Chapter Eleven
Eve finally forced herself to give Beck one last kiss and head into her house. She should’ve been terrified that Mark had reappeared in her life, but with Beck around what was there to worry about? She was proud of her own reaction to Mark. She’d been a mess for a few seconds, but Beck had quickly helped her see what a pathetic loser her ex was. It felt as if Mark had no hold over her anymore and she could soar with Beck holding her hand.
She hummed Beck’s silly song about not riding roller skates to heaven as she got ready for bed. She was scrubbing her teeth with vigor and bent down to spit. Rising up with a smile, she gasped when she saw a dark shadow out in her bedroom.
Dropping her toothbrush, she whirled around, trying desperately to remember where her cell phone was. In her purse? On the dresser? Had Paisley been playing with it earlier? She had to call for help. Beck! He’d save her, but he was probably home in bed already.
The shadow approached and if she were alone she would’ve slammed the door but Paisley was out there. She stood up straighter. She was strong and she would fight to protect her daughter.
“Eve,” the man said softly, finally revealing his face in the light from the bathroom. His eye and cheek were red from Beck hitting him.
“Mark.” Eve didn’t know if she was relieved it wasn’t some random intruder, or more terrified that it was Mark. Yet even when he was angry enough to punch holes in the wall of their hotel room he’d never hurt her. That was at least some reassurance. “What are you doing? How did you get in?”
“Remember how you told me the code you and your family all use? Your dad’s birth month and year. 0858.”
Eve was disgusted with herself, thinking about all the things she’d told him. As she looked into his pale blue eyes she couldn’t believe she’d been so naïve as to trust him. She could see in his countenance—it was obvious to her now that she had some world experience and her testimony was deeper and brighter—Mark was dark and evil. How had she not seen it? She tried to give herself some slack. She’d been eighteen and never felt love and flattery like his before. She knew she shouldn’t be so hard on herself, but she was. Where was her phone so she could call Beck? She’d love to see him knock Mark to the ground again.
She edged out of her bathroom, walked across her bedroom, and flipped on the light, looking around for her phone. “What are you doing here, Mark?”
He splayed his hands and put a simpering expression on his face. “I’ve ached for you all these years, Eve. When I saw all the media about Rachel being burned and then Caleb being framed for murder, I kept trying to put you from my mind but I couldn’t do it any longer. So I tracked you down.”
“I want nothing to do with you.”
Mark took a few steps closer. She held up a hand and he stopped.
“Please, Eve. We were young and I made so many mistakes. You have to know that you were my first love and as the years have passed I realize that you’re my only true love. No woman can compare to you.”
“What do you want now, Mark? I still don’t have my inheritance.” She gave him a fierce glower that would’ve had even her brothers backing up.
He did back a step but he looked imploringly at her. “It was never about your money, love.”
She harrumphed in disgust. “Save it, Mark.”
“It wasn’t.” He stepped forward again. “I didn’t feel worthy of you. I was mad at myself for not being enough for you. I wanted to earn my way, make something of myself, and then I knew I’d be worthy of you. I’m a successful accountant in Savannah now. I can provide well for us.” He glanced around. “Not that you aren’t doing well for yourself, this is a beautiful house. You’re not… married to that guy?”
“Not yet.” She raised her eyebrows imperiously. She and Beck were nowhere near being engaged but they’d both said they loved each other tonight. “I don’t want anything you have to offer, Mark. You need to leave.” It was amazing how he could try to twist what happened between them. What a narcissistic liar.
She started toward her bedroom door, praying he’d follow. He did, but he moved quicker than she’d expected, catching her in the hall and grabbing her elbow. “Eve, please.” He stared into her eyes, probably assuming it was a beseeching look but all it said to her was: “I’m a politician who would lie to his own mother to get what I want, stab her in the back, and do it all with a smile on my face.”
“My Beck,” a sleepy murmur came from just down the hall. “Mama.”
Eve’s heart slammed against her chest, but her body felt frozen. “Paisley,” she murmured. Breaking from Mark, she hurried to her daughter’s room and looked in the open doorway. Paisley was still in bed and looked to be asleep. She’d probably been dreaming.
Mark crowded in behind her and stared at their daughter sleeping in her princess room. Eve hated how he tainted this room. This was her and Paisley’s house, their sanctuary. He had not right to be here.
She whirled to face him. “You need to leave.”
He was staring at Paisley, wide-eyed and open-mouthed. “She’s mine,” he said simply.
“No, she’s not,” Eve insisted.
Mark looked back and forth between Eve and Paisley for a few seconds and then he moved quickly. He grabbed her by the shoulders, pulled her into the hallway, and pushed her against the wall. Eve’s breath rushed out and her heart picked up again. He stared into her eyes and she tried for a poker face, praying he wouldn’t see the truth.
“She’s mine,” he repeated with a glower of triumph in his eyes. His red eye and cheek would’ve been almost comical if she weren’t so upset. “I have a daughter.”
“She’s not your daughter,” she reasserted.
“Oh, yes she is.” His eyes turned mean and cold. “You stole her from me. All these years. I should’ve known. I should’ve been with her.”