Page 116 of Stolen Dreams

My gut twists. “Yes. This is her son, and I’m his father.”

Several clicks on the keyboard, an identification check, and phone call to Brianna’s floor later, we are given the room number and directed to the correct elevator. Solemn smile on their face, the receptionist says we will have to be cleared by officers before entering the room.

Each elevator ding on the ride up spikes my blood pressure. I clench then relax my fingers. Wipe my palms on my thighs. Swallow past the nauseating cramp in my stomach. Every cell in my body screams to pick Tucker up and hug him to my chest, but I don’t want to scare or worry him.

Sensing my discomfort, Kaya takes my hand with a reassuring squeeze and gives me some of her weight.

Damn, I fucking love her.

On a louder ding, the doors whoosh open. Feet rooted to the linoleum, my gaze darts from one person to another. Machines beep in the distance. Bleach lingers in the air. The corridor bright white from the overhead LED lights. People pass in different-colored scrubs—blue, green, gray, pink, various patterns.

My breakfast threatens to make a comeback, so I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Focus on my contact with Kaya, then Tucker as he slips his hand into mine.

Five breaths pass and the bulk of my unease settles. I press my lips to Kaya’s crown. “Thank you,” I murmur.

She tightens her hold on my hand. “Always.” A press of the button for the floor and the door opens again.

We head down the hall and go through all the checks with the police guarding Brianna’s door. Once we’re cleared, an officer tells us we only get ten minutes. It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him I only need five, but with Brianna, who knows what bullshit she’ll pull.

Stepping into the room, I note a third officer guarding from the inside. The boulder in my stomach shrinks to a manageable rock.

I owe Travis and Roger Emerson and Tymber Woulf a lifetime of gratitude—for how quickly they acted, for putting up with my outrageous behavior, for wanting to bring Tucker home as much as I did.

“Are you happy?”

My attention snaps to the woman cuffed to the bed. Cheeks hollow, nostrils flared, lips cracked, her face is covered in red marks. Pupils blown wide, her lifeless gaze rakes over me as ifIam the problem.

I refuse to let her spin this whole scenario. She willnotgaslight Tucker or me into believing her habits and life choices are our fault.

“For the first time in years, yes”—I steel my spine—“I am happy. You’ll finally be held accountable for what you’ve done.”

Brianna scoffs. “WhatI’vedone?” She grinds her teeth. “My life was perfect untilyoucame along.”

I do my damnedest to stay calm and keep a level head. “No, Brianna, it wasn’t.”

She opens her mouth to interject, but I keep talking.

“No one’s life is perfect. We all have our own stuff to deal with. If we’d never met, it’d be someone else whoruinedyour life.”

“Didn’t get pregnant on my own.” She rolls her eyes. “You pricked the condom, didn’t you? Wanted to keep me imprisoned, so you poked a hole in it and forced your kid on me.”

Anger boils under my skin. I open my mouth to tell her to go to hell, but the words never surface. Tucker beats me to it.

“I hate you!” Tucker yanks his hand out of mine and stomps closer to the bed. Small fists at his side, his face turns red and blotchy. “If you never wanted me, why did you steal me from my dad?”

Brianna’s cracked lips curve up in the most repulsive smile. “Yourdadstole my dreams, so I robbed him of his. Plus, the only way anyone would give me a place to stay or food was if I gave them a sad story.” She lifts her hands from the mattress and shrugs.

In a blink, Tucker is inches from the bedside. He grabs the extra pillow propped against the frame, lifts it over his head, then brings it down with awhack. He gets in two solid hits before I swoop in and pull him away.

Hugging him to my chest, I drop my mouth to his ear. “I know you’re angry, bud.” I close my eyes and pour every ounce of love I have for Tucker into my embrace. “But don’t let her take away your happiness. Don’t let her fill you up with all the ugly.”

Opening my eyes, I set him on his feet, take the pillow, and kiss his hair. I squat down, spin him so we’re eye to eye, and rest my hands on his shoulders.

“You’re my favorite person, T-Man.” I nod for emphasis. “I will never love anyone as much as I do you.” Lifting a hand, I comb my fingers through his hair. “You are so brave and strong. Even when you shouldn’t have to be.” The backs of my eyes sting as I hold his gaze. “I’m proud to be your dad and promise to love you enough for two parents.”

Tears rim Tucker’s eyes, the first one spilling down his cheek a breath before he wraps me in a fierce hug. “I love you,” he whispers, his voice cracking.

“Well, isn’t that fucking adorable,” Brianna says, sarcasm thick.

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