Page 10 of Sinful Bride

I don’t know what more there is to say… until I see a flash of metal in his coat pocket draped over the chair. “I have another secret. I don’t think I ever told you why I’m so afraid—was afraid—of guns.”

“Most people are.”

“To my extent?”

The corners of his mouth twitch. “Okay. Maybe not as much.”

“Right.” I take a deep breath and pray my milk will start flowing. Any minute now. I also pray this conversation is actually doing us some good, rather than him just humoring me until he leaves. “I was… held at gunpoint. When I was a kid.”

His fingertips on Taty’s face pause.

“It was one of those kidnappings purely for the money. Pay a certain amount, or the kid gets it. They grabbed me off my bike during a summer break and tied me to a chair. Pressed a gun to my head and recorded it all for my parents to watch.” I close my eyes at the memory. “The guy holding the gun shot and killed one of his accomplices just to prove how real the thing was.”

Fresh hot tears sting my eyes. I haven’t thought about this nightmare for years. I shake my head.

“My father refused to ‘negotiate with terrorists.’ Told them they could shoot me for all he cared; he wasn’t going to give them a single dime.” I gaze down at my baby’s face so I don’t have to look at her father’s. Even so, I can feel the fury rolling off of him in waves. “I was seven, at the time. And the amount was only seven million. One million for each year. They threatened to raise it by another million for each year they’d take from me, hour by hour, if my parents didn’t pay up. It didn’t matter. Stewart Hamish never gives in.”

Pasha has never been so still, so grave, or so silent.

“Eventually, they let me go.” Saying it out loud actually helps dry my tears. Because goddamn, it awakens something inside me I didn’t know has been sleeping this whole time. “Can you believe that? This band of kidnappers and thieves and, and, murderers… they felt bad for me. They felt bad for me. Said they’ve never seen a parent just give up on their kid like that. I was still tied up and thrown onto the front doorstep, but they let me go. And then Dad said, ‘See? This is why we don’t give in to demands. They’re never strong enough to go through with it.’”

Pasha doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t need to. I can sense how enraged he is just listening to this, and I get it. Holding Taty in my arms, feeling her at least try to nurse from my breast… I’d murder the man who tried to kidnap her. And I’d pay every cent, with interest, if anyone ever did.

“I’m telling you all this because I want you to know that I only lied about my name. Nothing else. I’m really, genuinely not close with my parents. At all. Did they tell me to get in your bed and get all your secrets for them? Yes.” When he whips his hard gaze to me, I shake my head again. “I didn’t even think about it. I refused. I wouldn’t have done it even if you were a stranger to me. But by then, you were… I mean, we were… We had…” I gesture to Taty.

We were pregnant.

What is there left to say? I’m tired. I can’t think of anything else. I’m grateful he let me speak my piece, and I’m hoping it at least smooths a few things over for Taty’s sake. She deserves a happy, healthy family, even if her parents aren’t together as a couple.

The longer he remains silent, the heavier my heart feels. I hoped for at least a follow-up question. Something. Taty has decided she doesn’t want to nurse, so I tuck my breast behind the gown and nestle her close to me. Focus on her perfect little features. Do what I can to ease the pain.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”

I shove down the disappointment, the still very visceral memories of his absence, and wave him off. “It’s fine?—”

“It’s not fine. I intended to be here. I swore to you I’d be here.” He rubs a hand over his face. “I never wanted you to go through that alone.”

“I wasn’t alone.” For which I will be eternally grateful.

“You weren’t alone when we made her, either.” He strokes his finger over her soft cheek. His voice is thick with emotion, with sadness and regret. And guilt. So much fucking guilt. “We made her together, and we were supposed to birth her together. But I failed. And I lied.”

Of course he’s human. Of course he’s entitled to his emotions. I just… never thought I’d witness him having these. He’s always so tough and stoic and angry. Even his laughter usually has an edge to it.

I don’t want to push him. But I feel like knowing would help. A little. “Where were you? If I may ask.”

“You may always ask.” His eyes meet mine. “Always. I won’t hide from you.”

“Okay.”

And then he sighs. “I was arrested. And detained, literally. Across town at that shithole of a precinct.”

I can’t stifle my gasp. “What?! Why?”

“There’s what the special agent said and then there’s what my gut says.”

“‘Special agent’?!”

He nods. “Someone has an inside track to the feds. He had me arrested on suspicion of gunrunning.”

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