DONOVAN (Gray Wolf Security, #1)(92)

She rested her head against my chest for a long second and then took a deep breath.

“Alright. Get out of my way. Let me finish getting dressed so we won’t be late.”

*****

The courthouse was as busy as ever. We made our way through the metal detectors and headed upstairs to where our hearing would take place. We stepped off the elevator, Libby on my right, her hand in mine, Julia on my left. I automatically looked for a familiar face: Finn, JT, or Penelope. I spotted Penelope’s lawyer ducking into one of the small consultation rooms. A funny feeling worked its way through my chest as I wondered who he was talking to in there. Were they coaching JT? Were they trying to influence his testimony?

I couldn’t make myself believe that. But I still felt uneasy.

And then the elevator door opened again and Finn stepped out. My mother beside him.

“Harry,” Libby began as tension soared through me, tightening my grip on her hand.

“What is she doing here?”

“I called her.”

I jerked my hand back, staring at my sister as if I could find something there that would explain why she would stab me in the back in this way.

“I made it very clear—“

“Yeah, well, she wanted to help.”

I shook my head. “You had no right.”

I brushed past her, pushing her out of my way with a brush of my shoulder. It felt like betrayal. It felt like the one person I thought I could trust had just stabbed me in the back. I didn’t want her here. I made that very clear. I didn’t want my mother to testify to what she’d done all those years ago. It didn’t matter who did it or why. All that mattered was that it had happened.

I followed the corridor around until it ended in a solid wall. I slammed my palm against it, needing some outlet for the anger and frustration and…everything that was building up inside of me.

“I’m sorry, Harrison.”

I spun around and found my mother standing several feet away. She looked tired, frail, as she always had. Her dark hair was pulled back into a loose bun at the back of her head, her pale skin unmarked by makeup. She wore thin, gold rimmed eyeglasses that were fairly new, a simple blue dress that was both elegant and practical. Her dress, the way she stood with her hands at her sides, were the definition of who she was. Elegant, practical, pious, obedient, quiet. She was the perfect wife for a religious fanatic.

“What are you doing here?”

“Libby said you needed my testimony. She sent the jet back for me.”

I shook my head, refusing the instinct to walk to her, to protect her.

“I’m sorry you had to find out the way you did. I never imagined you would ever learn about that child’s existence, let alone discover that I was the one who hid the truth from you.”

I turned away, fighting a battle inside of myself that I didn’t know how to calm. She came up beside me and touched my arm, but I jerked away, stepping sideways so that I was just out of her reach. I saw the flash of pain on her face, but it wasn’t enough to equal the scales, not enough to take the sting out of her admission.

“I did it for you, Harrison. I did it to protect you.”

“Protect me from what? From knowing my child? From living the life I wanted?”

“To protect you from losing everything you’d always dreamed of doing.” She took my arm again, tugging me around so that I was staring down into her face even if I didn’t want to. “You were such a troubled boy. All the things you did when you were in high school. And then college. That trip to New York…do you know how infuriated your father was? He expected you to come home that summer, to spend the summer learning the business at his side. Instead, you run off to a city he considered overrun with temptation. And then to come home with a pregnant girl following you…? He would have disowned you.”

“Maybe that would have been for the best.”

“And what would you have done?” A sardonic smile twisted her lips. “As capable as you are, you were not in a position to finish school without your father’s financial help.”

“But that wasn’t your choice to make.”

“I’m your mother,” she said, steel suddenly in her voice. “It was always my choice, just like fighting for your son now was your choice.”

“It’s not the same.”

“It is the same. I was protecting you from making a mistake that would color the rest of your life.” She reached up to touch my face, but I reared back. Again that flash of hurt in her eyes. “I know you, Harrison. If you had known about this child all those years ago, you would have insisted on doing the right thing. But then what? Would you have lived in a studio apartment in New York City? Do you really think that would have been the right thing to do with a child?”

“You never gave me the chance to make that choice.”

“Because it would have been a mistake. You made a mistake, Harrison. But it didn’t have to ruin your entire life.”

I stepped back, nearly stumbling over my own feet. I couldn’t believe what I’d heard coming out of my own mother’s mouth. I had thought I knew her, that I knew her beliefs and her thoughts and her morals. But I’d been wrong.

“His name is Jonathon Tyler Monroe, Mother. JT. And JT is not a mistake. He was never a mistake.”

I stormed away, bursting back into the corridor outside the courtroom just as the current case ended and the corridor was flooded with lawyers and litigants and observers. Some guy with a phone stuck to his ear happened to look up as I brushed past him, his eyes widening as he took in my expression. He grabbed my arm, tugging me back to stand in front of him.