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Yeah, I fucking wished she’d come back or called, after leaving that letter, and made damn sure that I knew I had a child. But she’d been little more than a kid. Barely eighteen. And considering her background and lack of help, she must have been terrified to find herself pregnant with no real way to provide for either herself or our baby.
She could have hit me up for child support the moment she found out I’d inherited a massive fortune.
She’d known I was rich, but had never asked for a damn thing.
And God knew she could have used some help after she’d gotten back to Citrus Beach. She’d taken care of Maya the only way she knew how . . . by working herself half to death.
“Why didn’t you ever hit me up for child support?”
Her soft sigh drifted through the cab of the truck. “Why would I ask you to support Maya when I thought you didn’t give a damn whether she existed or not?”
“Most women would,” I pointed out.
“I’m not most women. Maya and I have survived alone since she was born. We managed.”
“I know it was all a misunderstanding,” I said. “But I feel guilty as shit because I wasn’t there.”
“Don’t,” she said immediately. “I didn’t know I was marrying into an infamous crime family back when I wanted you to come for me. But looking back, it probably wouldn’t have been safe for you if you had come. Marco was ruthless about getting what he wanted. And he wanted me.”
I wanted to tell her that I wouldn’t have given a shit who I had to face down to get to her and our child, but I let the comment slide. “Did he treat you good? You said he ignored Maya, but what about you?”
“He wasn’t a nice man,” she said carefully. “He was having some kind of midlife crisis, I think. He thought a trophy wife would help, I guess. My duty to him was to make sure I always looked perfect and stayed by his side whenever we went somewhere. But he never wanted me to make conversation. He didn’t see me as a person at all. I was pretty much just a possession.”
“What an asshole,” I cursed.
I couldn’t imagine a guy having a wife like Skye and not treating her like she mattered.
“Luckily, he kind of lost interest in showing me off after a year or two,” she answered without any discernable emotion. “And I was glad. I got to spend more time with Maya instead of twisting myself in knots trying to make him happy.”
“When did you know what he really was?” I asked.
She was silent for a few moments before she answered. “I think I always knew something wasn’t right. He was out more at night than he was during the day, and it seemed strange that he could conduct a legitimate business that way. The first thing I realized was that his so-called church wasn’t exactly a safe haven. His family used the church to find victims for human trafficking. They promised runaways the world, and then enslaved them. Some of them were just teenagers. Once I realized that, I was able to look at everything he was doing and figure out that there was drug running, money laundering, and a myriad of other illegal activities happening, too. I never saw any of the murders, but they happened. If somebody got ready to rat them out or betray anyone in the family, they conveniently disappeared.”
“Fuck, Skye! Why in the hell didn’t you leave?” It made me half-crazy thinking about Skye and Maya being in that atmosphere.
“Because leaving would have been more dangerous than staying,” she informed me. “People don’t leave the mob. Those are the ones that just . . . disappear.”
She was probably right. She’d had nowhere to go with Maya. Which made me feel even shittier than I already did.
“Did he ever touch you?” I questioned.
“In what way?”
“Any way,” I grumbled. I didn’t want to hear about her sex life with another guy, exactly, but I was curious what her life had been like.
“Having sex with him was horrible,” she said honestly. “He was brutal, and all I wanted every single time was for it to be over. He didn’t give a damn if he hurt me. And yes, he got irritated with me and slapped me around plenty of times. But I gladly took it because I’d rather he vented his anger on me than on my daughter.”
“Son of a bitch,” I rasped, furious that anyone would touch her in anger.
If the bastard wasn’t already in prison, I’d be tempted to go after him and teach him a lesson about how a man treats a woman.
“It’s over, Aiden. I lived through it,” she said gently.
“No wonder you don’t want to get married again,” I said.
“That’s why,” she replied. “Nobody is ever going to own me again. No one is ever going to tell me how to live.”
Well, hell, I kind of did want to own her, but not in the way that Marco had.
Mine!
I’d always had a visceral, primal reaction to Skye, but it was because I wanted her to be safe and protected. I didn’t want to tell her what to do. All I’d ever wanted was for her to be happy after the shitty childhood she’d had.
“Not every man is going to be like that,” I told her.
“I know. But you’re already trying to get me to give up my restaurant.”
“I don’t want you to give it up,” I denied. “I want you to take some time to relax. I want to see you less exhausted. And I thought you wanted to spend more time with Maya.”
“I do,” she said in a harsh whisper. “And I have to admit that I’m tired. But you can’t just order me to do things, Aiden.”
“I’m kind of used to giving orders,” I admitted. “I was a senior crew member when I was out on fishing jobs. And when I came home, I was parenting my siblings.”
“I’m not a kid anymore,” she reminded me.
Didn’t I fucking know that! Skye had gone from a pretty young woman to a mature gorgeous female who had my dick perpetually hard.
“I’ll try to ask more often rather than telling you what to do,” I agreed reluctantly, knowing that when it came to Skye and my daughter, it wouldn’t be easy not to insist they do whatever was the safest and easiest way to accomplish things.
Maybe it was a little weird that my protective instincts toward Skye were still so prevalent. But they weren’t going away, so I’d have to learn to roll with it. She was the mother of my child. So it might be totally normal to feel that way.
She had a smile in her voice when she answered. “That would be nice.”
“Don’t ever be afraid of me,” I insisted. “I’d never hurt you or Maya. I might be an asshole at times because I want you both to be safe and happy. But I swear I’d never touch you in anger.”
I wasn’t the type of guy to ever hit a woman in anger, and I wanted to make that clear. That kind of behavior was for fucked-up cowards.
“I know,” she said simply.
I was silent as I pulled into the parking lot of the café. After I’d thrown the truck in park, I asked, “Do you want to tell the crew that you’re shutting the restaurant down for a while? I still think you should make it what you want it to be.”
“I want to make it different than it is right now,” she considered. “I’m afraid that if I don’t change it, the café will become obsolete. Citrus Beach has been changing for a while. It’s a small beach city that’s been growing like crazy. Trendy eateries are popping up everywhere. The place needs some specialties. It needs to be rebranded.”
