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The infuriating part is knowing she could have. That sheshould.
But I fucked up. I fucked up by overlooking some very important details. I have only myself to blame for the mess that’s come spewing onto my doorstep.
She ventures closer to me. Her dress is torn in half a dozen places, but she doesn’t even seem to register the state she’s in. The fact that she’s half-naked, blood dripping down her thighs, doesn’t seem to faze her at all.
I expected her to vent and rage at me. To spit in my face and call me a monster. But what she does instead surprises me.
She makes a threat.
“I’m going to tell you something now,Il-ar-i-on.From this day forward, for the rest of my life, my purpose will be to personally expose your entire operation and put you behind bars for all the criminal shit you’re clearly used to getting away with. I will turn over every rock and comb through every scrap of evidence you’ve ever left behind—unless you tell me exactly where thefuckmy family is.”
The balls on this woman. No one—no woman, man, or beast alive—has made that kind of threat about me, much less to my face.
And yet here she is—half my size, half my weight, and none of my resources… and she’sthreateningme.
Remarkable.
“Your mother is alive,” I tell her.
She lets out a relieved gasp. Half broken sob, half delirious laughter. Fat tears slip down her flushed cheeks. “Oh, thank God,” she cries. “You’re sure? You’re sure she’s alive? Where is she? I need to see her.”
“She’s unconscious at the moment.”
“Just tell me where to go,” she says. “I don’t want an escort.”
“I don’t care what you want,” I growl. “You’re not going anywhere without my permission.”
“And who are you to tell me where I can and can’t go?” She storms up toward me, close enough that I can smell her. Vanilla and hazelnut. Enough to make my head swim and my dick stiffen.
“Assuming you’ve told me the truth, I’m the father of your child,” I remind her. “And considering that wherever you go, my baby goes, I do have a right to tell you where you can and can’t go.”
“Or what?” she asks, her feet brushing against my toes. “You’ll sick your big, bad minions on me? You’ll pull out your guns? Threaten me with violence?”
“Don’t tempt me.”
She laughs viciously. “I’m pregnant with your baby. You can’t touch me.”
Oh ye of little faith,I think to myself.There are a million ways to break you that don’t involve a single touch.
But my hands stay by my side. There’s something about her single-minded determination that I relate to. She is from a different world, but she’s someone who would die for her family. In fact, I’m starting to get the impression that she may just be someone who would killforher family.
I knowexactlywhat that feels like.
“Your mother is at Northwestern Hospital,” I tell her quietly.
She nods. “Fantastic. Thanks for sharing.” She starts to step around me, but when I intercept her, her frown furrows deeper. “You must not have such good listening skills. I thought we just established that you have no right to tell me what to do.”
“Did we now?”
Her chest rises and falls. Desperation fills her eyes. “Ilarion,” she says, her voice cracking with the weight of her fear. “Please.”
I hate this. I’d much rather have her fight me, claws out and nostrils flared. This fragility is so much harder to deal with.
“Look at you, Taylor,” I point out. “You’re in no fit state to be seen in public.”
She glances down at her ripped dress, as though she’s only just realized what she’s been through and the price she’s paid for it. “Crap,” she mutters under her breath. “There must be something here I can borrow…?”
I gesture towards the pocket door on the other side of the bed. “Go clean yourself up and I’ll find something for you to wear.”
