Chapter 4 #2
Those goddamn blue eyes I’d never been able to forget lifted and met mine. Tears brimmed, hurt shone, guilt clear.
None of those things began to touch what I was feeling.
“I understand.”
“No, Brooklyn, you don’t. And be very thankful you’ll never understand what it feels like to miss your boy coming into this world. Hearing him cry as he draws his first lungful of oxygen. Be very fucking grateful you’ll never understand because it hurts like a motherfucker.”
I watched as pain carved straight through Brooklyn. Tears spilled down her pretty cheeks, making her eyes glimmer—not the way they did in my dreams—right then, they were shining and full of remorse.
Standing there in the office of a bookstore less than forty-five minutes from my cabin—a store I’d walked past a handful of times but never paid any mind—in front of a woman who was the mother of my son.
A woman I knew really fucking well but at the same time didn’t know at all.
I felt my throat clog. I felt my skin start to tingle.
I felt my soul yearn for a boy I didn’t know.
“Fucking shit,” I choked out. “I have to go.”
I turned, took two steps, stopped, and looked back.
“I want to know my boy, but right now I need to…Christ, I don’t know what I need.
I don’t know what to say to you or him. I don’t know how to make this right.
I know you don’t know me, so promising you a bunch of shit right now won’t mean anything to you, but straight up, Brooklyn, I’m a man of my word, and I’m going to be in Remington’s life, and that’s a guarantee. ”
I heard her suck in a breath and listened to the sob fill the room. With an ungodly amount of effort, I fought the need to pull her into my arms and instead walked out the door.
I needed to leave for a variety of reasons. The biggest being I needed to get a lock on my emotions before I said something I couldn’t take back. I needed to plan, and I needed to come up with a good one and do it fast.
Remington.
Cool fucking name.
A name I hadn’t helped pick out. But if I’d been around, I would’ve agreed, maybe even suggested it.
When I hit the big open space, I glanced around.
My gaze landed on my son talking to Davis, and my heart pounded in my chest. Letty was next to Remy, her hand on his shoulder, standing sentry.
She knew who I was but she didn’t know me or Davis.
Letty was playing nice, but she wasn’t letting Remy out of her sight.
I liked that, too; my boy had people in his life who loved and protected him.
That was to say, I loved my boy was protected, but I really fucking hated I wasn’t the one doing the deed.
That shit was going to change.
I made my way across the room, taking in the bookshelves lining the walls, the smaller line of cases in the middle of the room, a sitting area in the back corner that right then had three people lounging, stacks of books on the coffee table in front of them as they talked quietly.
As soon as I was close, I heard my son’s disbelieving question.
“You were?”
The disbelief also held a hit of excitement, and jealousy slammed into me with such a force I rocked to a halt.
“I was. Rhode was in the Navy with me.”
“He was?”
“Yep,” Davis returned.
“Did you paint your face and crawl through the mud and catch bad guys?”
“Sure did.”
Davis glanced up and gave me a chin lift that did nothing to quell my urge to kick my friend in the balls for merely talking to Remy—something I had yet to do beyond complimenting his name.
Remington craned his neck, his dark brown eyes landed on me, and I stood frozen, absorbing the pain of my son staring at me like the stranger I was.
Like a boy who doesn’t know he’s looking at his father.
Fuck.
I had to leave. Regroup. Get my head straight.
Davis being a close friend, a smart man—the kind who paid attention and didn’t miss the tension in the room, broke the silence.
“Letty, I appreciate your hospitality. We’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Yeah, Davis. And thank you. My mom and dad will be grateful. We all are.”
Davis must’ve used his time with Letty to explain Takeback’s new role in the investigation of her sister’s disappearance.
Letty’s gaze came to me. Her arm slid around Remy’s shoulders and she gave him a weak smile.
“It’s really great to finally meet you, Rhode.”
Her maneuver was defensive, curling Remy closer, but her statement was friendly. In other words, I was welcome to get to know my son, but I’d be doing it under a microscope. The boy had people who cared and loved him, and all of them, including Letty, would be watching me.
That pissed me right the fuck off. The unfairness of it. The mere thought that Letty knew my son better than I did, that she’d likely been at Brooklyn’s side when Remy was born, was a punch to the gut.
“Remy, it was cool to meet you.” Davis lifted his hand and tousled the boy’s hair, and red-hot fury shot through me.
“Will you be back?”
I jolted when I realized Remy was talking to me.
Pain and pleasure seeped into my veins.
And with my attention riveted on my boy, I answered, “Yeah, bud, I’ll be back soon.”
It must be said that Remington Saunders—soon to be Remington Daley—didn’t miss much if the way he sized me up was any indication.
Farewells were exchanged, and it wasn’t until we were out the door and in my Jeep that Davis spoke.
“He’s yours.”
I didn’t answer mainly because Davis wasn’t asking. You’d have to be blind or stupid not to see Remington was mine.
“Christ, brother, I don’t know what to say.”
Neither did I, so I didn’t say anything.
I drove in silence. The air trapped in the Jeep was so thick it nearly suffocated me, so heavy it filled my chest and constricted my heart.
Biggest fuck-up of my entire life.