Chapter 8 #3
She heard a bloody hell and a minute later felt Alex behind her. Then his large hands were on her shoulders. “Please, don’t walk away, Amanda.” His voice was gentle now.
She turned. “Why is Sam with you?”
“Probably because she felt lost without you and the children.”
“I’m sure she was fine.”
“Really? She’s your best friend and she’s been by your side for months.”
“Some best friend for keeping an entire husband from me for over a month, but whatever.” Amanda clutched Zander closer, turned, and began walking again.
She felt him behind her the entire time.
She couldn’t keep what she was thinking inside any longer and finally turned.
With her free hand, she smacked his chest and yelled, “We were married!”
He grabbed her shoulders, pulled her in, and got right in her face. “We are married!” he yelled back.
“There’s no record that I was ever married.” She’d gone through the files Stan had showed her repeatedly since arriving in Chicago.
“I was there,” he bit out. “So were you.”
“But I don’t even really know you, Alex. How am I supposed to remember any of that?” He took it like a slap, actually physically recoiling, but regained control a second later. Well, bully for you. Still bothered by another thought she said, “You tricked me!”
“I have never deceived you.”
“You purchased JDL Security so you’d have access to your children.”
“I purchased JDL to find you!”
If she was so important to him, if they were really married, where was her frigging wedding band? “You’re wearing an eight-thousand-dollar suit. Two-thousand-dollar loafers. And word on the street is you’re richer than Midas.”
“And you’re wearing three-hundred-dollar jeans, eight-hundred-dollar boots, and your jacket cost at least eleven hundred. What’s your point?”
“I. Don’t. Have. A. Ring.” She held up her left hand to emphasize her point. Scars, plenty. Ring, no.
“Bloody hell, Amanda!” he yelled. “You really want to do this? Now?”
“Apparently!”
“You. Don’t. Care. For. Jewelry,” he told her.
Her eyes narrowed—true, but… “What woman doesn’t like jewelry?”
“You.”
“Well, I would have wanted a simple band.”
“You did.”
“Where is it?”
“On a chain,” he ground out, “around my neck.”
“Why?”
“Why?” he repeated in a shout.
“Yes, Al—Montgomery.” Oh, jeez, this was so confusing. Still, she spit out, “Why?”
“Have you seen your hand lately?” he shouted again, then grabbed her left hand and held it up. “What do you think caused this gash along your finger?”
Her eyes went wide. “You took it from me?”
“What?” He couldn’t believe what she’d asked. “Are you serious?”
She sucked in audible breath. “How dare you speak to me that way!”
“How dare I?” He lifted her right off the ground. Their argument had become so heated his men had surrounded them, and Stan was talking to a police officer someone had called. “You want to know why your wedding band is around my neck?”
“Rich and smart. Just my luck.” His eyes narrowed even more, his mouth settled into a fine line, and the muscles in his neck corded. She was literally right in his face. Nose to nose. He’d brought her there.
“You. Let. Go. For ten months those three words have haunted my every waking and sleeping moment. You let go, Amanda!”
He’d bellowed each word at her. The anger, she felt. But the pain in his eyes caused her to sharply inhale. She realized the gravity of what he’d just told her. She suddenly felt ill.
It must have showed because he gently lowered her to the ground and scrutinized every inch of her face. She could see the marks on the inside of his wrist as he cupped her face and tilted it this way and that. There were four crescent-shaped scars. Like a hand had been there, holding on.
She could barely hear her own voice when she said, “You’re right. We’ll do this later.” She couldn’t look at him anymore. Her head was spinning as she started walking back the way they’d come.
Alexander took Zander as soon as Amanda turned to him.
They were just approaching the entrance of her building.
She’d barely been able to enunciate the word please as she held their son out to him.
Stan, Stephen, and Trevor were the only ones still waiting outside.
Stan turned the key for the penthouse elevator.
Once inside, Amanda pushed herself into the corner.
Her hand was gripping the rail. She was staring at the now faint scars that marred the top.
Scars he’d put there in his desperate attempt to hold on to her as she’d let go of his wrist and slipped through his fingers.
There was a scar along the inside of her ring finger from where the band scraped the bone when it had come off in the struggle. She looked up at him then.
Bloody hell, he knew that look. He passed Zander to Stan and stepped in front of her as she turned three shades of green. He palmed her forehead to keep her hair back just before she threw up in her tote bag.
She’d just completed round three when they reached her floor. Stephen cleared the elevator and waited outside the door as she finally dragged her hand across her mouth and shuddered.
“Done?” he asked, reaching for the bag.
“Uh-huh.” Amanda nodded, closing her eyes as he brushed her hair back.
Stephen stepped inside for the second it took to grab Amanda’s bag and hand him a water bottle. “Just enough to wet your mouth,” Alexander said, passing it to her. She took the smallest sip and let her head fall back.
“Amanda?” She had the strangest look in her eyes. And that was saying a lot, considering. “What’s going through that clever mind of yours?”
She shook her head as if to clear it. “Are you going to take her from me?”
“I would never take either of them from you.”
“You could. You have the resources and enough evidence to lock me up. Maybe for good.”
Bloody hell! She thought he’d use her breakdown against her. “I’m not having you locked up, Amanda,” he lied. Because he absolutely was. With him. And their children. And the gaggle of people he’d collected along his way. “Now that I’ve found you, I’m not going anywhere. Ever. Again.”
“Why did you come back?”
“Back?” he repeated. “I. Didn’t. Leave. You,” he said, speaking evenly to keep the anger out of his voice.
“I feel broken, Alexander. If you didn’t leave me before, you should now.”
“Listen to me, Amanda. Very carefully. I will fix you. I will.”
“You’re too late.”
“Story of our lives,” he said. Would she ever remember? “Always too late.”
“You should really work on that.”
“I’m trying.”
She took a deep, fortifying breath, then said, “Okay. Let’s do this.”
Alexander gave her a good once-over, tilted her face, and looked in her eyes. “You’re okay?”
“Define okay.”
He shook his head. “Can’t anymore.”
“Then all I’ve got is a big fake smile,” she said, pasting one on, “and a ‘ready’!”
The corner of his mouth lifted slightly. “That’s my girl.” He couldn’t help brushing his lips across her forehead. She didn’t resist. “Let’s go.”
As soon as they passed through the foyer, Amanda headed toward her room but ran into Rosa in the hallway. “Rosa, Mr. Montgomery is taking us—” She paused. She didn’t know where he was taking them. “To be honest, I don’t know where. Can you start packing—”
“I’m taking you back to California, Amanda. Backpacks and comfortable clothes for the ride, Rosa.”
Alexander watched Amanda make her way down the hallway. She reached for the wall twice for support before she turned into what he assumed was her bedroom. Samantha was watching her as well, and he motioned with his head for her to check on her.
When Sam came back a minute later, he was holding Zander as Rosa sat on the floor with Callie preparing a bottle. “Angel, can you go with Uncle Stephen and get your backpack ready?” He waited until they turned into her room before giving Samantha his full attention.
“She kicked me out,” she said with disbelief in her voice. “She brushed her teeth, took off her shoes, looked right at me, and told me to leave.”
“Give her time,” Alexander said as he brushed past her, hoping he was right. He grabbed the bottle for Zander, a good prop, and headed for Amanda’s room. He knocked as he opened the bedroom door.
“Amanda?” he called. Zander fussed again. “Shh…shh…Mama’s going to feed you,” he promised his son. She came right out then, looking adorable with her hair up and face scrubbed. She’d changed into cashmere lounge pants and a hoodie. She plucked Zander off his chest and took the bottle from his hand.
“Mama’s got you, baby,” she cooed. “How much time do I have?” she asked.
“Twenty minutes good?” When she nodded, he grabbed the tote she’d put on the floor. “What do you need from the other one?”
“The one I threw up in?” she asked.
“Yeah. That one.”
“My wallet. I’ll get it.”
“Rosa already fished it out.”
“Tell her thank you,” she said, a look of pure relief and gratitude passing over her face. “She’ll know what else to put in it.” He gave a nod and closed the door behind him.
Closer to twenty-five minutes later, Amanda walked into Callie’s room where he was sprawled on her bed, Callie right next to him showing him something on her iPad.
He had her tucked in tight under his arm, loving the feel of his daughter curled against him.
Callie had changed into a blue tracksuit, and Alexander into jeans and a T-shirt.
Amanda looked like she was about to leave them when he held up his hand and motioned her over.
When she was sitting on the edge of the bed, Alexander asked, “Ready?” She gave him her brightest smile.
Callie giggled. “Big fake smile,” she whispered.
Alexander tweaked her nose. “I know, angel.” Then he looked at Amanda. “Your mama’s specialty.”
“It’s so strange to hear you talk about me like that.” She shook her head. “It’s true, of course,” she said, smiling at Callie as she reached out to touch her. “And it happens to be my favorite defense mechanism.”