“You insolent little…do you know who I am?” he asked, sounding somewhat amused by my forwardness.
“I know,” I confirmed.
Rhys, apparently, had had enough of our going back and forth, and pulled me back by my hand before taking a threatening step in Pablo’s direction.
“I don’t want you here,” he hissed, his body tense.
I’d never seen him look so freakin’ scary. His voice, and the way he was staring at Pablo? This wasn’t the Rhys that I’d come to know and love. This was an altogether different person. One that, in all honesty, was quite panty-melting.
Had we not been in the current situation that we found ourselves in…yeah, I could totally get off on this scarier him.
But, the moment that Pablo took that step forward, every single man in the hallway that I’d assumed was there for Pablo’s personal protection started heading our way.
Pablo held up his hand, and each man stilled.
I turned my back on Pablo, placing myself back to back with Rhys.
At least I’d be able to warn him a little bit if this went south.
Which, I had a feeling, might very well happen.
The closest one was a big bruiser of a man, and he didn’t look Italian at all. In fact, I would’ve pegged him for a Russian with his shaved head and Slavic features.
The one currently watching the back of Rhys’ head like he wanted to put a bullet in it? Yeah, that one was definitely Italian. He had the same dark, good looks. He was also not stopping like Pablo had asked, and I felt my belly clench.
“Leave.”
Rhys’ voice vibrated against me from where our backs touched, and I shivered slightly.
The movement caught the man’s attention that was creeping toward us, and I watched as his eyes flicked over and down to study my face. When he caught me watching, he stilled.
What, did he think that I wasn’t going to protect my man’s back?
Sure, a couple of months ago, I never would’ve dreamed I’d be in this situation, but that was where I was at now. Rhys was now my husband, and for better or worse, he was mine.
This, apparently, was one of those worse times.
I’d protect him no matter what.
Because even if he didn’t love me, I loved him.
I loved him before he’d even woken from his coma if I was being honest with myself.
“I’ll leave,” I heard Pablo croon. “After you tell your wife what has to happen next.”
Rhys didn’t so much as stiffen. “My wife knows all. She knows everything that has to be done from this point forward, and trust me, she’s up for the challenge. Now leave.”
Pablo sighed, and I heard his lighter close. “You used to be such a sweet little boy. What happened?”
“What happened was that I learned that you were front and center when it came to my father’s untimely death, that’s what. Now, fuckin’ leave before I make you,” Rhys growled.
My belly clenched and I tried not to squirm.
I really, really shouldn’t find this so arousing.
I really shouldn’t.
Jesus Christ, what was wrong with me? I literally had four possible murderers ready to take me out, and I was getting horny?
God.
I was so going to hell.
“See you in ten months, Monkey,” Pablo said. “Boys.”
Every single ‘boy’ moved as one, and the one that’d been giving me the stink eye growled low in his throat. “Michael, no.”
‘Michael’ crossed his arms over his chest. “Yes, Uncle.”
I rolled my eyes.
Michael caught the move, and his eyes narrowed.
Well, apparently, I wasn’t going to be making any friends tonight.
Great, I’d offended the man.
Not.
When Rhys moved to the side so the rest of the men could get on the elevator, Rhys gave the man a cool glance.
“Hurry up, Michael,” Rhys drawled. “Do Pablo’s bidding like a good dog.”
Whoa.
Michael lunged for Rhys, but Rhys didn’t hesitate.
One second, he was standing beside me, calm, cool and collected. The next, he’d reared back one fist and let it fly directly in the man’s face.
Michael went down hard, and Pablo sighed.
“Get him. Let’s go.”
Then they were dragging Michael into the elevator, and Rhys and I were standing side by side watching the doors close.
Rhys opened and closed his hand as if it’d hurt to punch Michael, and I reached for it, bringing it up to my face to inspect it.
His first two knuckles had tiny cracks in them, and despite the blood now oozing at the edges, he appeared to be okay. We just had to apply pressure until we got the bleeding under control.
“That wasn’t smart,” I murmured, eyeing the knuckles and wrapping them in a bandana he produced from his front pocket.
He closed his hand around both of mine and tugged on them lightly.
I looked up at him to see his eyes boring into mine.
“I’m sorry.”
I smiled. “I’m fine, Rhys. I know that that wasn’t ideal, but we both knew it was bound to happen.”
And I had.
He’d told me that at some point, his uncle was going to come check me out.
I just hadn’t expected it to happen the day that his sister gave birth to a baby, and we’d traveled halfway across the United States.
“I don’t agree. I’d always planned on being there. I’m truly sorry for him. I should’ve known.” He sighed, then let my hand go to bring his hand up to his face. His thumb and forefinger went to the bridge of his nose as he pinched it slightly. “And now I have to talk to you some more…I was hoping to ease you into this but…”
“But…”
I had a feeling that I wasn’t going to like what was about to come out of his mouth.
“There might’ve been one other teeny tiny little matter that I forgot to discuss with you.” He looked like he’d rather cut his hand off than tell me what that ‘teeny tiny little matter’ was.
I gave him a droll look. “Just tell me. It can’t be any worse than what I’ve already figured out.”
“We have to have a baby within a year, or he gets all the money.”
I blinked. “You…we…what?”
He nodded.
“Why didn’t you tell me this?” I asked. “This is one of those things that we probably should’ve talked about ahead of time…”
He shrugged. “There’s a loophole.”
I frowned. “What kind of loophole?”
I was almost afraid to ask.
“I don’t have to actually get you pregnant. I just have to produce an ‘heir.’ I can find a surrogate…”
For some reason, just those words alone were enough to make me see red.
“I will be the one having your baby, thank you very much,” I snarled.
He looked nervous.
“I was thinking that, too…but there’s a problem. What if you don’t get pregnant as fast as we need you to? Which is why I think we should have a surrogate carry our baby. Two of them, in fact.”
I blinked.
“You want some other woman to have our baby…two other women? You want them to have our babies?”
He nodded.
“But…”
My mind was whirling with the bomb that he’d just dropped at my feet.
“I have a year, honey. I have nothing against knocking you up. Far from it…but I can’t let Pablo win. I can’t. So…I have to hedge my bets. I have to have a backup plan in place that will ensure I don’t lose.”
Then I lost my temper. “Rhys, honey, these are babies. They’re not pawns!”
He looked disgusted with himself, and I realized rather quickly that he was no happier about this situation than I was.
Which immediately had my ire cooling down from
a boil to a mere simmer.
He grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me down the hall.
He didn’t stop until we were in the bathroom, as far away from everyone and everything as we could get.
Then he leaned in until his face was a scant inch from mine.
“Tell me, Henley, what you think I should do? Because from where I’m standing, giving up sounds real fuckin’ easy right now.”
Chapter 22
Remember when you were little and you fell on the trampoline while everyone else kept jumping and you couldn’t get up? Yeah, that’s adulthood.
-Rhys to George
Rhys
I hadn’t wanted her to know this secret just yet. I wanted to enjoy a freakin’ week without dropping this bomb.
There were a hundred other things I should be thinking about right now.
I shouldn’t be forced to do this. I shouldn’t have to do it to avenge my father. Normal people didn’t have to do things like this. Normal people, if they suspected their father of being murdered, would’ve gone to the police.
But I wasn’t a normal person.
I never had been, and never would be.
“Oh, Rhys,” she whispered, putting her hand on my face.
I closed my eyes and felt like the weight of the world was on my shoulders.
I didn’t want to be forced to take this path, but I had been.
I didn’t want to have that money to deal with in the future. I was doing just goddamn fine on my own.
Yet, I didn’t have a choice.
I couldn’t let Pablo win.
I couldn’t and wouldn’t.
I’d do whatever it took, and unfortunately, that extended to Henley doing whatever it took, too.
She didn’t like what we had to do…and I didn’t either. But, short of killing Pablo, which I just wouldn’t do, I was in between a rock and a hard place.
Chapter 23
What the fuck are birds so excited about at five in the morning?
-Asking for a friend
Rhys
“You’ve never been to a concert?” I asked, dumbfounded.
She shook her head.
“The loud noises mess with my hearing.” She shook her head. “I have to remove my transmitter because it’s just so loud. If I don’t, then by the time I’m done my head is spinning, and it hurts to even have the receiver in for days. It just doesn’t seem worth it.”
I’d never once thought about it.
Renata had, of course, gone to concerts. She’d never been affected by that as Henley had.
It’d never once occurred to me when I got these tickets that she wouldn’t be able to enjoy the show. Now I felt like a complete worthless tool.
“I…” I hesitated. “I don’t know what to say.”
She shrugged.
“I tried it once in high school by going to the school talent show. I’ll never make that mistake again.” She hesitated. “But I still want to go with you. I’d love to go. The concerts are now required to have an interpreter at all concerts due to the Americans With Disabilities Act. Plus, this is a team function. It’d look weird if your wife didn’t attend with you.”
I grimaced.
I knew that. Unfortunately, from what I remembered, the interpreters were definitely not all that great.
They showed music using a sign, and one sign. They repeated that sign over and over again.
My sister had commented about it when we’d gone to a concert for the first time and laughed about it because she was glad that she could actually hear the words being sung rather than having to rely on the interpreter.
Shit, I’d really screwed up.
I’d really wanted to take her out, show her off, and introduce her to my teammates as well as their wives.
I’d thought that taking her to this concert, one of her favorite bands she’d told me, would be a good way to show everyone that we were together—other than hearsay based on what little the press had been able to garner from when I’d hauled Henley off the field after being hurt my first game back.
That, and I wanted to do something really nice for her before I upended her life tomorrow.
But I wouldn’t subject her to something that she didn’t enjoy.
I’d just have to find her something else that she wanted to do.
Tomorrow was the big day. The day that we met with a doctor about surrogacy.
Henley hadn’t wasted any time. The moment we’d gotten home from visiting my sister and her new little baby, she’d started research.
Then she’d had a talk with each doctor’s office and had chosen a few based on reviews, medical awards, and word of mouth.
I hadn’t even realized that she’d done all the leg work until she’d come back and given me two doctors to choose from.
After I’d chosen one, she’d then gone ahead and made the appointment—for later that week—three days from then. Two days had sped by so fast that I wasn’t nearly as prepared as I thought I was.
In fact, I was downright nervous.
It wasn’t every day that you started the process of getting not one baby made, but two.
“Rhys?”
I turned to find Henley staring at me.
“Yeah?”
“Are you okay?” she asked, looking worried.
I nodded, shaking my head to straighten it out.
I was getting a headache. One that I knew would likely not feel too great by the end of the night—but that was par for the course at this point in my life. I’d be more surprised if I didn’t have a headache by the end of each day.
Chapter 24
I don’t always act my age, but when I do, it’s fucking boring.
-Coffee Cup
Henley
“Normally we deposit two fertilized embryos in each surrogate. However, if you choose, we can add up to three, or leave it at just one. We’re not willing to do any more than three embryos, though. Since you’re doing two…I would suggest keeping it at two or less,” Dr. Cane said, his eyes moving from me to Rhys and back. “Are you sure that you want to do two surrogates?”
We both nodded.
“In that case, we can start this entire process as early as next week. We actually have three surrogates right now that had started the hormone therapy for an elderly couple out of Dallas, but the man suffered a heart attack and they decided to hold off. If you’re willing, you can go with two of those. If you’re not willing to take two of those three, you’ll have to, of course, choose your surrogate. We have a list of surrogates here you can choose from, or you can choose your own. Whatever you feel most comfortable with,” Dr. Cane continued. “That process of getting them into the regimen and hormone therapy can take upwards of three months.”
I looked over at Rhys.
I didn’t know anyone that could or would be a surrogate. That left it up to Rhys or the list that the doctor had. And I was fairly sure if we didn’t go with two of the three that were already ready for the embryos to be placed, that might be pushing it for us. A year was a very short span of time.
“I think we’ll be more comfortable going with a surrogate that’s been vouched for. With me being a professional baseball player, I’m unsure that I want to find someone on my own just in case this gets out.” He paused. “I’m sure there’s plenty of people out there that would love to hold this over my head in hopes of gaining something.”
Dr. Cane didn’t even blink. “You’re not the first client that feels that way. Every surrogate we have has been professionally vouched. A full FBI background check has been done on each, all you have to do is choose the one that you’re most comfortable with.”
Five minutes later, Rhys and I were standing out in the hallway that led from Dr. Cane’s office.
“Well? What do you want to do?” I asked quietly.
He looked at me with defeat in his eyes. “I don’t think we really have a choice. We have to use them. Three m
onths could be too late.”
He was right. It could.
***
Overall, it took us a month to get everything ready to go.
The two donors that we’d chosen had continued their hormone therapy while I started one of my own to help with egg production.
The day before Rhys’ first playoff game, after various tests and a verification that I wasn’t pregnant myself, we found ourselves back in Dr. Cane’s office once again.
Me to have eggs harvested, and Rhys to deposit his offerings in a sterile cup that would be used to fertilize my eggs.
Rhys was up first.
Since we’d both decided to be present for the other’s time in the office, Rhys had to go first because I had to be sedated for my procedure.
“All right, boys and girls,” the nurse said as she led us to a private room. “Yell if you need anything.”
With that parting comment, the nurse closed the door, leaving us in a plain white exam room with an exam table, a couple of strategically placed porno magazines, and two specimen jars.
“Wow,” I said, walking over to the couch and bending over. “They really went high end with these magazines.”
Rhys walked up to me and nudged the magazine with his sneaker-covered toe. “How many men do you think picked that up and jacked off with it in their hands?”
I didn’t want to know.
In fact, now that he said something, I realized that everything in there, even the couch, had a plastic cover on it.
“How exactly do they expect you to get hard in a place like this?” he questioned, staring with a bit of horror at the plastic couch.
I started to giggle. “That’s why I’m here, silly.”
We’d been married for a month, one week, and a day exactly. And in that month, week, and a day, I’d come to realize something.
I was beginning to think that Rhys actually had feelings for me.
Obviously, he liked me well enough. And more than obviously, he was sexually attracted to me.
But there was always that niggling thought at the back of my mind that he wasn’t there because he truly wanted to be.
At least, that thought had been there before we’d started this process.
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