Chapter 29 – Sebastian
Chapter
Twenty-Nine
SEBASTIAN
T he cabin is back the way we came, on the far side of London. It’s only about forty minutes from Archangel, but it feels like a different world. I drive through the night, letting her drift in and out of sleep, only waking her up when we’re finally there. It’s down a dirt track, and the entrance is barred with a massive wooden cattle gate. I have a surveillance array set up around the perimeter, but other than that, it’s low tech.
Lauren yawns and stretches when I gently nudge her awake, smiling at me and reaching up to stroke my face. I lean into her touch, kissing her palm. I climb out of the car and grab a torch from the back so I can light our way down the path. The whole place is like an enchanted forest from a fairytale, the trees surrounding the cabin on all sides and protecting it from the real world. It’s quiet at night, only the cries of owls and rustles of nocturnal animals piercing the silence. I’ve seen foxes here, badgers, all kinds of birds, and I once came across a solitary stag, his antlers proud against the sunlight.
“Seb,” she says, holding onto my hand as I lead her along the path. “This is so beautiful. It’s magical.”
“I’m glad you like it, sweetheart. I know tonight’s not the right time for it, but I’ve often thought what a great place it would be for a good old-fashioned chase.”
She stops and looks around. “Damn right it would. But no, not tonight. Tonight, I need to talk to you about something.”
“Oh shit. That doesn’t sound good. Am I in trouble?”
She smiles. “No, you’re definitely not in trouble.”
The cabin is chilly and has the musty smell places get when they’ve sat empty for too long. I switch on the lights and bring in some chopped logs so I can get the fire going. Before long, it’s casting a flickering orange glow around the cabin and warming the whole place up nicely. The main room doubles as both a living space and a bedroom, and Lauren wanders around it, inspecting my books and belongings, smiling at a framed photo of Max and Sam that I keep by the bed.
“You know,” she says, closing the curtains against the moonlight, “I could get used to this. Especially if I got to watch you chop logs with an actual axe. That’s kind of hot.”
“Too damn right it’s hot. I’m like a Viking warrior when I get going with my axe.”
“Oooh, I like the sound of that. So little time, so many games to play.”
I let out a manly roar and chase her around the room until she collapses giggling on the bed, hiding beneath the covers and pretending to be scared. “Big strong Viking warrior, please don’t ravish me—I’m just a little virgin girl from the countryside. Don’t spear me with your giant sword.”
“I definitely will, little virgin girl. Right after I make you hot chocolate and get you snacks.”
“That’s not a very Viking thing to say.” She pouts, her curly head popping out from the duvet.
“Well, I’m one of those Renaissance Vikings, aren’t I? Raping and pillaging one day, baking cookies the next.”
I use the time in the kitchen to catch my breath and calm myself down. It’s been a hell of a day—and night, I guess, seeing as how it’s almost four a.m. I feel like someone smashed me over the head with an anvil. I’m keeping it together for her sake, because she needs to feel safe and secure, but I’m a wreck. Coming so close to losing her shook me to my core, made me realize exactly how important she is to me. Torres is gone, but I’m not so naive as to assume that our lives from now on will be plain sailing. Neither of us is exactly conventional, and neither of us ever backs down from a fight or from doing what we think is right. That means that there will inevitably be trouble ahead. And I need to be ready for it.
I sprinkle the top of the chocolate with marshmallows and take the drinks through with a box of cookies. Her eyes light up, and she comes and joins me on the rug by the fire.
“So,” I say. “What did you want to talk to me about?” She sips her cocoa and sighs. “Aaah, that Viking dude sure knows how to make a girl happy. I don’t especially want to talk about it. I feel I have to. It’s about earlier.”
“Okay. But there was a whole lot of earlier, so you need to be more specific.”
“Earlier at your place, when you mentioned us having kids together.”
I nod and stay quiet. The way she reacted shocked me and later hurt me. Is it so repulsive a concept, the idea of starting a family with me? Is it too much of a commitment, something she’s not ready for? Or did I ambush her, catching her unaware?
“I don’t want you to think that I hate the idea. Or that my reaction reflected the way I feel about you. It’s actually nothing at all to do with you. I can’t have kids, Seb. Brad Schmidt and his pals did a number on me. I’m messed up, physically, and the doctors said it’s impossible to fix the damage. I’ll never be able to give you children.” She stares into the fire as she speaks, a blanket tucked around her shoulders and a chocolate mustache on her upper lip. The expression on her face is a heartbreaking blend of sad and nervous.
I ignore the rage that curls in my stomach at what those sick fucks did to her, what they took from her, because that won’t help. Instead, I slide my arm around her shoulders and hold her tight. “I’m so sorry that happened to you, sweetheart. And I’m sorry I blundered in and said what I said. That was insensitive of me.”
She smiles up at me, but her eyes are still tearful. “It was, yes, but it’s not like you’re the only one guilty of that. People assume they have every right to talk to a woman about this stuff—if you have kids, if you want them, when you might have them… Like it’s totally acceptable to ask about a deeply personal issue to do with their wishes and their reproductive health. Some women don’t want to be moms, and they shouldn’t have to explain that to the world. Some of us maybe do want to be moms, but it’s not possible for us. When you’re in your thirties, it becomes even more obvious. My own mother is constantly on my case about it. I don’t have the heart to explain why I’ll never make her a grandmother. It would break her; it would break all of them. Not even Alejandro knows what they did.”
“I’m sorry, babe. I can only imagine how hard it must be to be constantly asked those questions. I wish I hadn’t been one of the idiots who made assumptions. I remember asking you that first night in the cottage whether I needed to use a condom.”
“You did. And my answer was that you didn’t need to worry about me getting pregnant. I never said I was on birth control.”
It’s a subtle difference, and I’m not surprised I didn’t pick up on it at the time. I had other things on my mind that night, for sure. Now, though, I’m living in a different world. I don’t only want to fuck this woman—I want to treasure her. Cherish her. Make her happy for the rest of our lives together. I hate the fact that I played a part in upsetting her.
I kiss her curls and stare into the fire alongside her. “You do know, don’t you, sweetheart, that you are enough for me? What I said… I was being an idiot. It was a stupid fucking idea, and it only popped into my head because I had Max all day. I don’t need more children. Hell, I’m not sure I want more children. What I am sure about is the way I feel when I’m with you. I feel alive. Loved. I’m excited about all the possibilities the world holds for us, and I feel lucky to have ever met a woman as incredible as you. You, Lauren Maria Montoya Hayes, are enough for me in every single way.”
The vulnerability in her eyes takes my breath away. “Is that true, Seb? Or are you saying all that to make me feel better?”
I place my palms on either side of her face and kiss her tenderly on the lips. “It’s true, babe, I promise. All I need is you.”