Written with You (The Regret Duet #2)(36)

I opened my mouth, but he lifted his hand.

“I read the journals. I know she had her reasons. But I’ve seen Caven with Rosalee, so I know there is a difference between struggling and giving up. Several times since she was born, Caven has needed help, but you would have to pry that child from his lifeless arms before he’d ever let her go.”

My chest got tight. He definitely had a point there. Hadley had had her problems, but she’d absolutely given up on her daughter. She hadn’t spent the four years after Rosalee was born lost in the past, unable to see through the fear. She’d laughed. She’d painted beautiful pictures. She’d had boyfriends. She’d gone to rehab. She’d relapsed. She’d been obsessed with the nonexistent woman from the mall. She’d traveled to and from Puerto Rico to visit me. She’d lived a full life, all while her child had been out there living one without her.

His hand came down on my shoulder. “You didn’t do those things, Willow. You could have come back like a raging tornado, fighting for custody, dragging Caven through the mud, and using every resource you had to take Rosalee. But you didn’t. You tiptoed in and made paper flowers at his dining room table. I don’t like the lies you told, but I don’t have any reason to hate you, either.”

I bit my bottom lip. Damn, why did that feel so good? “Thank you. That means a lot.”

“He doesn’t hate you, either, ya know.”

“Yeah. He’s mentioned that. But then, shortly after, he said he wanted to forget me, so I’m not holding out hope that things between us are going to change any time soon.”

He shrugged. “With fifteen years of experience dealing with Caven Hunt, I can tell you that you need to pick a box. Your name is Willow, but you’re still the Hadley that came back. Make him remember that. He’s confused.” He smiled again, his hand leaving my shoulder to tuck inside the pocket of his slacks, and he lowered his voice to a whisper. “Un-confuse him.”

“How?” I begged. “Just tell me how?”

“Now, that I don’t know. I’ve personally never tried to make him fall in love with me.” He winked and dipped his chin. “Have a good weekend, Willow.”

“You too,” I managed to croak as I watched him walk away.

He’d said a lot of words. Most of which I understood, but the concept of un-confusing Caven after all the hell I’d put him through seemed impossible.

But maybe he’d said it best…

Our entire lives were one impossibility after another.

I could make him remember that I was still the same woman who eye-fucked him from across the room, curled into his lap every chance I got, and laughed with him over cheesecake. I could fit into whatever box he wanted me to as long as it got me him.

Things might have changed, but I was still me.

Only, as I walked out of the store that day with renewed hope infusing me, I realized that I’d never truly be me while the world still thought I was Hadley Banks.

I’d just loaded the final gallon of bleach in to my trunk when a man’s hand collided with my throat and shoved me into the back of my car. The mop jabbed me in the side as I crashed down, but I couldn’t even scream around his hold on me.

“You fucking cunt,” he rumbled. “What did you tell him?” Panic consumed me, but from his blond goatee to his buzz cut, he didn’t trigger the first memory for me.

“Let me…go,” I grunted, clawing at his wrist.

He gave me a hard shove, my head banging against the tire well on the inside, but he finally released me.

I gasped for oxygen. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He laughed without humor. “After everything I did for you. This is the way you fuck me over? Well, guess what, Hadley? I can fuck you ten times harder.”

Hadley.

Of course.

He loomed over me as I balanced half in and half out of my small trunk area.

“Where is it?” he growled. “Where the fuck is it?”

My pulse thundered in my ears as I shook my head. “I don’t know. I’m not Hadley. I’m—”

“Swear to God, woman. Don’t try this bullshit with me. Your fucking sister is dead. I checked. You can only pretend to be Willow so many times before your act gets stale. I let you drag me into this, but I’m not letting you hang my ass out to dry.” He picked my purse up and dug through my wallet to remove my ID. “Yeah right, you’re not fucking Hadley.”

I let out a scream, lifting my hands in defense as he reared back and threw my purse at me. It hit me square in the face, the buckle on the front clocking me on the cheek.

“Hey!” a man yelled. “Get away from her.”

My attacker looked up and quickly started to shuffle away as he shoved my ID into his pocket. “I’ll swing by your place on Sunday, and I swear to God, if you don’t have that fucking flash drive, it’s your head that’s going to roll, not mine.” His feet beat the pavement as he took off at a dead sprint.

Almost immediately, another man appeared. But this one I recognized. As soon as I saw Ian, whatever strength I was holding on to crumbled.

“Oh, God,” I croaked.

He helped me to my feet and pulled me straight into a tight embrace. “Shhh, it’s okay. Just relax. He’s gone.” His hand glided up and down my back. “Do you know who that was?”