A. Zavarelli - Stutter (Bleeding Hearts Book 2)

by Unknown

  She wanted to know if I had any idea she was in the car that night. I didn’t. I’d never told her because it was irrelevant. Regardless of my lack of knowledge, there was no justification.

  “You knew Brayden would come straight to me,” she pressed. “If he came to California.”

  “I did.”

  She waited anxiously, and I searched her pretty face with my eyes. I was afraid to tell her these things. Afraid she’d only ever see me as a monster who couldn’t be redeemed. Squeezing her hand in mine, I anchored myself with her warmth as I tripped around the words in my brain.

  “I forwarded Brayden’s number to my phone before I left that night,” I told her. “Then had maintenance disable the elevator from reaching the top floor and lock the stairwell.”

  Her face remained a mask of stoicism as she processed my words. I hadn’t a clue what she was thinking. The sadist in me demanded I put a stop to this bullshit at once. Her mouth had so many other beneficial uses than dredging up the past. It was fear talking, okay? Don’t write me off completely.

  “So Brayden wouldn’t be able to contact me,” she reasoned out loud.

  I closed my eyes and allowed my head to fall against the headboard. I’d prefer her impassivity over disappointment any day of the week.

  “I really did have a business dinner that night,” I explained. “Mick was tracking Brayden through his phone. Neither of us anticipated you’d be there with him.”

  “So he didn’t know I was in the car,” Brighton whispered. “Is he the one who ran us off the road?”

  “Yes.” I swallowed. “I called Nicole during dinner, and she told me you were in bed asleep. She’d never lied to me before, so I had no reason not to believe it. Then Mick called me an hour later and told me he’d done what I’d asked. I met him there.”

  Brighton shook in my arms as all of my vile admissions spewed from my mouth like lava. I couldn’t stop them now. She’d asked for it. I wanted her forgiveness. I needed her to wipe my slate clean and anoint me with her purity again. I clutched her tighter, terrified to let go. She was too small and fragile.

  “I had no fucking idea, baby girl,” I choked out my desperation. “I swear I didn’t. I’d never do that to you. You have to believe it.”

  “But you’d do it to Brayden,” she answered. “You wanted to.”

  “Yes, I wanted to.” There was no point denying it.

  “So why didn’t you?”

  I opened my eyes and gazed into hers. Even brimming with tears, they were the most exquisite colors I’d ever seen. The sadist in me thought the tears only made them more so. Crystalline blue tinged with balmy gray and honeyed amber. They held an entire landscape within them-where the mountains met the sea in a collision of drizzling rain and thunder. Nothing else in the world rivaled them. The windows to her soul, they often conveyed her thoughts so openly. But not this time. She was keeping her emotions very close to the vest, and I didn’t like it one bit.

  “I don’t know,” I answered finally. Honestly. I didn’t know why I couldn’t pull the trigger that night. “I kept looking at him and thinking about you. About how much it would hurt you.”

  “And what if you’d done it?” she asked. “Then what would have happened? What was the plan then?”

  “I didn’t have one,” I admitted. Everything I’d planned was only about that moment. The rush I’d feel in those brief few seconds when justice was exacted and all was right with the world again. I wanted to taste Brayden’s agony. To feel its presence choking the life out of him like I’d felt that night. He was the only one who could pay up. The only one left to settle the score.

  “So you weren’t going to try to cover it up?”

  I hadn’t a clue why this mattered, but I answered anyway. “No.”

  “You would have just gone to prison, lost everything.”

  “If that’s what ensued, then yes.”

  “I find that hard to believe,” she scoffed. “You’ve built an empire. And you would just let all of that go, just to kill Brayden?”

  “My company was built out of necessity,” I replied. “I needed resources to do what I planned. Money, power. It was all a piece of the plan. Not the other way around.”

  “So you spent five years working yourself to death, planning all of this… and now you’re ready to let it go?”

  Her voice was tinged with doubt. I didn’t blame her. She told me earlier she believed me, but she’d always have her reasons not to trust me. We’d probably come back to this dead horse time and time again.

  “I already have let it go.” I grazed her throat with my lips and inhaled her scent tangled with mine. My chest inflated with male pride that she smelled of me. That she looked so beautifully ravaged and thoroughly fucked, by none other than yours truly. It did things to me. And again, the importance of her presence in my life socked me in the gut.

  “I’ll spend every day for the rest of my life proving it,” I murmured.

  “But why now?” she asked. “You said you decided before you even knew I was pregnant.”

  My thumb explored the curve of her pretty pink lips, coveting the tiny hitch in her breath when I touched her this way. “I did it for you,” I said. “I almost lost you. And nothing could ever be worth going through that again.”

  She blinked away her tears and nodded in apparent satisfaction as she wrapped her body around me like a vice. “I trust you not to hurt me again, Ryland,” she whispered. “Don’t make me regret that.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Brighton

  Ryland had all of my stuff moved back into his apartment. I didn’t really see the point, since we’d be moving again soon anyway, but he’d insisted.

  And although Emma had been very helpful for the short time that I had her around, he’d also cut back her hours. Now that we were living together, he agreed that I didn’t really need someone with me round the clock.

  It was a relief, and we had a schedule where I could call Emma if I ever needed her for the day. She seemed to be more than happy with the system as well, as opposed to sleeping on Nicole’s sofa.

  I was sewing a lot. Ryland’s donation to Sophia’s Shoes meant there was more we could do with it. Nicole and I were working on expanding and outsourcing some of the sewing projects. But it was still something I enjoyed doing, so I wanted to keep it up for as long as I could manage.

  Now we were sitting in the apartment, at one of our weekly meetings to discuss the foundation. This was one of Nicole’s ideas, but really I thought it was an excuse for us to eat dessert and hang out. I loved it.

  “What about a scholarship program?” she asked, dunking a donut into her hot black coffee.

  Her and Matt were both sitting across from me, and he was probably bored out of his mind. But ever since Nicole had warmed up to him being around, he was taking full advantage of it. I’d never seen either of them look so happy, and it made me happy too.

  “What kind of scholarship?” I asked. “They’re little girls, so I don’t know how that would work.”

  “Well, I know,” Nicole said thoughtfully. “But maybe we could expand into older age brackets too. We could even do a scholarship for a ballet school every couple of years if it fits into the budget.”

  I mulled over her words carefully before I realized how much they made sense. When I started all of this, I was only thinking of girls around Sophia’s age who would have been nine or younger. But it wasn’t fair to exclude the older kids who didn’t have access to these kinds of programs.

  “I think you’re right,” I agreed. “It sounds like a good idea.”

  “I’ll do some poking around,” she said. “And tell you what I come up with.”

  “Okay.” I nodded. “So what do you need from me for the charity gala?”

  “Well we’re meeting with Alex Burton next week. He’s interested in the foundation, and I have a really good feeling about this.”

  “Why does that name sound familiar?” I asked.

&n
bsp; “Because…” Nicole glanced at Matt and then back to me. “It’s one of Ryland’s competitors. He’s probably not going to like it, but this isn’t about him.”

  “Oh.”

  I really didn’t want to start poking the bear again already, but Nicole was right. This was about the charity and not about Ryland’s business.

  “I’m sure he’ll understand,” I said. “As long as we keep business out of it. This is just for Sophia’s Shoes.”

  “Absolutely.” Nicole grinned. “This guy is a big fish, and I want to reel him in while I’ve got a chance.”

  “How did you even get him to agree to a meeting?” I asked.

  So far we’d been struggling to find big donors for such a small charity.

  “Brighton, you underestimate me.” She laughed. “I still have plenty of contacts in the industry.”

  I smiled too because I remembered the last time she’d said those words. It was because she was helping Ryland plan his revenge. We’d come a long way since then, and I trusted Nicole with all my heart now.

  “Anything else?” I asked. “Do you need help with the planning?”

  “Nope.” She shook her head. “Got it all covered. I just need you to show up and smile while you mix with the wealthy and convince them to sign over some hard earned money to our cause.”

  “I’m sure with Ryland beside me it won’t be an issue.” I grinned. “He’ll do all the work just by showing up.”

  “I think you’re right,” she agreed. “I’ve got a really good feeling about this.”

  “Me too. So now that we’ve got all of that settled…” I folded my hands across the counter and took on a serious expression. “It’s onto the second order of business.”

  Nicole wiggled around in her seat and clasped her hands together in eager anticipation. I’d made her wait for the news because I knew she’d be dragging me to every shopping center in a fifty-mile radius once I told her.

  “Oh my God,” she squeaked. “It’s a boy, isn’t it? I just know it’s a boy.”

  I kept my expression flat, giving nothing away. How the hell did she know that?

  “I read online that if you’re carrying low it’s a boy.”

  I knew that was an old wives’ tale. Still, I looked down at my belly and frowned. “How can you tell?”

  “I don’t really know,” Nicole admitted. “But once I read it I thought it looked that way to me. Or maybe I just really want it to be a boy.”

  “Well, then I guess you’ll be happy to know you’ve gotten your way?”

  She clapped her hands over her mouth and then smacked Matt in the chest. He grinned.

  “Seriously?” she gasped. “It’s a boy. Oh my God. We have to go shopping.”

  Point made.

  “Yes, Nicole.” I rolled my eyes. “We’ll have to go shopping. Maybe next week.”

  “Tomorrow,” she insisted. “I can’t wait any longer.”

  Matt gave me a shrug that said everything I needed to know. Just like Ryland, Nicole was used to getting her way.

  “Alright,” I relented. “Tomorrow it is then.”

  ***

  During the course of our time apart, I realized that I’d missed Ryland’s birthday. I felt horrible about it, especially when I learned that it was the night he came over to my apartment. The night he discovered I’d hidden the baby from him.

  When I brought it up with Nicole, she told me he hadn’t done anything for his birthday for the last six years. It broke my heart. Ryland gave me anything I wanted without blinking an eye, and he never made me feel guilty for it. He insisted that his money was mine, and I shouldn’t have any qualms about spending it.

  It still felt weird though, and I didn’t like to go overboard on things. In a way I was grateful that he was so involved in the whole process. We didn’t buy anything-whether it was car seats or baby toys-until he’d looked at all the safety specs first. Again, it was just another one of his freakishly adorable traits.

  But when it came to his birthday present, I had no idea what to get him. Buying something at a store-with his money no less-felt cheap. So over the last two weeks, I’d worked on something else. Something that came from the heart. I had no idea if he was going to like it or not, but I’d compiled everything I could think of into a scrapbook of our time together. There were quotes and lyrics that reminded me of him, or things he’d said to me during our time together that I wanted to remember. I’d written him little notes about some of the good memories I had and told him about the first pregnancy moments I’d experienced without him. I wanted him to be a part of it, all of it, and to know how much I loved him.

  I’d been sneaking photos of him at every opportunity I got, and even some photos of us together. He was surprisingly okay with that, and it usually led to him sneaking photos of me for his own private stash. When I’d found that he actually printed off a candid photo of me and placed it on his desk beside his growing collection, we had another memory to add to his office that afternoon.

  Now I was at the apartment, prepared to finally give him the present I’d worked so hard on. I’d spent the entire afternoon attempting to cook him a nice dinner, and nothing was going to plan. By the time he came in, I was covered in flour and frustration. My roast had burnt, and my chocolate cake was under cooked.

  I was going to be a terrible mother.

  “Brighton?” he shot me a questioning glance when he saw the mess around me.

  Suddenly, it wasn’t just his birthday that I’d ruined, it was a whole lot of other things. I was a big fat failure, and I was terrified for my poor baby. Tears welled in my eyes and I tried to shoo him away. He didn’t leave of course. He strode right over and pulled me against his chest, no concern whatsoever that I was getting his clothes dirty.

  He gripped my chin and tilted, his blue eyes searching mine.

  “What’s the matter, baby girl?”

  “I don’t know how I’m going to do this,” I blurted. “Moms are supposed to be able to cook for their children. I can’t even do it for you.”

  He laughed and gave me a little squeeze, pressing a tender kiss against my temple. Then he grabbed my hand and led me to the sofa, gesturing for me to sit. I watched him unbutton his collar and roll up his sleeves before he sat down beside me and pulled me into his lap.

  “We’ll order out tonight.” His fingers massaged my neck, making me forget my epic failure as his warmth seeped into me. He had such a calming effect on me when he wanted to.

  “You don’t have to know how to cook to be a good mother, Brighton,” he continued. “And besides, I’m sure you’ll learn if you really want to.”

  “It isn’t fair, though,” I protested.

  “What isn’t?” he asked, brushing my hair back over my shoulders.

  “You’re smart and beautiful and perfect, and you’ll be able to teach him everything,” I complained. “You don’t even have to try to be a good father. But what do I have to offer?”

  Ryland stiffened beneath me, his palm pulling my gaze back to his.

  “You really think that?” he asked. “You think I’m going to be a good father?”

  I couldn’t believe he even had to ask. I knew he was. But there was a hint of worry in his eyes, and I realized I wasn’t the only one who was afraid. I gave him a soft smile and stroked his cheek, enjoying the way he closed his eyes and leaned into my touch. “An overprotective one, sure. But I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

  His lips found mine, and he kissed me long and hard before pulling back with a lazy smile.

  “Brighton, you’re going to be great, I promise you. You already have everything you need.”

  “I’m afraid I’ll be like Norma,” I admitted. “I’m afraid I won’t know how to show affection or say the right things.”

  “Baby.” He wrapped his arms around me and squeezed. “You have nothing to worry about. You aren’t anything like Norma.”

  He didn’t say it with anger or hatred, but just like he was stating
a fact. And it reassured me for some reason.

  “What was your mom like?” I whispered.

  Ryland frowned and buried his face in my neck, holding me close while the silence stretched between us. I knew he didn’t like to talk about these things, but I wanted him to. I wanted him to remember the good things about his family, and I wanted to know them in the only way that I could.

  “She was incredible,” he finally murmured against my skin. “Everything a kid could ask for. The whole cookie-baking, soccer mom, white picket fence Americana. A genius too.”

  “Wow,” I remarked. “So that’s where you get it.”

  “She was a senior analyst for Selvek Communications back in Chicago when my father met her. But once she had me, she gave it all up to be a stay at home mom. I asked her once if she ever regretted it, but she said it was the best decision she ever made.”

  “I’m sure she meant it, Ryland.” I threaded my fingers through his and gave him a shaky smile. “I’m sure they both loved you very much.”

  “She didn’t know how critical my father’s finances were,” he said quietly. “I certainly didn’t. He kept up pretenses that everything was okay. He’d sent me to business school and groomed me to take over his company even though he was on the brink of self-destruction.”

  It was difficult to imagine why a father would ever turn to men like Frankie’s boss for money. But when I thought about the position he was in, there was a small part of me that tried to understand. He had a family to take care of, one that he didn’t want to let down. I never wanted Ryland to feel that way.

  “You know that even if you lost everything, and we had to live in a cardboard box, I’d still be by your side.”

  He looked down at me with fiercely possessive eyes and a lazy grin. “I know you would, Brighton. But I’m always going to take care of you.”

  His hands started to roam, and I knew we wouldn’t get anything accomplished if I let it go on. So I stood up and walked to the breakfast bar to grab his present.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I have something for you,” I told him as I took my place back in his lap.