Page 72 of Redemption (Brazen Bulls Birthright 1)

A real smile fought its way through his obvious turmoil. “That’s what you want to use it for?”

“Sure. It’s for Ajax. This sack gets him through college at a decent school. A bachelor’s degree, at least.”

At long last, it really hit her. Eight had just handed her over a hundred thousand dollars in cash. She had no idea if a thousand dollars a month was fair—if she’d had that grand every month for the past ten years, though,damn, things would have been easier—but right now it felt like a fucking fortune, and Eight had handed it to her in a wrinkly paper sack.

How much money did the man make? His house and its neighborhood, his truck and bikes, his clothes—it all said working class. It honestly had not occurred to her that he was loaded. The idea of back child support had never entered her mind. Hell, the idea ofcurrentchild support had rarely entered her mind in the past ten years. He’d said he didn’t want to be a dad, he’d fucked off, and she’d built a life for her son on her own.

But now he was here, in their lives, pushing bags of loot at her.

Marcella had no idea how to react, or how to think. Her head was packed solid with thoughts and questions, and not a single one could shove its way through to the front.

Eight was clearly wrestling with his own mental mob.

So they sat there, sipping coffee, each waiting for the other to make the next move.

Eventually, Eight jumped back in. He did a cannonball right into the deep end. “What would you think about … uh … trying to be together?”

In the act of taking a drink, Marcella choked. She sputtered and coughed. As she was trying to get the coffee from her airway, she glanced at Eight. He was staring at his mug, the hurt obvious on his face.

But when she was quiet again and he looked up at her, he had a sarcastic grin firmly planted where the hurt had been. “Editorial comment?”

“No. Just more surprise.” He was trying to kill her with shocks this morning. “But Eight … why?”

“Why not?”

That paper sack drew her attention, and a nasty thought pushed through the mess in her head. “Is that what this money is really about?” She looked him in the eyes again. “Are you trying tobuyme?”

Now he was shocked; it overran his expression at once, and Marcella felt her burgeoning outrage cool at his obvious offense. No, he hadn’t been trying to buy her.

“Fuck, Marcella! No!” Shoving his mug aside, he put his elbows on the table and his head in his hands. “Why the fuck do you always have to see the worst in me?”

Guilt struck her hard, and she reached out to hook her hand over his arm. “I’m sorry. You’re justslammingme with shock, Eight, and I’m having trouble getting my head around it.” Feeling a need to defend herself with some truth, she added, “And you’ve shown me the worst in you.”

With a bitter laugh, he sat back, pulling from her touch. “No, Marce. I haven’t shown you anything like the worst that’s in me. But damn, you look.”

It wasn’t terribly hard to find Eight’s worst, she thought. He was an outlaw. A killer. Violent for the fun of it. A general asshole. Probably a racist. Their entire interpersonal dealings together had been either fucking or fighting. Also, he’d ignored their kid for ten fucking years.

Feeling inexplicably reluctant to say all that, she asked instead, “Why do you want to be with me?”

“Ajax, for starters. And that’s a pretty fucking big reason.”

“Is it?”

He looked at her like she was nuts. “He’s our kid.”

“And he’s ten years old, and we’ve never been together. Eight, we’veneverbeen together. What we did back in the day, that was nothing like a relationship. That was fucking.”

“And we’re great at it together. So there’s reason two.”

“Eight.” She shook her head. “Those aren’t good reasons. Do you even like me?”

Staring at his coffee cup again, he hesitated a long while before he finally nodded. “I do.”

“You had to think about that a long time, and you can’t even look at me when you say it.”

He looked up and met her eyes. “I like you, Marce. I just … I never did a relationship. I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel. But I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“I find that hard to believe. I know you weren’t thinking about me all the years you ignored us.”

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