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Dangerous Redemption: A Single Parent Forbidden Romance Novel (Paths To Love Book 4)

Page 6

by Grahame Claire


  “Go brush your teeth.”

  “Will you read my story to me, Mr. Carlos?” I threatened Carlos with a look. We didn't need to start something that would only lead to Gabriel being confused.

  “Sure.” He got to his feet and gave him a smile I'd only seen him use toward my son.

  Gabriel went into the en suite and climbed up on the step stool so he could reach the sink. I went over to the bookcase and took a book off the shelf. I usually let Gabriel do these things for himself, but tonight, I did it to keep busy and avoid the presence that filled the room. The person who so stubbornly refused to be ignored, though I was trying my hardest to shut him down.

  “Cool pajamas,” Carlos said as Gabriel crawled into bed after changing into them.

  Batman was his favorite. He'd pick those any night of the week over his others. He beamed at Carlos, and somehow, my heart was mending and breaking at the same time. I saw the possibility of what could be and what was never happening. It felt wrong to dangle this carrot in front of Gabriel.

  When he curled up against Carlos, laying his head on that muscular chest, my eyes welled. This was a picture I'd never seen in real life or my dreams. I was the only one who'd ever been in that position.

  “Mama, come over here.”

  Gabriel patted the bed on his other side, and I climbed in as he settled against Carlos. Carlos absently rubbed his back while he read, a hint of his accent coming through, which made me tingle. If he was uncomfortable, it didn't show, doing it like a pro. And it wasn't long until my angel was asleep.

  Carlos seemed reluctant to leave, watching Gabriel with an unreadable expression. When his eyes met mine, I was afraid of what I saw. There was darkness inside him. I felt it. I pointed my chin at the door, and we quietly slipped from the room. I led him straight to the front door. He needed to go before I did something stupid and reckless, like ask him to stay. The way to my heart was through Gabriel, and though I didn't like him encouraging this puppy thing, I wasn't immune to the way Carlos treated him.

  I put my hand on the door handle and a palm slapped the door above my head, effectively preventing me from opening it. Carlos was at my back. I felt his heat against me despite us not touching. My breaths turned shallow. We were inches apart. He smelled like spice and evergreen, and I wanted to bury my nose in his neck.

  He inched closer and slowly spun me to face him. “You take care of your son, but I want to know something.” That voice shot straight to my stomach, which tightened and fluttered at once.

  “What?” I whispered breathlessly.

  “Who takes care of you?”

  Neither of us moved, our breaths the only sound as they mingled in the small space between us. His mouth was close. It had been over six years since I'd been kissed. I'd all but forgotten what it was like, and those lips were pure temptation. I stared at them before lifting my gaze.

  “I do.” I'd found my voice. I wasn't whispering any more like an awestruck girl.

  His eyes glittered. “I look forward to seeing that.”

  I gasped at the innuendo, instantly thinking of the fantasy I'd had of him watching me touch myself. “It's not happening.” I was back to breathless. I meant what I said, but I knew I was lying.

  Carlos did too.

  “It is, Beauty,” he assured me against my ear. Then his face was back in front of me. Carlos brushed his lips across mine. Sparks ignited, and when he pulled back, I whimpered. “Good night, Holly.”

  The words rumbled through me, but before I could form a protest, he had eased me away from the door and disappeared, leaving me wanting. My entire body was one giant ball of need.

  “Tease,” I finally said to the door before I turned on my heel and stalked to my bedroom. This was why I avoided men. Except none had ever made me feel so much with so little.

  He'd distracted me from the most important thing in my life. For two whole minutes, I hadn't thought about Gabriel. I couldn't let that happen again.

  Chapter Eleven

  Carlos

  The decision had officially been made. I was going all in. I wouldn't lie to myself. My desire was the driving force, but I'd made up my mind right about the time Gabriel curled up to me to read him a story and he'd asked her to lie next to him. At that moment, the demons settled. I had no clue how she’d done that, how they’d both done that. I’d never believed I’d experience that sensation either, but suddenly, there was calm within my soul. I had no idea if it would stay, but I wanted more of it.

  The only shoes Holly had walked in since she'd had her son were the ones labeled mother. I admired the way she'd set aside her own needs for the sake of Gabriel. But the way she reacted to me—had she not been touched in a long time?

  I'd teased, given her only a taste of what she could have. I wanted her touching herself tonight, crazed with desire for me to the point where she wouldn't deny herself or me what she needed. I’d wanted to ignite the fire that had been dormant inside her, and with that brush of my lips against hers, I'd set off an explosion, one that shook me to my core.

  Jumping in the shower, I turned the water to scalding. I craved Holly more than I’d ever wanted anything. If I was going to have her, I had to be clean. She deserved a man who wasn't tainted by all the things I had done. But no matter how I scrubbed, I'd never be rid of the sins of my past. It always came back to that. Always.

  I shut off the water and shoved the glass door of the shower wide open. Steam was thick in the air. Wiping the mirror, I stared into the eyes looking back at me.

  They were his. I hated that . . . but the evil that he was, those eyes looked through me to my very soul. I blinked twice, clearing my head, clearing my vision, but the haze that infiltrated my mind was as thick as the condensation settling on the bathroom mirror.

  You think you can have a woman like her? It was my father's voice, taunting me like always, like before, and I could not get it to stop.

  “Yes,” I gritted out.

  You'll turn her son into you. Have you seen the way he looks at you? In no time, you'll have him following in your footsteps. Following in mine.

  I tucked the towel around my waist, still soaking wet all over, and retrieved my gun from under the mattress. The motherfucker. He was dead. I'd killed him myself, but I was going to do it again. And again. And again until he was gone for good and the evil of him left my mind.

  When I returned to the bathroom, the fucker was still in the mirror with that evil glint in his eyes. He appeared younger, stronger, and smug. My head was foggy, confused and feeling drained, and I just wanted him gone for good.

  He'll be a killer. Like you.

  “Shut up,” I shouted, raising the gun, aiming at his forehead. No more. No more of his bullshit. This was it.

  He laughed. You're just like me, son. Are you sure it's a good idea being around your sister? She's a beautiful woman now. You have my instincts and will want to fuck her too.

  “Shut. The fuck. Up.” I couldn’t stand it. It was time . . .

  My finger twitched on the trigger. I was going to blow his head off.

  “Carlos!” Camila? She was in the doorway. Oh, God—I have to get her away from him.

  “Run, Camila. I won't let him touch you,” I said, keeping my gaze glued to the monster in the mirror. In my peripheral vision, I saw she hadn't moved. What is she waiting for?

  “What the hell?” I jerked my head and saw Stone behind Camila with his eyes trained on me.

  “I won't let him touch her,” I promised. My eyes blazed. My heart rate was through the roof, and my skin felt clammy. I was going to go out of my mind if I didn’t put an end to him.

  “Carlos, put the gun down please.” Her soft voice cut through some of the fog in my brain. She was upset, worried.

  “I thought he was gone.” I blinked at her in confusion. “I'll make sure this time.” She broke free of Stone and took slow, confident steps toward me. “Don't get near him.”

  Camila was beside me. She touched my arm, applying pre
ssure, but it wasn't enough to get me to lower the weapon. “He's not here, Carlos.”

  I looked back and forth between her and the mirror. He was still watching us, though somewhere in the back of my mind I knew this couldn’t be true. But I was taking no chances, and I stepped in front of her so my father couldn't see her. I wouldn't let him look at her, violate her with his eyes. Never again.

  “You're safe. He's not here,” she repeated.

  “He's right there.” I pointed at the mirror with the gun, and her eyes filled with sympathy.

  “Put the gun down. Please.”

  “He'll try to—”

  She shook her head, cutting me off. She didn’t see him, and that worried me. Was I going crazy? “I'm safe,” she assured me. “You saved me.” Her eyes were clear and bright. “Put it down.”

  Hesitantly, I placed the weapon on the counter. The moment I did, her hand was in mine, leading me out of the bathroom. I followed in a daze, looking over my shoulder to make sure he didn't follow. I couldn't see him anymore, but the knot in my chest didn’t release.

  Camila sat me on the bed and took my cheeks in her hands, her eyes filled with tears.

  “Don't cry,” I pleaded. “I thought—” I didn’t know what I thought. My mind was clearing now from the haze. Reality was approaching my brain as the love from my sister enveloped me.

  “Shh.” She climbed beside me and pressed my head until it was resting in her lap. Gabriel's Lego man stood on the nightstand. I reached for it and held it tightly. She stroked my hair like Mama used to do. I closed my eyes, and some form of peace wound its way through me. The beast in the bathroom had tried to squeeze the life out of it with an iron-tight grip, but my sister was stronger. “You're safe too,” she whispered. “He can't hurt us anymore.”

  If that were true, why wouldn't he leave us alone?

  Because neither of you knows how to exist without me.

  My father's voice in my head was the last thing I heard before I succumbed to the soothing rhythm of my sister's touch, anchoring me to the light when the darkness was clawing for my soul. Thank God for Camila.

  Chapter Twelve

  Holly

  “Mr. Carter.”

  The name came out more like a croak. Easton paused when he was almost to the door of the office he and Miss Jacobs shared. From the hallway, I found Drew’s hard gaze on me. Fear spiked my heart rate. I looked at Easton and back at Drew, who was out of his brother’s line of sight. He made a throat slashing motion.

  “It can wait.” My hands trembled. I leaned against the desk for support, certain my legs might fail me at any second.

  Concern shadowed Easton’s face. He cast a glance toward the door. “You sure?”

  “Yes,” I said with a shaky voice as I prayed he’d just let it go.

  He watched me for a moment, then nodded once and vanished from the office. I sagged against the desk as Drew fell in step with his brother. The farther he was away from me, the better.

  The guilt that wouldn’t leave me throbbed. This was the opportunity I’d been looking for to come clean about what I knew about Mulaney and the eldest Mr. Carter, Easton’s father. There was no affair. It was wrong of me to lead Easton to believe otherwise.

  Just when I tried to do the right thing, there was Drew again, pulling on the puppet strings he had tied around me. I was at his mercy, and that meant doing whatever he wanted, even if whatever included misleading people I respected.

  I fiddled with the cross around my neck. When will this stop? I knew the answer to the ridiculous question before I even thought it. Not until Drew Carter disappeared from my life for good.

  The crazy thing was I’d been so eager to take up Miss Jacobs on her offer to move to New York mostly because of him. I should’ve realized all the executives would be coming to the new office, yet somehow, I’d assumed Drew would stay in Houston.

  Fairy tales. I’d spun them in my head all my life to make reality go away. As a grown woman, the habit was one of my worst.

  I turned and straightened some of the papers on the desk, unable to remember what I was doing before the moment I’d almost been caught doing the exact opposite of what Drew wanted.

  “Have you forgotten what I can do to you?”

  I jumped at the sinister voice in my ear. The jackhammering of my heart amped up to max speed.

  “No.” The word came out weak. Scared. Two things I constantly felt.

  “I don’t know what you’re playing at, sugar, but there are consequences for bad behavior.”

  Not yours.

  But I didn’t say that. Instead, I nodded, reminding myself that acting like a pushover didn’t make me weak. It meant I survived.

  “Don’t get cute.” The warning was followed by a look that felt like his hands around my neck, choking me.

  I nodded again, afraid if I tried to speak, the wrong words might come out. When it came to Drew, there was no right thing to say.

  He stared at me for what felt like the longest moment of my life. His expression had grown more vacant over the years. Colder. Angrier. The only time there seemed to be a human being in there was when he was around his mother, though I rarely saw them together, so I wasn’t sure how true that was anymore.

  The longer those hollow eyes were on me, the harder it became to breathe. My legs were noodles. My arms were like lead.

  When he saw he’d scared me to his satisfaction, a slow, sinister smile spread across his face. “Yeah. I think we’re clear.”

  Then the hard expression was back, and my body seized with fear. He pivoted and marched from the office, yet I didn’t move for what felt like a good five minutes.

  I smoothed my skirt and tried to stand without the support of the desk.

  You can do this.

  I had to. Not only could I not give up this job, but I wouldn’t. I loved it. Mulaney was tough but treated me with respect, and I’d never be able to repay what she’d done for Gabriel and me. I looked forward to coming to work even though it was hard. In all the time Drew had been a problem that wouldn’t go away, he’d never told me to quit. How long would it be before he did so just because he could? How long before my guilt would overshadow my thankfulness?

  Chapter Thirteen

  Carlos

  “Carlos.”

  Muriella was sitting on a barstool in the kitchen when I entered the apartment after getting some fresh air on the rooftop. She was alone, and the way she spoke my name had me wanting to breeze past and make some excuses about being tired. But I hadn't come to New York to avoid my sister. Good or bad, I was here to spend time with her. I crossed the room and bent to kiss her forehead. In just a few days, I'd learned she was okay with my affections, which was a relief. In actuality, she did well with the people she was comfortable with, able to hug and touch them in ways I'd have never expected. Her strength and resilience were incredible.

  “You want to talk,” I said. I did too. I didn’t want her thinking she had invited a crazy person to her house.

  “And you're willing?” she asked.

  “Yes.” Casually, I leaned against the edge of the stone counter and schooled my expression into one of openness.

  “This was a lot easier than I expected.” She eyed me suspiciously, and I shrugged.

  “The way I see it, we can get it over with now, or you'll badger it out of me. Either way, you win.” I smiled to soften the sting of my words. They weren't meant to cut. She would win because I'd do anything to make her happy, even at the expense of my own happiness.

  “Come with me,” Muriella said, offering her hand after she jumped off the stool. She positioned me in front of the mirror hanging above a deep walnut console table just inside the front door. I avoided looking in it.

  She turned my face toward the reflecting glass. I tensed, looking away.

  “Muriella . . .” I said warily, trying to shake loose of her grip on my cheeks.

  “Look in the mirror, Carlos,” she commanded. “I'm right here with you.”<
br />
  I peeled my lids open, automatically looking at her instead of my reflection. I knew it was me in the mirror. But every time I looked, I saw him.

  “You are not him. You are a man of honor.”

  “How can you say that? Honor?” I asked incredulously. “You have no idea about the things I've done.”

  “I don't, but I know what you've done for me, and that's all that matters. You freed us. He's dead. We are both safe because of you.”

  “Then why is he haunting me?” I begged her to give me answers I wasn't sure existed.

  “Because he was a demon, but if we try hard enough, we can change that,” she insisted. “I still struggle. I can't sleep with the lights off, but every day I get closer to being completely out from under him. Knowing he's dead is a tremendous burden lifted from my soul. I only wished I'd done it so you didn't have to live with killing him.”

  “I've been waiting years to do it. I did it for you, but I also did it for the greater good. It wasn't just our lives he destroyed, though you bore the worst of it. But killing him? I'd do it again every day for the rest of my life if I had the chance. I have zero regrets about that.”

  She stepped in front of me, taking my face in her hands. “See what I see.”

  I stared at my reflection, finally looking that man in the eyes after years of avoiding it. The pain in them was palpable, as if anyone looking into them could feel the weight of what the man was carrying.

  “He killed for sport. He raped because he could. He manipulated because he wanted power. The only time I ever saw regret was when the box came with Mama in it.” She flinched in pain. We'd both been there when it arrived. Nausea swamped me. I'd seen plenty of chopped up bodies since then, and it hadn't fazed me, but seeing my mother in pieces was still as vivid as the day it had happened. I’d vomited then, and I felt it rising up my throat now.

 

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