Chapter 6
SIX
LAYA
T he door to the SUV closes behind me, and Carlos walks around the other side. He slides inside casually, but the moment the door slams shut, the car becomes heated under his glare. “Did he give you the necklace?” His eyes dart toward the necklace, and there’s hurt mixed with rage in his eyes, and I hate myself for it, but stupidly, my hand moves toward it. “Fucking answer me! Did you take me, your husband and father of your child, to dinner with your ex-lover’s necklace around your neck?”
A whimper catches in my throat, not because he’s scaring me, but because I hurt him. For years, I’ve kept it around my neck like a treasure. In Owen’s eyes, it was probably a sign of my pathetic devotion, and in my husband’s eyes, a sign of my betrayal. “Mi amorrrr.” His voice has an unhinged edge to it, one that sends a shiver down my spine, one I’ve not heard until today, and the thought has a gnawing ball of anxiety throbbing inside me.
I know this looks like I’m not over Owen, that I’m holding onto the past when my future should lie with him.
“Yes,” I breathe out, averting my eyes as guilt rolls in my stomach like acid.
His face twists in disgust, then in a flash, his hand snaps the chain from around my neck as my heart slams in my chest, making it difficult for me to breathe through the shock of his actions.
Satisfaction flashes behind his eyes as I stare at him with my mouth agape, and desperation to repair the betrayal of me taking the necklace off floods me.
My heart hammers precariously, and I feel the need to reassure him of where my loyalty lies—with the father of our unborn baby—no matter how much it pains me to sever the only connection I have with Owen.
I pull my shoulders back with a renewed vigor, then swallow harshly and clear my throat. “I don’t need it anymore, Carlos. I only need you. You and our son.” I nod at him, hoping my words appease him.
“Romero,” he states, and I furrow my brow. “Our son, I want to name him Romero after my brother.”
“Romero,” I repeat with a nod while stroking over my bump. “You don’t talk about them.” I know Carlos has suffered the loss of his family, and I hate that for him. One night when he was drunk, he told me they were hurt, and as a small boy, he saw it happen. He divulged no more information than that, and as time moves on with him, I’ve come to the conclusion that he fears me knowing what happened, so he pretends they never existed.
He entwines our hands and kisses my fingers. “I have everything I need right here.”
“Why did Owen ask to meet with you?”
His lips move over my hand. “Simple, he wants you.”
My heart catches in my chest as I stare at him, then a strangled laugh escapes me while he narrows his gaze on me. “Owen does not want me.”
His lip quirks, and he tilts his head. “Oh, I can assure you he does.” His tone is serious, and the intensity behind his eyes is like something I’ve never seen before. It terrifies me. The man I’ve grown to love is about to go to war with the man I’ve always loved. “He can try to take you from me, but he’ll soon learn how far I’m willing to go to keep you.” My gaze flicks back and forth over his face. “You and Romero are my world, and I intend to keep it that way.” He kisses my hand, as if trying to reassure me, but there’s something about the way he speaks that unnerves me, an undercurrent that fills me with uncertainty.
I turn away and stare out the window, hoping he doesn’t see the way trepidation is bleeding from my pores, then realize where we are. Turning to face him, I ask, “Why are we at an airfield?”
He lifts my hand once more. “We’re moving to our forever home, mi amor. It’s in Mexico.”
Shock hits me and pain lances through me and into my stomach, and I cry out. We’re moving even farther away from my family, making me even more lonely and isolated than ever before.
“It’s okay, mi amor, everything is waiting for us at home.” It’s the last thing I remember as my vision turns hazy and blackness consumes me.