26. Chapter 26
Chapter 26
Duncan
" D uncan, I—"
"Shut the fuck up, Dom." I kept staring at the door she walked out of and felt like she took a part of me with her.
Divorce? Annulment?
"You have nothing from me."
Fuck no. Everything inside me rebelled at the idea. I couldn't let her go. She was having my baby. I trusted her. Damn it, yes I did. Why had I let Dom into my ear? Why had I let my own insecurities turn me against Elsa?
"If you ever scare my wife like that again, I'll fucking kill you," I said calmly.
He sighed. "I needed to—"
"Never fucking again, Dom. I broke her. I fucking... broke her when I let you talk to her the way you did."
"I know. I saw." Dom hung his head, and I stared at him.
"What is this I see on your face? Regret?"
He swallowed. "Yeah."
"You never regret anything; since you think your shit doesn’t stink because you're saving the world," I snapped.
There was no point being angry with Dom and calling him names. He wasn't the one who lost a wife; that fucking moron was me.
She'd looked at me when Dom first threatened her, waiting for me to jump in and defend her, and I hadn't. I just sat there when I wanted to pound my fist into Dom's face.
"I don't have any evidence, but I know people, and you were right. She's not involved in her father's business, and I don't think she knows fuck all about Vincent."
"How did you figure that out?" I demanded.
He shrugged. "I could see it. I'm so sorry. I have tunnel vision, you know that. I need to get inside Arsenault's house, into his inner circle. I had no problems using your wife until…"
"Until what?"
"Until she looked like she'd lost fucking everything—all her joy and the light inside her." He rubbed a hand over his chest.
"I don't understand," I said, throwing my hands up in the air. "Why did you keep pushing her, then?"
"Because I can't let white phosphorous get into the hands of any war mongers; especially since, as you’ve noticed, we have a few wars happening around the world. Can you imagine the damage this could do in Ukraine? In Gaza? In Syria? Jesus, Duncan, I see fucking horrors all day, every day, so, I push every advantage I can get." He lifted his hands and rubbed them over his face.
"We're done, Dom. You need something from now on; find someone else to be your errand boy," I said quietly. He was sorry, and I was sorry, but the person who suffered the most was Elsa, and she didn't fucking deserve it.
"What are you going to do?" Dom asked.
"I don't know," I said honestly.
I had no idea what to do. I didn’t know Elsa well enough to tell if her talk of divorce was serious or just said in anger. I didn’t really know my wife at all. If I did, I wouldn’t have doubted her. I’d have known that the only reason she was going in and out of Vincent Arsenault’s house was for an altruistic reason—because that’s who Elsa is.
"You want me to speak with her? Explain this clusterfuck?"
I gaped at him. "You go anywhere near my wife, Dom, I'll gut you. I promise you that."
Dom nodded. "I understand you're pissed. But we need to eyes on Moreau and—"
"Get someone else to do your dirty work," I bellowed. "I am finished with you. And keep your hands off Dean as well. He's done working with you. The Archers are finished with whatever the fuck government agency you belong to from whichever country."
Dom frowned. "You know I work for the American government, don't you?"
"No, asshole. And I don't buy it when you say that, because two years ago, you seemed pretty cozy with the Mossad."
He shrugged. "That was just a, well, I can't talk about what that was."
I arched an eyebrow, and he nodded as if understanding that he had so many legends and identities that it was hard for a civilian like me to keep track of who he was and what he did.
After Dom left, I went to the Marais; what the hell else was there to do. I knocked on Elsa's door. I was fully prepared to use the key she gave me. I had no qualms about walking in unannounced, but I'd already fucked up, and I didn't need to add to my sins.
The door opened after just two knocks.
She was in one of her long flower maxi dresses. Her hair was loose, and she looked like a pregnant Goddess who had been crying.
"Baby—"
"I already sent your things to the Ritz," she told me.
"What?"
"Your things? I sent them to the Ritz."
It had been three hours since she was in my office; how the fuck did she manage to do that so quickly.
"I don't care about my things. I want to talk to you."
She folded her arms.
"Can we do this inside?" I was still at her doorstep.
" Non ."
Beggars couldn't be choosers, so I stood where she set me. "I had no choice."
"There is always a choice."
"This was life or death, Elsa. Vincent Arsenault is trafficking chemical weapons and—"
"This isn’t about Vincent. This is about you. The decent thing would’ve been to just ask me about him and see if I’d help. But instead, you sent some wannabe American James Bond to intimidate me, thinking his cock is so big he can throw it around at a nice French girl and she’ll be terrified."
I almost smiled at the image, but thankfully didn’t. Elsa might have been crying before she opened the door, but right now, she was furious—and my ill-timed amusement would probably get me kneed in the balls.
"You're right."
"But you couldn't do it that way, could you?"
I looked her in the eye, feeling disgusted with myself. "No."
"Because you don't have any faith in me."
I sighed. "I don't even know you."
She smirked. "But I trusted you, Duncan, I waited for you to ask your friend to stop threatening me with custody while I'm pregnant. But you didn't."
"That would never happen. It was just a threat to get you to cooperate." Shut the fuck up, Duncan, you're making it worse .
Her eyes widened, and I wasn't surprised. What I had just said was horrible and unfortunately, also true.
"You let him scare me. I'm your wife. The woman you've been sleeping with. The woman you married. The woman you made love with last night." Her eyes filled with tears, and I was ready to go on my knees to beg her to stop crying. I couldn't stand to see her in pain. I just fucking, couldn't. And this was the worst because I was the reason for her sadness.
"What do you want me to say?" I didn't know how to make this right. I didn't have experience in apologizing or making amends, yet with Elsa, I felt like I kept fucking up so I needed to learn, pronto .
"You're not good for me," she whispered.
"No. Don't say that." I felt tears prick my eyes. An alien feeling because I didn't fucking cry, ever .
"You're not good for me or our baby." She put her hands on her belly. "You let that man scare your pregnant wife. My heartbeat went up. My baby felt that."
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
"How can I fix this?" I managed to say through a throat constricted with pain.
"You can't." She smiled sadly at me. "Once the baby is born, we'll do a DNA test so you never have any doubts about—"
"I have no doubts," I quickly said. "None at all. You're mine. The baby is mine. I know that."
She shook her head. "We'll do a DNA test, and then we can discuss visitation. Until I'm convinced you won't harm our child, all visits will have to be supervised."
"Harm our child?" I inanely repeated.
"What you did today by not defending me, Duncan, showed me that you don't care about me or our baby. What if next time you let them kidnap our child to pressure me into doing something? How do I know that won't happen?"
I felt lightheaded. I couldn't believe the accusations she was flinging at me. How could she think that of me?
But you thought your pregnant wife was canoodling with an arm's dealer? It's the same coin, but it has a different face, Duncan.
"I'll never harm our child and never let you get hurt. Please, believe me."
She shook her head. "I can't. I think you're the kind of man who'll use whomever he can to gain an advantage. I don't know what your relationship with Dom or Jett or whoever he is, but I know that you were ready to sacrifice me for it."
"No," I cried out. "No. He's tracking chemical weapons that can be used in a war, Elsa. I had to help him."
"If you'd told me that, maybe we could’ve talked about how I could help you. Instead, you decided to threaten me," she said forlornly. "I have nothing to say to you now. I'll contact you after the baby is born. Don't come back."
" No ." The word was a scream. "Fuck no. I can't stay away from you. I…I need to see our baby grow within you."
"You lost that privilege." She stepped back into her apartment and shut the door in my face.
I stumbled, catching myself on the ornate railing of the staircase. It was truly over. I had lost her. But if it was her I’d lost, why did I feel like I’d also lost myself on the way?