Page 113 of Winter Vows

“Hiya, sweetheart,” Paul greeted her, sounding as if they’d just parted days ago on friendly terms, as if they hadn’t argued two endless days ago about Bobby’s spiking fever.

“Paul, where the hell are you?” she asked, even though she knew better than to expect an answer. “How is Bobby? How’s his fever?”

“Bobby’s just fine. I told you he would be. He and I are having a blast, aren’t we, little buddy?” he said with forced joviality.

Kelsey couldn’t hear Bobby’s response. “Let me talk to him,” she demanded.

“I don’t think so. Not this time.”

“Now, Paul,” she insisted. A terrible sensation of panic washed over her. What if Bobby couldn’t talk? What if he was terribly ill and Paul was keeping it from her? “I want to hear for myself that his cold or whatever it was is better.”

“Not until we get a few things straight,” he countered.

Kelsey fought the longing to scream at him, to rant and rave until he gave in. Because, of course, he wouldn’t give in, no matter how desperately she pleaded or how loudly she shouted. He would only hang up on her. She sensed that he was at the end of his rope. She had to make herself go along with him a little longer.

“Such as?” she asked finally. “I need a supply of pills.”

Hearing at long last what she had suspected from the beginning made her see red. “Is that what this is about, Paul? Is it really only about your addiction?”

“I’m not addicted. I’m in pain.”

“Then see a doctor.”

“Isn’t that what I’m doing, doll?”

Frustration and fury brought stinging tears to her eyes. “How can you use Bobby this way?” she whispered. “He’s your son. We made an agreement.”

“And I wound up with nothing,” he said bitterly. “You stayed out of jail,” she reminded him.

“That should have been enough.”

“It wasn’t. I want more, Kelsey. I need those pills. It’s not like I’m asking for an illegal substance.”

“You might as well be,” she countered.

“You’re a doctor. You can prescribe them.”

“Dammit, Paul, I can’t do it. What you’re asking, the quantities you want me to give you, it’s illegal. I could lose my license.”

“Not with all those powerful friends of yours. They’ll see that you keep your practice. This is a one-time deal, Kelsey. Get me enough pills now and I’ll never bother you again.”

“Why should I believe that? When we signed our agreement, you said it was over, that you’d go into treatment. Yet here you are. And when this supply runs out, you’ll be back again. Face it, there aren’t enough pills in the world for a man who’s addicted to them. You need help.”

“And I’ll get it. I promise,” he said, a coaxing note in his voice. “Please, Kelsey. One last time.” She knew she would break eventually, that she had to for Bobby’s sake, but she forced herself to say no once more, steeling herself for another explosion.

“Not even for Bobby?” he asked, his voice suddenly cold. “Do this or you’ll never see him again. I’m a whole lot better at running and hiding than you are. I have the resources. And I have less to lose.”

“You’ll never be able to work for a brokerage firm again,” she reminded him, trying to keep a note of desperation out of her voice.

“With my investments, I won’t have to.”

Dear God, she knew it was true. He’d made a fortune for his clients and, in the process, for himself. He would take her boy just for spite and she would never see him again. She would be dooming her son to a life on the run with a father who cared more for his next fix than for him. She had tried to prepare herself for this moment, tried to accept that he’d left her no choice, but it still made her feel sick.

“What do you want?” she said, resigned. “Pills, painkillers to be precise, and lots of them.”

“They’re regulated. I can’t just write a prescription for hundreds of them at once.”

“You figure out how to do it, sweetheart. Just have them for me by this time tomorrow or Bobby and I will disappear.”

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