Page 153 of Stolen Hearts

The Escalade is pulled up outside, the driver standing next to the car, and as I drive past onto the driveway I see the white sedan parked next to Christopher’s Jeep. The placement forces me to back up and park by the fire hydrant on the street.

It’s the same white sedan that rudely beeped me out of the way, and fury springs back to life inside of me. It better not be one of the new bros that Harrison has been hanging out with.

I nod to the driver and let him know I’ll be back out in a minute, then head down the pathway and through the door that’s been left slightly ajar.

Christopher stares back at me from the dining table when I enter, his face white as a ghost. It’s the same face that greeted me when I arrived in London after his sister died.

A woman in a pink velour tracksuit and a black baseball cap has her back to me. Her blond hair is tied in a ponytail, threaded through the hole. She turns when Christopher’s eyes don’t move from me.

“Laura?” I vaguely recognize her behind her sunglasses.

“There you are.” Fury lines her words. “Do you know how impossible it is to get ahold of you!”

Clearly it’s not impossible enough.

“What do you need to get ahold of me for?”

My gaze drifts to the chrome suitcases next to Christopher before returning back to her.

“Don’t act all innocent with me. Like you don’t already know. Like Brian hasn’t already given you a heads up.”

Laura takes her sunglasses off. Mascara is smeared down her cheeks.

God, I don’t have time for this. For her endless need for drama.

“I haven’t spoken to Brian in months.”

Her fists clench tightly, and her face becomes redder.

“Well, the baby isn’t his,” Laura says, moving to her right and over to a large, weirdly shaped object. There’s a white blanket thrown over it.

Is she having a psychotic break? Is she high or something?

That would at least explain the erratic driving.

“But you said you were one hundred percent certain it was his?”

I shake my head as Christopher sits still, not uttering a word.

“I was, but the paternity test came back negative, which can only mean one thing.”

Laura throws off the white blanket to reveal a baby car seat.

A boulder-sized lump instantly forms in my throat, restricting my airway as she walks toward me.

No way.

No fucking way.

The condom. The fucking condom.

A pink woolly hat sits on top of the baby’s head. Its piercing blue eyes stare straight back at me as it begins to cry.

A wave of panic rises up inside of me.

No.

It can’t be.

Surely not.

“I want you to meet your daughter… Betty.”

To be continued