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“I was sick with guilt for checking your phone. Seems I shouldn’t have felt so bad, though, because I’d still be in the dark about your past, wouldn’t I?”
“At least rule it out.”
“Christ,” I hiss, pressing the package hard into his chest until he takes it back. “That’s why you came back? To make sure I wasn’t carrying your child? How is Meghan, by the way?”
“Her kid isn’t mine.”
I laugh sarcastically. “I don’t trust a word that comes out of your mouth.”
“Call her . . . call Ruby . . . call my parents. The baby is Cain’s. She was full term, pregnant way before I went there.”
I roll my eyes in disgust. “Congratulations, you’re off the hook.”
“That’s the weird thing, cos it made me see how badly I want kids,” he explains.
I take a step back. “And you thought you’d turn up here on my boss’s wedding day with a test?”
“Seeing CJ born was amazing, and I want that with you. I wanna see you give birth to my baby.” I screw my face up. He’s lost the plot. “I know I sound crazy.” He pauses to take a breath. “Fuck, I’m messing this up. What I meant to say was, if you were pregnant, I wouldn’t run a mile. I’d be really happy, Raven.”
I shake my head, laughing at his absurd rantings. “First of all, who’s to say I’d want your baby? And second of all, who’s to say I’d want you in my life? You left, Mac. You made me trust you and feel safe, and then you left and you broke my heart.” Tears threaten to leak from my eyes, so I put more distance between us. “What you did, was so much worse than Vinn. I have to go.”
“I’m sorry, okay. I’m sorry I left—”
“Me too.” I rush outside just in time for Vinn’s car to arrive. I wipe my eyes and straighten my hair. Other guests are milling around, and I smile at a few people I recognise. Vinn steps in front of me, Ignoring everyone else. He narrows his eyes. “You’re upset.”
“I’m fine. Long morning. Are you ready to marry Sofia? She looks amazing.”
“I think so. Too late now, anyway,” he says, smiling. It fades as his eyes stare past me. I know he’s seen Mac because his brow furrows. “He’s back?”
“Seems so.”
“Corvo, don’t let him upset you. That offer still stands,” he says, glancing around. “There’s at least fifty people here right now who could dispose of him.”
I laugh and straighten his tie. “I’m good. Thank you, though.”
MAC
I watch the way she straightens Vinn’s tie and laughs at whatever he’s saying. Jealousy burns through me, but her words are playing on repeat in my head. I hurt her worse than Vinn ever could.
I make sure I’m sitting right behind Raven during the ceremony. She needs to know I’m not going away, despite the angry looks she keeps throwing my way. I want her to do the test, and I want her to accept that I’m back for good. Seeing her again only confirmed how I feel. I love her, and I’ll spend the rest of my life making up for what I did to her.
Once the ceremony is over, we head through to the bar while the bride and groom have their pictures taken outside. I wait for everyone to be busy, then I slip into the dining hall and stare at the large seating plan by the entrance. There are three tables reserved solely for the Kings Reapers, and I’d called Gia yesterday to ensure I was included too. Raven is seated over the other side of the room, which annoys me. She’s one of us, and technically, she’s still my ol’ lady. I take her name card from the board and move it next to mine, then I re-join everyone at the bar.
Ace is bending my ear about Nottingham, but I can’t stop watching Raven. My body aches for her as she gracefully walks around the room, speaking to people as if I wasn’t here. I hate not being on her radar, and I hate not having her attention. “Man, are you even listening to me?” snaps Ace. I shake my head, and he follows my gaze. “Leave her alone.”
“I can’t. I’m back here for her. I need her, brother.”
“You need to stop obsessing over women. It only gets you in trouble.”
“She’s worth it.”
“Mac, she isn’t even living at the club. Vinn’s got her some posh apartment, and we ain’t seen her in weeks.”
“Then help me get her home where she belongs.”
“Or we could just let her do what she wants to do,” he suggests.
“Not my style,” I say, smirking.
