window. His hand gripped mine tightly from our first-class seats as the plane continued to climb. It was the first flight he’d ever been on, and he was in heaven. His love of all things airplanes might’ve had something to do with that.
“Mom, look!” He pointed at the rapidly shrinking town of Louisville below us. With a patient smile, I leaned over him and pretended to be as fascinated as he was. Inside, my nerves were zinging at the proximity of the man who sat across the aisle from me.
It was crazy, but I could feel his eyes on us.
Trace was probably more adaptable than I was, because when he woke and I told him we were flying to Iowa, he simply shrugged. Then he grinned and asked if we were going to see Grandpa while we were there.
Once we were at a cruising altitude, it didn’t take long before he was out like a light. It made me wonder if I’d done the right thing in letting him heal Jude. What if it did permanent damage to him? Did it make me a bad mother? I’d simply seen it as the only way to ensure Jude taught his son what he needed to know to protect him.
“That’s normal.” The deep timbre of his voice sent chills through me.
“What is?” I asked, distracted by the effect he was having on me.
“His sleeping a lot… after.”
My gaze shot in his direction, and my brow furrowed. “How long will it last?”
He shrugged, and it reminded me so much of Trace. Not only did they look alike, they had many of the same mannerisms. I wondered how long it would be before Trace questioned everything to do with Jude. “Depends.”
“On?”
“It’s not an exact science after the first onset. That usually lasts three days after the first, uh….” He paused as he glanced around to see if anyone was listening. “You know. After that, each episode is variable. The older he gets, the less traumatic yet still draining. Initially, I’d guess the lingering effects would be about a day.”
I glanced over my shoulder to see the older lady behind me had her eyes closed, but there was no telling if she was actually sleeping.
“Mmm,” I replied.