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“Lisa, are you kidding? You walked out on them twenty-five years ago!” I knocked a statue off my desk. It shattered on the floor. “Your daughter was one! Your son, three! Mitch had to raise them by himself.” I knew the story all too well.
My late wife cried to me many nights over her mother. She could never understand why she had left. It was one of the many things that plagued her. She was terrified she would end up like her mom. In a way, she did. She willingly left our son.
Lisa left Ashley and Ethan at the park. A few people saw her get up and walk away as they were playing in the sandbox.
Terrified that someone coaxed her to do it, Mitchell hired an investigator to find her. He found her in an abandoned building high out of her mind. Mitchell tried to get her to leave with him. He would get her help, stay with her, do anything for her. She refused. Said she wasn’t fit to be a mother. She told him the demons in her mind told her to leave.
I had never met her until a few weeks after my wedding. She showed up here. Our wedding was covered by every news station, so she found out. She begged me not to have children with Ashley. Lisa claimed the same demons that haunted her got ahold of her daughter. I thought she was a crazy drug addict and sent her on her way.
After Ashley's death, she came back to tell me she was right. The papers had called Ashley's death an accident. There was no way she could have known the truth. Yet, she did.
Part of me felt guilty for not listening to her and getting Ashley the help she needed. The other part feared she would come around Joseph. I would never allow her to be a part of his life. So, I started giving her money.
“They were better off without me. My poor Ash.” She wiped a fake tear from her face.
That’s when I noticed what she had been scratching at. It was a tattoo that looked fairly fresh. Down her arm in black ink was ‘Ashleigh.’ I grabbed her arm and pulled her to me.
“That better be a different Ashley,” I roared.
“Nope. It’s my baby. Mitch chose the spelling of her name. I never liked it.” She smiled at me. Most of her teeth were missing.
“You show up thinking you have a right to any Moore money, and you have a tattoo of my wife’s name spelled wrong.” I glared down at her. She didn’t flinch. “You have a lot of guts. I’m going to say this once. Leave, stop at my secretary’s desk and get your money. That’s it. If I see you again, I will cut that tattoo from your arm.”
“Always so serious, Tristan.” Lisa pulled away from my grasp, turned and walked away.
CHAPTER10
Ethan (Day 1)
When I waslittle I was better at getting into fights than making friends. It was easier to punch someone for looking at you than to ask them to share their crayons. Maybe that’s why I was so attracted to Ava. She had a great right hook.
As far as Adam Gould was concerned, I would not be sharing my crayons with him. Ava was mine. Even Tristan, who technically owned part of her, didn’t mind letting me have all of her.
Damn it, he couldn’t have her. I punched the door in front of me. My knuckles split open smearing blood. Good. This wasn’t my house. I wanted to burn this whole thing down. Ha, that wasn’t a bad idea and it would solve my problem.
The door flew open. A big burly man with crazy hair stood staring at me. I was pretty sure he was part giant. At 6’2”, I never felt short. Next to him, I was tiny.
“What do you want?” he roared.
“I’m here to see Adam Gould.” I stared him down.
“He doesn’t see people.” The giant pushed the door.
I slammed into it with my shoulder, preventing him from closing it. Fuck that was gonna bruise.
“Stop it,” he whined. “Boss hates people, and I already made him mad.”
“If he hates people, why did he buy a wife?” I was trying to distract him, so I could push past him.
“You know about that?” The man stepped back and started shaking his head. “I messed up.”
Tears swelled in his eyes. He was shaking so badly I thought he was gonna fall over. Mumblings fell from his lips. The tears turned into a rainfall.
Shit, I had to do something. He was off balance, so I was able to sneak past him. The foyer had very little in the way of furniture. I grabbed a bench that didn’t look strong enough to hold the man.Well, it’s this or nothing.
I set the bench behind him and eased him backward. He wrapped his arms around me and continued to sob. Tears, snot, and drool soaked through my suit jacket. Even his snot was giant-sized.
The man’s ass hit the bench and kept going. The legs gave out. He kept his grip on me. We both crashed into the ground.
