Leverage (12 page)

I heard Tyler’s truck rev up and pull from the driveway. Frustrated and way beyond angry, I screamed at the top of my lungs and, with a wide sweep of both arms, scattered the dirty dishes from the counter to the floor, then slumped down among the broken pieces in a wailing heap of tears.

Waffling between cursing and shrieks, I indulged my anger and fear for several minutes, trying hard to ignore the loud banging at my front door. At first, I thought—or hoped rather—that it might be Ty, that he’d returned to apologize. But he would’ve just come in the way he’d left. And who was I kidding, anyway? He didn’t seem to believe he’d done anything wrong in the first place, that keeping things from me—news regarding my son’s welfare—was fine as long as he was doing it to protect me, to protect my pregnancy. Did he not understand? Hadn’t he learned anything from his first wife’s death?

The banging grew louder and more intense, and yells of concern muffled against the wood of the front door, my name called over and over. I pulled myself up and dragged a sleeve across my face as I trudged to the entry. I swung the door open, fast and wide.

“
What?
” I barked.

It was Roman, his fist raised mid-knock and his brow two opposing diagonal slashes striped across his creased forehead. He eyes swept first over me, then over my shoulder as he peered into my house.

“
Hannah, estás bien? Qué es el mal? Estaba muy preocupado! Yo podría oír todo el camino dentro de mi casa!
”

I shook my head, my hands in the air. “Whoa, English, please.”

He took a deep breath. “I say…I hear you all the way inside my house,” he explained, his arm stretched toward his front yard. “What happened? I was so worried. Are you okay?”

“No. I’m not.” I dropped my face to my hands.

Roman grasped my shoulders gently and pulled me through the doorway. “Come. Sit,” he urged, guiding me to the porch swing. He held it steady and lowered me to the cushioned seat, then pulled a neatly folded handkerchief from his pocket and brushed it across my cheek.

I pulled back and took the linen from his hand. “Thank you, Roman. It’s fine. I’m just frustrated.”

Roman sat down next to me, his leg bent beneath him and his body turned my direction. “I am a good listener if you would like someone to talk to.”

I dabbed my eyes dry and looked at him with a sigh. “It’s nothing really.”

“
Dios mio, cariña!
All that screaming, and it was nothing?
No creo que!
”

“An overreaction, that’s all. I apologize if I worried you.”

“You frightened me, that scream, the breaking dishes. And when I knock, you no answer, though I hear you crying and… swearing.
‘Maldita sea, hijo de pu—’
” he mimicked.

“Okay, okay, I know, and yes…I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you at first. I apologize for scaring you, but I’m fine. Really.”

“And your husband?”

My shoulders slumped and my gaze dropped to my hands in my lap. “He left.”

Roman let out a loud breath and slid an inch closer. “I see.”

I glanced back up. “We argued over my son. We don’t always agree on how to handle him and his…problems.”

“Ah, yes, I understand. But the boy, he is your son, no? Not your husband’s?”

“No, but Ty loves Conner very much.”

“But you are his mother. You know what is best for your own flesh and blood. A mother’s instinct is usually right. It will not lead you astray. As much as you love your husband, he does not understand what it means to be a parent. Not yet, anyway.” Roman’s fingertips grazed my rounded belly. “Soon, though.” He relaxed into a knowing smile.

I sat and stared at him, more than a little unnerved by his familiar touch. I shook it off, though. Many people thought it acceptable to pat a pregnant woman’s belly. I rested both hands over my bulge.

“Hannah, your son, he is a man now. It is wonderful to have a second chance, to have found a husband who accepts your son as his own, but he will never be Conner’s real father. I know this from experience.” He leaned toward me again and laid his hand along my left shoulder. “Listen to your mother’s heart.” He lifted his other hand and ran his fingers along my temple, brushing the hair from my face and sweeping it behind my ear.

The intimate contact was unexpected and made my heart skitter, growing even more intense when he slid closer still and pulled me into a soft embrace. Flustered and caught off guard, I stiffened at first, but then I relaxed and allowed his kind words to comfort me. I rested my cheek against his broad shoulder as his hand rubbed soothing circles along my back. But the tension returned twofold when I heard the familiar rumble of Tyler’s pickup roar back down the street. It came to a screeching halt at the end of the front walkway. The driver’s door opened, and Ty jumped out.

His eyes were, at first, wary, then surprised, then angry as they shifted from my face to Roman, to his hand still at my shoulder. Roman returned an equally troubling look. Heat stained my cheeks. I pulled away from Roman and leapt to my feet as Tyler surged up the front walk onto the porch.

Roman stood and faced Ty. He bowed his head in respect, but though his face was etched with a complacent smile, his eyes burned with an intensity I couldn’t quite fathom. Protective perhaps? Angry that Ty had hurt me? Something inside told me no, that wasn’t it. It was almost as if Roman hated Ty. But that was ridiculous. He barely knew him.

And Tyler… His rage, though contained, was palpable, fairly rippling off his rigid shoulders and his tightly fisted hands, like it was all he could do to keep from wrapping his fingers around Roman’s neck. But then he shifted his focus back to me, and his eyes softened.

I knew that look, too. Regret. Remorse. Pain and sorrow. I’d come to know each extraordinarily well.

Ty took a step closer, but stopped when Roman shifted between us. And as quick as that, Ty’s expression morphed into fury. He pulled his arm back and shot a punch to Roman’s chin. Flailing, Roman flew backwards and collapsed onto the porch swing, snapping it from its chains and sending us both to the concrete. With a shriek, I wrapped my arms around my belly and rolled over the busted wood and metal chain links.

“Hannah! Oh my God!” Tyler howled and pulled me up into his arms.

Roman vaulted to his feet, his eyes burning into Ty’s back, but he remained still, disturbingly calm. His jaw ticked and his mouth thinned to a mere crack as blood trickled from a split in his bottom lip. His gaze shifted to mine and softened, almost mechanically. He took a step back and began to turn away.

I pushed against Tyler and shoved him out of the way. “Roman, wait! Don’t go.”

Ty spun around, and Roman flinched, stumbling on the debris at his feet. He caught himself then hopped back toward the front steps.

With a sigh, Tyler raised his arm. “Bloody hell. I’m sorry. I completely overreacted.”

His brow drawn tight, Roman’s face crumpled into a weak grin as he proceeded backwards down the steps, his head bobbing and his back bowed in deference. “
Lo siento mucho.
So sorry, so sorry,” he said over and over.

“Roman,” I cried and pushed past Ty, though he caught me at the elbow.

“Hannah...”

I tore my arm away. “He was just trying to help!” I picked my way to Roman’s side. “I’m so sorry. Let me walk you home.”

Roman nodded and allowed me to escort him to his front door where he turned to me with worry creasing his forehead. “I did not mean to cause more trouble.” He caught my hands when I shook my head at him. “Go home, Hannah, back to your husband, but be careful. He is an angry man.
Muy enojado.
”

I nodded, embarrassed to have to agree.

“Stand firm in your instincts, Hannah, and should you need a friend or help with your son, you know I am always here for you.
Tenga cuidado.
” With a tight smile and a quick glance over my shoulder at Ty, Roman turned and pushed back into his house, closing the door quietly behind him.

I walked back to the house and climbed the front steps. Ty was still on the porch, his arms full of debris from the broken swing. I stopped and glared at him, disappointed, angry. No way could he miss that. He opened his mouth to speak, but I waved him away and stepped through the open front door. I heard the splintered wood fall back to the pavement then the door close behind me.

“Hannah, wait, please. We need to talk.”

I spun around and crossed my arms over my chest. “Fine. This is me talking, and you listening.” I waited for him to nod. “I’m going to go see Conner. We’re going to hash this all out. And since you seem to know so much about whatever the hell is going on, I’d prefer you come with me, but I’m going regardless, with or without you.”

“No, I don’t want you going over there, possibly putting yourself and the baby at risk.”

“But it’s okay if Conner is at risk, without the benefit of even
knowing
he’s at risk?”

“No, Hannah, that’s not what I’m saying. I just don’t want you to go out there, whether I’m with you or not. In fact, I’d rather Conner not be out there by himself either. We should tell him to just move back home.”

“Yeah, like that’s ever gonna happen, not without Katy anyway. She’s pregnant. He won’t leave her. You heard how he feels.” With a sigh, I paused and glanced away, gathering my nerve to shoot Ty an idea. “Ty, what if we extend the invitation to Katy, as w—”

“Nope. No way.”

“Tyler, hear me out, at least, plea—”

“No. Way. I don’t trust her. I don’t even know who she really is. That’s the whole point of you not going out there and to bringing him home, to keep everyone the hell away from Katy, until we know for sure.”

“But he’s not going to agree, Ty. Wouldn’t it be better to have her here where we can keep an eye on her? You know, keep your friends close and your enemies closer?”

“Not close to you, and certainly not to my child.”

“And
my
child, Ty? What about Conner?”

He let out a long breath. “We’ll make him the offer, on
our
terms. See what he says. But he’s an adult, Hannah. We can’t make him do anything.”

“First off, Ty, they’re
your
terms, not ours. Second, I
can
make him see reason, but I have to go talk to him in person, now, before any of this goes any further.”

I swung around and headed for my bag and car keys in the kitchen, but Ty grabbed me by the elbow and spun me back to face him. “Not without me.” He glanced at his watch. “And I don’t have the time right now. I’m already late as it is, and I can’t miss these meetings.”

I pulled back to free myself, but Ty held firm, so I twisted my arm and yanked hard. “Let go!” I snarled. “And don’t you ever presume to tell me what I can and cannot do.”

His jaw clenched tight, Tyler let go and put his fists on his hips. “I think I have the right. That’s my child you’re carrying.”

“Yeah, and your track record isn’t too good in that department, if you’ll recall.”

He dropped his hands and stepped back, his mouth open. “What did you say?”

“You heard me. You did this exact same thing to Jillian, and look how that worked out—your wife in the ground—she
and
your child. You helped put her there, Tyler, so don’t you dare give me crap about
your
rights.”

Ty just stood there with the most wounded look on his face, like he couldn’t believe I’d actually said those words out loud. Frankly, I couldn’t believe it either. Spite and anger had pushed them from my mouth. I knew it was wrong and hadn’t wanted to say them. I even tried not to, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself. After everything he’d been through, that we’d been through, after losing everything and vowing never to step over that line, to force his judgment and decisions onto others, he hadn’t learned a thing.

He pulled his shoulders back, straight and rigid. “Sounds like you’re accusing me of killing Jillian.”

He was right. It did. But the damage was done, and I didn’t know what to say to undo it, so I said nothing. Truth was, I did believe he had a hand in her death, not directly, of course, but his actions had pushed her to the point of desperation, to act when he would not. He needed to know I wouldn’t be pushed. So I raised my chin in answer.

“Guess that’s what you’ve always believed, huh?” Another stretch of silence, another shake of his head. “You never should’ve married me then, Hannah.” He held my gaze for a long moment then shrugged. “Okay then.” With that, he turned and walked down the hall to our bedroom and closed the door.

I could hear drawers slide open and slam shut, one after the other, and Ty’s footfalls as he marched back and forth across the room. The medicine cabinet door squeaked open. Objects tumbled from the narrow shelves into the porcelain sink below. I even recognized the sound of Ty’s heavy duffel bag being pulled across the wood floor under the bed and tossed onto the mattress above, of clothes being drawn angrily from the closet, the hangers bouncing off the rods, banging against the walls, and skittering across the hard floor.

I stood rooted to the floor, unable to move, frozen in indecision. Should I follow through and drive out to Conner’s? Or do I run to Ty, beg his forgiveness, admit I was wrong, that I didn’t believe he’d killed Jillian? In other words, lie, as I had accused him of doing. No. I wouldn’t do that. But I didn’t want him to leave either.

Time was up. Ty opened the bedroom door and trudged back into the living room with the bag slung over his shoulder. He stood before me and stared. His bright, soulful, blue eyes glistened with unshed tears, filled with pain and regret, with anger and disappointment. He pressed his lips together and lifted his palm to my face, his thumb stroking the damp skin of my cheek. He smiled the tiniest grin before he dropped his hand and headed for the front door.

“Ty, wait.”

He stopped, but didn’t turn around. He just stood there facing the door, silent, his shoulders hunched over, waiting.

“Come with me. Please.”

He angled his face slightly toward me, but kept his eyes cast to the floor. “It’s too late for that, I think.”

“Is it? Or are you still just too rigid to bend?”