I struggle to find words, just end up shaking my head instead. Of course, I don’t mind. I would pay good money to have that view one more time.
She takes small, tentative steps into the kitchen, like she’s waiting for a lion to attack. But her eyes roam my body as if she’s been starved of the sight. She settles in one of the two comfy chairs, folding her legs underneath her and pulling the T-shirt down to cover any exposed skin. I resist the urge to yell at her to stop.
“I suppose I’ve got some explaining to do.”
“You think?” The bite is still in my words.
Her breath leaves her body and her shoulders drop. “I have tried to tell you.”
“Yeah, you have, over the past week. What about the last three fucking years?”
“Do you honestly think I didn’t want you to know?” she snaps back.
“How the fuck am I meant to know what you wanted? You. Never. Fucking. Told. Me.” My teeth grit and I slam her tea down, spilling it all over the small table between the two chairs. “Fuck.” I swipe a cloth off the countertop and catch the drips before wiping up the rest of the mess my temper created.
Her hand reaches out and touches my trembling arm. “It’s okay, Noah.”
I whip my head around to her. “It’s okay? It’s far from o-fucking-kay.” She retracts her hand like a coiling snake. At the loss of contact, the anger drains my body of all energy, and I slump into the other chair, throwing the cloth to the floor. My legs spread and I clasp my hands behind my head.
“Look, I’m sorry. This is just a fucking lot to deal with.” That’s an understatement. She’s like a fucking earthquake rocking everything under my feet. She fidgets with the hem of the T-shirt and watches her fingers, as I resist the urge to take hold of them. For fuck’s sake, stop moving.
“It was the day you left me.” She lifts her eyes to mine and the agony swirling in them is painful to observe. I don’t know if she wants me to say something, but for once I decide it’s best to just let her talk. Her chest stutters as she draws in a breath.
“When Mac… when he… well, you know.” I watch as she visibly steels herself. “When he tried to rape me,” she begins.
Her gaze drops from mine and focuses back to her hands as they fiddle with the hem of the T-shirt. The rage in me resurfaces and bubbles in my chest. She pushed me away to protect me from that motherfucker, when I didn’t need it, putting her on the firing line. Which meant I couldn’t fucking protect her. She took that from me. I slam the lid on the boiling pot, keeping my mouth shut. I’ve done too much yelling without listening. I nod my head at her when she looks up, willing her to carry on, but not wanting to hear what she has to say.
Fucking listen.
“When I left your house the day before we broke up, I told him it was over. I just wanted you and I wanted that part of my life, Mac, to be history. While he was on tour it didn’t really matter that much, but I couldn’t pretend anymore once he was home.” She laughs a little. “I didn’t even know if you wanted me… not properly, not until the next day. But I already knew I was pregnant; I’d done a test. I’d skipped a period. I’m not sure how that happened, I mean, as you know, I was on birth control.”
Yeah, I knew. She was on the pill. We’d always had ‘safe’ sex with other partners but wanted to feel each other raw. We’d gotten checked out just to make sure nothing had slipped through the net. It all felt clinical at the time, but the reward was well fucking worth it. Through my anguish, I manage a smile, because I know very well how it happened, just not why. My dick twitches again, the inappropriate bastard.
“You’d asked me to leave him, and even if you hadn’t meant it, or didn’t want to be a part of our child’s life when you found out, I still couldn’t stay there anymore.”
She pulls her now tear-filled gaze away from her fingers and glances across at me. Fuck me. The urge to wrap her in my arms is almost overpowering. I pull my hands from my head and rub them down my thighs. She scans my face for a second before returning to her nervous picking.
I need to listen.
I replay the words in my head like a fucking mantra, hoping my brain can gain some control on my body.
She picks up her tea and stares into it before continuing.
“He’d threatened me. Told me he’d kill you if I didn’t stop seeing you.” She gives me a small smile. “But selfishly I couldn’t not see you one more time. I didn’t understand how unstable he was. What he was capable of. I obviously believed him, but…”
I can’t sit still any longer. I want to rip something apart. Keeping my thoughts in is killing me. The need to comfort her is fucking unbearable. She lifts her head to watch my movement as I begin pacing the kitchen.
“When I went home after we broke up, he was waiting for me. They’d cancelled the tour because of his issues. I was so stupid leaving the test in the bathroom wastebasket. Obviously, the father was you. It couldn’t have been anyone else.” She chokes the words out. When I turn to look at her, my chest constricts. Tears trail down her cheeks and drop from her chin. She finally takes a sip of her tea.
“When I was in labour I nearly caved and begged Layla to ring you. But what would I have said? Hi, Noah. It’s me. I’m having a baby. I know I’ve not told you about him, but come hold my hand anyway?”
I can’t keep quiet any longer and turn to face her. “I would’ve fucking come.” The words spat out through gritted teeth.
I would have, had I known. I would’ve held her hand. But I wouldn’t have been able to. She wouldn’t have got hold of me. Around that time I had hit rock bottom and begged Bear to let me go on a job. I had needed to gain control, and that was the only way I knew how.
“Yes, I know you would. But at what cost?” she snaps at me.
My brow furrows and I stop pacing as I try to figure out what she’s telling me. “I don’t understand.” I really don’t. I can’t justify her actions in my head.
She fidgets again like she’s uncomfortable in her own skin. “He didn’t just threaten you. He… told me he would either fuck or kick my baby out of me.”
Her baby. My son. Fuck.
“I guess raping me would have achieved that in his mind. Alex arrived just in time. He managed to pull Mac off of me.”
“Lizzie, who the fuck is Alex?”
She smiles at my obvious jealousy. “He worked for Mac, though I guess he was more my bodyguard than his.”
I manage to fight down the other questions surrounding her answer.
“I wanted to come to you after, but knew it was impossible. He had connections. While Mac was around, I wasn’t safe. Our son wasn’t safe. And neither were you.”
She should have fucking come to me; I wish she’d had. That bastard would have been dead a lot fucking sooner. If she’d known what sort of person I really am she would never have gone through any of this shit. But she didn’t know and now’s not the time to tell her.
Anger courses through me. That fucker kept her and my son from me. But I can’t blame her for staying away, for not calling me. The rest seems pointless now. Her reason for leaving, her reason for staying away, is now dead. She has lived in fear of the weakest man on the planet. Because a man who threatens a woman and a baby is a fucking coward and deserves to be six feet under. I want to hold her in my arms but she’s wrapped her arms around herself as a shield. She’s had enough.
I need to lighten the situation before she goes into meltdown mode. So I ask something, which for now is more important than pushing her further.
“What’s our son’s name?” The words sound odd coming from my lips, but they bring a warmth to my chest I never imagined I’d feel.
Relief spreads across her face along with a heart-warming smile. “Kai.”
Well, fuck me. She gave him my middle name.
The air sucks out of my lungs as I close the space between us. Unable to stop myself, I grasp under her arms, lift her up, and wrap her around me. My forehead dips into the nook of her neck and I breathe in her scent.