Don't Speak (A Modern Fairytale, #5)(117)

He shrugged. “Tie up loose ends.”

“Your parents?” she asked, her eyes conflicted.

He nodded. “Yes. I need to confront them. I need to make it clear that you and Ava Grace are off-limits. Forever.”

He was lying on his back, naked, with Laire’s head on his chest. Holding her close with one arm, he stroked her hair with his free hand.

“What about . . . the future?”

“You mean us?” he asked.

“Mm-hm.”

“Well, I want you and Ava Grace in my life, but I don’t like the idea of you havin’ to see my parents on a regular basis. I don’t trust them. So that makes Raleigh a bad idea for us. I think I’ll relocate here for now.”

“To the Banks?” she asked, propping herself up to look into his face. “Are you sure?”

He pressed a swift kiss to her lips. “We need to be together. You’re here. I don’t want you there. So . . . yeah. The Banks. For now.”

“You’d do that for me?”

“Baby,” he said, “I’d do anything for you. Don’t you know that by now?”

She leaned up and kissed him passionately, though their lips were bruised and swollen from so much loving, and she’d winced as she pulled away.

“When will you be back?”

He sighed. He needed to speak to his parents, wrap things up at his job, figure out what to do with his apartment. But when he looked into her green eyes, he knew that more than three days away from her would be anguish. “Thursday.”

She nodded and smiled, lying back down on his chest. “Okay. Did I tell you my condo’s ready tomorrow? Mr. McGillicutty said the power would be back on by then.”

“Then that’s where I’ll go, darlin’. I’ll come straight home to you.”

Now, as he sped away from Laire and their daughter, it took all of his strength to stay the course and not turn the rental around. He didn’t want to leave them. Damn it, but he wished he could stay.

Seeking levelheaded counsel, he dialed Hillary’s number, letting it ring seven times before she picked up with a very groggy, “’lo?”

“Hills?”

“Erik?” She was instantly more alert. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Drivin’ back to the city now.”

She sighed, long and low. “Let me go to the other room. I don’t want to wake up Pete.” He heard some rustling and shuffling, and then Hillary’s voice again. “What happened? The last time I talked to you, you put that woman on the phone, and I didn’t—”

“I love her, Hills. I love her and she loves me too, and she’s goin’ to be in my life, so don’t call her ‘that woman’—call her Laire.”

“Well,” she said, sighing again. “I think you better tell me everythin’.”

An hour later, on Route 64 headed west, he wrapped up the story, pulling into the Speedway just west of Roper to gas up and grab a cup of coffee. Lots of sex and no sleep meant that his body was running on fumes.

“I can’t believe it,” Hillary was saying, as she’d probably said twenty-five times during his retelling of the past few days. “You have a daughter, Erik?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Are you sure you believe her?”

“A hundred percent positive. You’ll know when you see her. She’s my spitting image, Hills. Same eyes.”

“And Fancy . . . my God, I just . . . I can’t believe that she’d just—”

“Believe it. She did.”

His sister paused, and Erik stared out the windshield, wondering what she was gearing up to say.

“Will you hate me if I play devil’s advocate for a second?”

Erik unbuckled his seat belt. “The word devil is right enough.”

“You did lie to her. You let her believe that you and Van were an item that summer.”

“She still should have come and found me. She should have at least checked with me before throwin’ Laire out on her ass.”

He opened the car door, stepped over to the pump, and swiped his credit card.

“But, Erik, think about what you’re doin’–pickin’ a fight with them. I mean, Daddy’s awful powerful, and—”

He started the pump. “You’re on their side?!”

“No! No, of course not. I mean, I’m just worried about this. For you.”

“Well, don’t be,” he said. “I don’t intend to say much. Just to make it clear that they’re not welcome near me or my family.”

“Your . . . family?”

“Laire and Ava Grace.”

“Right, right. Oh, my God. I think it’s startin’ to sink in. You’re a daddy now.”

“And nothin’s goin’ to hurt my baby,” he said, opening the door to the convenience store and stepping inside. He beelined for the coffee counter and chose the largest cup.

Hillary was quiet for a long while before saying, “I wouldn’t trust her either. Fancy.”

“So you get it.”

“I do,” she said, though her voice was sad. “Call me? After it’s done?”

“I will,” he said. “I promise.”