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She grits her teeth. “No. I’m not. But—”
“It sure as hell sounds like you are.” I roll my eyes heavenward. “She is the person who took Benjamin from his crib. She handed him to the Albanians to protect herself. What excuse does she have?”
“Noelle is selfish and a coward, but she isn’t evil. If she knows something now that can save him, I know she’ll tell me.”
“It’s too fucking late.” I kick the other stool over. It crashes against the island, taking a chunk out of the quartz countertop. I blow out a deep breath. “It’s too late to save him, Piper. It’s over. Thanks to you—your friend—my son is—”
“Me?” She blinks at me, her eyes suddenly glassy. “You just said… You think this is my fault?”
“This is Noelle’s fault. This is Kreshnik’s fault.”
This is my fault.
“But you think I’m responsible, don’t you?” she asks softly. “You’re afraid that if I go talk to Noelle, I’ll mess something else up. You don’t want to keep me locked up for my safety; you want to keep me locked up foryours.”
Her hair is limp from hours on the plane, but I can remember the way the auburn strands tickled my skin while we were in bed. I can perfectly recall the way her wide eyes looked up at me with wonder.
Now, that is all gone, stripped away.
Just like everything good in my life.
“You have to be able to see that everything I’ve done has been for you.”
I hear Sergey in my words. And I hate it.
Because I know it’s a fucking lie.
I want Piper to see that I’m just taking care of her, but I understand why she doesn’t. Not after the hell I put her through.
She flips her hair over her shoulder and lifts her chin. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, Timofey. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to become your prisoner.”
With that, she swipes her phone off the island and turns to leave.
A slideshow flicks through my mind. Picture after picture of the people I’ve failed.
My mother committed suicide after her parental rights were stripped away.
Emily was killed after I let her withdraw from me and our bond.
And Benjamin… I left him unguarded with a strange woman in the house. Now, he is gone. Dead.
It’s all my fault. All of it.
As Piper heads for the front door, the overwhelming urge inside of me is to stop her. To grab her by the hand and drag her back into my house. Back into my arms where I can protect her and the baby we’ve created.
I’m not thinking about how much she’ll hate me for locking her up. I’m not thinking about anything.
Which is why I wrap my arms around her, pinning her hands at her sides, and carry her back to the nursery.
“What the hell are you doing?” she shrieks, flailing and kicking. But my grip is firm and she can’t wiggle free.
I carry her into the nursery and head for Benjamin’s closet. Piper gasps when she realizes what’s happening. “Timofey! No! Don’t put me in there! You can’t—”
“I’ll do whatever I have to do to keep you safe.”
Then I put her in the panic room and close the door.
30
