Captivated On 5th Avenue: Book 3 (5th Avenue Romance Series)

by Abbie St. Claire

  “But you still want to be?” He stood, downed his wine and began to pace the open area in front of my fireplace. “I don’t understand why. He uses you and treats you like a doormat, and yet you keep waiting and wanting.”

  “Isn’t that what we’re doing, Jason? I’m the villain in this relationship?” I saw no other way to convince him. “It doesn’t matter now because I’m pregnant.”

  He whirled his body on an imaginary dime. “How?”

  Lowering my head, I raised my brows. “Seriously?”

  With his arms spread wide, “I meant how could you let that happen?” His tone much louder and with bite.

  He didn’t need to know the specifics of that night. Anything more said would’ve simply added a level to his hurt. “No one knows about this. No one, not even Isabella. I just found out myself, and I have a lot to work out.”

  He ran his hands through his hair. “I get it. I’m sorry my reaction wasn’t exactly what you needed to hear.” He sat down closely beside me and put my legs on his lap. “I’ll be here for you, but now I get the whole Sabrina thing.”

  I laughed a bit, “Actually, that was purely coincidence about her. She needs an evening out, and I thought you two would have fun.”

  “She will. I’ll make sure of it.”

  “But, what are your plans? Who’s going to help you?” The massage he was giving my feet felt awesome, but I couldn’t get used to it.

  Jason was a friend…I’d played that card.

  “I haven’t a clue but, one thing I do know is that I’m not using this baby to get Ian back. I practically raised Ty by myself since Carson was always traveling or out for the night. I don’t have it figured out, but one moment at a time.”

  “Even if he is a douche bag, he does have the right to know.”

  Sighing, I gave him a dissatisfied glare. “Testosterone sticking together? No, he does not have a right. I’m not arguing this point tonight. Let’s talk about something else.” I put my feet on the floor and went to the kitchen for juice.

  “If you’re interested, you can come over to the dark side and watch me bake pies with Sabrina tomorrow. Apparently, I had no shame in opening my mouth about having the best recipe and of course, the guys at work put a significant wager on it. So, I hope I raise the most money in the silent auction.”

  I laughed at him. With my hand in the air, “Dark side, huh?”

  Pies were definitely not my thing, but cookies? Now…

  Chapter Five

  Jason and Sabrina had been gone for about two hours when Cutter finally crashed in my arms. Oh, how I’d missed rocking a baby, even a fussy one. There were multiple reasons I orchestrated the night the way I did, but one of my goals was to see how Ty reacted to a little one getting my attention. He was great with Cutter, getting his toys, playing with him on the activity blanket and bringing me diapers and bottles. Quite a little helper.

  “Momma, can you buy babies?”

  Hmm, that was a double-edged question. “Parents do pay money for a private adoption, but it’s not like you’re buying a baby.” Or was it? “There’s no store for that, but they do have adoption agencies and people to help with the very long process. Why?”

  He ran his cars along the edge of the bathtub while the water soothed the baby. “Just wonderin’ if we could buy a baby like him.”

  My eyes watered in joy. I leaned further over the tub to avoid Ty seeing my emotions and prayed his enthusiasm continued.

  Ty had been asleep for over an hour in the guest room when I heard a noise downstairs. I opened the apartment door and looked down the hallway, but nothing appeared out of the norm. Just to be sure, I grabbed my phone and descended the stairs. When I opened the door to the bistro, a man’s frame materialized.

  “Hello, Chelsie, or should I say ‘Wifey.’” His body was so close to mine, I could smell the alcohol on his breath.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I’ve been watching you, and I want some of that stairway action.”

  Oh God, he saw Ian on the stairs and me.

  “Seems the good doc has taught you a few things—” he forced his hand under my shirt and went straight to my breast. Shoving me down on the staircase, my phone went flying—pain radiated from my neck and back.

  “Don’t, Carson. You’re drunk.” I went to slap him and ended up scratching his face. He fought me back, scratching my arm.

  “And you’re feisty and fucking hot. I’m getting a piece of what is still mine…”

  Like hell, I’m his…

  Grabbing the neck of my t-shirt, it gave way, ripping in his hands. He pushed me back on the stairs hard again and held my hands above my head as he bit my lips and my neck. “God, I’ve missed you. Watching you all these months has been like torture.”

  Shit, he must have put in more cameras.

  I didn’t want him to know I knew about them. “Don’t touch me, Carson. I said no!”

  “You were always such a fucking tease. No means yes, babe, and you always wanted what I’m about to give you.”

  Trying to wrestle him, I squirmed, but his frame was much larger than mine, and his hold was more than I could get away from although I did get one knee into his gut for a brief second. “Your son is upstairs. Is this what you want him to see?” I fought tears. I could only hope my plea would reach him at a parental level since nothing else was working.

  “He needs to be a man. You make him a pussy.”

  A real man would never take something that isn’t his…

  With one firm yank, my yoga pants were off, leaving me with panties, torn shirt and bra and the pain of the stairs digging into my back. “Nooooo,” I screamed. “Please stop.”

  Stifling my cries with his mouth, he put his hand inside my panties and ripped them off. When he lifted up to unfasten his pants, I had a moment to beg.

  “Please don’t do this. I’m pregnant.”

  “You’re a whore,” his words slurred. He slapped me.

  “Daddy, stop it. You’re hurting mommy.”

  Oh my God, NO. Our son will not see you rape me.

  “Ty call 911 on the phone in Sabrina’s kitchen.”

  He was crying. “Mommy?”

  “I’m fine Ty, now go.”

  “Let her go and get on the floor.”

  The voice sounded familiar, but I couldn’t make out its owner in my rattled fog.

  “Who are you?” Carson backed up against the wall, his fly open and his junk visible to the world.

  “James Snyder. I believe Mr. Smith and Mr. Wesson said to get on the floor.”

  Snyder Investigations. Thank you, sweet Jesus.

  The click of the gun was unmistakable. Carson dropped to his knees and put his hands in the air.

  Mr. Snyder stepped into the stairwell. “Ms. Peterson, the police are on their way. Are you okay?”

  “Yes, but I need to check on the kids.”

  He eyed me quickly, leaving his gun aimed at Carson. “We need the DNA from your nails. Don’t wash your hands.”

  My eyes studied my shaking hands as I fought to stay in the present.

  Carson—a rapist? He’d been the one stalking the girls and me. What else had he done? Slowly, I climbed the stairs, holding the wall for support. Ty was on the phone with the 911 operator. I took the phone from him and continued the conversation with dispatch as I checked on Cutter.

  Back in the living room, I sat down on the sofa and held Ty in my arms. Refusing to give in to the tears trying to fall—bravery for my son.

  A knock rapped on the door. When I opened it, two male police officers were standing in the hall, one holding a bag with what looked to be my pants inside. “Ms. Peterson, are you okay?”

  I nodded. “Are those my pants?”

  “Yes, we need them for evidence. Is there something here that you could put on?”

  I had a store full of clothing below us, but I didn’t want to go downstairs practically naked—again. “I’ll be right back.” Closing the door,
I decided to borrow from Sabrina. We were close to the same size. Regretfully invading her privacy, I found a maxi skirt and a blouse to put on. When I returned to the door, there was a female officer waiting in the hall.

  “I’m Diane Miller. Do you want to call someone?” She had my cell phone in her hand.

  “Yes, please.”

  She came in and waited while I called Jason’s cell, but it went to voice mail. I sent him a text as a backup, but I began to pace. It wasn’t exactly the news I wanted to give him on a special night for his work. He’d race out of there for sure.

  “Before tonight, when was the last time you spoke to Mr. Peterson?” She was making notes in a small notebook.

  “Last Sunday when he brought Ty home from his weekend visitation.” Quickly, I flipped through my iPad for a game and handed it to Ty, hoping to distract his attention so that I could speak with the officer.

  We stepped into the kitchen. “Is this necessary right now?”

  “We can wait, but the events are usually fresher in the mind—”

  My hand went up to quieten her. “Fine, but keep your voice low, I don’t want my son hearing any of this. Is that clear?” I whispered.

  “Absolutely. Back to the night of the exchange, did the two of you argue about anything?”

  Honestly, I couldn’t recall the exchange, nothing stood out of place. “No, not that I remember.”

  My phone rang. It would be a conversation I dreaded if I told him anything. Less is more. “We’re fine, but Carson came and made a scene. The police are here. Are you—”

  “We’re on our way. Are you really okay?”

  I was silent longer than planned, and he asked again, “Chelsie, did he hurt you?”

  Lie.

  “Carson was drunk and became a belligerent ass. I think he’s being arrested, but they want to talk to me more. I can’t do that and watch the kids. You leaving now?”

  His breaths were quick as if he was running and I heard Sabrina asking questions. “Valet is getting my car now. Be there in a few minutes.”

  I knew he would drive like hell was roaring up to claim all of us. “Don’t race, we’re okay.”

  The officer continued with her questions, and it wasn’t long before Sabrina and Jason came racing through the door. Ty was asleep in my lap, and I put my finger up to shush them.

  “They told us what happened downstairs. Did he—?” Jason asked while Sabrina wrapped her arm around my shoulder.

  I shook my head. “Can you stay here with Sabrina and the boys? They want to take me to the hospital for DNA and pictures.”

  Putting a pillow under Ty’s head, I slipped out from under him. I’d never forgive Carson for what he did to my son. What kind of animal was he? My body was aching, and my mind raced with questions, but my heart was numb.

  Commit murder…

  “I got the boys, Chelsie. Let Jason go with you,” Sabrina whispered.

  “No.”

  Jason paced along the back wall behind the sofa, I’m sure he was conflicted as what to do. When he ran his hands through his hair, I saw his frustration. Leaning over the sofa, I grabbed his arm. “Okay, you can go with me. I want this over with.”

  After the scrapings and photos had been completed, the doctor gave me a moment to collect myself before he brought in Jason and the ultrasound technologist to check on the baby. When the technologist pointed out the baby’s heartbeat, moisture from my happy tears pooled on the pillow beside me.

  “Wow,” Jason exclaimed as he gripped my hand.

  When the doctor told me that everything was fine and to take a few days for rest, I knew my overbearing protector had heard him loud and clear.

  Chapter Six

  Another Saturday, but after the night before it was anything but normal.

  Focus, focus, focus, I repeated. But, on what?

  Living lies and making up stories had become my new low. What story was I going to make up for Carson?

  I got out of bed which was, at least, a start to attempt the day. Freshly showered, I made breakfast and was reading the paper like every other day—trying to act normal as if I knew what that was anymore. But, Ty wasn’t eating. Instead, he stared out the den window that led to our backyard, all while subconsciously rubbing Yolo’s head.

  Walking up behind him, I snuggled both arms around him, my squeeze tight. “You know I love you to the moon and back, right?”

  He nodded, the rest of his body tensed. “Daddy doesn’t.” His tears fell without a sound, and I found them by accident when I kissed his cheek.

  The pain he held so deep shattered my core. As much as I didn’t want to build Carson up, I refused to tear Ty down. “Daddy loves you. That will never change, but he made a mistake.”

  Ty looked up at my bruised face. “He hit you.”

  “He did, and people aren’t supposed to hit each other. Ever. For that, he will be punished.”

  Ty wrestled from my grasp and jumped down from the bar stool. “I hope he stays in jail forever.” He shouted while running to his room.

  Follow him? Give him space? Dear God, there was no freakin’ rule book for this.

  I covered my face with both hands for a moment. From the list of charges pending, jail time wasn’t going to be a problem. The stalking charge alone was a second-degree felony since he’d had a drunken assault conviction when he was in college. He wasn’t getting out of this, but if the DA offered him a plea, he wouldn’t spend his life in prison as he deserved. Facing the idea that he’d be out was unnerving.

  Questionable hindsight. What else had he done that I didn’t know about?

  Stupid, stupid, stupid. Ugh. I became just plain dumb when it came to the men in my life.

  Bad boys. I’d always been drawn to them.

  When a knock came at the front door, I opened it, expecting Jason.

  “We had leftovers, and I thought I’d share,” Shawna barged in with the baby in a Moby wrap snuggled to her chest and holding a tray of food out in front of them both.

  “Ty will be in love. He won’t have to eat my cooking today.”

  She noticed my bruises.

  With big eyes, she sat the tray down on the credenza in the hallway. “I knew he wasn’t good for you.” She pushed the hair back away from my face, and I saw her eyes start to water. “He better be in jail,” she said with a loud tone.

  “Shh. Ty’s in his room. Yes, he is in jail, but the he is Carson, not Jason. And, Ty saw part of it.”

  “What? Oh my God.” Her hand covered her mouth as her eyes widened.

  I picked up the food and with the tray of enchiladas in my hands, she followed me to the kitchen where we took a seat at the breakfast table. Whispering, I told her a condensed version. “Ty is so angry and confused. I know he needs counseling. They assigned us one but—”

  “Jorge might be better. He was going to the office, but let me call him.”

  “No.” I placed my hand over her fingers steadily typing.

  “Whatever war is going on between you two needs to be resolved.” Her huff was audible.

  My eyes glanced around the room searching for something to focus on since her stare was intense. “It’s not that simple.”

  “So Jorge made a mistake and kept some things from you, from both of us. It wasn’t out of spite, and if my memory serves me correctly, it was Ian’s doing. That’s who you should be mad at.” She slapped her phone down on the table. “Like you could ever be pissed off at that loser.”

  “Right now, I’m mad at the world.”

  “Well, you better get over it honey, because we’re your best friends, and we’ve been here for you and will continue to be. Jorge loves you like a sister.”

  Getting up, I poured us both some juice. “Fine, call him.”

  Within a few minutes, Jorge arrived, and I gave him the quick version. He came up with a cool idea that he needed Ty and Yolo to help him with some marketing photos at his office, and he took them for a ride. If Ty opened up to anyone, it would b
e Jorge. Those two had always been very close.

  Shawna was nursing Samantha when I walked into the living room and sat beside her on the sofa. “She’s such a good baby.”

  “She’s rotten. I’m not sure who’s worse with her, Jorge or me.”

  I laughed, but inside I was jealous. They had such a lovely little family, and Shawna was taking a furlough from the airline so that she could stay home with baby Sam. “You have to ask? Not going back to work for a year is going to be so awesome, but it will fly by fast.”

  “I never thought this day would happen. Years of trying, miscarriages, failed in-vitro’s—you know what that’s like and then boom, one day out of the blue you’re pregnant.”

  Yep, I knew what it was like. A punch to the gut. Tell her, not tell her. Oh God, what do I do? It’s not like she’s going to call Ian, but she might tell Jorge.

  I moved the pillows on the sofa and then rearranged the decorative items on the end table.

  Jumping up with anxiousness, “I’m getting more juice, you want something while I’m up?”

  Shawna adjusted the baby in the wrap since she was asleep. “I want you to sit down and talk to me. Let it all out.”

  You have no idea what that “all” looks like for me right now.

  “I don’t know how to explain all of this to Ty. It isn’t fair that my sweet, sweet boy has to suffer. I don’t have those answers even for myself.”

  “Give it time, the truth will come out. When Carson’s been sober for a few days, talk to him.”

  “That isn't going to happen.” I rolled my eyes at her.

  “Time, Chelz.”

  I went to the fridge and pulled out the mango lemonade I’d been craving, but desperate, emotional moments called for emergency sugar, as if I needed anything else to make me fidgety, and found some cookie dough in the freezer. With a plate filled with various balls of deliciousness, I took my healthy juice and plopped back down on the sofa.

  “I don’t know how you eat the dough,” she shook her head and wrinkled her nose.

  “What? I don’t use raw eggs, so there’s nothing in here to hurt me. These oatmeal and raisin are to die for. Try one.”