“Is that comfortable? Your neck looks like it’s broken.” Andrew leaned forward in the chair positioned in the corner of the bedroom.
“Only time he spoke was to chastise me for being out of bed.” I glazed over his concern. Everything still hurt, but I’d grown used to ignoring it.
“I took him lunch today. He wouldn’t eat.” He dropped his chin to his chest. “Trish says Mrs. Quinn acts like nothing happened.”
I threw the covers back. “I’m going over there. That woman can’t threaten my baby and hurt Dad.” Gingerly, I swung a leg off the mattress. I stopped. “How does Dad know where she lives?”
We looked at one another.
“I—I have no idea.”
Neither of said us anything for a long time, too many questions we didn’t have answers to between us. I settled back on the bed, shoving down my instinct to thrash the woman who gave birth to me so I could think like a rational human being.
“Patrick can’t find her either.”
“It’s been three days. His guy is better than that.” He rubbed his thighs. “When will he be back?”
I glanced at the clock. “Shouldn’t be too long. Will you stay for lunch?”
“I have a closing at one so I can’t.”
I held out my hand, and he stretched to take it. “Bring Trish and Ella over soon. Blake misses her.”
“I’ve missed you too.” He squeezed, his expression softening. “I’m glad to see you trying. Not gonna lie, it’s weird that it’s Patrick. But in some warped way, the two of you are good for one another.”
“I’m beginning to think he likes Blake more than me.” I couldn’t blame him. My son had that effect on people.
“Everybody does, so don’t worry about it.” He grinned and stood, bending to kiss my forehead. “Don’t go days without calling Dad. He needs all of us now.”
“I’ve already talked to him twice today.” I frowned. “Well, I talked and he mumbled.”
“Keep at it. You’re his favorite.”
I swatted at him. “Shut up.”
“I’ll call you later. Need anything before I go?”
“Can you hand me that tablet?” I pointed toward the nightstand on Patrick’s side.
He rounded the bed and stretched to give it to me. “I’ll lock up on my way out.”
What a vicious cycle. I hated to be still. It allowed too much time for my mind to wander to places better left alone. Yet the more I moved, the more I aggravated the injury.
For two hours, I’d scrolled through mindless crap on the internet, only to have my thoughts chase one rabbit trail after another. I couldn’t make sense of my father’s behavior. The one thing I understood was why he did whatever it was he did. Because he loved me and Blake and our growing family.
Family.
Pain slashed my chest. I was having a child with a man who wasn’t my husband. Was in his bed. Allowing him to become a fixture in my life. One of the permanent variety. How could I do that when Jack would never have the chance?
How could I rob Blake and Gummy of the opportunity to have a father in their life who worshipped them?
I couldn’t. It wasn’t like I was exactly suffering with Patrick. I’d been looking at the clock ever since he and Blake took off for work, anxious for when they’d be home.
I’d never done that to this degree with Jack. And that scared me. I couldn’t stop loving Jack, but my feelings for Patrick were more intense. As if getting pregnant weren’t enough of a betrayal, I’d gone and forged a connection with another man that ran deep.
Jack had been the perfect husband. Sure, we’d argued, but he was even-tempered, let me run over him in a lot of ways. We were lucky. Happy.
But Patrick understood me in a way no one ever had. He loved me for me, maybe even loved my flaws the best. And he was the one person who never once gave up on me, no matter how awful I was.
Slowly, he’d nudged Jack to the edges of my mind instead of the center. A day at a time, he’d filled in the cracks and fissures Jack’s death had left behind. My still heart had begun to beat again in a steady and sure rhythm.
I didn’t know how to deal with the guilt I felt over my feelings, but I couldn’t let this go. The thought of giving Patrick up was too painful. And if I’d just open my mouth, we could talk about it. Work through things together.
I love him.
That bastard had made me do it, and I didn’t want to take it back.
I rubbed my stomach. “Watch out for your daddy. He’s a sneaky charmer.” I kissed my fingertips and pressed them to my belly. “And he already loves you so much.”
I couldn’t wait for the first time he felt her kick. He’d lose it. Talk about it with his little dude buddy nonstop.
I picked up the tablet to call them. They needed to get home. I missed both of their faces.
The internet browser refreshed before I opened the call function. In a red block of breaking news, Patrick’s name splashed across the screen.
I stabbed the headline and scanned the article, going straight back to the top to read it again. Facts. Statements. Cover ups.
I splayed my hand over my stomach.
I’d fallen in love with a man who had a side I knew nothing about.
“Wicked. We’re home.”
Two smiling faces appeared in the doorway.
“Home.”
Patrick rushed toward me with Blake on his hip. “How are you—” He stopped short. “What’s wrong?”
“Did you do it?” I whispered.
“Do what?”
I swallowed hard and held up the tablet. It couldn’t be true. I was sick to even ask. But I had to. “Rape that little girl.”
Chapter Fifty-Five
Patrick
Boom.
I stumbled backward. Looked from the tablet to Marlow’s ashen face. This couldn’t be happening. Not when I’d tried so hard to keep it buried.
“Did you?”
I stared at her, and the reality of what she was asking crashed
