Page 51 of Surprise Baby for the Enemy

“Maybe I am,” I say lightly. “But in the meantime, I’m right where I want to be.”

CHAPTER 27

Derrick

My mother insistson making us dinner as the sun is going down, since I made breakfast and lunch. When I was a kid, her cooking often consisted of frozen dinners and mac n’ cheese, which I never begrudged. But she’s taken up a dozen hobbies in her peaceful retirement, and cooking is one of them. The chicken pot pie she makes us has me going back for seconds and thirds and slipping a little to Chance and Justice under the table. Even Raleigh, who’s been hiding in our room since we passed in the doorway hours ago, tucks in like she hasn’t eaten in a month.

After the dishes are cleared, my mother pours us all wine, which Raleigh politely accepts but doesn’t drink, and we move to the cozy couches in the living room. Mom tells us about her daily escapades with her chickens and goats, and which ones she’s most likely to find on top of the toolshed. I’m prepared to settle in for a quiet night of more catching up, but after half a glass of red, my mother declares she’s ready to turn in.

“I don’t know how you city kids stay up ‘til all hours,” she says, kissing me on the head like I’m still twelve years old, “but out here, seven p.m. is my bedtime.”

“Thank you for dinner,” Raleigh says sincerely, and then looks shocked when my mother comes around the couch to give her a kiss on the head too.

“You’re most welcome, darling,” mom coos. She’s so thrilled to have another person to feed that I feel a new twist of guilt for not telling her about the pregnancy. But if Raleigh were to leave, it would only be more devastating for both of us.

We say our good nights, and suddenly, Raleigh and I are alone on the couch. I roll the stem of my wine glass between my palms, and Raleigh sets hers on the coffee table quietly. At some point, Justice jumped onto the couch and rested his head in her lap, and she didn’t say a word. Her fingers scratch absently behind his ear.

The sight of her sitting beside me, wearing my plaid shirt with my dog in her lap, makes me so hungry for her I could scream.

Raleigh must feel my eyes on her, but she avoids them. “Why live in the city when you have a place like this?” she suddenly asks.

I think about her tears when I held her in the Cooper’s parking lot. Her claim that she’s been a failure all her life, and her best course of action is to run away to Europe to be a single mother. Looking at her now, she doesn’t seem like a desperate runaway afraid of her own mistakes. She looks… content.

And she’s wondering how the hell I can’t be in a place as peaceful as this.

“I bought this place for my mom to have,” I say. “Once I’d made enough off my salary as a cop.” And off bribes from Warwick Sr., but that doesn’t need to be said. Raleigh knows, and for the first time that knowledge feels like a relief instead of something shameful. Her family and I did business. That’s just a fact of our lives.

“Is that the only reason you became a cop?” Raleigh asks, stroking Justice’s head again. “The salary? So you could take care of your mother?”

I hesitate- it’s impossible not to. I haven’t discussed my past or my father with anyone. It’s always been my mother’s and my shared pain. But I’ve also never brought another person to this house. Raleigh has already seen more than any other person has been allowed.

“Yes… and no,” I admit. “When I first joined the academy, I just wanted to have the chance to punch back. I was an angry, newly twenty-one-year-old, and… I wanted my father dead.”

Raleigh doesn’t respond to that, to her credit. Her eyes are on the crackling fireplace, her hand methodically petting Justice’s soft fur.

“I grew up listening to my dad hit my mom,” I say, each word feeling like it’s choking me. “And when he didn’t want me to hear, he’d lock me outside the house for days. But when I got old enough for him to see me as a threat, he started hitting me too.”

Raleigh’s jaw clenches, but her eyes don’t leave the fire.

“My mom was tired, by that point,” I say, my chest squeezing. This is something I won’t say out loud, but as a child, I resented her for all of it. There was a time I wanted to turn my back on her too, because of all the times I thought she should’ve fought back and didn’t. It took years for me to understand that leaving would’ve been almost more dangerous than staying. “She’d been through hell and worse. There were nights she nearly died. But one day, dad hit me almost bad enough to kill me, then passed out drunk. While he was sleeping and I was bleeding on the floor, she called the police, and they got to see everything.”

I have to put down my wine glass, because I’m squeezing so tightly it’s bound to shatter. The knowledge that my mother wouldn’t call for help for her own sake, but did for mine, will haunt me until the day I die.

“He went to jail, finally,” I grit out, summarizing hours of pain and fear in words that aren’t good enough. The police combed the house for evidence and interrogated me in a windowless room until it felt like I’d done the crime, instead of being the victim. But at last, my father was proven guilty and put behind bars, and my mother and I had to begin the grueling process of recovery.

“Unfortunately, he was also our breadwinner,” I say bitterly. “The trial claimed basically all of the money my mom was able to get out of him. She and I found whatever jobs we could, but it was still rough for a while.”

Raleigh nods slowly. “Cops make good money,” she says.

“They make great money,” I agree. “But it wasn’t just the money that I wanted. I wanted justice. I wanted what happened to my mom and I to stop happening. And cops only react to crimes that have already happened, they don’t prevent them. For that, I’d need to become a lawmaker.”

I finally take my eyes off of Raleigh and turn to the fire myself. “I took bribes because they made it easier to buy this place. I took more bribes because your father told me I had promise. I became a sheriff because it’s what your brother wanted me to be, but also because having the title of sheriff under my belt would make later elections easier.”

“President Derrick Lindman,” Raleigh suddenly says. When I look over at her, she’s smiling at me, just a little. “It has a ring to it.”

I laugh. “Maybe. But I was really only hoping to make it to congress.”

Raleigh nods. “Very humble of you.”

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