Dare to Hold (20 page)

“Let me just call someone to come pick this up and dust for prints. I don’t expect to turn up anything, but maybe we’ll get lucky.”

Meg didn’t reply. She couldn’t. She was too nauseous and scared to even try. This time, a friend of Scott’s from the force arrived, not a cop he didn’t know. The man took more interest in Meg and her case, and they processed the doll for evidence, but like Scott, he didn’t hold out much hope for prints.

Through it all, Scott held her hand or wrapped her in his protective embrace, and she didn’t think it made her weak to accept his comfort. Mike wanted to kill her baby. No way would she let it happen. Neither, she believed, would Scott, and that was the only thing that kept her marginally sane.

A very long while later, they returned to Scott’s house. She still didn’t speak, and he didn’t push, which she appreciated. His steady presence was all she needed.

He locked up the house and set the alarm before joining her in the bedroom. She’d already washed up, changed into a nightie, and climbed into bed. Scott slid in beside her, pulling her tight against his hard body, holding her until she fell into a fitful sleep.

*     *     *

The beginning of the week passed slowly, the damned baby doll never far from her thoughts. Scott offered to stay home with her, but she insisted he go to work and get used to his new job and let the guys see him pulling his weight as boss. He needed to do that for himself and for Tyler, and Meg didn’t want to grow to rely on him any more than she already did. The house was alarmed, Rick sat outside, and Meg was as safe as possible. For now.

By the time Wednesday arrived, Meg was edgy from a combination of boredom and angry frustration. Mike had made her a prisoner in Scott’s house, unable to live her life, and she resented him for that. The Ashtons had invited Meg to meet at their Palm Beach country club. She explained she was bringing Scott as her friend and as her bodyguard because she wanted them to understand just how serious a threat their son posed to her and her baby. She pressed her hand against her growing belly protectively, nervous now that she had to leave the safety of the house.

She dressed in a pair of knit leggings and matching top, a gray and white outfit that was true maternity wear. It seemed as if her small belly had popped overnight, her baby making its presence well and truly known. A flutter of excitement filled her along with a healthy dose of trepidation. The thought of a baby was way different than the reality, and now she’d get a feel for how Scott would react when he noticed her body’s changes.

He’d asked her not to give up on him, and she’d felt the intensity and seriousness in his tone and his actions. Ever since Sunday night, he’d been back to the Scott who’d barreled his way into her life and made her the center of his world. She just didn’t know if it would last, and she didn’t need the added emotional stress.

Scott drove them north to Palm Beach, where the Ashtons lived, and the long ride passed in tense silence. The tension wasn’t between her and Scott, however; it was Meg’s nerves that had completely overtaken her. It didn’t help when they pulled up to the front of the club, an imposing structure with white pillars and lush palm trees surrounding the building. She felt way out of her league.

Valets were waiting to take their car. Scott accepted the ticket before walking around the car, toward her. He always took her breath away, and today was no different. He’d showered and shaved, so not only did he look good, he smelled delicious, his musky scent calling to her body and arousing her despite the time and place.

He’d dressed up in a pair of black slacks and a pale blue long-sleeve button-down dress shirt. Blue was clearly his favorite color, and it had quickly become hers because of how the color set off his gorgeous eyes. He also wore a black sport jacket, his holstered gun hidden at his side. Though she hated the idea of the weapon, she felt so much better knowing he was with her and armed. She didn’t want to think the older couple would set her up by bringing Mike, but anything was possible. Mike was tracking her or following her somehow, and today’s meeting wouldn’t go unnoticed. Her stomach flipped painfully at the thought.

“Are you okay? You didn’t say a word on the drive up,” Scott said, his big hand cupping her elbow as he joined her.

“No,” she said honestly. “But I have to do this.” She pulled in a deep breath of air.

“Well, you’re not alone.” He pressed his forehead to hers, the gesture both tender and intimate, and her entire body flooded with warmth and heat.

“I know.” She pulled back and managed a smile to reassure him. “Let’s get this over with.”

He studied her face, as if making sure she really was ready, before nodding. “Okay.”

A little while later, introductions complete, they were seated at a small round table, facing the older couple. Lydia seemed nervous, which ironically put Meg more at ease.

“Thank you for meeting with us,” Walter said. He had gray hair and, now that she allowed herself to really look at him, kind eyes.

Meg swallowed hard. “You’re welcome.”

Lydia leaned forward in her seat. “How are you feeling?” she asked Meg.

“I’m fine. I was pretty lucky early on. The morning sickness wasn’t that bad, and now I’m feeling good.”

The older woman nodded. “That’s good.” She paused before speaking. “I wanted so badly to carry a child.” She smiled, but her eyes appeared sad. “It wasn’t meant to be for us, but we were lucky enough to be able to adopt.”

Meg didn’t know what to say, so she remained silent. Beside her but beneath the table, Scott reached over and clasped her hand in his. He always knew when to offer silent support, as if he could read her mind or her moods.

“I’ve always been hands-on with children’s charities, and it made sense to me to adopt a baby that not everyone else would want.” Lydia wrapped her heavily jeweled fingers around a cup of hot tea, as if needing the warmth. “Mike had fetal alcohol effects,” she explained. “We didn’t know what the impact would be on him long term, but we thought we were equipped to handle it.”

As if sensing she needed his strength, Walter reached over and took his wife’s hand away from the cup, covering it with his own. Meg watched them, surprised. She hadn’t expected a loving couple, and both her heart and her mind told her this wasn’t a performance for her sake. The affection between them was real.

“I take it Mike was … more than you anticipated?” Meg asked gently.

Lydia’s eyes filled with tears and she nodded. “He didn’t have the physical problems sometimes associated with a mother who drinks, but he had the behavioral issues. As time went on, things got worse. And with the inherited addictive tendencies, when he started drinking at a young age and hanging out with the wrong kids…” She shook her head. “We tried counseling, out treatment, in treatment…” She trailed off, her voice catching.

“I had no idea,” Meg said. “When I met Mike, I didn’t notice anything wrong. He was working construction. I met his friends… There were no warning signs. Until he lost his job, and then he changed.”

She recalled that night, the first display of temper, and she shuddered. He hadn’t hit her then. In fact, he’d never laid a hand on her until she’d told him about the baby, but the sudden shift in his mood had been terrifying.

“Losing a job is something that happens often, I’m sorry to say,” Walter said.

“He did get another one quickly, so I didn’t think much of it. Except he was laid off pretty fast from there too.” Meg took a sip of water. “He used to say you wouldn’t help him because he wouldn’t be the person you wanted him to be, that your expectations were too high. Then again, he found my expectations too high, and all I wanted him to do was pay his share of the rent and come home at night instead of partying with his friends.”

Scott stiffened beside her, clearly not happy with her replaying of her past.

“It’s not your fault,” Walter said. “My son is good at manipulative behavior and getting what he wants from people.” He met his wife’s gaze with a sad nod.

“This is all well and good, but we need to figure out how to get Mike to back off and leave Meg alone. He’s threatened to
help
her get rid of the baby, and he just sent a beheaded doll as a warning in the mail,” Scott said, his angry tone reflecting his frustration.

“Oh my. I’m so sorry.” Lydia shook her head, unable to meet Meg’s gaze. “What can we do?”

“From what Mike has said, this is all about money. Just assure him that if he signs the papers relinquishing his rights to the baby, you won’t cut him off. That will take the edge off his anger and get him to back off and leave Meg alone.”

Meg knew it wasn’t a guarantee, but she agreed with Scott it might be a start.

“I’m sorry but we can’t,” Walter said.

Chapter Eleven

“C
an’t? Or won’t?” Scott asked the older man, disappointed for Meg’s sake that the last twenty minutes of understanding and kindness had still led to disappointment.

“Scott—” Meg said in warning.

“No, he’s entitled to his opinion. We’ve heard it all before,” Walter said.

“Have you ever dealt with an addict?” Lydia asked.

Meg shook her head.

“Well, it’s simple. We can’t enable Mike in order to ensure good behavior. It doesn’t work, it won’t last, and in the end, more trouble will come down the road. You’re asking me to keep paying him, which will only feed his addiction. And I promise you, it won’t keep you safe,” Walter explained, and in that moment, he appeared older than he had on first meeting. When speaking of his son’s problems, the lines in his face, the extreme sadness, were more pronounced.

“Meg, it’s not that we don’t want to help, it’s that we’ve had almost thirty years of experience raising him, the last I don’t know how many years being taught how to deal with addictive behavior,” Lydia said, her imploring stare on Meg’s as she spoke.

“Then what do you suggest?” Scott asked, well and truly pissed off.

“Unfortunately, I don’t have a suggestion, and I know that’s not what you want to hear.” Walter met Scott’s gaze. “If you need money to help keep the mother of my grandchild safe, just say the word—”

“Thanks but I’ve got this,” he said too harshly.

Meg squeezed his leg beneath the table. Scott took the hint, but he didn’t need it. He wanted to be offended by the offer … but he wasn’t. He also wanted to dislike these people because of who their son was … and couldn’t. He wouldn’t want to be judged by his father. He couldn’t do the same to this couple.

“Meg, I meant what I said when I came to see you at school. I’d like to be part of the baby’s life. But I’d like to get to know you too. We have time before the baby is born. You can get to know me … us,” Lydia said. “You can decide for yourself once you know us more.”

Scott felt Meg’s shock in the stiffness of her body. “I’d like that,” she said softly.

He understood. She had nobody in the way of family. Not like he did. These people were offering her and, by extension, her child a bond she was lacking. Scott wanted that for her. Just like he wanted her to think of his mother and siblings as her family too. But first he had to get her to accept him as a permanent part of her life.

With the difficult discussions behind them, they ate and talked about neutral subjects. They asked Meg about her childhood, where she’d gone to college, and learned more about her in general. He watched as she slowly opened up to them, something he knew from personal experience she didn’t do easily.

By the time the meal ended, Meg had relaxed, and Scott had a better handle on the Ashtons. He could honestly say he was comfortable with Meg spending time in their company, not that she needed his permission, he thought wryly.

They walked out the front entrance into the warm sunshine. Scott glanced around, seeing only two valets in green jackets and a taxicab idling not far from where the men would bring his truck.

“Thank you so much for coming. It was a pleasure getting to know you,” Lydia said to Meg, pulling her into an embrace.

Meg hugged the woman, patting her back awkwardly, but in her expression, Scott could see the hope of acceptance, of family. It was everything Scott wanted for her, and he, too, prayed the couple lived up to the promise.

Walter stepped closer, grasping Meg’s hand in his. “You’re a lovely young woman.”

She blushed, that pink flush Scott liked seeing on her cheeks. “Thank you.”

“Traitors!”

The shouted word startled everyone.

Scott spun as a man strode forward from the yellow taxi. Meg turned fast, her expression turning to one of horror. “Mike,” she whispered at the same moment Scott recognized him.

The man wore dirty clothes, his hair hadn’t been washed in too long, and his eyes were bloodshot from drugs or alcohol.

“Mike?” Lydia gasped, her face turning pale.

And Walter, who still held Meg’s hand, stared in shock at his son—who had a small revolver in his hand.

Scott reached for and raised his gun without thinking twice, training the weapon on Mike Ashton.

“How could you choose that bitch over me?” Mike asked, the hand holding the gun shaking uncontrollably.