Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Iran even though I knew I shouldn’t. Ghost wouldn’t have wanted me to run away from his son, but then, Ghost would have been livid that I had turned up at all. He had told me to stay away. It had practically been his dying wish, and I had ignored it .
Taking a sharp right from the cemetery car park, I headed into a more residential street. I didn’t know where I was going. All I knew was that I needed to get away. Lose myself in a crowd for a while.
Gio and Keeley were going to be angry at me as well. I had promised them I would stay by their side if they let me come, and here I was wandering around a part of the city I didn’t even know.
It was a stupid, foolish thing to do, and I knew it, but the last few months had made me stupid. It had been so quiet that it was almost like I was a normal girl living a normal life. Albeit one that was protected by one of the most feared men in the world.
It made me brave when I should have been cautious.
My feet slowed, and I wrapped my arms around myself, shivering. Looking around, I frowned. I didn’t know where the hell I was. Nothing about this street was familiar at all. And it was empty. Not one single person walked on either side of the road.
Unease crawled up my neck, making the hairs on my arms stand up under my thick coat.
This was probably the most stupid thing I had ever done. Running away without any idea where I was going or what I was doing.
I needed to go back. Carefully, because it was a miracle, I hadn’t slipped on the wet pavement the way I had sprinted out of there.
There was a tiny little coffee shop on the next corner, and my feet headed that way instead.
It made more sense to get myself into somewhere warm and safe and give Keeley a call.
Gio would be mad, but he would have someone come and get me to take me home.
And while I waited, I could gather my thoughts about me.
Ghost had been right. This part of my life was over. No more London and no more Savage Sons. I wasn’t built for their crassness and their nasty ways. I just wanted to go home.
Pushing into the shop, I stood there for a second. It was as empty as the street. Only an elderly woman behind the counter. She took one look at me and came around.
“You look like hell, love.” She shook her head. “What are you doing running around in the rain in your condition? Come and sit down and I’ll get you a nice cup of tea.”
Shrugging off my soaked black coat, I let her help me into one of the seats. “Thank you.”
She hovered for a second. “Are you sure you’re ok?”
“Yes.” Placing my hands on the table, I stared at them and willed them to stop shaking. They didn’t, so I twisted my finger together. “I was just at a…”
Her eyes swept over my dress. “A funeral. I see. Well, you warm up and I’ll get you a nice cup of tea.”
I smiled my thanks at her and went back to staring at my hands.
I needed to call someone and to let them know I was safe, but I just couldn’t seem to force myself to move.
Legacy had every right to be mad at me because he didn’t know the truth. I just hadn’t expected to be attacked like that, not right there. And then there was Pocket.
My hand curved around the swell of my stomach, and I smiled.
Keeley had never once asked me who the father was, so I hadn’t offered the information, but I had expected Pocket to ask.
I had practised what I would say to him. How I would explain, but he hadn’t asked. In fact, he hadn’t said anything at all. All he had done was look at me with disgust and the kind of dismissal that shattered my heart.
I was so stupid to think that only because I had thought about him non stop that he had been doing the same.
The door opened, letting in a gust of cold air and rain, but I didn’t look up.
“Hello?” A pair of shiny black shoes and the cuff of tailored black trousers filled my view as the man stopped right by my chair.
I let out a sigh. “Hi.” I said without looking up. “I was just going to call Gio. Can you let them know that I am fine and that I am sorry? I didn’t mean to run away like that. It was silly and—”
The chair opposite me scraped back, and my head snapped upwards to stare at the man.
“It was silly,” he said softly. His voice was overly friendly, and I blinked in surprise.
He looked like someone who would work for Gio. Dark hair, dark eyes, dark suit, and that’s what I’d assumed he was. Someone Gio and Keeley had sent after me. But he wasn’t looking at me like I was a stranger and he wasn’t making a move to call his boss, either.
“Don’t worry, I’ll text him.” I reached for my bag and his hand lashed out and smashed my hand down onto the table.
“Put the phone down, Chloe.” His fingers squeezed as he barked out the order. I dropped the phone back into my bag and froze.
“You don’t work for Gio,” I said flatly.
“No. I don’t work for anyone but myself.” His fingers flexed around my wrist in time with my thundering heart beat.
“And I’ve been looking for you for such a long time to bring you home where you belong.”
My heart took off at a gallop. Lifting my eyes, I searched his face. I didn’t know him and he looked different to how I imagined, but I knew who he was. He haunted my nightmares.
The man sitting opposite me, holding my arm in a vice-like grip, was the reason I had never had a normal life.
“I’ve been waiting for you to come home for years, Ciara .” His thumb brushed over the back of my hand and I fought the urge to pull my arm back.
“That’s not my name and I am not going anywhere with you,” I managed to whisper, and anger made his eyes glaze.
“Is that right?” He cocked his head to the side, and I hated the way he looked at me. It was too familiar. Like we had been intimate, like he knew me.
But this was our first meeting. Something I had been avoiding for the bulk of my life.
“I have been patient, but I won’t be patient any longer, Ciara. You are coming home with me.”
“I am not Ciara. My name is Chloe.”
“No more, Ciara.” Again he called me by my dead mother's name. Leaning across the table, he smashed his mouth down on mine.
Vomit rushed up my throat. I didn’t know what was worse: the feel of his lips on mine or the fact that he kept calling me my mother’s name.
My dead mother’s widow kept calling me by her name. Like he wanted me to be her.
Like he wanted me to replace the woman he had killed.