Page 94 of Unlawful Seduction

“Fuck that man. To hell with him.”

“I agree. Mostly.”

“What do you mean mostly?”

“I mean,” she started and slowly turned her head. “You’ve missed him. Don’t you dare try and tell me you haven’t. I’ve seen the odd way you look at Brady, wishing his father was in the picture. You didn’t tell me everything that happened during that snowy event, but I’m a smart chick. You fell in love with him. There are often reasons for why people do something, even if the concept is tough to stomach.”

“What the fuck are you saying?”

“I’m saying that if you don’t take this hand-delivered opportunity to talk to him, then you will never forgive yourself. And neither will he. You’re both clueless and I kind of get it, but you share a son, a beautiful baby boy together. That means more than just the fling you said you had. And enjoyed I might add.”

I so wanted to smack her, but she was right. Marjorie was always right with regard to my wacky feelings. “He left and let me think he was dead.”

“For reasons?” Marjorie was prodding me.

“Maybe, but it’s been four years. Four years. Why didn’t he send me a letter? Leave me a text message? Something? Anything?”

“Maybe he was protecting you?”

I laughed bitterly seconds later. “Yeah, well, maybe I didn’t need protection from the bad guys. Maybe I needed it from him.”

“Think of it this way. You won’t know until you find the courage to talk to him. I know my best friend. I’ve seen you through thick and thin, especially when you lost Damen. This is different.”

“You’re right that it’s different.”

“Yet the same,” she said quietly. “Only this time no one died. You’ve been given a second chance. I would hate to see you deny what karma gifted you. It doesn’t happen often. Maybe that’s something you should think about.”

She pushed away from the railing, squeezing my arm.

Maybe she was right, yet the ache I felt was the same as before.

I just didn’t think I could go through the agony of losing him all over again.

CHAPTER 23

“You don’t raise heroes, you raise sons. And if you treat them like sons, they’ll turn out to be heroes, even if it’s just in your own eyes.”

—Walter M. Schirra, Sr.

Beckett

I had a son.

A son.

Fuck.

Jax whimpered almost as if on cue. I looked down at him while pulling the glass to my lips. “Don’t say it, buddy. I know what you’re thinking.”

He always did.

My pup was also quick to criticize, something he’d done several times over the last few years. Including when he’d found his way back to me.

I’d hung around Stowe long enough to ensure the remaining fuckhead who’d been after me finally believed I was dead, perishing in a fiery crash. I’d learned the news had been reported to the few remaining Valenti men who’d tried to regroup to fight the other crime syndicates in New York. That had taken the heat off long enough for me to track their activity as they grew into a force once again.

Then I’d struck like a predator in the middle of the night. My actions had been fueled by anger and hatred of everything I’d been forced to endure in my life.

Including with Mallory.

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