Page 49 of Sealed in Ink

“I already told you. I forgive you. I understand. If it wasn’t for you…”

“You don’t have to accept everything I do just because I helped you.”

“Helpedme?” I snap. “You raised me. You could’ve played football in college!”

“I was never that good,” he grumbles.

“Youwere, Brad.”

“The past is the past. I’m over that. I like the business. I like our life.”

“So do I,” I tell him, “and you’re right. The past is the past. It doesn’t have to control us.”

He hugs me. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Back in my room, sitting on the bed—the same bed I shared so much with Rust—I draw my knees to my chest and stare at my phone. The guilt tries to chew me to pieces, but I’m getting good at pushing that down. It’s like I can split my personality intotwo separateme’s, each able to deal with their own particular messes.

My phone buzzes thirty minutes later. The buzz sends a shockwave through me teasingly.On the corner. Black car. Tinted windows.

My heart starts beating so hard. Lust tries to take over, making me think of how sinful we get with each other. His hands sink greedily into my breasts, his groaning, his attention, hisobsessionwhen I had him in my mouth. The crush made me want to own him, and I did for those minutes. I had control like he did when he burned this storm into my skin, and his ink claimed me.

Taking a breath, I sneak out of my hotel room. I’m going to be calm and collected, the type of person my child will be proud of.

CHAPTER

TWENTY-THREE

RUST

It’s almost midnight, but I wear a baseball cap anyway. The last thing I need now is somebody recognizing me. It’s difficult to remember why I’m here, difficult to think about anything other than her body, her hips, the life growing inside of her. But I need to focus on the fight.

Oh, hell. She’s walking across the street. Her dark sweater and jeans do nothing to hide her shape. She’s tied her hair up, emphasizing her natural beauty. She climbs into the passenger seat and glances at me, her hands in her lap.

It’s almost impossible not to lean over and kiss her. I start the car and focus on the act of driving because otherwise, I won’t be able to stop myself. She wrings her hands in her lap.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

“Sorry about last time. The stuff I said. Yelling at you.”

“I don’t care about that,” I tell her honestly. “I heard what you told Brad about the videos and what Brad told you.”

“Did you know?” she asks.

“I guessed,” I tell her. “I’d seen your mom during some of her episodes. She’d been suffering for a while.”

“I’d always suspected,” she says, in a cold voice… or not cold, but more like she’s trying to contain her fire forcibly. “But it’s different hearing it. Where are we going?”

“I thought we could drive around,” I tell her. “Honestly…”

I stop myself, but it’s too late. I’ve already said too much.

“Yeah?” she murmurs in her sweet voice, her tone making me think of sex, of wedding bells, so much I should bury.

“It’s the only way to keep my hands off you.”

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