Dylan (Dark Legacy Book 4)

by Jaymin Eve

  My eyes widened in shock. "How did you—”

  "You don't risk Blake's ire to sneak out for a coffee date with girlfriends," she replied with a wry laugh. "It was obvious—to me—that you'd met someone. So, will you tell me about him, and what he's done to get you so worked up?"

  I groaned and rubbed a hand over my face. But I wanted to talk to Mary about this. All of this. If not her, then who?

  "Fine." I sighed. "His name is Dylan. Dylan Grant."

  Mary stiffened opposite me, probably because she knew exactly who I was talking about, seeing as she’d obsessively collected magazines featuring the Delta Heirs. She was practically a fangirl for the five of them.

  It had always made me chuckle, what with my own obsession, and I never judged.

  She blinked a couple of times, shocked, then pulled a bottle of wine out of the cupboard and poured herself a glass. Then she paused and gave me a small frown.

  "Would you like one too?" Her offer was hesitant, like she wasn't totally sure if I drank or not.

  I shook my head, my face flaming. "Um, no. Thanks. I can't drink." I paused, nerves fluttering through my chest. "I'm pregnant."

  She dropped the glass, and while I watched it descend to the ground and smash, throwing glass shards everywhere, Mary gaped at me, her mouth just slightly parted, those pretty hazel eyes of hers wide and glassy.

  "Mary!" I said, hoping I hadn't broken her with my confession. "What is it? What's wrong? I'm not unhappy about the baby, if that's what you're worried about. I might be young, but I will be the best version of myself for my baby. I can do it."

  "You're having Dylan Grant's baby?" she whispered.

  I nodded, still having no idea what had her so stunned. This was more than a fangirl finding out about my close proximity to the Delta Five. This was something much more.

  "Mary, do you know the Delta heirs?"

  She swallowed hard, and my heart clenched in my chest when her eyes went misty, a single tear escaping.

  "You're starting to scare me." Why wasn't she talking? What the hell was going on here?

  "Sorry,” she shook her head and cleared her throat. “I do have history with them. I used to be a nanny for one of their families, and it brought back some memories."

  The word nanny triggered me, and now I was the one opening and closing my mouth in shock. I hadn't forgotten the story Ben told me. Dylan's birth mom had been a nanny, and now Mary was telling me she’d been a damn nanny for Delta. And as I stared at her gorgeous dark skin and hazel eyes with the exact same green in them that Dylan had, I almost freaked out. Was Dylan's bio-mom the same woman who had been a surrogate mom to me as well...?

  Was there a chance that Dylan and I had been connected all along? Long before we’d ever met?

  Just as I started to ask, she shook her head again, like she wasn’t ready to talk. Instead, she grabbed some cleaning supplies and spent the next few minutes cleaning the glass up, all the while chattering inanely about everything under the sun. Except her literal son. I mean, I was pretty much making educated assumptions now, but it was clear Mary wasn't ready to discuss it yet.

  And I respected her enough to allow her this chance to get herself together. It wasn't up to me to force a confession from Mary. I'd wait forever for her to be ready, but something told me Dylan wouldn't.

  Maybe he'd never show up and she could continue in her sweet denial. Something truly terrible must have happened to make her leave her child. She was the most motherly, kind, and wonderful person I'd ever known, and I'd thought so many times over the years that it was a shame she didn't have children of her own.

  "I need to get you some dinner," she said in a huff. "And you need to order some prenatal vitamins. And... my goodness, we have a lot to worry about."

  Untucking my legs, I stood and wrapped my arms around her. "It's going to be okay," I whispered. "I have vitamins. And I'm not very hungry. I just need some rest."

  I explained the rest of my injuries and the doctor’s recommendation of lots of bed rest for at least another few days. "I'll be good by Christmas, as long as there's no more bleeding."

  "Okay, sweetheart. Then let's get you into bed, and I will take care of everything else."

  I could tell she needed to stay busy, so I allowed her to fuss over me, tuck me into bed, and I drank the juice and water she left on my bedside table. This continued on through the night as she checked on me, brought me chamomile tea with honey, and mothered the shit out of me.

  This was the first time ever we were freely allowed access to each other, to the food, and to the rest of the house. We freaking loved it. By the time morning arrived, when I woke feeling refreshed, Mary already had the locks and alarms changed. She'd also switched our phone numbers and was in the process of obtaining Blake's death certificate so we could get all the assets put legally into my name.

  "New lawyers will handle it all,” she said. “I believe you are the sole shareholder left in the company, and the only legal heir, so it should be a simple enough process.”

  I nodded, swallowing the last bite of my scrambled eggs. Thankfully, this morning my stomach was cooperating, and I had to wonder if it hadn’t been the stress, more than anything else, that’d had me so off food before now. "Okay, great. It's good that his body was found."

  She’d told me all about it last night, and I’d read the news articles. No doubt Dylan had thought of ease of discovery when he'd disposed of Blake so publicly—lion's cage at the zoo, of all places. My brother’s final moments were as a lion’s chew toy, and according to the report Mary got, there really wasn’t that much of him left, except the skull, making a positive ID on the bastard straightforward. Dylan was nothing if not creative, and honestly, it should freak me out that he could cold-bloodedly murder someone. But I had no issue with that side of him at all.

  Protecting your own was exactly what I’d always wanted from a family, and now my baby would have that tenfold. Delta Five played for keeps, and they would fuck anyone up who tried to hurt their inner circle.

  "The police do want to speak with you," Mary warned me. "It's an open investigation, but if the murder went down the way I expect it did, their interest will dry up quickly."

  Yeah, Delta money made a lot of shit disappear. Neither of us would be surprised if the “loss of interest” happened before the police even showed up on my doorstep. "Tell them I'm fine to chat whenever they want. There's surely no way they could suspect me. I haven't seen my brother for weeks."

  Thanks to Blake erasing all signs of him being at the hospital, I was going to live happily ever after, no longer caught in his bullshit.

  There was honestly no better revenge than that.

  29

  The next morning, Mary woke me with a stunned look on her face. She was clearly in shock again, but not quite as intensely as when she'd found out I was pregnant.

  "What's wrong?" I asked, pushing myself up.

  "There was a delivery for you."

  I blinked at her, still a little disoriented. "Okay, do I need to sign for it?"

  She shook her head. "No, but you should come and see it."

  Now she had all of my interest. Dragging myself out of bed, I moved slowly at first, allowing my ribs and injuries to warm up. As desperate as I was to see this delivery, I had to pee and brush my teeth first, but I didn't waste time on anything else. As I hurried down the stairs, holding on tightly to the handrail, Mary was right behind me.

  When I rounded the curve of the staircase, allowing me to see the large front foyer, I stopped dead in my tracks. "Oh my god."

  I just stood there blinking at the sight, wondering if I was imagining shit. But, nope, I was seeing it all very correctly.

  The entire room was filled with plants in a variety of pots.

  The sights and scents of so many different sizes and species was the most incredible and intoxicating thing I'd ever experienced, and as I slowly made my way down the rest of the stairs, I started to recognize some of the plants.
>
  "Edible flowers and trees," I murmured. "I don't..." My throat closed over, and I couldn't finish.

  Mary handed me an envelope, and my hands trembled as I took it from her. "Dylan?" she asked.

  I swallowed hard, feeling overwhelmed. After fumbling with the envelope, I pulled out a thick, high-quality card, and I knew immediately the masculine slash of writing had been done by Dylan himself.

  For one of my favorite days.

  I read the line over and over. It was a simple one, no declaration of love, but it meant so much to me that he thought about the day we'd spent in the forest together, learning and laughing. Before he’d known about the baby. Before there’d been any obligation to form a pseudo-family with me.

  "There are pine trees over here," Mary exclaimed, and I was reminded she had asked a question.

  "It's from Dylan," I confirmed sounding teary. "At camp, he taught me survival skills, including what edible plants could save your life. Most of them weren't there in the forest, since it’s winter, but... I think this is every plant he taught me about." From the most beautiful wildflowers to herbs to fruiting shrubs.

  It was so thoughtful, and it meant so much more to me than if he'd just filled the space with bunches of roses. This was a literal representation of a moment we’d had together.

  Mary clapped her hands together. "How romantic. I'll hire a gardener to plant them all somewhere once we’ve ripped out a few of Blake's backyard monstrosities."

  I chuckled, slowly recovering from my shock. I needed to contact Dylan and thank him for this gift, but part of me still wasn't ready. I missed him so much, and I knew if I allowed it to happen, I'd lose myself in Dylan Grant. But losing myself before I'd even figured out how to live would do neither of us any favors. I had to be strong.

  A quick text would work though.

  Me: Your gift arrived. Thank you. That day meant a lot to me as well.

  This was my new phone with a brand new number. I hadn't given the new number to anyone yet. Dylan was the first, and it was my way of gifting him something as well: an opening back into my life. If he wanted it.

  Baby steps.

  Dylan: Look outside.

  Outside? There was a lot of outside on this estate, but I headed for the front entrance first. When I stepped out the door, it was to find my second surprise of the day. In the driveway with a huge white bow on top of it, was a dark burgundy SUV—a familiar looking one, similar to the car Dylan had driven me to the hospital in.

  Half in shock, I walked forward slowly and ran my hand lightly over the shiny front. A letter had been stuck under the windshield wiper, tucked into the exact same envelope that had come with the plants.

  The car was so massive I had to get on tiptoes to reach it, then I dragged it back to me. Mary was at my side again, and she shook her head. "How did he get this delivered through our security gates?" She didn't sound impressed. "I need to get them reprogrammed again."

  I didn't bother to argue with her, but I knew that nothing would keep Dylan out if he wanted in. After pulling out the expensive cardstock, I found a single line again.

  For the worst day of my life, which led to finding out the best news of my life.

  Jesus. I was actively crying now, tears streaming down my cheeks. For the most part, I didn’t want to remember when Ruth and Ben had died and I’d almost lost our baby, but I really did appreciate his acknowledgement that he was happy to find out about his child.

  Right? This had to mean that.

  Swiping tears from my face, I swallowed heavily and pulled myself together.

  "He shouldn't have done this," I said with a sigh. "Not only do I not want his overly expensive gifts—I don't need them—but he can't just go trespassing whenever he likes."

  Mary's brows rose at my rapid change of emotions, but she didn't disagree. Instead, she nodded and folded her arms. "Well, you’d better set some boundaries with him quickly, girl. I get the feeling Dylan Grant is fairly used to doing whatever the hell he wants, consequences be damned."

  “You seem to have his personality nailed,” I said drily. I paused after that, giving her a chance to confess to me if she wanted.

  She didn’t, shrugging like she’d just been guessing. I sensed the day wasn’t too far away when her past and present would collide—thanks to me and my baby daddy. I hoped it would provide a little closure or, maybe, a new beginning for both of them.

  Only time would tell, but I'd be at her side no matter which way it went.

  "Hey, how about we go shopping?" Mary suggested. "Your awful brother all but strangled the magic right out of Christmas these past few years. You're well overdue for some of the Christmas experience."

  Her idea stunned me speechless for a moment, but she was right. My mom had loved Christmas, and the whole house had always been decorated like a Hallmark movie. But since her and Dad had died... Christmas had no longer existed in the Lawson household.

  "Sounds great," I agreed with a wide smile. "I'll go change."

  Mary nodded. "Excellent. I'll get those gates reprogrammed and meet you out front. We can take your new car."

  My brows shot up in surprise, and she just shrugged.

  "I know you’re confused about how to act—where to be independent and where to let yourself be cared for. Let me tell you that you can do both. I promise. You won’t lose yourself by allowing Dylan to treat you like the queen you are.”

  I had to swallow hard again, my hormones in no position to handle this conversation dry-eyed. Mary was so right about how I’d been feeling.

  She placed her hand on my arm, squeezing gently. “In truth, your man bought you a very thoughtful, meaningful gift, if your tears are anything to judge off. It'd be straight up rude to return it. Go on, dress warm. I'll take care of things down here." She shooed me up the stairs, and I ran up, feeling like each step was made of clouds.

  This was quickly turning into the best Christmas in history.

  When I returned back downstairs in a pair of jeans, a warm top, and flat boots, Mary was standing on the front steps with her phone to her ear. Her face was drawn, and her fingertip tapped nervously on the back of the phone as she listened and murmured the occasional sound of agreement.

  It worried me, but I wasn't rude enough to interrupt. Instead, I waited quietly while she finished the call, then tucked the phone away into the pocket of her coat.

  "Ready to go?" she asked with a forced smile.

  I nodded, following her down the steps to the car with my coat folded over my arm. The keys were already in the ignition, and I nervously slid into the driver's seat. Blake had never let me have my own car, but Mary had made sure I'd been enrolled in driver's ed at school, so I had my learners permit.

  But I was far from a confident driver, that was for sure. Mary's tense behavior only made me more anxious, too.

  "Is everything okay?" I asked in a small, cautious voice as I crawled down the driveway in my new vehicle.

  Mary jerked her eyes toward me, like I'd just pulled her out of a daydream. "Hmm? Oh, yes. Sorry, that was... nothing. Nothing to worry about, anyway. I was thinking maybe we could check out the bakery on Sussex Street. I drove past there yesterday, and they were doing gingerbread house–making classes. You need to stay off your feet as much as possible, and I think it will be fun."

  I bit my lip, still worried, but nodded anyway. "Sounds amazing. You're too good to me, Mary."

  She reached out and patted my hand. "Someone has to be, Brooklyn. And you deserve all the love in the world; you're a good person, in spite of all the world has thrown at you."

  Oh fuck, more tears were burning at my eyeballs.

  "Enough of that," Mary scolded. "We're having a magical Christmas Eve, Brooklyn."

  She wasn't wrong about that. I had a hard time imagining how my day could have possibly gotten any better, but Mary made it happen.

  30

  We didn't return to the house until well into the evening, and the only mark on my whole day was the fa
ct that I hadn't heard from Dylan again. I'd texted him again while I got dressed in the morning, thanking him for the car and asking him to please not trespass again. He'd replied with an apology but then... nothing else.

  At least twenty times throughout the day, I'd opened our message thread, wanting to talk to him, then totally blanked on what to say. I was so damn confused about where we stood. Our fight the other day at the Delta house... then the thoughtful gifts this morning... I had no clue what we were now.

  The ache in my chest as I parked my new car, though, told me I also wasn't content with just... friendly. I wanted more. I wanted Dylan Grant to fall madly in love with me. Me. Not with the woman carrying his child, but with Brooklyn Lawson. The gifts today, how they represented moments that were important to both of us, had made me feel like maybe he'd been heading that way, and I had so many feels about it.

  But then radio silence.

  "You need to get into bed," Mary said as we entered the front door. "Rest up as much as possible before tomorrow."

  I hadn't been mothered in so long, but I actually loved all of her worry. "You made me ‘sit a spell’ every ten steps," I teasingly reminded her, "but yes, I do need to rest up so we can do all the Christmas things tomorrow."

  Mary looked pleased with herself as she opened the front door, but whatever she had been planning to say was lost in my gasp. The room was dimly lit, but the flash of Christmas lights was my first indication that I wasn't about to walk into the same room we'd left behind.

  The front entrance, which had been filled with the edible plants when we left, was now a Hallmark movie.

  "Mary?" I said breathlessly. "You did this?"

  The room was dominated by a huge tree, real and so green that even in the low, twinkling lights of the flashing Christmas decorations, the color popped. The woodsy scent of pine surrounded us, and I was transported back to my childhood in a flash of memory.