Chapter 17 Alex
ALEX
The day after we returned from Napa, I sat in Ben’s conference room across from Darren.
He slouched in his chair like a troublemaking teen in English class, tapping his fingers on the armrest, eyes darting around the room like he was casing the place.
When he shifted forward, the sour tang of cigarette smoke and cheap beer followed.
Next to me, Ben slid a neat folder across the polished oak. “This is the finalized agreement we discussed,” he said evenly. “Mr. Kincaid, you relinquish your parental rights to Peter and Isabella, and, in exchange, Mr. Garcia will provide a lump-sum payment.”
Darren didn’t touch the folder. He smirked instead, yellowed teeth flashing. “So that’s how it works in your world, huh? You throw money at the problem. Buy the kids from me?”
My fingers curled against my thighs, nails biting into my palms. “Darren, don’t pretend like you’ve ever wanted them. You’ve been an absent criminal.”
He watched me for a beat too long, gaze calculating. “And I’m just supposed to roll over? Just like that?” He let out a bark of laughter.
“Let’s not pretend you want anything out of this but money,” I said. “At least be honest about that.”
“The offer’s on the table,” Ben cut in smoothly. “It ensures you walk away clean and gives Alex the chance to adopt the children formally. Children he has raised. Children who think of him as their father. You walk away with a clean slate and a generous payout.”
Darren finally reached for the folder, leaving a greasy smudge on the glossy surface. He flipped through the pages like he could actually read the legalese, before getting to the lump sum section.
We’d been generous enough to tempt a man who lived in chosen poverty, but hardly a dent in my accounts.
Darren’s lips pursed. He tapped the page once, twice. “It’s not enough. Two kids? That’s gotta be worth more. I mean, how bad do you really want them?”
My jaw locked, molars grinding together. I’d spent years searching for this man—private investigators, skip tracers, dead-end leads. All of it had broken my wife’s heart over and over again. And now he had the audacity to negotiate. I’d never felt so close to murderous in all my life.
Ben’s voice stayed calm, practiced. “It’s more than generous, given your history of abandonment. Their mother is deceased, Mr. Kincaid, and Alex has raised them for over a decade. If we go to court, your criminal record will not help you. This is the best outcome for you.”
I leaned forward, fists clenched in my lap. “Payment for doing absolutely nothing except what you do best—disappear.”
“I’ll think about it.” Darren leaned back with his arms crossed. “Maybe have my attorney look at it.”
“If you had an attorney, you’d have brought him with you today,” I said. “Stop lying and sign the papers. For once in your life, do the right thing for the children you helped create but left without a backward glance. The longer you drag this out, the more they suffer. Don’t you see that?”
A smirk of satisfaction flickered across Darren’s face. He sensed my boiling point and was loving every minute of it. He shoved the folder back across the table. “Like I said, I’ll think on it.” He stood, sauntering out of the room as if he’d won something. The door clicked shut behind him.
I couldn’t move. My chest felt like someone had laced it too tight, my pulse hammering in my ears. Through the window, I watched him climb into a rusted pickup truck, pausing to light a cigarette before he pulled away.
Ben gathered the papers with deliberate precision. “Men like him rarely walk away clean. He’ll come back. And when he does, he’ll want more.”
I stayed there, staring at the greasy fingerprint Darren had left behind on the table. Just hours ago, I’d been replaying Gillian’s laughter in my head, the sound of her voice under the Napa stars. Now, all that peace felt fragile—like a dream already slipping away.
Panic fluttered in my chest, choking me. Darren still had power. And there wasn’t a thing I could do about it but pray. He would not win in court, of that I felt certain. But what toll would a trial take on my children who had already suffered so much?
By the time I pulled into Gillian’s driveway, the knot in my chest had spread to my stomach.
Darren’s smirk, the way he’d pushed the folder back across the table, every moment spent in his presence replaying in my mind in a tortuous loop.
I’d thought he’d take the deal. But he seemed to be enjoying himself too much.
He would string me along for as long as he could.
Sitting in the car, I texted Peter to make sure he was safe at home. He texted back that he was fine. Sonya had just made him pancakes and sausages.
I got out of the car and walked toward the house. The front door opened before I could knock. Gillian stood there in leggings and a tight workout shirt, her hair loose around her shoulders. I wanted to slump against her, have her hold me up, but I didn’t want Bella to see me that way.
“Hey there,” she said, her smile faltering when she got a good look at my face.
“I’m sorry I’m so late,” I said. “It’s been a morning.”
“It’s no problem. But Bella’s not here. She and Grace want to cook us dinner, and Esme offered to take them shopping. I thought I’d better wait here for you.”
I tried for a smile. “Dinner. That’s nice.”
She stepped aside to let me in. “It’s pretty cute. Come on in. Do you want coffee? Something to eat?”
I shook my head. “No thanks. I couldn’t eat or drink at the moment.”
She held my hand, leading me over to the couch. Socks and Clementine took one look at me and darted upstairs.
“Don’t mind them,” Gillian said. “They’re horrible little creatures.”
Normally that would have made me laugh, but I was too distraught. I sank onto the couch, my elbows on my knees, head in my hands. The cushion dipped as Gillian sat beside me, close enough that her thigh pressed against mine.
“Tell me what happened.” She brushed her fingers through my hair.
I exhaled, rubbing my temples with my fingers, before looking at her. “Ben presented our offer—money in exchange for Darren signing over his rights to both kids. He wouldn’t commit. Said he’d ‘think about it.’”
“Do you think he’s holding out for more money?”
“Without a doubt.” The words came out harsher than I meant them to. “He wanted more. And men like Darren always want more. He’ll drag this out as long as he can squeeze something from it.”
Her hand settled on my back, between my shoulder blades, and I felt the tension there like a coiled spring. “Alex, Bella and Peter have you. That’s what matters. Whatever game Darren’s playing, they know who their father is.”
I turned to look at her. “This could go to court. Which is the last thing I want for the kids. The courts will give me custody, I don’t doubt that.
But a trial would disrupt Bella and Peter’s lives, and that’s the last thing they need.
Not after losing their mom. It’s too much.
” A sob rose from my chest. “Gillie, I don’t know what to do. ”
Her hand slid to my shoulder, and she shifted closer. “It’s going to be okay. The kids are tough. And I’ll be here with you and for the kids.”
My throat tightened. I reached up, covering her hand with mine. “I hate that this is what I’m dealing with when I want to focus on you. On us. On the fact that I’m falling in love with you. Again.”
Gillian’s breath caught. She hugged me, resting her chin on my shoulder for a second. “I feel the same way. But as we’ve talked about before, complications are a part of being a human. Especially when you have kids.”
“Are you sure about this? About me? I’m a mess, and I’m yanking you into it.” My voice cracked on the last word.
She cupped my face, turning me toward her. Her eyes were fierce. “I’m sure.”
I leaned into her touch. The warmth of her palm against my jaw, the steadiness in her voice keeping me from falling completely apart.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” I said, barely above a whisper. “Thank you for being here.”
“You’ve already thanked me, but you’re welcome.” Her fingers threaded into my hair, and she brushed her mouth against mine. “Please, try not to worry. It’s all going to work out in the end.”
I wanted to believe her. Sitting there with her wrapped around me, I almost did.
The sound of tires crunching over gravel pulled us both to the window.
Esme’s car rolled into the drive, and the moment the girls climbed out of the backseat I knew something was wrong.
Grace’s braid was messy and her face as pale as expensive card stock.
Madison hopped out clutching her unicorn, seemingly oblivious, but the other two girls moved like they were carrying weights on their backs.
I ran out the front door, my gut cold, with Gillian right behind me. Esme rounded the car, her cheeks flushed.
“What’s happened?” Gillian asked.
“It’s Darren.” Bella burst into tears and launched herself into my arms. “He was in town.”
The name hit like a punch to my lower abdomen. “Did he hurt you?”
“No, but he shoved Grace,” Bella said against my shoulder.
“What?” It came out as a roar that clearly frightened everyone. “He shoved Grace?”
Madison started crying. Esme knelt to whisper something in her ear. The child nodded—holding tight to her unicorn—and ran into the house.
“He must have seen us walking into the store,” Esme said. “And followed us.”
“Grace, tell me exactly what happened.” My voice came out low, edged with steel I couldn’t temper.
“Um … okay … I was in the pasta aisle reading labels about how much sugar a jar of sauce had in it like my mom does, and all of a sudden this big, smelly man came around the corner. He was talking weird.”
“Weird how?” Gillian asked softly.
Grace bit her bottom lip. “Just drunk talk, I guess. About how he didn’t have any use for spoiled girls and that I should stay away from Bella. At least, I think that’s what he said. I was so scared I kind of blacked out.”