by T. K. Leigh
“Like I said, I’ve had a change in circumstance. My ex…” I pause, summoning the willpower to continue with this act, even though the words feel like knives slashing at my skin, scarring, scabbing, torturing. “She’s back in the area and asked for shared custody. Turns out, my youngest isn’t even mine.”
She tilts her head to the side, her eyebrows raised. “She isn’t?” Her tone lacks the surprise it should hold when learning something like that. It’s more sanctimonious, more smug.
“I figure why should I have to raise a child who isn’t even mine? Her mother can deal with that. She thought her request for custody would hurt me. Well, she was wrong.” I feign a relieved smile, my shoulders relaxing. “I can finally have a life again. You have no idea how freeing it is. And I want this new life to start with you.” I lean closer, her breath dancing with mine. I have to ward off my gut instinct to grimace at the warmth of her.
“Is that really what you want?”
“Do you think I’d be here if it wasn’t?” The corners of my mouth turn up. “You know how much I hate basketball.”
“That I do,” she murmurs as she grips the back of my head, forcing my lips to hers.
I inhale a sharp breath, instinct kicking in, my body wanting to tear away from her. But there’s a reason I’m doing this. This is a sacrifice I need to make to get to the truth, to persuade Skylar to tell me that truth.
Moaning, I fist my hand in her hair, plunging my tongue into her mouth, convincing her I’m into her when I want nothing more than to scald my skin and wash my mouth out with the strongest chemical known to man.
“God, it feels good to be doing this again,” I murmur before covering her mouth once more, kissing her with more passion and hunger. She arches into me, rubbing her body against mine. I clutch her hips, lifting her up as I press her against the wall. She wraps her legs around my waist, thrusting against me. “I’ve never felt so damn free, like the chains that have shackled me to a life I never wanted have been severed.”
I nip at her neck, my teeth grazing the skin. She tightens her hold on me, throwing her head back, moaning, circling, driving. I know what she likes, what sets her off, what makes her forget where she is, who she is, the secrets she’s hiding. And that sweet spot behind her ear drives her absolutely crazy. With prurient motions, I trail a line along her neck toward her earlobe, taking it between my teeth, tugging.
“Oh, Drew.” Her voice is breathy as she claws and scratches at me, desperate for me to pull her skirt down and fuck her right here with no regard as to who could walk in on us. “I knew it would work. I just knew it. No man would want to be stuck raising kids. Once I talked Carla into filing for custody, I knew you’d finally be free and we could be together.”
It takes every ounce of restraint I possess not to slam her head into the wall.
“You did this?” I say, my tone more intrigued than accusatory. At least, that’s how I hope it comes off as I continue kissing her. She’s so lost in her own desire she doesn’t even realize my dick’s as soft as the Pillsbury Doughboy.
“I didn’t think it would work, but figured I’d give it a shot, especially when I overheard your conversation that day at the college. She didn’t want to agree, said you were a good father, but she changed her mind. Aren’t you glad?” Her nails dig into my back as I clamp my teeth onto her neck. She yelps, her body stiffening. Then she moans, thinking I bit her out of wanton desire, not because I want to hurt her just like her actions have hurt me. “Now we can be together with nothing standing in our way. Nothing will ever be in our way again, Andrew. I’ll make sure of that. I’ll always make sure of that.”
I bury my anger, masking it in lust as I grip her hips tighter, grate my teeth against her skin even harsher, my voice becoming a growl as I allow her to keep thrusting against me.
“So you mean to tell me you did all this for me? Helped my ex file for custody so we could finally be together?”
“I told you I’d do anything for you.” Her pants become louder, her skin getting warmer. I know her body well enough to tell she’s close to coming undone from the friction alone. “That I’d do whatever it took to have you. Nothing is out of bounds when it comes to you, Andrew. Nothing.”
“What you did for me…” I quickly pull back, forcing her legs to loosen their grip around me, my eyes hardening, my lips turning into a sneer. “Thank you, Skylar.” I smirk, stepping away, retrieving my cell from my pocket. After ending the recording, I text it to Daniel so there’s an extra copy.
“Wha—” She’s bewildered, confused, her lips turning into a frown.
I hold up my cell. “You’ve just given me all the evidence I need to show the judge why my ex shouldn’t be allowed to come near my kids.” I lean into her, all the animosity and distaste I’ve been forced to hide the past several minutes set free. “Did you honestly think I’d be grateful for what you did? This is a level of fucked up I didn’t think anyone was capable of.”
She stares at me for several protracted moments, stunned, before her eyes turn fiery.
“What choice did I have?” she screeches. “Those girls are the reason you refused to get serious with me. I figured this would be a win-win for both of us. She’d get to spend time with those kids…God knows why she’d want that…and I’d get you all to myself.”
I shake my head, my throat burning, my skin crawling. Has Skylar always been this crazy? She’s young. Maybe I mistook some of her craziness for immaturity. But to be so devious and vindictive as to help my ex get custody on the slight chance I’d want to be with her? I wanted to believe Daniel was just running his mouth when he inferred she’d been hooking up with her step-brother. Now I think she’s deranged enough to do something like that.
“If you thought the only reason I didn’t want to be with you was because of those girls, you’re more out of touch with reality than I thought. The reason I didn’t want to be with you is because I felt nothing for you. You were just a means to an end. Nothing more. I could never fall for someone who treats people, treats children, like they don’t matter.” The more I speak, the angrier I become, my shoulders hunched, the vein in my neck throbbing. “So you’d better watch your fucking back. If I ever see you come within a mile of those kids, you’ll wish you never thought to try to take the two most important people in my life from me. You may think you’re hot shit now, but I will ruin your career. Even a strip club won’t touch you with a ten-foot pole.”
Fire in my eyes, I spin around, striding down the long corridors and back onto the court. When I emerge, the dance squad is already on the floor doing their halftime routine. I hope Skylar gets fired for missing it.
Daniel meets my gaze and jumps up as I storm along the side of the court toward him.
“Ask Winters for more time before I make my decision. Carla’s trying to take my girls from me. I won’t let her take my dream job from me, too.”
“You got it.” He follows as I rush out of the arena, his chauffeur driving up almost the instant we emerge. We both remain silent during the short drive back to his building. Once we arrive, I give him my thanks, then hurry to the parking garage to grab my car.
The entire drive out to Revere Beach, I pray Carla hasn’t taken Brooklyn from me, too.
Chapter 19
Brooklyn
A wide grin plastered on my face, I push the folders scattered all over my desk into a pile, then shove them into the cabinets, not caring about the lack of organization. Normally, I’d take my time to put each and every file exactly where they’re supposed to go, but not tonight, not with the electricity filling me in anticipation of seeing Drew.
Grabbing my bag, I head down the corridor with a spring in my step, about to make my escape when someone calls my name. “Brooklyn! Hold on a second.”
I whirl around to see Michelle scurrying after me. “What’s going on?” I furrow my brows in concern.
“I won’t keep you, since it looks like you’re on your way somewhere important.” She waggle
s her eyebrows. “Like a booty call with Wes.”
Heat washes over my face as I swallow down my unease at the mention of him. “Is something wrong?”
Her expression falls. “I just got off the phone with the Attorney General’s office.” She straightens her posture, brushing her dark locks behind her ear, her eyes serious. “Apparently, Zachary Plummer’s brother, Marcus, tried to get through security to speak with AAG Stone about the disposition of the TPR from a week ago, wanting to know where Zachary’s kids ended up.”
“Is she okay?”
“Yes. He wasn’t able to get through and walked away when they suggested he speak to Zachary’s attorney.”
I bite my lower lip, something about this not adding up. “You’d think with the amount of neglect those kids endured, Zachary would have been thrilled when the judge signed the TPR. Not to mention, he’s currently serving a twenty-year sentence.”
“Those brothers only saw dollar signs whenever they looked at those kids. Sick bastards. The DA is still working on building a criminal case against Marcus for trafficking, but Zachary refused to implicate him, so right now, it’s only circumstantial. Nothing sufficient for even an arrest warrant.”
I nod, my stomach churning at what those kids’ lives would be like had DCF not intervened. It doesn’t matter how long I’ve been doing this. Seeing kids abused and neglected never gets any easier.
“Anyway, I guess I just wanted to warn you to keep your eyes peeled. If he’s going after Stone, he may try to track you down, too.”
“Thanks, Michelle. I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about and will all blow over. Like it always does.” Any other day, I may have taken her warning a little more seriously, but nothing can dampen my current mood, not when I’m minutes away from seeing Drew in a spot that means so much to both of us.
She pulls her lips together into a tight line. “Probably, but still. Be careful.”
“I will.” I give her a reassuring smile, then glance at the glass doors leading to the parking lot.
“Well, I won’t keep you from your prior engagement any longer.” She gives me an exaggerated wink. “And I expect a full report on all the steaminess tomorrow.”
I laugh, unable to reel in my smile. “You should know by now, Michelle.”
“What’s that?”
“I never kiss and tell.” Especially considering my date is with a man other than my fiancé.
With a grin, I spin from her, rushing out of the building and through the parking lot, tuning out everything except the exhilaration of being in Drew’s arms, knowing I’m mere minutes from experiencing that again.
Once I’m behind the wheel of my car, I crank the engine and head toward Revere Beach. While it’s not the best in the state, it’s the one closest to where we grew up. It has all the essentials…sand, ocean, a snack bar. Better yet, it’s home to thousands of memories of my younger years. Of squealing with joy when I felt that first wave splash over my legs as a child. Of lounging in the sun with my best friend as we talked about everything and nothing at the same time. Of being tossed into the ocean by Drew time and time again. These memories make this place special, and I get the feeling they must hold the same importance for Drew.
I pull into the beach lot, step out of my car, then kick off my heels. It’s not dark yet, but the sun no longer illuminates the sky, the faint hint of the half-moon appearing. Now that I’m close to the shore, there’s more of a breeze than was noticeable inland. Still, I make no move to secure my hair, allowing it to blow around my face instead.
The sand is warm against my feet as I walk toward what became our spot during our last summer together. With every step, I dig my toes in a little more, something about the feel of the grains against my skin pacifying me.
Approaching the ledge separating the beach from the street, I hoist myself onto it, just as I did so many times during my youth. Just as I did the day before Drew went off to college. I remember sitting with him in this exact spot, neither one of us saying a word. In that moment, I could tell it was as difficult for him to leave me as it was for me to say goodbye to him. In retrospect, maybe it was a blessing in disguise he left without saying goodbye. Maybe he did it because he was struggling with leaving me as much as I was.
As I sit watching planes prepare to land at Logan Airport off in the distance, I’m on edge. My unease only increases with the passing of time. I glance at my watch. 7:15. I tell myself Drew’s probably running a little late, that he’s stuck in one of his meetings or got caught in game-day traffic trying to get out of the city, which I know from experience can be horrendous.
For the next thirty minutes, I come up with excuse after excuse to explain why he’s not here, why he hasn’t returned any of my texts or calls. A tiny voice reminds me I did the same thing the morning he left for college, but I silence it. I’m no longer that same girl. And he’s not the same guy, either. He wouldn’t ask me to meet him here and not show up. Would he?
Withdrawing my phone from my purse, I’m about to call Molly to see if she’s heard from him when a chill runs through me. I glance at the parking lot behind me, finding it empty of people, a dozen cars scattered among the numerous spaces. Michelle’s warning nags at me. I’m probably just being paranoid. Regardless, it’s not the smartest idea to be sitting alone on the beach now that darkness shrouds the shoreline. It’s not exactly the safest part of the city.
Jumping off the ledge, I hurry across the sand toward the parking lot, brushing the granules off my feet before sliding my heels back on. A loud cheer startles me and I look toward the noise, spying a sports bar a few blocks away. The place is brightly lit, several people congregated outside, smoking. Thinking it’s probably safer to wait in there than in my darkened car in a parking lot, I continue in its direction.
When I step into the crowded bar, I feel out of place. Locals sporting Celtics jerseys fill the room, their eyes glued to one of the many large-screen televisions hanging overhead or mounted to the walls, each one tuned into the basketball game. Scanning the area, I find a vacant stool toward the end of the bar and head toward it.
Once I’m settled, a bartender approaches, placing a cardboard coaster in front of me. “What can I get you?”
“Scotch. Neat.”
“You got it.”
He turns, grabbing a bottle and pouring the amber liquor into a tumbler. He pushes the glass toward me and smiles. “Cheers.”
I place enough cash on the bar to cover the drink and a decent tip, then take a sip, my throat and stomach burning as the alcohol makes its way through me.
“Celtics fan?” a deep voice asks as I place the glass back on the bar.
“No. Just waiting for a friend who’s running late,” I say, stealing a glance at the man by my side. I hadn’t noticed him when I walked in, only caring about finding an empty seat. He looks as out of place as me, his tie loose, copper hair disheveled. He’s probably in his early forties, his features distinguished enough to make it appear like he has life experience, but not so withered as to make it seem like he’s close to retirement age. “Figured it was safer waiting in here than out on the beach.”
My phone buzzes. I quickly retrieve it from my purse, my fingers frantic as I hope for a message from Drew. When it’s just a work email coming through, my heart deflates, but I try not to let it show, plastering on a smile.
“How about you? Are you a Celtics fan…?” I lift my brows.
“Tony,” he answers, holding out his hand.
I grab it. “Brooklyn.”
He nods, then releases his hold on me, returning his attention to the game. “I suppose you could say I’m a fan.” He blows out a laugh, his mouth twisting in the corners. “I kind of married into it. My wife’s a big fan.”
I shift my eyes to the TV screen, feigning interest. I’ve never followed basketball, considering its season is the same as hockey.
“She just asked for a divorce,” he says after a minute.
I shift my gaze back to him.
His lips are pinched together, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down in hard swallows.
“I should have known it was coming, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less. She’s always complained I work too hard.”
“What is it you do?”
“I’m a detective with Revere PD,” he answers in a thick Boston accent, then brings his bottle up to his mouth. “I’ve worked hard to give her everything she’s ever wanted. But I was too blind to realize all she wanted was me. Now I have to figure out a way to tell my kids why I’m moving out.”
“How old are they?” I ask in a small voice.
“Jessica is thirteen. Embry is eight.”
I offer him as compassionate a smile as possible, hoping he finds even a small slice of comfort in the gesture. “They’ll be okay. Kids are alarmingly resilient.” I look forward once more, swirling my glass on the surface of the bar.
As I check the score, I almost do a double take when they show a wide shot, one of the ridiculously tall basketball players dribbling toward the basket. But that’s not what catches my attention. It’s who’s sitting one row behind the team…Drew and his agent.
I squint, wondering if my eyes are playing tricks on me. Sure enough, the whistle blows and the camera zooms in on Drew, a banner below him on the screen displaying his name, followed by “Former Bruins Center”.
“How do you know?” Tony’s voice cuts through my stunned silence.
I whip my eyes toward his, my face heating as I try to pretend the idea of Drew standing me up for a basketball game doesn’t affect me.
“What?”
“Kids. How do you know they’ll be okay?”
I blink repeatedly, my gaze fluctuating between the TV and Tony’s, confused, a thousand explanations filling my brain as to why Drew would be at a Celtics game, considering he specifically asked me to meet him tonight. It doesn’t make sense. When I look back at the screen, I notice Drew’s not paying attention to the game, making me think perhaps his agent dragged him there for some reason. The camera goes to a wide shot again and my heart sinks when I realize what that reason is…
