Page 83 of Resurrection

“Surely not now, given the situation with Eric,” my father chides with a shake of his head.

“For fuck’s sake,” Finn bursts out. “She’s a grown woman. Stop treating her like an errant child. She deserves so much better than this ambush.”

My father sizes him up for a moment before muttering, “I’ll never understand her attraction to you.”

“You don’t fucking have to, but you need to accept that it’s her choice. Not yours. Not Eric’s. Hers. Always.”

Rising, I wrap my arms around Finn’s tense bicep. He doesn’t take his eyes off my father, but his seething rage comforts me. When he was so quiet, I couldn’t read him. But this? I understand this. I’m supposed to feel the same. Hurt. Betrayed. Blindsided. Instead, I’m numb, clinging onto him like a lifeline.

“Take me upstairs.” The words are a plea.

“Jay,” Finn says.

“I’ll get your bags.” He heads for the front door. “And I’ll bring them up in a minute.”

As I’m led past my father, he says, “I thought you’d be happier.”

“I can’t talk to you right now, Dad. I need to wrap my head around... everything.”

“Well,” my father says, glancing at Finn. “Hopefully, in the morning, you’ll realize what a blessing this is. How fortunate you are to have this opportunity.”

Bile rises in my throat. Finn wraps his arm around me tighter and guides me toward the stairs.

Chapter Thirty-One

Finn

The room Charles assigned to us belongs in a museum. Historical eras aren’t my thing, but it’s clear this place hasn’t had any facelift since the house was built, which was probably a hundred years ago. From the doorway, everything seems clean enough, and nothing smells like mothballs or mildew. I sigh. These thoughts are just a distraction from the fucking fertility circus downstairs. A poor effort to calm the hell down, and it’s not working.

As I close the bedroom door, I realize I should say something to Carys, but I don’t have any idea where to start. My blood boils, rage coursing through me at Eric and her father creating this child without her consent. When she was at her lowest, they tricked her into signing away her rights to her future children. Their motives are inconceivable to me—and I’ve done a lot of shitty things in the name of profit or revenge. But this? Their plan is so misguided. How could either of them think a baby was the right solution?

My brain spent the whole conversation ticking through the complications. The situation is a fucking nightmare. Eric may bethe only legal parent. There’s no way I’m saying that to Carys because we don’t know if the baby is biologically hers. Eric or her father could try to bluff through this or outright lie. Wherever we get the DNA tested in the morning, I’m following the kit like a bloodhound. They won’t trick her again.

If they’re lying? God won’t be able to help them. Whether she wants them dead or alive, I’ll be making them dig their own graves before I put a bullet between their eyes. To dangle motherhood in front of her and then snatch it away is unforgivable. Un-fucking-forgivable.

“You’re very quiet.” Carys’s voice is hardly audible in the room.

There’s a knock on the door, and I gather my thoughts while I go to open it. At the entrance, Jay passes me our bags. Worry is splashed across his face, and I shake my head. I don’t have the slightest clue what to tell him. With a sigh, I close the door and set our luggage on the floor.

“Can you please talk to me?” she says.

Over my shoulder, I see her hand shake as she raises it to her hair.Fuck.What am I supposed to say? What do I do? I’m not this guy. Kill them? I can do that. No problem. Talk about feelings? Much harder.

“Why don’t you tell me what you’re thinking?” My voice is gruffer than I mean it to be.

“What if it isn’t the same thing you’re thinking?”

“That matters?” I shove my hands into my pockets. Maybe if I’d gone to therapy as a kid like Lorcan’s mother wanted, I’d be better at this. Instead I’m fumbling around in the dark. And not the fun kind of fumbling.

She takes a shaky breath. “I was happy. I had you. If I have this baby, I’m afraid I won’t have you. It just”—her voice cracks—“seems so unfair. I might finally have the two things I want, but I have to choose which one I want more.”

There’s no choice. I heard what she said to Opal the other day. She’d never abandon her child for a man, not like her mother did. Could I ask that of her? No, I couldn’t. Even though not asking would kill me.

“As long as you want me, I’m here.” I stand in front of her, out of reach.

She closes the gap and wraps her arms around my waist. “I want to be with you forever. That was my plan. Would you—could you raise that baby as your own?”

I clear my throat. “You’re suggesting I could be a father to your child?”

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