Lost Without You (The Lost Series Book 2)

by Tracie Douglas

“There are no buts, Tate, not this time.” I stand, feeling the white heat of my anger flowing through my veins. “There’s no excuse for what you did. There is no talking your way out of it. How the fuck did you even get out of jail?”

  “I turned state witness and rolled on my pimp.”

  “Would you believe me if I told you I didn’t think it was possible for you to get any stupider? Clearly, I was wrong. Do you realize the danger you put my kids in with your genius idea?”

  “They’re my kids, too—”

  “No, they’re MINE!” I shout, cutting her off. It takes everything in me to stay on my side of the desk. The last of my patience wavers quickly. “You lost them the moment you started this shit. Not only did you put them in danger with your new lifestyle, but now you’ve rolled your dealer? Do you realize what you’ve done? You’ve painted a fucking target on not only your back but theirs as well. Men like Mario Galecki don’t let shit like this happen to them. They retaliate any way they can and they don’t care who they have to hurt to do it. You think you’re smart getting yourself a get-out-of-jail-free card, but you’re not. Jesus, Tate, I didn’t think you could fuck this up anymore, but this…fuck, it’s beyond understanding.”

  “I didn’t know…” she stutters, tears streaming down her face.

  “And why would you?” I’m ready to drive it home, ignoring the sobs tearing from her chest and the way she tries to hide her face from me with her hands.

  I can’t. The sake of my children depends on me to be able to protect them, and I will do it, even if it means I have to protect them from their own mother. If Tatum ever wakes up and decides to be a real mother to our children, then I need to say it all. I need to put it out there and not give one damn about how it makes her feel. “You are the most selfish and dangerous woman I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “I’m…sorry.”

  “You don’t know the meaning of the word.”

  “I want to get help. Missy said I could get help. Please, I don’t have anyone else to turn to.”

  “When the fuck did you talk to Missy?”

  “Three days ago. I went in to get some clean needles, but she…”

  “She what?”

  “She made me realize my kids are worth more than my next fix, and that’s why I’m here.” She takes a step forward, raising her voice an octave, finally showing some Tatum passion. “I don’t want to be like this anymore.”

  “Why are they suddenly so important to you now? Where was your concern for them before all of this, when they were living in that shithole you call home?”

  “Because Missy told me they don’t think I love them. They think I’ve abandoned them.”

  “Can you blame them? Put yourself in their shoes.”

  “I want my children.”

  “More than you want the drugs?”

  “Yes, more than I want the drugs.” She pauses, taking a moment to compose herself. “Will you help me?”

  My head is spinning. The urge to kick Tatum out of my building is stronger than ever, knowing my children feel abandoned and unwanted by her. I hate this woman standing in front of me, justifiable after recent events, but for the sake of my children, helping her benefits them. Tatum might not be the best mother in the world, but she is their mother, and if she wants to finally do right by them, how can I deny them their chance at having their mother?

  “Fine, but there will be a few conditions.”

  “Okay,” she says with hope slipping into her voice.

  “First, I will find you somewhere to go and I’ll even help pay for it, but I want you near your mother.” The hope she was feeling moment ago disintegrates from her body with my first condition. Tatum’s relationship with her mother isn’t very good, and not for the reasons a person would think. Marna is in fact one of my favorite people in the world. She’s an opinionated straight talker, and she’s never approved of Tatum’s behavior. She was livid with her daughter the day I filed for divorce and knew the only reason it happened was because I finally reached my limit of bullshit. She blamed her daughter for losing me, and when she found out what the last straw was, Marna cut all ties with her daughter for months. Sending Tatum back east to be near her during this time insures me of two things. The first being I won’t have to worry about checking in on her and making sure she’s sticking to the program. Marna will ride her daughter’s ass to get well and become the woman she needs to be for Layla and Oliver. The other is, because I want her as far away from the kids as possible, which brings me to my next condition. “The second condition is communication with Layla and Oliver. You will not contact them or try to contact them while you’re there. Nor will you contact them after the program until we’ve sat down in front of a judge to figure shit out. If you stick to the program and get your life together, I’m willing to work something out with you regarding visitation, but I will never allow them to live under your roof again.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Dead serious. You’ve poisoned their lives enough with this shit; spare them from more. If you’re serious about getting help, then you should be focusing on that.”

  “They’ll think I’ve really abandoned them, then.”

  “From what you’ve said Missy shared with you, they already feel that way, so it makes no difference.”

  “What will you tell them?” she asks quietly.

  “The truth. You’ve gone away to get help,” I say without looking at her. “The final condition is you’ll leave tonight.”

  She lifts her head suddenly, with wide eyes and surprise. “You don’t think I’m serious?”

  “No, I don’t think you are. If you are, you’ll go right now.”

  “How will I get there?”

  To answer her question, I pick up the interoffice phone and call Annabelle’s desk. “Anna, please call Jeff and have him book the first flight to Savannah. Then I want you to call Bear and have him set up an appointment with a rehab facility for Tatum Cole. Tell him I need him to pick her up here at the office and for him to stay with her until she’s boarded the plane and it’s in the air.”

  “I’m on it,” she says, and I hear the surprise in her voice. For a moment, my decision to help the woman I vowed to hate years ago surprises even me.

  Turning my attention back to Tatum, I hang up the phone and prepare to have her fight me on this. If she ever wants to be a part of our children’s lives again, these are the terms, and she knows I’m not budging on them. She doesn’t fight me. Instead, she sits down in the chair across from me with her shoulders slumped forward in defeat.

  The next call I’m going to make isn’t one I know she’s going to be happy about, but there is no one else I trust to make sure she checks into the rehab facility and stays put. My next call is going to be to Marna. It’s time she knows what her daughter’s been up to.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Grateful

  Kingston

  I don’t know if I should be mad at Missy or just grateful for keeping my children a priority in her life. After Bear picked Tatum up this evening, all I could think about doing was kissing the woman I love senseless.

  Missy called Annabelle to come sit with the kids until I got home from work. She was called into work this morning for the overnight shift, but glancing down at my watch, she wasn’t due in for another hour or two. Missy had dinner with Layla and Oliver before heading back to her house.

  The last time I knocked on her door, I did it with the intent of ravishing her sweet body, and while I intend to do the same thing this time, a discussion regarding her interaction with Tatum needs to happen first. Which brings me back to my initial conundrum, to be mad or grateful?

  I don’t bother knocking; there’s no sense in it, not when I have the spare key. After punching the key code into her security panel, I turn around to find her wide-eyed and barefoot, with another large bag in hand. A sight I like seeing, because it means more of her stuff at my house.
/>   “Kingston, what—”

  “You weren’t home. I wanted to see you before you start your shift,” I cut her off and take a step toward her. She takes a step back, throwing her arms out in front of her, trying to ward me off.

  “Is everything okay?” she asks, eyeing me carefully. I notice what she’s wearing for the first time, a large terrycloth towel. “I was about to take a soak in the tub. Would you like to join me?”

  I lift an eyebrow, contemplating her offer.

  “First, I need to talk to you about something.” She frowns up at me, and I see the wheels turning behind her eyes. She’s trying to figure out if this is going to be a good talk or a bad talk. “Tatum came into see me today.”

  I watch her eyes grow large, and she sucks in a breath. Yes, she knows why I’m here and why I’ve brought up my ex-wife.

  “She did?” Her voice squeaks a little. She sounds nervous, which isn’t something that happens often with this woman.

  “Yes, she did.”

  “One a scale of one to ten, ten being completely livid, how pissed off are you at me?”

  “I’m not mad.” And just like that my earlier conundrum is solved. No, I’m not mad. I’m grateful. Despite all the shit we’ve been through lately, Missy’s proven she always keeps my children’s best interest at heart, even when it comes to their fucked-up mother.

  “Are you sure? Because you’re acting kind of pissed.”

  “I’m not pissed at you,” I say, uncrossing my arms and moving a step closer to her. “I’m pissed at Tatum. I swear the woman was put on this planet to make my life a living hell.”

  “What happened?”

  “She asked for help.”

  “She did?”

  “Apparently, she hasn’t used in a few days and has been having a difficult time of continuing to do so. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about this, would you?”

  “Um…”

  “Were you planning on telling me you talked to her?”

  “She did tell you, then.” She sighs softly, hanging her head and sagging her shoulders a bit. “I wasn’t sure if anything I said worked.”

  “What did you say?”

  She looks up at me

  “The truth. Where is she?”

  “Currently, she’s on a flight to Savannah. Her mother’s going to make sure she checks into the rehab facility Bear reserved for her and I paid for.” I watch as the worry settles in her eyes. “I wasn’t going to help her; in fact, I was ready to kick her ass out of my building, but then she told me you said something to her the other day.”

  “She came in for clean needles.”

  “Yes, that’s what she told me. Said you told her the kids think she abandoned them. Is that true?”

  “Don’t get mad, but the other night, when Oliver asked me to tuck him in, we had a little talk. He asked if I was going to be his new mother because the mother he had didn’t want him and his sister anymore. I told him it wasn’t true and his mother needed to get some help to straighten her life out. He seemed to believe me and hasn’t said anything to me since. I didn’t tell you, because I hoped what I said helped him.” She spins on her heel and walks away. I follow her up the stairs and into her bedroom, listening to her words and hearing the genuine love in them. “When I saw Tatum, I couldn’t help myself. Oliver’s confession played on a loop in my mind, and I had to say something. I couldn’t let her keep walking through life without knowing what she was putting her children through.”

  She stops in front of a large bubble-filled tub and turns back to face me. Ready for my reaction.

  “I’m not mad at you.”

  “Then what are you?”

  “Thankful. Happy. In complete awe of you.” I reach for her, wrapping my arms around her.

  “Um, okay.”

  “I don’t know what you said to her, but you got through. She told me she hadn’t had a fix in three days, and there was no way she could have been lying, not with the way her body was shaking and sweating.”

  “Good. For Layla and Oliver, that’s good.” And it is.

  She leans forward, resting her forehead on my chest. I feel all the tension she’s been holding slip from her body as her hands find the skin under my shirt. My hands run down the length of her body, and everything we were talking about leaves my brain. Her scent and her softness cloud any coherent thought. All I can think about is the way she feels in my arms.

  Fuck, am I ever going to be able to get enough of her?

  “How long do you have before your shift starts?”

  “Not long,” she whispers, teasing her lips along my neck. There’s a neediness to her voice, and I know she’s feeling what I’m feeling right now. My cock twitches at the thought. “Just enough time for you to leave your mark and something to get me through my shift.”

  With a growl, my hands cup her face and our lips crash together. I reach for the tie at her waist, releasing it and opening it to find bare skin. She’s naked underneath.

  “Fuck, Queenie, you’ve been standing here naked underneath that robe the whole time?”

  She giggles and loops her hands around my neck. I eye the bubbles and pull her arms down, moving the robe down past her shoulders. It hits the ground with a soft whoosh.

  “Are you going to join me?”

  I smile, reaching for my shirt and kicking my boots off at the same time. Damn straight, I’m going to join her, and afterwards I plan on taking her hard and fast. Just the way she likes.

  Missy

  I spot David Beaumont walking my direction. We’ve had an influx of patients today, which is odd for a Wednesday, so I’m exhausted, and I really don’t want to deal with his shit today. I force a smile on my face, trying desperately to find an inner calmness.

  “Missy, can I speak with you a moment?” he asks, stopping in front of my station.

  “Sure, what’s up?”

  “Um, in private?” He looks around us and motions to the supply closet.

  “Doctor, I don’t understand?”

  “Please, just humor me?” He gives me his half-smile, the one he uses when he’s trying to be charming. I blow out a breath and stand, following him to the room. He steps inside, but I go no further than the doorway. There’s no way I’m going to be alone with him. “Are you going to coming inside?”

  “Right here is just fine.” I throw a look over my shoulder, and Lana catches my gaze. She nods, moving closer but remaining out of sight. She’ll bail me out if I need her to. “No one’s coming this way yet.”

  He looks at me, his smile even bigger, and steps closer. He takes my hand in his, grasping it lightly. I frown at him, trying to pull away, but he tightens his hold on me.

  “Missy, please have dinner with me Friday night.”

  I shake my head, rolling my eyes at his nerve.

  “Dr. Beaumont, we’ve been through this once already and I thought I made myself clear on the matter.” I yank my hand from his and take a step back, out into the hallway.

  “I heard what you said, but I had hoped you would change your mind with some time.” He sounds cocky, arrogant even. “I know it’s kind of a cliché, the doctor and the nurse thing, but I’m willing to look past it if you are.”

  “You really are something else, you know that?” I tell him, crossing my arms. He smirks at me. Yep, he’s all kinds of arrogant. “I don’t mean that in a nice way, either.”

  His face falls and he steps back. I place my hands on my hip and narrow my gaze on him.

  “I don’t date people I work with, and even if I did, you aren’t my type.” He nods and his blue eyes are clouded with disappointment. “Please refrain from putting us in this position again, Dr. Beaumont.”

  I spin to find at least a dozen set of eyes on me. Thankfully, Cara steps forward, pulling me away from the disastrous scene. I walk away with my head held high and ignore the daggered looks a few of the nurses are shooting at me. There is nothing about that man I find appealing. They can have him for all I care.r />
  Chapter Thirty-Two

  His Payment

  Anonymous

  “Please, you don’t have to do this,” he begs, but I’ve gone too far.

  I can tell by the way his blood drips freely from his body.

  Not that I feel bad.

  He deserves it.

  He touched my angel.

  I can’t help myself.

  Once I began,

  I couldn’t stop.

  There’s something about the way he screams out in pain with

  each blow,

  each cut,

  each burn,

  it calls to me.

  Watching the large man in front of me flinch away with every movement I make

  intoxicates me.

  “I won’t tell anyone, I promise.” The words are barely recognizable as the swelling in his face grows, making muscle movement difficult.

  His words mean nothing to me.

  He isn’t walking out of here to tell anyone anything.

  He’ll never walk again.

  He’ll never talk again.

  He’ll never breathe again.

  He touched my angel, and for that he must pay.

  He’ll pay with his life.

  Tomorrow is a new day.

  Tomorrow, my plans begin, and by the time the sun sets,

  she will finally be mine.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  After School Antics

  Missy

  The bell sounds seconds before the first wave of elementary students exit the old brick building. I’m standing in my usual spot, under the large oak tree, waiting to see Layla and Ollie’s smiling faces. We’ve easily fallen into a comfortable routine and they’ve adjusted very well to their new life. I’ve spent every second I can with them, and when I’m not with them, I find myself thinking of them. They’ve brought happiness into my life, the kind I never thought I’d be able to have.

  I watch the second wave of children come out, shifting on my feet anxiously. Usually, they’re mixed in with the second wave of students, but I don’t see them. It isn’t until after the third and final wave of students that I start to worry. Trying to stay calm, I look around me, taking in all the faces of the remaining children, but my heart jumps into my throat.