31. Sylvie
THIRTY-ONE
SYLVIE
Dad
Had to teach your guard dog a lesson. So that’s the kind of man you’re tying yourself to?
I paced across the hardwood floors of the living room. I’d be shocked if there wasn’t a groove below my feet from worrying about Duke. My emotions tumbled from praying he was okay, to being completely shocked he’d left me at the hospital so he could feed into this ridiculous and childish rivalry.
I’d finally settled into pissed right the fuck off .
The crunch of tires on snow had me waddling toward the couch and plopping down. I didn’t want him thinking I was actually worried . I grabbed the magazine off the end table and thumbed through it with an aggressive flick of my wrist and a chip on my shoulder.
I didn’t even look up when the door clicked closed behind him.
Flick. My eyes scanned the glossy pages without even comprehending the words.
I knew it was petty to ignore his presence, but I wasn’t about to be the first person to break the silence.
His warm, masculine scent filled the living room, and I placed a hand on my belly after our son decided to do somersaults in greeting to his dad.
I squeezed my eyelids together. Not now, kiddo. We’re supposed to be angry.
Duke’s presence was palpable. Against my better judgment, my eyes slid to him, and I shot to my feet.
He was stoic, shoulders slumped, as he stood just inside the doorway. A defeated man stood in the shoes of my strong, resilient Duke.
My heart clenched. I sucked in a gentle breath after he lifted his head to meet my gaze.
Shock washed over me.
Bruises on his face were blooming an angry reddish purple, and one eye was dangerously close to swelling shut. A small cut in his eyebrow was actively leaking blood.
I hurried to face him and grabbed the lapels of his jacket. “Who did this to you?”
His sad, dark eyes lifted to mine, and a smirk lifted his lip. “That’s supposed to be my line.”
I clamped my jaw shut, fighting the surge of tears that threatened to break free. I had never seen Duke look so... broken . I was confused and hurt and angry at all of them—at the whole damn town for perpetuating a rivalry that had stopped making any sense a long, long time ago.
When my eyes trailed over his slumped shoulders and battered face, my heart softened. I gently tugged him forward. “Get over here.”
Duke followed quietly as I led him to the couch and forced him to sit.
Quickly, I gathered the small medical kit he kept under the kitchen sink and kneeled before him.
With two fingers, I lifted his chin to examine the small cut that slashed through his eyebrow.
It was superficial, but even after a few dabs of a peroxide-soaked cotton ball, I could tell it would leave a small scar.
“Which one of them?” I wanted to know exactly which of my idiotic brothers was going to be on the receiving end of the hellfire I planned to rain down on them.
“Doesn’t matter.” Duke’s gravelly voice felt more intimate in the hushed atmosphere of his quiet living room.
“I’m going to guess Royal,” I mused with a sigh. “JP typically uses his words or his money to cut people down. Whip has a hard-on for Lee, and I’m hoping Abel wasn’t dumb enough to get involved. That leaves Royal and his hotheadedness.”
Duke only grunted, cementing my belief that Royal was slated to get a gargantuan ass-chewing when I was finished here.
Anger mixed with frustration as I continued to clean up a solemn Duke. My breath exited my nose in a sharp sigh. “How is this the world we’re bringing a child into?”
I gritted my teeth, willing myself not to cry because I wasn’t sad. I was furious . The helplessness that burrowed into my chest was a knot I couldn’t unfurl. I hated to see the man I loved in pain. Hated that our miracle would be born in the midst of family hatred.
So that’s the kind of man you’re tying yourself to?
My father had no idea the kind of man Duke Sullivan was. None of them did.
When I finished cleaning him up, I used his knee to push myself to standing. His eyes tracked me, the chocolate brown swirling with intensity. I hated seeing his perfect face marred with bruises and blood.
I stomped away, throwing the cotton balls into the trash with an unsatisfying plop. I braced myself on the counter and tried to breathe evenly as my anger simmered before fully bubbling over. “Going over there and leaving me at the hospital was a mistake.”
“It wasn’t.” Duke’s deep voice was closer, and I turned to find his feet planted in the threshold between the living room and kitchen. The soft glow from the kitchen light danced off his handsome features, and I hated that my body warmed to him so swiftly.
“I’m pregnant .” My arms swung wide to display my very visible baby bump. “And you left me in the hospital !”
A muscle flexed in his jaw as his body went rigid. “The doctors were releasing you. I made sure you had a ride home. My brothers were about to make things impossibly worse so... yes, I made a decision.”
Duke Sullivan, ladies and gentlemen, always fixing problems and producing results. I swear, that man should get Do something or get out of the way tattooed on his damn forehead.
I crossed my arms like a petulant child to keep from strangling the man I love. “So your genius decision was to choose violence ?”
“I didn’t choose any of this!” His voice boomed into the darkness, and my chin tipped up in defiance.
My eyes flared. “Exactly! Neither of us choose this. So why? Why would you put yourself through this? How is any of this worth it?” My voice cracked. Damn it. I swallowed past the lump that made it hard to breathe.
“Because of you!” His voice rattled through the kitchen. He gestured toward me. “Because you are worth it!”
My mouth popped open at his admission, but no words came out. In two steps, Duke was crowding my space. He cupped my face, tilting my head so I could look at him and take in the emotions roiling in his dark eyes.
“You are stubborn, woman, but you will hear me. You may have gone your whole life without people prioritizing you, but that ends with me.” His eyes moved over my features as my lip quivered. “Sylvie, it’s you or no one. It has always been you.”
A hot tear streaked down my face, and I blinked it away without much success as another fell just as swiftly. My entire existence I had been fading into the background of small-town life, but this man was putting me first—not only with his words, but with every action, every day.
“Don’t cry, baby. I’m trying to tell you that I love you—that I have loved you for far too long without telling you.
Before we ever got pregnant, I fell in love with your smile, your humor, your heart.
I used to imagine a world where Outtatowner didn’t exist and I could flirt with you, sweep you off your feet, and take you for coffee.
Show you off to my family. I don’t care what your last name is as long as it eventually becomes Sullivan. ”
A sob broke free as I buried my head into his broad chest. His arms enveloped me, pulling me into his warmth. Between us, our baby went wild, dancing and kicking as if to urge, Say it back! Daddy wants us! He loves us!
I smiled into him and squeezed him closer. “I love you too. Please don’t ever let go.”
His arms grew tighter. “Never.”
Staring at the opulent front door of Bug’s home, I steeled my spine.
Under the guise of Aunt Bug needing help at her house, my brothers were held captive. She had them dusting high spaces, moving and rearranging furniture, and whatever else she could think of to keep them occupied before I arrived.
Behind the heavy wooden door, I could hear their grumpy, argumentative voices overlapping as they suffered through the wrath of Aunt Bug. I stifled the tiny, petty joy that brought me.
Turning the handle, I held my head high and pushed through the door. Attention swiveled my way as my brothers all paused. They had the good sense to look more humble than cocky as I crossed the threshold and removed my new winter coat.
“Hey, Syl!” Royal called out with a wave of his hand and a grin on his bruised face.
I shook my head. “Don’t you ‘Hey, Syl’ me. I’m here to talk.” I watched the humor melt from his face. “To all of you.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. Slowly, my brothers set the living room furniture down and stepped toward me.
I didn’t miss the wave of confusion that rolled through the collective row of men standing before me.
I was certain they had never experienced a steaming-mad, hormonally charged pregnant woman, especially one who knew all their secrets and was ready to detonate.
Their injuries ranged from bruises to minor cuts to scabby knuckles. I breathed in deep.
Idiots, the whole lot of them.
I didn’t even know where to begin. Suddenly the overwhelming urge to fold in on myself and hide was palpable. It was so much easier being the soft, quiet King who faded into the background.
Nothing positive came from disappearing, so I set my shoulders.
“Where’s the fire?” Whip laughed at his own joke, and I rolled my eyes.
“The fire”—I made air quotes as I barreled on—“is that I had sex with Duke Sullivan.”
“Uh...” Abel’s permanent scowl somehow deepened as he gestured toward my belly. “We got the memo.”
Royal covered a laugh with a half-assed cough, and I glared at him.
“I had sex with Duke Sullivan because we shared a secret friendship for nearly a year, and we both developed real feelings.”
They stilled at the secret I had kept for so long.
I had gripped that secret so tightly, and I still wasn’t able to keep it.
I was ready to have the full truth out in the open.
No more hiding. “I am in love with him. And he loves me.” My words turned watery as my emotions swelled, but I pressed on.
“I never wanted to choose between my family and him, but your petty behavior is forcing my hand.”
Whip softened as tears rolled down my cheeks. “We were just looking out for you, Syl.”
My eyes snapped to him, fury overtaking me. “I am a grown woman! I don’t need my brothers acting like they have any say whatsoever in my life or my choices.”
I looked at each of their faces, making eye contact with every single man-child in that room. A sick part of me was amused that they looked a little worse for wear. At least it wasn’t just Duke who’d resembled a punching bag—apparently the Sullivans got a few shots in too.
Serves them all right.
“This is the line.” I pointed at the ground.
“If you want any kind of relationship with me or my son, you will not do this again. If you want to go around acting like children, plastic-wrapping each other’s toilets or whatever else it is that you do, fine .
But violence? Fights over things that are quite literally none of your fucking business?
Absolutely not.” I lifted my chin. “You will not hurt the people who will be a part of my family, and they will not hurt you. I am done with this.”
I swiveled on my heels, ready to make a hasty exit when a slow clap started behind me. Stunned, I slowly turned to face my brothers. Royal stood tall, hands clapping. Only... he wasn’t mocking me. He was grinning .
I narrowed my eyes at him.
“Get over here.” He opened his arms and gestured for me to accept his hug. “That was the most badass proclamation, Syl. You’re scary as hell. My asshole puckered.”
I couldn’t stop the burst of laughter that broke the tension, and I rolled my eyes at Royal before crossing the room to step into his hug. He held me in a brotherly embrace, and my words were muffled in his shirt. “I hate you.”
“I love you too.” He held me out as I met his gaze. “We all do.” Royal looked around at my brothers, who had the good sense to look properly chastised. “I think I speak for the group when I say that we’re all sorry. Things got out of hand.”
Abel pushed Royal aside. “Speak for yourself.” He pulled me into a hug so tightly my breath whooshed out with an oof sound. “I am sorry, though. I should have spoken up and stepped in to stop it.”
I stared up at my surly, stoic brother. He’d gone through so much, lost so much that it often felt like we’d lost him, too, but he was in there. Big heart and all. I squeezed him again.
Whip sauntered up. “I’d been dying to pop Lee Sullivan in the mouth for a while now. Can’t say I’m sorry for that, but I am sorry it caused you grief.”
I laughed as he hugged me. “That is the worst older-brother apology I’ve ever heard.”
Finally I turned to JP. He stood, watching the rest of our brothers make amends and take ownership for their hand in the fight with the Sullivans.
My chest tightened. JP was so much like our father—secretive and commanding, never able to just relax .
The boy I used to stomp around in puddles with was long gone, but for a split second, I thought I saw him in there.
A smile hooked at the corner of JP’s mouth, and he examined the knuckle that was cracked from the fight.
He raised his chin. “I’m sorry, Syl. We shouldn’t have brought this to your doorstep. ”
I swallowed hard. That was about the extent of an apology I could ever hope for from JP King. I breathed a heavy sigh of relief.
JP cleared his throat and stepped forward as I turned. “You know... he tried to stop it.”
I looked at him, a thousand questions fighting to break free.
“Duke,” JP continued. “He was there to make peace. He stood up for you. Not just with us, but with his own brothers too.”
Whip smiled and nodded. “I heard the ass-chewing he gave them too.” Whip shook his head. “He was fucking scary, practically foaming at the mouth.”
JP sighed. “A man like that, one that will honor his relationship above his own blood, that’s someone I could grow to respect.”
A smile bloomed across my face. For the first time ever, I had hope that my child with Duke could be born into a life that was, well, maybe not totally normal, but loving. Duke had stood up for me and tried to stop the fight. He was thinking of me and how it would impact our relationship.
My heart ached for him.
“One last question...” Royal’s face was dancing with mirth. “Are you going to hate me when I tell you I may have orchestrated a delivery of Wyatt’s favorite cookies but swapped the sugar for salt... ?”
“I’m out of here.” On a laugh, I turned and raised my hand above my head and sailed out the front door.