“Mister Leduc...where are we?” She turned her head from side to side, as though it would give her a clue.
“The front steps of the house.”
“But Master!” She moved to cover her tits, but let her hands fall back to her thighs when he growled in warning. “Someone might see.”
“You should be seen. I’m pretty sure letting you wear clothing is a sin.”
“Why are we out here? Why am I naked?”
He lowered himself to sit a step below her. “It’s time the secrets stop, Miss Korsgaard. I know you’re hiding something, and it’s time you came clean.”
She fretted at her lip and shifted guiltily.
“Where’s Rodrigo?”
Jealousy made him stiffen. He blew out a breath, striving for patience. “What, you need back-up to talk to me now? No matter what his family calls me, I’m not a beast.”
“No, Master.” Silence descended, and she shifted her weight off one knee. There was probably grit or small stones digging into her smooth skin. If red knees were all she got out of this encounter, she’d be a lucky girl.
“Spit it out, Miss Korsgaard,” he said, voice stern.
“Why here?”
“I come from a house full of fucking secrets. Disgusting secrets. I don’t want that for this house or for our life together. I want you to talk to me like you talk to Rodrigo. To trust me. You were mine first, for fuck’s sake. I hate that you tell him things and go to him for things, and I’m just what? Dominance? A heavy hand and a hard dick?”
She hunched her shoulders. “Why am I naked and blindfolded?”
“You’re blindfolded to make telling the truth easier. You’re naked because I deserve a consolation prize, considering I’ve had to resort to begging to get a straight fucking answer from you.”
Her expression shifted, and he could tell she was trying to guess exactly what he knew.
“I’m your dominant, Miss Korsgaard. I’m his dominant too. Neither of you should be keeping secrets from me. You’re both shutting me out, and it’s pissing me off.”
“I think I hear a car coming, Master.”
“Then you’d better start talking before the UPS guy gets an eyeful.”
“But Severin...it’s important. I don’t want to tell you here, like this.”
“Apparently you didn’t plan to tell me at all.”
“I was afraid you’d freak out.”
“You want me to freak out? Whisper behind my back a little more, you’ll go from having a master to a monster sooner than you think. I’m at the end of my fucking patience, Miss Korsgaard. So what is it?” He swallowed. “Are you two planning to leaving me?”
“What? No!”
He tensed, hating that he had to voice his biggest fear. “Are you...dying?” His voice hadn’t hitched, had it? She couldn’t have heard his hesitation.
“No, Master,” she replied, reaching out a hand again, but she should have known he wouldn’t reward her yet. “Not that I’m aware of.”
A shaky breath escaped his lips, but it was mercifully silent. The other reason he’d blindfolded her was to hide how worried he was. He’d spent most of his life trying to pretend he didn’t give a shit about anything or anyone. Hanging on to people was like trying to close a fist around water, and yet he kept trying. He never seemed to learn from his mistakes.
“Then what? What could be so important or terrible that you can’t just fucking tell me? It’s not Church or Ilse, or the girls because I talked to him yesterday, and he’s not acting weird at all. I assume you haven’t heard from fucking Loïc. So what? What else could you be hiding from me? Is it Ro? Is he sick? Is he leaving?”
“No, Master. None of that.”
He cupped her cheek, her face so small and fragile in his huge paw of a hand. He let go before his calluses scraped her. “Then tell me, Min. Just say it or I’ll keep thinking the worst.”
Without asking, she pulled off the blindfold, blinking around for a moment before looking at him again. He was about to punish her for it, but her expression was so grave he chose to let the impudence slide.
“I need to see your face.” Her dark brows drew together. “Rodrigo should be here for this.”
“But he knows already.”
“Yes.”
“Then let me have the same private moment you had with him.”
Guilt flashed in her eyes, as he’d intended.
“I’ve been sick.”
“Yes.”
“And the doctor came.”
“Yes.”
“You left.”
He inclined his head, acknowledging his culpability in that. He hadn’t been ready to hear she was dying, but then she’d just assured him she wasn’t. So where was this going?
“If you throw me out for this I’ll never forgive you.” There was an underlying pain and accusation he wasn’t sure he deserved. Maybe he did.
“Tell me.” His mind raced through things that didn’t fit with the facts or what he knew of her – that she’d emptied his bank accounts, or fucked Loïc, or killed someone and needed help hiding the body. None of that shit mattered.
She swallowed thickly and her voice dropped to a tentative whisper. “I’m trusting you, Severin.”
He nodded for her to go on, but suspicion sprouted.
Shit.
“I’m pregnant.”
His legs felt numb. He didn’t trust himself to walk, even though all he wanted in that moment was to leave. He opened his mouth to say something cutting, but bleak tears welled already threatening to overflow her lashes, and her shoulders hunched, expecting ugly words.
“It’s Rodrigo’s?” It had to be. She wouldn’t be telling him like this if she planned to end the pregnancy.
“Well...” The tears did spill then, starting as fat droplets and continuing as a steady stream. “We considered lying to you, but we don’t know. It doesn’t matter either way, does it?”
Doesn’t matter? She was supposed to be the fucking voice of reason, but the woman had lost her damned mind. If it was his, there was no way she could go ahead with this. They’d talked about this. He’d thought she’d agreed. And wasn’t she on the pill? They’d been careful.
Maybe she’d forgotten to take them when she’d been gone with Rodrigo. It had to be his for sure, right? Because if it wasn’t Rodrigo’s, that would mean adding another screwed-up generation to his already screwed-up family.
He closed his gaping mouth with a snap then opened it again when he could string some words together.
“Of course it fucking matters,” he bellowed. “If it’s mine, it’s going to be all...fucked up. Why bring that into the world when we have the chance to end it now? Before it ends up like me or Loïc or Martine. There are tests you can do beforehand to find out, I’m sure.” He made a chopping gesture, so she’d know he meant it. “If it’s mine, it’s gone.”
She spread a hand over her belly. “Fuck you, Leduc.” Her small body bristled with an aggression he’d never seen in her. She pushed herself to her feet, glaring up at him, teeth bared. “This baby is mine. Not yours. Not Rodrigo’s. Mine! If you think for one second you get to make this decision on my behalf –”
“I’m your dominant,” he growled back.
Her hand went to her throat, and she unclipped his leash then threw it at his feet. “Tattoo.”
She was safewording?
She stalked into the house, leaving him standing there, completely at a loss.
After a few minutes he realized he was standing on his steps staring at the front doors as if Minnow would pop back out again and tell him she was joking.
The doors stayed shut.
Feeling lost, he wandered into the backyard and found himself sitting in front of the fire pit. The ground was still scarred from where he’d burned Sutton’s dresser. He picked up one of the metal drawer pulls and cleaned the ash from it. The metal was cool in his hand, and he turned it over, wondering what Sutton would say if she was here. Probably that he w
as being an ass. What the fuck else was he supposed to do? Pretend he was happy? Excited?
The idea of Minnow having his baby had appealed to him the first time it had come up – even now he could feel the siren’s call of it. To have something between them that important and mind-blowing. A Minnow/Severin hybrid. But that was before he realized the kid would either inherit his issues, or he’d inadvertently mess the kid up, just by virtue of who he was. He wasn’t parent material. If the kid was Rodrigo’s there was a chance things could work, but if it was Severin’s there was just too much to overcome.
How could Minnow not understand that? Rodrigo could fill in the gaps where he’d suck as a husband – but as a parent? That was a lot to make up for. Maybe they should just leave and make a normal family – maybe at Rodrigo’s house where Severin wouldn’t screw the kid up worse.
When Ilse had the girls, he’d made it clear he wouldn’t be doing fiddly things like holding babies or cleaning up after them – but Minnow wasn’t going to tolerate that from him. And what if he lost his temper or something? He was doing fine with the dogs, but they could run if he ever flipped out. A baby was too helpless. Babies were small and floppy if they weren’t held right. He was too big to deal with delicate shit.
No. No way.
He’d promised not to make her leave, but if she was going to breed here maybe he had to get the fuck out.
*
The knock at the forge door made Severin grit his teeth. After weeks of living in the outbuilding, his damned submissives didn’t fucking knock anymore. That meant the only person it could possibly be was Church, who’d arrived with Ilse and the girls the day before.
Even though he ignored the knock, the door swung wide.
“Aren’t you going to get dressed?” Church asked, his low voice grating.
“I am dressed.”
“For your fucking wedding, asshole.”
He kept going with his weld. “They can marry each other. They don’t need me.”
“They don’t need you for your own wedding?”
“It’s their wedding, I’m just ugly window dressing.”
“For fuck’s sake, Sev. Quit acting like a child. The photographer is here. Everyone else is ready, other than Min. She’s putting a brave face on things, but it’s obvious she’s trying not to start crying again. Or throwing up.” Church strolled over to a worktable and examined a sculpture he’d made a few days before, then used it to gesture to the blankets that were thrown in the corner. “She told me you were sleeping in here, but I didn’t want to believe that you could be such a fucking prick.”
“What’s wrong with needing space?”
“You don’t get to do this shit anymore. You’re a grown man. You’re almost married and you’ve got a baby on the way. No more of this broody teenager bullshit. At this rate, your kid is going to be a grown-up sooner than you are!” He banged the sculpture down loudly.
“I keep telling her that. I’m not fit to be a parent, but she’s not listening to me.”
Church snorted, his brows drawn low over his brown eyes. “All my life I’ve stood beside you while you struggled with things. Minnow came along, and I finally had some hope. You were actually fucking trying. And Rodrigo? Fuck. I thought that was never going to happen. You’re moving on. You’re healing from all the shit you went through as a kid. Now you’re going to give up everything you’ve gained, everything you’ve accomplished, because something unexpected happens? Most dads think they’ll be shitty parents. It’s normal. The fact that you’re worried about it means you’ll be just fine.”
“No child deserves to have my genetics. It’s not fair to expect me to be okay with this.”
Church laughed sadly. “It’s a done deal, Sev. If you won’t marry her because she might be carrying your child, that makes you a special kind of fucking asshole. You don’t get a do-over with this. Rodrigo is determined he’s marrying her today, with or without you. If you don’t show up you’re going to feel like the third wheel in their relationship for the rest of your life. No amount of brooding will get today back if you choose to fuck this up.”
He didn’t look up from his work and Church started to pace. “You’re hurting three of my four best friends, Severin, and I’m not cool with it. You, Rodrigo, Minnow. None of you deserve this.”
When the weld was finished, Severin pushed his goggles down and looked at his brother. Church was dressed in one of his crisp, expensive suits, wearing money as smartly as Rodrigo always did. Sometimes it was hard to remember this new Churchill was the same the kid who used to fistfight with him over who’d be stuck playing Luigi.
He swallowed down the angry retort that was trying to come out. Church knew him better than anyone, and he wouldn’t fall for Severin’s usual evasions disguised as verbal abuse.
Severin scratched at his scalp, needing either a shower or a swim, but he’d been hiding in the forge for days. So Church thought he was being childish. He wasn’t wrong.
“I’ve done everything else they wanted,” he said. “This? I can’t. It’s too much. I just can’t.”
“Because it might be your kid?”
“Because of Loïc, I think. Because at one time I thought maybe my kid wouldn’t inherit my bad wiring, but Loïc showed me that fucked up runs true with Leducs. I’ll never be able to look at the kid without wondering if she’ll hate me for bringing her into this world. Why make more people who don’t want to be here?”
“You don’t still want to die, do you?”
Severin shrugged, one shouldered. “Not usually. Today is hard.”
“The day Loïc kissed you was hard. I get that.”
He flicked his hand, wishing he could flick the memory away while he was at it. “That’s finished. He’s gone. I hope he’s dead.” It sounded harsh, but the wish was pity more than anger.
“The kid is a mess because of what he went through. Maybe he wasn’t as young as you when it started, but he was there longer, and things were weirder. He may be a train wreck, but he’s your brother.”
“I already have a brother. I don’t need two.”
“Having him isn’t being disloyal to me, even though I was being childish about it for a while,” Church said, slapping his shoulder.
Severin managed not to flinch, even though no one had touched him in days. It was scary how fast Minnow’s touch conditioning had worn off.
“You can care about more than a handful of people at a time. It sounded like Loïc was looking for someone to care about him, like you needed when you were a kid, like you need now.”
“I don’t need him.”
“No, but I think he needs you.”
“You like him so much? You be his brother. You have experience dealing with my shit, he should be easy.”
It wasn’t as if they knew where the kid had gone anyway. Rodrigo had looked for him for days, trying to make sure he was all right.
“What he did to you was wrong. It was assault.”
“It was weird and disgusting, but I’m already hooked up with a therapist, so it’s all good.” Hopefully Loïc would find someone to take him in hand. Severin had limited emotional resources, and he didn’t have any left over for a screwed-up kid like Loïc – and that was the problem.
“Rodrigo said Loïc was a drowning man who was going to pull me down with him. I cut him loose before he drowned us both.” Severin sank onto one of the work stools. “The kid Minnow is carrying will be just as messed up as we are, man. Then what am I supposed to do? I can’t fix myself, let alone save Loïc, or a kid who has all the same problems. We’ll be out here like a fucking messed-up sideshow. People will pay admission to gawk at my ugly weirdo kid.”
“It’s normal to be worried, but you have more money than Croesus. You have us, and Rodrigo’s family. Things will work out. Even if your kid has issues, you have the resources to get help. You and Loïc were abused by your mother. You won’t do that to your kid, and you’re not going to abandon her like they did to you.”
“Fuck. Just get out.”
Church’s gaze was full of love Severin didn’t want right then. “Go shower. At least if you’re clean, you’ll have the option to show up.”
He flipped off Church’s back as he left, then felt like an immature idiot for doing it. His brother was just trying to help, but even taking a shower seemed like he’d made up his mind, and he hadn’t. Not even close.
When the door closed behind his brother’s broad back, Severin fiddled with a few things, then sighed and shut off his equipment before heading for the beach. The day was sunny, but not too hot, and the breeze was pleasant. No one was by his lake, which he appreciated. He hadn’t been there since the drunk sex on the beach, and he was relatively sure he could still make out the vague indentation of Rodrigo’s hands and knees in the sand.
A mental slideshow of that day flipped through his mind. There would be no dwelling on what Loïc did at the lake when he had memories of Rodrigo and Minnow taking up so much more mental space. He remembered taking Minnow swimming here before they were even together. She’d stripped down to her underwear and jumped in with him, and he’d been so confused about what he wanted he’d reverted to being a jerk.
Now he was making her so sad.
He missed them.
They both came to the forge to check on him and drop off food a few times a day, and argue with him about the baby, but those short bursts of company weren’t good enough when he knew they were moving on and making plans without him. Wedding plans. Talking about baby names. They hadn’t stopped living just because he’d taken a step back, and he was jealous of what they were building together. All he had to do was show the fuck up.
He swam and washed the stink off himself, then dressed, not sure what to do next. The surface of the lake wanted to be smooth, but the breeze teased little ripples. A gull wheeled overhead, searching for a meal. Leaves rustled, and he let himself sink into the sound, tension draining for the first time in days. He let his mind empty.
Light footfalls. Minnow?
Tragic King (The Dominant Bastard Duology Book 2) Page 25
