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Thomas is a piece of my history that I wanted to bury. Betrayal singes my soul at the thought of my parents sitting and nodding along with whatever bullshit story that bastard told them.
After all, hadn’t they chosen to believe him the first time when they kicked me out in the streets with not a penny to my name?
I feel Zayn’s presence more than see it as he comes up behind me. I feel Agatha move to the side, as well as Charlotte, and now it is just Zayn and me staring at these people who barged into our home tonight to take away our child.
“Henry’s on his way.” Philip’s voice is sharp as he enters the room, followed by Ian and Fergus. Slowly, we are flanked by these people that hold loyalty to Zayn in their blood.
This wasn’t what I expected when we returned to Zayn’s home, Agatha insisting she would meet us here. I saw the articles, the images, the slandering lies that Frank painted of Mila and me. Where he hasn’t attacked Zayn even once, he went after me, my daughter, my friend, ripping our reputations apart. Pictures of Mark and Mila, images of Ron and me, snippets of words that are from a source I dared not believe at that time. But I do now.
Ron’s image from the bathroom leaked faster than we imagined, along with jealous words from competitors that paint him in a negative light. The online version of Tattle Buzz is aflame as well, as the renowned business tycoon is being hoodwinked.
When the doorbell rang, and I went to answer, I hadn’t been expecting a social worker standing there with the police.
Right now, I can see that the woman doesn’t believe me.
“Elijah,” I whisper, my mouth dry. “Elijah can back up everything I’m saying.”
When Zayn stiffens at my side, I think for a moment it is because of his dislike for his father, till Ian asks, “Who’s Elijah?”
That tears me out of my fear, and I shoot a startled look at Zayn, whose face is blank, his eyes not meeting mine.
I swallow, not wanting to give away what seems to be a secret. “My friend. He helped me out a few years back.”
“Call him,” Fergus says.
“There won’t be any need for that,” comes a calm voice from the hallway as the man in question steps into the living room, dressed to the nines in an impeccable suit, his cold blue eyes flashing dangerously.
Sharp intakes of breath are the only indications that the undeniable resemblance between Zayn and the older man hasn’t gone unnoticed.
“Who’re you now?” The social worker’s tone is bordering on unpleasant.
In a slow movement, Elijah tucks his hands elegantly into the pockets of his pants, staring down the annoyed woman. “The child’s grandfather.”
“I met the girl’s grandfather,” the social worker hisses.
Elijah smiles amiably, eyes full of carefully concealed venom. “I’m her paternal grandfather. With a more active role in her life.”
“Well, fuck, Zayn.” Ian makes a strangled noise, and Agatha looks pale with shock.
However, everybody knows now isn’t the time to discuss what is Zayn’s very well-kept secret.
“If you have to remove Mila from this house, as her next of kin, I’ll take her,” Elijah says, smoothly.
I start at that. “But—”
He quells me with a single glance.
Oddly enough, Zayn doesn’t say a word.
The social worker hesitates now. If close family is willing to take over the child’s guardianship, she can’t say no unless she has a legitimate reason.
I clutch Mila to me, my legs shaking
with relief.
Till this is sorted out, Mila will be safe with Elijah. Anything other than a foster home.
“I can, however, vouch for Eve’s character and her background.”
