Heartwood (24 page)

I BLINKED SLOWLY. My eyelids felt as if they weighed a thousand pounds. Sunlight hit my face and I winced, shading my eyes against the sudden assault. The entire right side of my face throbbed, and I felt pain shoot through my lips as my movements caused my lip to split open again. My tongue felt too big for my mouth, and I suddenly remembered that I’d bitten it hard the night before.

That’s when I remembered exactly where I was and how I got there, and I choked back a wail.

It took far too much energy to sit up, but I managed anyway. I was still on the floor by the thick wooden door. My throat was killing me, and I realized it was from screaming myself horse the night before. My hands were bruised and bloody from beating on the walls and door for what seemed like hours.

It was probably for the best that I’d finally passed out. I needed to conserve my energy.

No one could hear me.

No one was around for miles.

I listened at the door and heard nothing. This actually was a relief, because the night before Logan had been crying his little heart out and no amount of screaming, swearing, or pleading on my part could convince Draven to bring him to me. I hoped the silence meant that Logan had finally exhausted himself as well.

I wouldn’t consider any alternatives.

Pulling myself to standing, I tried to ignore the stiffness throughout my entire body. I shuffled slowly to the single bed which was made with tight military style corners.

Signature Draven.

Some things never change.

Still, after a night on the cold hard wooden floor the bed called to me with its soft welcoming comfort.

I reached down to pull back the blanket and climbed underneath the covers. I grimaced as I settled into it, rolling onto my side. I quickly flipped onto my back when I felt sharp pain shoot through my injured face. The bed frame creaked loudly and I frowned. I hoped Draven was still sleeping soundly and wouldn’t hear. Staring fixedly at the large crack running the entire length of the ceiling, I tried to think. I didn’t make a lot of progress; I hurt far too much and my lack of sleep twisted my thoughts.

I couldn’t get over his audacity.

He’d been waiting for us.

He’d been in our house.

I forced myself to review the events of the previous evening as if analyzing a puzzle, because that was exactly what it was.

Puzzling.

Draven’s actions made no sense to me, and I knew him better than anyone.

Robin hadn’t stayed long. She helped me carry Logan’s car seat and diaper bag into the house and politely asked about our honeymoon. As I hit the broad strokes of our trip, she fidgeted anxiously.

“What’s going on?” I shuffled my giant baby from one hip to the other. He stuffed his fist in his mouth, and I fastened him into his seat so that I could give him a snack.

“I have a job interview tomorrow.” She grinned, and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen her look so genuinely happy.

“Robin!” I hugged her and she giggled in a very un-Robin like way.

“I’m so nervous.” She drawled, tucking her hair behind her ears. “It’s for a cardiologist’s office. I’d be his primary nurse. It’s a pay cut, but it would be Monday through Friday and I’d be off for all of the holidays.”

“Oh, honey! I’m so excited for you!” I grinned. “Go! Go home and get some sleep.”

“Yeah, I have to help get the kids to bed. Sorry to run off...I want to hear all about it this weekend when you open all those gifts.” She headed toward the door.

“Sounds good. Bye!” I waved. “And call me right away after. I want to know how it goes.”

“I will.” I heard her say through the closing door.

I zipped back into the kitchen, planning to puree some fruit for the twins. Logan was jabbering and the sound was delightful. As I replied seriously to all of his babbling, I could tell by his bright blue eyes that we’d be up late.

I poured some water into my mug and put it in the microwave to make some tea, knowing I would need the caffeine if I was going to keep up with him. I pressed the power button and moved back to the sink. I chopped some organic banana and sat the knife aside so I could set the hunks in front of him.

“Such a hungry boy!” I exclaimed as he pinched two banana bits in his hand and stuffed them awkwardly in his mouth. He seemed to be having a good time trying to feed himself, so I turned and tossed a colander into the sink. I stole glances at him as I went about my business. When I heard the familiar sound of the creaking door swing open, I thought nothing of it.

“You forget something, baby?” I called, scrubbing the pears aggressively. When I didn’t get an answer, I glanced up at the windows over the sink and I spied the reflection of a tall hooded figure moving into the room. Every hair on my body immediately stood on end. For a moment, I froze. The figure advanced in my direction, and the gait was all too familiar. I inhaled loudly as he pulled off the hood and flipped his long hair out of his face like he always did. He was right behind me, and I could feel his breath on the back of my neck.

“Hey, Doll.”

I spun around but he closed the gap immediately, pressing me against the counter with his body. His cool, detached gaze swept my face and hair for a full ten seconds as he towered over me. I should have kicked and clawed at him, but I was too surprised to move. I never thought I’d lay eyes on Draven again, let alone up close like that.

His hair was a bit longer than usual, and his features more angular. He looked bigger, as if he’d been lifting a lot. His boyish face had taken on a rough quality and he had a tiny scar on his cheekbone that he’d never had before. Prison life had been hard on him, by the looks of things. I wasn’t surprised. He liked to talk a lot of shit and he was too pretty to have had an easy go of it.

“Maybe I should call you ‘baby girl’. You seem to like that better.” His playful tone spelled trouble, and I trembled as a soft smile tugged at his full lips. “What’s wrong, Molly? Cat got your tongue?”

Flabbergasted, I explored his eyes cautiously as if his motives were encased behind the foggy glass. I struggled with what to say next when he simplified the situation by turning away from me and meandering over toward the knife on the counter. He ran the tips of his second and third fingers over it, as if checking the handle for dust. Then he swiftly palmed it. My heart, which was already beating thunderously, doubled its tempo.

Logan, who was ignoring us, struggled to pick up another piece of banana. Draven stuffed his empty hand in his pocket and took a couple of steps toward him.

“Which one is this?” He asked casually, as if we were discussing flavors of ice-cream or models of cars. My mind lurched, as I flailed to understand what he wanted to know.

“What?” I finally managed. All I could think was how easily my chef’s knife passed through the banana. How meticulous I was about sharpening them. The thought made me want to wretch.

“Is this the boy or the girl?” He replied, and the way he said it reminded me of how he talked to me when I didn’t understand something about his business deals or some terminology he used about finance. It was as if I was a three year old, or mentally challenged. Normally, I’d have told him to piss off for talking down to me like that, but there was nothing normal about any of this.

I opened my mouth and paused. “He’s my son.”

He crouched down to survey Logan, who looked up at him and grinned happily as he triumphantly stuffed banana into his mouth. My knife was nowhere to be seen, but I assumed he still held it in his right hand. “He looks like you.”

He sounded ambivalent. I swallowed hard, my mouth feeling like I was back in the desert in Mexico. “So they say.”

“You don’t mind if I take him, do you?” He asked, his voice retaining it’s smooth as scotch timbre. “You know, since you made it your personal crusade to have mine taken from me.”

“Drae...” I started, slowly moving closer to them. My purse was two feet away from Logan and my pepper spray was on my keychain. I put my hand on my purse, ready to plunge the other inside. If he thought he was laying a finger on Logan, he was sadly mistaken. “I’m not the reason you don’t have Marco you—”

Draven had hurt me several times before, mostly with his mind games. He’d cheated, then accused me of the same. He’d shoved me, and shaken me. He’d nearly drown me once in the bathtub in some fit of unexplained anger... but he’d never struck me. So when the back of his hand connected with the right side of my face, I wasn’t expecting it. I wasn’t ready.

My head exploded with agonizing pain and I’m pretty sure I bit my tongue. I cried out and knocked my purse over. My key ring fell to the floor with a clatter. The apples in the bag next to the purse scattered all over the kitchen floor. Dazed, I realized I was on the ground and somewhere nearby Logan started to cry. It took my eyes a while to focus. I heard Logan settle down, and when I finally could see straight again, my nightmare stood before me. Draven was holding Logan in his arms.

“Don’t you ever talk to me about Marco.” He whispered. His glare was merciless, and I saw my knife was now on Logan’s tray. Draven had put it down to pick him up.

I reached up to touch my face which felt numb, as if it had fallen asleep. My gums hurt, and when I pulled my hand back from my face there was blood on my fingers. The room swam for a second in my vision and I fought against a rising tide of darkness that threatened to pull me under. Reaching up, I grabbed ahold of the nearby counter and somehow got myself upright.

The entire time Draven just stood there watching, a mildly amused expression on his face. When I had myself back on my feet with my back supported against the counter, his face twisted into an angry sneer. He raised his fist, and I knew when he hit me this time I wouldn’t get back up.

“I’m sorry.” I hated myself for doing it. Bile rose up in my throat but I couldn’t think of anything else to do. I looked down at the ground and cringed back. Whenever he’d lashed out at me, he’d always told me that I should have shown him the proper respect. So I took my shot at saving my life and my baby’s. I groveled, and in my peripheral vision I saw his hand drop to his side.

“About what?” His voice was light and playful and the tone was the same one he used when we were first together and he wanted to tease me. Keeping my eyes on the floor I took a shuddering breath.

“I never should have given her the letter.” Daring to glance up at him I saw a look of confusion on his face. I scrambled to say what I thought he’d want to hear. Remembering his weaknesses, I took a stab at appealing to his vanity. “I was jealous that you chose her over me. You had a baby with her, and it should have been me. I was hurt, but that was no excuse. What I did was unforgivable.”

His features seemed to wage a war...the oddest combination of rage and... hope fought for control. Tears suddenly stood in his eyes, but for a moment it seemed like his anger would still win out. Then a single tear slid down his cheek.

“I didn’t choose her. She was a mistake. That’s what I came to Austin to tell you in the first place, Doll.”

My stomach did cartwheels and not because of Draven’s revisionist history. I might have a shot at defusing this situation if I played my cards right. If I could keep him talking until Joe got home...

“Why don’t you put the baby down? He’s hungry. I’ll mix you a drink and we can talk about it.” For a second he seemed to think about it and then anger flashed in his eyes again.

“No. I can’t trust you. You’re just trying to take the boy away from me. Not happening. Finders’ keepers. After all, it’s only fair. An eye for an eye.”

He backed away toward the door, but he watched me, waiting for me to make my next move. It had become perfectly clear during our conversation that Draven had lost a few of his marbles. Maybe someone had beat him down in prison and destroyed the already damaged part of his brain where good decisions were made. I knew one thing with utter certainty. Draven taking my son out of this house wasn’t something I could bear. The thought of him hurting Logan to get revenge on me was unthinkable.

“Wait.” My voice sounded genuine, which wasn’t surprising since I felt like I was begging for Logan’s life. “Take me with you.”