Page 71 of Callum

“Dammit, kitten,” he relaxes against me, pulling my lower lip between his teeth with a gentle bite. “We can’t do this yet.”

“Why not?” The words are breathy, my hips grinding against his as his lips move across my jaw. “Seems like a perfect time.”

“I need to talk to you first.”

“You can talk to me after,” my fingers scrape against his scalp, making him groan into my neck. Callum pushes away from me so quickly that I would lose my balance if he weren’t still holding me up with a hand under my thigh. Annoyed, I swat his arm away, making sure my leg falls just outside the spray of water. “What the fuck?”

“I told you. We have to talk.”

“Okay, what is it?”

“I really didn’t think we’d do this in the shower—”

“Just fucking say it, Callum.”

“Our daughter is alive.”

Everything stops as the words sink into my skin. Alive? How could that be possible? He has to be mistaken. Callum says something, but I can’t hear him over the sound roaring in my ears. My vision shakes, and I realize it’s because my head is moving from side to side.

“Rosalind.” Callum is in front of me again, pressing in until all I can see is his face. “Breathe, kitten. You’re okay.”

“No,” he doesn’t move when I shove at his chest. “Don’t, Callum. Don’t do this. She’s gone.”

“She isn’t.”

“She is.” There’s enough strength in my arms this time to shove him back a foot, but he immediately steps toward me again.

“Listen to me. The information wasn’t adding up, so I—”

Anger floods my veins, and I cut him off, not wanting to hear his bullshit about not believing me. “I didn’t fucking lie to you.”

“I know you didn’t.”

That brings me up short, and all thoughts of taking the razor to his face are forgotten. “What do you mean?”

Callum seems to notice where my attention has been because he quickly moves the razor out of my reach. “I know you didn’t lie to me. I think the GiGi’s lied to you.”

“I held her in my arms.”

“I know,” he takes another careful step toward me, our chests pressing together again. “Do you remember another GiGi being pregnant at the same time you were?”

Trying to cast my mind back to that time feels impossible. I’ve spent so many years avoiding all thoughts about the worst year of my life. The memories are still raw, but I force myself to see them in a different light.

“Cierra?”

“Yeah, kitten,” he gives me a small encouraging smile. “Cierra Holcheck was pregnant at the same time as you. She went into labor the night you had your emergency C-section, and she died in childbirth. Her baby would have been full term, but the child that the hospital reported her giving birth to was a preemie. The baby stayed in the NICU for three weeks before she was discharged.”

“Who took her home?”

“Jeffrey Benson.”

“The old stage manager?” Of all the people who could have stolen my daughter, Jeffrey was at the bottom of the list. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Grant didn’t think so, either. He’s been looking into it, and Jeffrey went missing shortly after he took the baby home.”

“Where is she?”

“I don’t know.”

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