Dreadnought (Nemesis #1)(80)
“Then tell me why?” he demanded. “I thought you weren’t that kind of girl.”
I opened my mouth to tell him everything—the truth—but before I could get the words out, my jaw snapped shut.
When I recited my reasons in my head, that was when I realized what I would say wasn’t much better. It wouldn’t excuse anything. I had promised that one night would be a one-time thing. Only now it was crumbling to pieces because of one stupid mistake.
Of course, he didn’t know about the huge crush I had held for the last ten years. He didn’t know how many nights I had dreamed about having the single opportunity to lie with him after hitting puberty, and how many hours I had spent thinking how nice it would be to live a life with him.
I had been in love with him for years from afar, knowing he would never have wanted this. And it all happened because of my selfish desire to have one night with him, because neither of us had a condom. I knew, if it hadn’t happened that night, I wouldn’t have had the same opportunity ever again. That was why I knew right then I couldn’t tell him any of that.
Noble was right. I had trapped him. Not on purpose, but I had trapped him into sleeping with me. And now I was trapping him with this. I couldn’t tell him the truth.
So, I lied.
“There was no reason,” I whispered, my voice as small as the size I felt. I was the smallest, most insignificant piece of dirt in the world. “I lied.”
With a harsh jerk of his chin, he turned and walked back inside, slamming the door shut behind him, accepting what I had said without a shadow of a doubt.
Who knew it would be the last time I ever saw him?
One
Hunter
Three and a half years later…
“Adair!”
The blond-haired child turned to face the woman who was calling him. He was in the front yard, his face covered in mud that couldn’t hide the distinct green eyes that stood out against the small square jaw he harbored beneath his baby fat.
He looked at the open doorway, and then at the worm in his hand with panic. Then he toddled over to the bushes and threw the worm into it just as his mother appeared in the doorway.
She took one look at his dirty face and hands, and scowled. “Adair Michael Ward,” she growled, stalking across the lawn to stand in front of him, hands set on the small curves of her waist, looking down with her disapproving mom stare.
Adair smiled, hiding his hands behind his back like she hadn’t seen him.
She raised an eyebrow before giving a heavy sigh and scooping the child up. “What have I told you about getting covered in mud?” She might have passed for mad had she not been trying to fight the light-hearted smile turning the corner of her lips.
Her eyes went soft with adoration at the child’s features. His happy smile was all that was needed to completely win her over.
“Sorry, Mommy.” Adair pouted.
Mallory May Ward narrowed her eyes. “Are you going to do it again?”
Adair shook his head with such force his chubby cheeks wobbled. “No.”
Mallory waited a few seconds before she caved, and at the change in her expression, the little rug rat slung his arms around her neck and squeezed.
After a few minutes of cuddling in the front yard, Mallory turned with her son in her arms and walked up the drive of the old Denver ranch house that was one accidental bump from collapsing.
Once they were inside, I fired up my engine and drove the last few feet toward the front of the house, pulling my liquid ink Harley up onto the driveway and cutting the engine.
From the corner of my eye, I saw a face dart from the window as I swung my leg off the back of the machine. My cut hung over the expanse of my back, my colors and patches clearly showing who I was. Or, at least who I belonged to.
I knew Mallory wouldn’t recognize me. She would, however, recognize the black-winged skull stamped on my back, and her reaction would be as I predicted.
I heard silence from the house that only moments ago had been filled with laughter, and as I approached the door, I heard the sharp click of the chain link behind it.
Like that would stop me.
I pressed my ear to the door and heard the soft patter of footsteps racing away from the door to the other side of the house. Then I lifted my boot and kicked, the door giving away under the force and swinging open, golden links scattering across the scratched wood-floored hallway.
I squeezed through the tiny doorway, stepping over the wreckage as I headed down the hallway. That was when I heard the slam of a door on the other side of the house.
Wasting no time, I marched down the short hallway where another corridor led me to three more doors. All were shut. I kept my ears on high alert as I checked each one in silence.
As I reached for door number two, I heard the kid’s muffled whimpers.
I grabbed the handle, and as I went to turn it, it jammed. Locked.
“Mallory!” I yelled through the door. “Unlock the door.”
No response.
“Open this damn door now, or I’ll bust it down myself.”
This time, her fear-strained voice came from beyond the door. “I’ll call the cops!”
“Then I’ll make sure they arrest you for kidnapping!” I returned.
“Bullshit!” she snapped back, surprising me.