Chapter 29
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
JULIETTE
J amie’s gym is big. Walking into it, PJ’s eyes light up. It’s like Christmas for him. In all the years we’ve known Jamie, we’ve never been here. Don’t get me wrong, PJ wanted to. He practically begged, but I couldn’t stand the thought of stepping into this city. Funny how the thing I was most scared of might be one of the best things to happen to me. I never thought seeing Dean again would end up like this. Part of me still wants to fight it, wants to make him grovel. Maybe I should. But after yesterday—after everything I said—there’s no taking that back. There’s no fighting this anymore. I’m in love with Dean Walsh, and I can only hope this time will end up better than the last. I don’t know if I could handle it a second time.
PJ squeezes my hand. “Mom, look.” He points to the ring in the middle of the room. “Can I go?”
I nod, loving how excited he is. This is a good distraction for him. He’s been acting normal—aside from ensuring Dean is with us wherever we go—but I read online that trauma can take a bit to sink in for younger kids.
Sunday is the one day a week the gym is closed, which means we’ve got the entire place to ourselves. It’s just Dean, Jamie, PJ, and me. Margot is back at the house making a big lunch. I tried to stay back and help, but she wouldn’t hear of it. Though she wasn’t shy about putting Dean’s twin cousins to work.
Dean and PJ’s voices echo through the building as they climb into the ring.
“Those two have gotten closer,” Jamie says, coming to stand beside me.
“Yeah.”
It’s a good thing, I know it. But all those insecurities rise to the surface anyway. How long will Dean stick around? Is PJ going to be hurt? Honestly, I think PJ looks at him like a hero ever since that night of the family dinner—like he can save us from anything. It’s an illusion that, sooner or later, is going to shatter. How can I minimize the damage?
“What about you and Dean?”
“Me and Dean?”
“Are you and Dean getting closer?”
I hesitate. My first instinct is to blurt out just how close Dean and I have been. But that’s probably not a good idea for his grandfather. I don’t spend enough time with other adults, and it shows.
“If you’re asking if we’re together, I’m not sure.”
“You’re not sure?”
“Well, yeah. I mean, we haven’t talked about it or anything.”
Fuck. I sound like a babbling idiot. I confessed my love and all, but we never explicitly said we were a thing. Assuming the two of us are, if he’s thinking we are not, is a one-way ticket to heartbreak. No, thank you.
Jamie narrows his eyes at me. “I don’t get you young people.”
“Young people?”
“You know what I mean. Why don’t you guys just talk? Use words. It’s the easiest thing to do.”
“Not when things are as complicated as all of this,” I reply, swirling my finger in the air.
“I don’t know about that, kid. Margot and I managed to use words.”
“I’m sure times were easier.”
He chuckles. “Maybe. But if we managed to do it, I think you and my grandson can.”
“Eh,” I mutter. “Our track record isn’t great.”
“Whose is?” He laughs. “Let me just tell you this: any time you’re unsure about anything, just relax your shoulders and whisper ‘blind faith.’ It’ll carry you through.”
His words trigger a memory. One I haven’t thought about in years.
“I’ve heard those words before,” I tell him.
“Where?”
“Dean. Six years ago in Vegas. He, uh, he gave me that same speech. I don’t remember why.”
That’s a lie. I do remember. It was the night he was convincing me to trust him—the night before everything blew up. He was stroking my hair while we lay naked in bed, our legs tangled together beneath his blue silky sheets. Dean promised me everything under the sun that night. When I laughed at the idea of him wanting to marry me, he told me to have blind faith. He promised it would always lead me in the right direction.
How could I have forgotten that night? Over the years, I’ve convinced myself Dean never talked about the future, never showed any promise. But he did. I just… forgot. Why the hell is that my coping method? Like honestly, what a weird natural instinct. Maybe I should talk to Eva about it.
“What can I say? He learned from the best,” Jamie boasts, pulling me from my thoughts.
“I can see that.”
Looking back at the ring, I watch Dean and our son roll around on the mat. My heart tugs at the sight. Maybe Jamie is right, and I just need blind faith. Or maybe the old guy is delusional, and so am I? Both are valid and realistic options.
Somehow , I doubt that.
There’s a loud beeping sound outside. We all look toward the door.
“That’s for me,” Dean says, jumping up and running outside.
Jamie and I share a look before following him out. In the parking lot, a tow truck is slowly lowering Dean’s Impala to the ground. I laugh to myself. He loves this car. It’s beautiful, sure—black, shiny, and classic. Dean loves it like it’s his baby.
“Holy…” PJ’s voice trails off as he stares at the car.
There are stars in his eyes, and I already know he’ll be just like his father when it comes to cars. I glance at Jamie and see the same appreciative look on his face. Guess the love for cars runs deep through the Walsh DNA.
Dean looks like a kid in a candy shop as the tow truck driver finishes up and drops the keys into his hands. They jingle as Dean holds them up—the silver gleaming in the sun.
“I’m surprised Declan brought it down,” I say, running a finger over the smooth body.
“He didn’t,” Declan replies. “Called in a favor with Balor.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You willingly asked Balor for something?”
Balor and Dean might have grown up together, both handpicked to be by Declan’s side, but the two of them have never considered each other friends.
“No, I called him and reminded him of the time he had me lie to Declan so he could follow Simone to her vacation in Venice. When that didn’t work, I had to remind him of the time he made me clean out her room at the estate and move it all to his house while she was at work.”
“Balor really was a stalker, huh?”
He shrugs. “He knew what he wanted, and he got it.”
Snaking an arm around my waist, he pulls me to him. My hands land on his shoulders. The way his eyes roam over me makes me shiver. Heat bubbles in the gold specks around his irises.
“I’d stalk you day and night, bluebird.”
“You did,” I reply. “You’re just really fucking bad at it.”
Dean growls at me. It’s the only warning I get before his lips are on mine. His kiss immerses me in a sea of peace—a feeling I never want to let go of. He coaxes my mouth open, plunging his tongue inside. The tranquility morphs into lust. I feel the center of my panties dampen. My clit throbs, pleading for release.
“I’m right here,” PJ says, his tone one of disgust.
It’s a bucket of ice-cold water over Dean and me. The two of us break apart to find PJ and Jamie watching us. Jamie shoots me a look. Yeah, he’s definitely not buying that we’re not together now.
“Sorry, buddy,” I reply, breathless.
“Yeah,” Dean adds. “Sorry.”
He squeezes a handful of my ass as he says it, smirking the whole time. My heart does a flip in my chest like an eager puppy.
“ He’s left you before, how will this time be any different ?” a little voice hisses. “ He doesn’t love you. Not in the same way you love him .”
It’s hard not to listen. Not to think about what my life would be like if Dean left again. What PJ’s life would look like. But I don’t want my intrusive thoughts to take this from me. The more I entertain them, the more moments they steal.
“Let’s go for a drive,” Dean says.
“Can I drive?” PJ asks.
“Absolutely not,” I reply.
“Yes,” Dean says at the same time.
I whip my head around. “Excuse me? He’s five.”
Please tell me the father of my child isn’t that reckless.
“Reckless? Didn’t you steal my car when you were eighteen?” Dean asks, making me realize I said the last part aloud.
“At least I had a driver’s license,” I mutter, remembering that day vividly. Dean gave me some lecture about safety and told me to stop being childish. I was trying to be mature when I roped Gemma into stealing his car with me.
“Oh, come on, baby. He’ll be in my lap, and we’ll just stay in the parking lot.”
“You better go slow too,” I reply.
Dean and PJ whoop. They run to the driver’s side door like it’s the end of a rainbow or something. The passenger side door clicks as I open it.
“You’re not taking my kid driving without me.”
Pausing, I look back at Jamie. “Coming?”
“No, I’m going to head home and see if Margot needs any help. Come home when the three of you are ready.”
“Okay.”
I ignore the niggling feeling that he’s really going home to tell Margot what he saw and climb into Dean’s car. The coldness from the light leather seats seeps through my jeans.
Dean shoots me a smile—one that makes my pussy tingle. What the hell is wrong with me? The man gave me a few orgasms, and now I’m insatiable. All I ever think about is sex. Sex and Dean’s gorgeous dick.
My phone rings. I look down at the screen, my stomach swooping.
“It’s the detective,” I tell Dean.
“Answer it.”
He stills as I swipe at the screen. “Hello.”
“Hi, it’s Detective O’Donnell. I just wanted to give you an update on Arnie. The hospital released him today.”
I can’t breathe. My heart is in my throat.
“So he’s free?” I ask, voice cracking.
Dean freezes next to me, his head snapping my direction.
“You misunderstand. The hospital released him, but he’s been booked into the local jail.”
My lungs sputter back to life, relief running through my veins. I shake my head at Dean. He relaxes immediately, going back to teaching our son about the gearshift.
“Do you know if he’s at risk of getting out?” I ask.
I’m not really sure how things work over here, but I know in America, they don’t keep criminals in jail for long—especially if it’s a crime against a woman or child. Those men always seem to be walking free the next day.
“I don’t think that will be a problem,” he replies, his accent coming through strong. “Arnie will stay right where he is.”
That makes me smile. It makes me feel safe.
“Thank you.”
“Take care, Mrs. McBride.”
I hang up the phone.
“What did he want?” Dean asks.
“To let me know Arnie was released from the hospital and is in jail now.”
“Good,” he says, but I can tell by the look in his eyes jail isn’t where he wants Arnie. He wants him dead.
Dean starts up the car, caressing the steering wheel like he’s greeting an old friend. It purrs beneath his touch.
“Put your hands here and here,” he tells PJ, placing his little hands where he wants them. “Unless you’re turning, you keep the wheel straight, okay?”
PJ nods his head. I watch as Dean puts the car into drive, and we start to move. PJ’s eyes go wide in terror. The car wobbles as he struggles to keep it straight.
“You’re doing okay, buddy. Just keep going.”
Dean’s encouragement melts my heart. I snap a few photos on my phone of the two of them as Dean helps PJ maneuver the car around. Neither of them is looking at me, but it’s still the sweetest sight I’ve ever seen. I set the photo as my background before slipping the phone into my pocket.
Little moments like this are what I want my lifetime to be made of—even if Dean and I don’t last or our whole lives go up in flames. Ironic, considering it literally has. No matter the pain coming toward us, this is where I want to stay. What I want to remember when it’s all said and done.