I raked a hand through my hair. “Shit. Sorry, angel.” I sank onto a nearby bench at the back of the courtroom. “I hate this. I hate him. I can’t bear what this is doing to you. To us. I want to kill him, Christa. Every single time I see his smug face, I want to beat him into the ground until he doesn’t get back up.” I covered my face with my hands and rubbed hard. “I thought I hated my father, but it’s nothing in comparison with the feelings I have about Atwood. I can’t control them. I don’t know what to do.”
I met her worried gaze as she sat beside me. She linked her arm through mine and rested her head on my shoulder. “The only thing you have to do, Dayton, is be there, and you have been. You are. I’ve told you before, I couldn’t do this without you. You’re my tower of strength, my life raft on a stormy sea, my rock to cling on to. I understand the rage, the hatred, the anger, how powerless you feel, because I feel all those things, too. I don’t want Sutton anywhere near Max, but it’s out of my hands, and if I don’t find a way to come to terms with it, to make peace with how things are until Max is old enough to make up his own mind, I’ll go mad.”
I kissed the top of her head. “I understand. Really, I do, and I will support your decisions, whatever they are. But I’m not you. I can’t simply accept the fact that a man who brutalized you, who almost ensured that Max never existed, who made you feel fear and anguish and worry—and is still making you feel all those things—is going to be a part of our lives for the foreseeable future. I owe it to you to be completely honest and that’s why I have to tell you that I’ll continue searching for something that will get that man out of our lives for good. I’ll never stop until he’s gone.”
She raised her head and met my gaze, then lifted her hand and caressed my face. “And I love you for it,” she said. “Now can we please go home. I want to spend the rest of the day with Max and the night in your arms.”
I covered her hand with my own and smiled. “I can’t think of anything better.”
10
Christa
I locked my computer, picked up my purse, slotted my phone in my jacket pocket, and headed for the elevators. My heart seemed to leap into my throat and my stomach landed somewhere around my feet, making for a truck load of discomfort. I had to do this. I hated lying to Dayton, but it was for the best. That was why I’d told him I was meeting Joanna—the lady who ran the local parenting group—for lunch. Guilt settled heavily on my shoulders at his obvious pleasure that I was making friends, but I had no choice. If he found out I was meeting Sutton, he’d go crazy.
Sutton had texted me the night of the court hearing, reiterating his request for us to talk. Unlike the Sutton I knew—and despised—his text had sounded almost convivial. I didn’t trust him for one second but figured he wouldn’t leave me alone until I gave him his platform. Best to get it over with, and then the only time I’d have to see him would be when he picked up Max and dropped him off.
I’d chosen the meeting place, a busy coffee shop a few minutes’ walk from my office. I slipped inside and stood in line at the counter. Sutton hadn’t arrived yet, but as I was five minutes early, I wasn’t surprised. At least it gave me a chance to get settled and prepare myself for having to sit across from the man who’d hurt me so badly, emotionally and physically, and still continued to heap more misery upon me. Whatever transpired, I mustn’t let him rile me. I had to stay calm. If he saw an open wound, he’d poke at it. That was Sutton’s way. He couldn’t help himself.
I chose a seat at the back, facing the door, and waited. Right on cue, Sutton arrived. My pulse sped up, the skin at the back of my neck prickled, and sweat slicked my palms. I wiped them on my skirt. Calm down, Christa. He couldn’t hurt me in a public place. The only thing he had in his power was to use cruel, hateful words, and I struggled to think of a single thing he could say that he hadn’t said before.
His gaze fell on me, and when he spotted a single cup of coffee resting on the table, he arched an eyebrow, then stood in line. Five minutes later, he sauntered over holding a large latte and took the seat opposite. I’d purposely set my purse on the seat next to mine, sending a clear message. Stay the hell back.
“I guess I shouldn’t have expected you to get me a drink,” he said, tearing open a pack of sugar and tipping it into his coffee.
“I think you can afford your own, Sutton,” I said.
He smirked as he stirred in the sugar, his attention on his cup. He set the spoon on the table then picked up his drink and raised his eyes to gaze at me over the rim. “Your guard dog not with you?”
I mashed my lips together, ignoring his dig at Dayton. If he knew who I’d intended to have lunch with, he’d have insisted on coming along which would have significantly increased the chances of an altercation.
“You asked to see me, Sutton. What can I do for you?” I asked politely, as though talking to a complete stranger.
He sipped his coffee. “Come on, Christa.” He continued to say my chosen name in a tone loaded with sarcasm. “We’re not strangers. I fucked you every which way from Sunday for over a year. I know every single dip, hollow, birthmark, and ticklish spot on your entire body.” He relaxed into his chair and tongued his teeth. His gaze slipped south. “I know exactly how hard to rub your clit to make you come, what your pussy tastes like, and that you’ve got an active gag reflex which is why you’re shit at sucking cock. What’s the point in playing coy?”
I swallowed past a lump of bile that blistered my throat but refused to allow him to control me, to have power over me. He’d done all those things to Sienna, not to me. She’d been the naïve one, the gullible, hopeless romantic who’d believed in fairy tales.
“You also know how I bleed. What I look like with my face battered and bruised and vile words carved into my skin. How easy it is to snap my bones.” I pressed my fingers into the table and leaned forward. “But the one thing you never broke was my spirit. You threw everything at me, and yet here I am. Alive, kicking, and a permanent reminder of the evil bastard you are. I’ve said it before, Sutton. I don’t understand what I ever did to make you hate me so much, but at least I am able to love and be loved. Whereas you,” I laughed bitterly, “you don’t know the meaning of the word.”
He lounged in his seat and gave me one of those looks that used to instill terror in me. Except sitting there, I realized the words I’d just spoken were the truth. I used to think Sutton had broken me, but I was wrong. Dayton had painstakingly stitched together the tear in my soul and repaired the damage to my heart, but the strength to survive, to allow another man to get close, to find myself able to trust again was mine to celebrate. Christa wasn’t Sienna. Christa was a much stronger, more astute woman of the world. I preferred her. Hell, I loved her.
And right then, the hold Sutton had over me disappeared as quickly as a leaf blown away by a stiff wind. He might have gained access to Max, but I knew Sutton. He’d grow bored the second he realized his actions no longer affected me. His sole reason for going after Max was to torment me, but it was almost like an animal taunting its prey. He wanted to smell the fear, to witness the torture, to know he had the potential to destroy me. Except I was taking back the power. No longer would I call myself a victim. Dayton’s love and support had given me the strength and the courage to fight the man sitting opposite me.
Time to play a game of my own.
“We can sit here all day and throw insults at each other, Sutton, but what good will that do either of us? You hate me. I loathe you. But we both want the best for Max.” I tried not to choke on my words. Sutton only wanted the best for one person—himself. “Right?”
His eyes flared in surprise. “Did your guard dog help you grow those claws? Because the Sienna—sorry, Christa—I knew wouldn’t have dared to be so bold.”
I crossed my legs and rested my hands in my lap, the casual devil-may-care posture carefully chosen to appear nonchalant. “You don’t know me anymore, Sutton. Three years is a long time. I’m not the girl I once was.”
But you’re still the same guy, you vicious asshole.
“So, you’re giving up fighting me on the Max thing?” He sneered. “Not that it would do you any good, but still, watching you lose your mind would have been fun.”
I picked up my coffee cup and eyed him over the rim. “No, I’m not going to fight you, as long as you abide by the rules of the court.” I took a sip then set down the cup. “But let me be clear about one thing. If you harm one hair on my son’s head, I will kill you.”
Sutton smirked. “Claws indeed, little lamb. A wolf in sheep’s clothing.”
“I mean it, Sutton. Remember, there is nothing on Earth more protective than a lioness with her cubs. Having Max gave me a backbone. Mark my words, you hurt my son, and I will end your life—and I’ll enjoy it.”
His eyes narrowed, his stare direct and almost fevered. “You know, I’m getting off on this stronger side to your character. It’ll make it much more enjoyable when I fucking break you. Every time I come to pick Max up, I want it to feel like a knife to your gut, and when you think you can’t take the agony anymore, I’m going to twist the blade, slice your flesh, bleed you out. I’m gonna wreck you, Christa, Sienna, whatever your fucking name is this week. You think that rich fucker you’ve hooked up with will save you? He won’t.”
I could barely breathe but I held his gaze. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of looking away, of knowing his words scared the shit out of me, despite my earlier epiphany. I gripped my coffee cup to hide the tremor of my hands. “And this is why you wanted to see me?” My words came out steady, but my throat burned raw. “Really, you could have emailed, saved us both the bother.”
The faintest glimmer of a smile tugged at his lips. He twisted in his seat and dangled his right arm over the back of his chair, then crossed his ankle over his opposing knee and grazed a hand over his chin. He was trying to appear casual, unaffected by how I was standing up to him, but I knew the real Sutton. Beneath the mellow outer shell was a seething mass of rage. He’d assumed his threats would force me into submission, for my fear at his open hostility to turn me into a quivering mess, and yet I’d stood my ground and refused to bow to his will.
“You’d do well to remember something, sweetheart. Wherever you go, whatever you do, I’m watching.” He downed the rest of his coffee, then got to his feet. “I’m always watching.”
He buttoned up his jacket and met my gaze once more. His lifeless eyes locked on mine. “Rochelle hates you more than I do, if that’s even possible. If I were you, I’d be more worried about what she’s gonna do to you.”
A dart of agony pierced my chest. Once we had been the best of friends, but blood truly was thicker than water, and when Sutton had come after me, she’d stood shoulder to shoulder with him, his animosity toward me poisoning our friendship until I barely recognized the girl I’d once treated like a sister.
“I’m not scared of you, Sutton.” I feigned a yawn. “And, frankly, Rochelle barely registers above an irritation.”
A muscle in his jaw ticked, a sure sign I’d gotten to him. “I’ll pick the brat up at six on Friday night. Make sure he’s ready.”
An ache bloomed within me at the thought of Max spending the weekend with a man who had so little regard for his well-being, but the court had made its decision, and right then, I had no weapons in my arsenal, no choice but to swallow my fear and pray to God no harm came to my son. My earlier threat had been anything but hollow. If Sutton harmed a single hair on Max’s head, I’d put a bullet in his brain.
I waited for him to leave. As soon as he was out of sight, I collapsed, my shoulders sagging. I sucked in a proper breath, filling my lungs with much needed oxygen. I’d done it. I’d faced him all alone, and I’d survived.
Now, I just had to confess to Dayton.
“You fucking did what?”
I stood in front of Dayton, pleading with my eyes for him to calm down. I’d waited until he’d returned home from work, late because he’d been at a meeting, and then I’d hit him with it.
“Shush.” I flapped my hands in a downward motion. “You’ll wake Max. I didn’t want to lie to you, but I needed to do it, Dayton. I had to face him by myself, let him have his five minutes of trying to scare me. But don’t you see? He lost. I held my own, and he left with nothing. I didn’t involve you because it’s better this way. You’d have only inflamed the situation.”
“Better this way?” he hissed under his breath, glowering at me, his cheeks flushed with anger. He shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it on a chair then tore off his tie. His nostrils flared as he unfastened his top button, as though his collar was strangling him. “You sat down—alone—for a cozy lunch with your psychopathic ex, and you think that was a good fucking idea?”
I expelled a frustrated huff. “It wasn’t a cozy lunch, and I wasn’t alone. It was a fifteen-minute meeting surrounded by about a hundred people.” I threw my hands in the air. “By reacting this way, you’re simply proving me right.”
“So, because you knew I’d be furious, you lied to me instead?” He laughed bitterly. “That doesn’t say much for our relationship, Christa.”
I planted my hands on my hips. “Okay, let’s say I had come to you and told you I was going to meet him. What would you have done?”
“I’d have forbidden it.”
My eyes widened. “Forbidden it?” I stepped right up to him and poked him in the chest. “Let’s get one thing clear, right now. You can’t forbid me to do anything because you don’t own me. I’ll do whatever I damn well please.”
If I weren’t so angry, I’d take a moment to celebrate. For the second time that day, I was standing up for myself against a powerful, domineering man. Dayton might be the guy I’d fallen in love with, but that didn’t mean I had to bend to his will.
“Not when it comes to him you won’t. Don’t you get it? I’m trying to protect you.”
A red mist descended, and the muscles in my legs quivered. I locked my knees, holding firm. “Well maybe I don’t need protecting!”
We stood, toe to toe, both certain we were right, neither willing to give an inch.
“Fine,” Dayton spat. “Have it your way, but when you calm the fuck down and think about this, you’ll know I’m right. Meeting Atwood was a dumb move. When you’re ready to admit it, I’ll be in my study.”
He stomped across the living room and disappeared. An instant later, his study door slammed. I stuffed my hands in my hair and tugged. Argh! Such a frustrating, stubborn ass. And he was wrong; meeting Sutton had done me the power of good. Sure, the thought of him getting to spend time with Max instilled a fear in me so great, I could barely breathe. But I’d needed to show him that I had fire in my belly, that the weak, clingy woman who’d allowed a vicious bully to wreck her didn’t exist any longer. That his threats fell on deaf ears.
I need air.
I quickly checked on Max. Fast asleep. Good. I left Dayton a note telling him I’d gone for a walk in case he came looking for me and panicked when I wasn’t there. I spilled onto the street and sucked in a great lungful of humid air. By the time I’d pounded the sidewalk for a few blocks, sweat beaded at the nape of my neck. It might be past ten in the evening, but it was still very warm.
I went into a grocery store to pick up a bottle of water. I crossed to the line of coolers on the back wall, but as I opened the door, a distinct chill came over me, a feeling of being watched. Sutton’s comments earlier that day came rushing back. I glanced over my shoulder, but apart from a young couple with a baby out late to pick up a few necessities, and an elderly lady giving every loaf of bread a good squeeze before finally choosing one, no one was around.
I laughed softly. Idiot. I grabbed the water and headed for the checkout area. After paying, I wandered back out onto the street, still crammed with tourists, and blended into the crowd. I hadn’t gone very far when my skin tingled. Stopping quickly, I spun around. The guy right behind almost collided with me.
“Shit, sorry,” I sai
d.
He glared, mumbled something unintelligible, then shuffled off.
I carried on a bit farther, but when I couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling, I set off for home. I breathed a sigh of relief as my building came into view. I lengthened my stride, wanting to get inside now, to make up with Dayton and then take him to bed.
I was fifty feet from the front door when Rochelle came out of nowhere, blocking my way. Her eyes glinted with loathing.
“Not now, Rochelle,” I said wearily. The last thing I needed was another altercation with an Atwood. I stepped around her, but she shifted backward, stopping me. Adrenaline pumped through my blood, my senses on high alert. The earlier prickling feeling rushed back, the sensation akin to dozens of pins piercing my skin.
“What do you want?” I asked.
Her lips curled, the smile cruel and without warmth. “Retribution,” she said quietly.
I raised my eyebrows and gathered my courage. “Retribution?” I snorted. “I think you and Sutton have had your fair share on that score. I almost died, nearly lost my baby, had to move across the country leaving behind everything I’d ever known, and now, now I have to let my precious boy spend time with the very people who wanted him dead. The boy,” I pointed at her, “your psychopathic brother tried to kill before he’d even had a chance at life. So you know what, Rochelle? You can take your retribution and shove it up your ass!”
I shifted around her once more, but she counter-moved. “You were supposed to die,” she said, her voice eerily calm. “If you’d just died… Everything would have been okay.”
My breath caught. Holy fuck. She admitted it. I desperately looked around for witnesses, anyone who might have heard her, but no one was remotely interested in the two women squaring up to each other.
“You’re vile,” I said. “Both you and your brother. What did I ever do to you to deserve this? We were friends.”
Avenging Christa: A Billionaire Romance (Irresistibly Mine Book 2) Page 7
