Taming the Moguls (29 page)

“Take a swallow of milk, wipe your mouth and
your hands, and eat some of this apple. I want to talk to you for a
minute.”

“How was Colorado? Did you see any
mountains?”

“I saw lots of them and a whole lot of
snow.”

“Did you make a snowman?”

“No.” Gretchen slid the apple slices onto a
plate. “The snow there is different. There’s very little humidity,
so the snow doesn’t stick together.”

“What’s humimity?”

Gretchen set the plate on the table and
pulled out a chair to join him. “Humidity. It’s moisture in the
air. You know how when we go outside in the summer, the air feels
thick like you could slice it with your hand, and it makes us sweat
a lot?”

He shrugged and took a slice of apple. “I
guess.”

“In Colorado, the air is dry.”

“So you don’t sweat there?”

“Not as much, no.” She placed her hand over
his. “I need to tell you something. Something important.”

“Okay.” He looked up at her with his
brownish-gray eyes. She needed to explain everything in a way that
protected his innocence.

“When I was in Colorado, I ran into a man I
used to know. We were friends. Good friends.”

“You ran into him?”

“I saw him. I wasn’t expecting to see someone
I knew.”

“Okay.”

“This man and I used to be in love. I loved
him.”

Alex’s brow furrowed. “Was he my dad?”

Her heart ached. He would eventually discover
the truth, many years down the road. “No. His name is Tommy Golden.
We dated a long time ago. We broke up, but I’ve never forgotten him
and he never forgot me either. Turns out we still love each
other.”

He chewed slower and slower until his mouth
was full of half-chewed apple and hanging open. “What does that
mean?”

“It means he’s going to be a part of our
lives from now on. He wants to meet you. He’s very excited about
meeting you.”

Alex swallowed what was left in his mouth,
anxious to ask a question. “Do I get to go to Colorado?”

“Maybe, at some point. He’s here now. In
Chicago. He’s going to come to the house in a little while.”

“Oh.” He looked down at his plate as
questions swirled in his head. Gretchen couldn’t tell if he was
excited or scared or a little of both. “Can I have what you brought
me now, please?”

She laughed as relief swamped her. The beauty
of being a child was that a present trumped all other aspects of
life. He probably needed a few minutes to think about what she’d
said. “Yes. I’ll get my suitcase out of the car.”

When she opened the front door, she ran into
a silk tie, a large chest, and a scent that sent nauseating spurts
of adrenaline through her veins. She glanced up and recognized the
absolute fury on Ryan’s face. She absurdly wondered how he’d found
her, considering he’d never been to her home. She stepped back, but
he grabbed her arms and yanked her forward.

“Hello, Gretchen. Going somewhere?”

He seemed bigger than he did on television.
On the few occasions his image appeared on TV before she could
change the channel, she’d always thought he looked smaller. She’d
been wrong. He towered over her, and his grip confirmed he was as
strong as ever.

Her mind went back to that day when he
dragged her inside his apartment and shut the door, locking out all
chance for her to scream or run or change her fate. She shook her
head and closed her eyes. When she opened them, she saw her lawn,
the tree where Alex wanted to hang a swing, and her
mailbox—reminders that she was in a different place and she was a
different person. Gone was the innocent victim. He might think he
could hurt her again, but she’d never let that happen. She was too
close to holding everything she’d ever wanted in her hand. “What
are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here?” he asked with bitter
contempt. “Well, let’s see. I got a little letter this afternoon
from a lawyer requesting that I relinquish my parental rights. So I
thought I’d come on over and assert my parental rights and tell you
just what you can do with your request and your threats.” He
slammed her against the wall so hard a framed print fell and
crashed onto the hardwoods.

“Mom?”

She gasped when Alex called out. Ryan’s head
turned toward the hallway that led to the kitchen. “Don’t,” she
begged. “This doesn’t involve him. Leave him out of it.”

He slid his hand to her neck and placed his
thumb over the base of her throat. She struggled to drag air into
her lungs as he pressed his thumb harder. His pupils swam in his
gray eyes, and she wondered if he was hyped up on drugs. “You have
no control over what I say to
my
son.”

She couldn’t move his hand away from her
throat no matter how hard she pushed against his arm. If he held
his thumb there much longer, she would lose consciousness. God only
knew what he would do to Alex. The more panicked she became, the
more her heart raced and the more she struggled to breathe.

“You can’t take my son from me,” Ryan spat.
“He’s not yours. He’s mine. From now on, he’ll only be mine. When I
get done with you and your pissant lawyer, you’ll never see him
again.”

The last thing Gretchen saw as she slid down
the wall was Alex’s frightened face peer around the corner. She
tried to scream as the blackness covered her like a blanket and
pulled her under.

***

Tommy hit the send button on his phone after
typing, “I’m on my way.” A text seemed redundant considering his
taxi had exited the interstate and arrived in a residential
neighborhood with houses similar to what Gretchen had described. He
would arrive within minutes of his text, leaving her little time to
prepare for the big meet.

He was too jacked up from his chat with his
mother and the appointment he’d forced her to make with Peter
Barnes for the next day. Peter informed her he would be happy to
issue a subpoena if she was somehow unable to keep the appointment.
Tommy knew she might make them go the extra mile, but he still
considered their chat successful. Short of physically dragging her
into the lawyer’s office, there wasn’t much else he could do. From
her resigned expression, he knew his mother would probably be at
the lawyer’s office in the morning.

The taxi pulled up next to the curb of a
ranch with black shutters and a freshly mowed lawn. His brow
furrowed as he gathered money to pay the driver. He wondered whose
luxury sedan was parked in the drive behind Gretchen’s coup. Maybe
he’d meet Holcomb in person and they could hammer out some details
of the negotiation.

He’d just closed the taxi door and begun
walking through the yard when his pulse jumped. The front door
stood wide open. He ran full speed when he recognized Gretchen’s
leg lying just inside the foyer. “Gretchen!” He skidded to a stop
on his knees beside her. “Gretchen!” He ran his hands over her face
and along her body, looking for signs of trauma. When her eyes
fluttered, he brought his face to hers and encouraged her with
soothing chants. “Come on, baby. Come on, Gretch, wake up. Honey,
wake up.”

“Alex,” she said, her voice barely audible.
“Find Alex.”

“What happened, baby? Are you okay?”

“Ryan. He’s here. Find Alex. Don’t let him
take him.”

Tommy’s head jerked up as he heard the boy
scream. He scrambled to his feet and ran outside to see Ryan
struggling to carry a flailing ten-year-old boy.

“Mom!” the boy shouted. “Let me go!” He
punched and kicked and wiggled, but Ryan held tight as he moved
toward his car.

Tommy ran full steam as if tackling a running
back, but he decided a tackle could injure the boy. He couldn’t
take that chance. Because neither had noticed him, he ran behind
Ryan and grabbed his arms hard enough for Alex to jerk free and
scramble away.

“Run, Alex!” Tommy shouted as Ryan spun
around. Ryan swung wildly. Tommy ducked the punch. With his feet
firmly planted, he sent a right hook straight into Ryan’s nose.
Blood spurted everywhere, and Ryan wobbled, clutching his nose.

“You son of a bitch!” Ryan gingerly placed a
hand on his nose and blinked, squinting. “Golden? I should have
known.” He ducked his head and charged at Tommy, toppling both men
to the ground.

If Ryan landed punches, Tommy didn’t feel
them. He only felt the adrenaline running through his veins and the
years of pent-up anger and hatred for a man he used to call
teammate. He used his hands, his feet, and his knees to pummel Ryan
Lowry into a lifeless bloody mess.

Gretchen’s voice called him back to sanity,
calling his name, begging him to stop. “Tommy, stop. That’s enough.
You’re going to kill him.”

Tommy drew a breath and came out of the
trance that had captured him. Ryan lay beneath Tommy, his face
covered in blood, unconscious. Tommy swiped a bloody hand across
his forehead. “Are you okay?” he asked Gretchen.

She knelt beside him. When he cupped her
cheek, he left a streak of blood in his wake. “I’m fine. I’m
okay.”

Tommy glanced over the lawn where Alex was
wrapped in the arms of an older woman with silver hair and an
old-fashioned housedress. “Is Alex okay?”

“He’s fine.”

“Who is that?” He pointed at the woman
holding Alex.

“My next-door neighbor. She heard Alex
screaming and saw Ryan running out of the house with Alex.” They
both looked up as sirens in the distance became louder and louder.
“She called the police.”

Ryan groaned as Tommy stood up, confirming he
was still alive. Tommy didn’t know whether he was grateful or
disappointed he hadn’t killed him. He would have if Gretchen hadn’t
stopped him. “We’ve got some explaining to do.”

Gretchen ran her hands over Tommy’s face and
midsection. “Are you hurt? You’ve got a bad cut over your eye. I
hope he didn’t break any ribs.”

Tommy shook his head and spit blood as the
police approached. “I’m fine. Are you sure you’re okay? What did he
do to you?”

“We got a call about a potential kidnapping?”
the older of the two officers asked as they approached. His hand
was at his waist, ready to draw his weapon.

“I called,” Gretchen’s neighbor said and,
along with Alex, walked to where the officer stood. Her hand shook
as she pointed at Ryan. “That man right there tried to kidnap this
boy. I saw it with my own eyes. And this man,”—she pointed at
Tommy—“he saved him. Like an angel sent from God, he saved the
boy.”

Tommy wasn’t anyone’s angel, but he sure
appreciated having a witness, especially since Ryan wasn’t in any
condition to refute the events.

“MacGregor,” the officer said over his
shoulder, “call an ambulance.” He looked at Tommy, Gretchen, and
the next-door neighbor. “I need to get statements from all of
you.”

Ryan groaned and mumbled and attempted to sit
up. The officer assisted him back to the ground with his shoe.
“You’re going to want to stay right where you are if you don’t want
to end up in handcuffs.”

Tommy realized his lip was split when he
smiled. He tightened his arm around Gretchen. “I want her looked at
by the medics first.”

“Tommy, I’m okay.”

“You were passed out when I got here. That’s
not okay.”

“He choked me. I’m fine now.”

The officer held up his hands. “Everyone will
get checked out by the medics. Now, ma’am,”—he turned to Gretchen’s
neighbor—“can I get your statement first if you don’t seem to have
any injuries?”

Tommy leaned down and kissed Gretchen’s
forehead. He almost lost his balance when Alex charged over and
threw his arms around Tommy and Gretchen’s midsections.

“You saved us,” Alex said as tears leaked
from his eyes. “You saved me and my mom.”

Tommy leaned down and patted the boy’s
shoulder. “I’m Tommy Golden. You must be Alex.”

Chapter 54

Christmas morning in Colorado had a whole new
meaning for Tommy. With the snow gently falling outside, the lights
from the giant tree he and Gretchen had put up only days ago
shining bright inside, and a mountain of presents underneath it, he
had to shake his head as he descended the stairs. The wedding band
on his left hand clanked on the banister as he went to the kitchen
to brew a pot of coffee, reminding him of the best changes over the
last few weeks. He had a wife and a little boy sleeping in his
house who thought Tommy hung the moon. After the holidays, they
would file the adoption papers. There was no rush since Ryan’s
arrest and the termination of his parental rights.

Gretchen came up behind him and wrapped her
arms around his chest as he measured the coffee. “Merry
Christmas.”

Tommy turned on the machine and turned into
her arms. “Merry Christmas, Mrs. Golden.” When he leaned down to
kiss her, she ran her thumb over the scar on his forehead like
she’d done every day since his altercation with Ryan.

“Mmmm,” she purred. “Say it again.”

“Merry Christmas, Mrs. Golden.”

“Merry Christmas, Mr. Golden. How’d you
sleep?”

“Like a baby on Christmas eve. Of course, I
don’t think a baby’s ever made love under the tree like we did last
night.”

Gretchen rubbed her belly. “Oh, I don’t know.
At the rate we’re going, there might have been a baby rolling
around on the rug with us last night.”

He kissed the tip of her nose. “Just to be
sure, I think we ought to give it another whirl while Alex is still
asleep.”

“It’s Christmas morning. He’s going to be up
at the first crack of daylight.”

Tommy looked out the window. “We’ve got
time.” He loosened the belt on her robe. “Besides, your son’s like
an elephant. No chance we won’t hear him when he wakes up.”

He knew he had her when she tilted her head
so his lips could access more of her delicate neck. He kissed the
tender base where Ryan had wrapped his hands and choked her only
weeks before. He hoped if he kissed her enough, it would wipe away
the memory. “I love it that you’re so easy.”