CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
CASH
She’s not just pale. She’s shaking.
“What did Peter say?” I pocket my cards, lean forward, and take her hands in mine. “Whatever it is, we’ve got this. I’m here.”
“My mind is kind of a mess. I don’t even know why I started there.” She releases one of my hands to rub her forehead. “It was nothing. He was trying to get under my skin, talking about how he could give me all the things I wanted—stability and kids and … it doesn’t matter.”
Ice runs through my veins. “Sounds like it does, Sly. Help me understand. I already want to kill him, but—”
“No.” She brushes her fingers over my cheek, lovingly but still untethered. “It has nothing to do with him. I just hadn’t thought about what a future with us would look like. What you want and …”
I’m confused about what’s happening here, but I was planning to venture into this with her when we made it back to the yacht. “The drop is in a half hour. I want to have this discussion, but is now the best time?”
“It has to be now because if you’re going to freak out, I need to—”
“Freak out?” I scoff, straightening to regain my composure. “Please tell me this isn’t gonna be something about Peter convincing you that I would rather be single and fucking around? Tell me you don’t believe that because I have been working my ass off to show you and—”
“I know you have.” She reaches for me this time, gliding her hand over my thigh in an attempt to calm me while it’s evident there’s pandemonium happening inside her.
“I know you love me. It’s not that. It’s just …
you didn’t really sign up for this, and I …
my mind is spiraling. It’s going to be a big change, and—”
“Neither of us can change our pasts.” I hop up, needing to move to keep myself steady.
“You’re upset because I was with a lot of people, and that’s fair.
Christ, I wish I could change my past. But I didn’t think you existed.
I didn’t believe this could happen. So, I know it’s disheartening, but at least you know I’m in awe of your perfection.
Your past is far more devastating, Sylv. ”
“Mine?” She balks, her eyes wild. “That wasn’t even the direction I was going, but since we’re here, I know you’re possessive. And, yes, I’m experienced, but nowhere near—”
“Not that.” I wave her off and start pacing because I don’t want either of us to travel that road.
“You gave your heart to someone else. That kills me. That he had that part of you.” I stop in front of her to emphasize how tormenting that is.
“Every part of you. But I’m not going to fuck this up, being jealous.
I will spoil you rotten, and eventually, any recollection of that bastard will be gone. ”
“You’re jealous of Danny?” Her brows knit together as she stands to meet me toe to toe. “You shouldn’t be.”
It’s my turn to be aghast. “You had his ring on your finger.”
“Only because I didn’t understand what love looked like, but if I had known what I know now, I’d never have accepted his proposal.”
That stills me. I’ve been wondering about that, so I swallow and probe. “Because of how he treated you?”
“No,” she scoffs, like I’m an adorable moron, flinging her hand toward me. “Because of how you do. Because you show me what it means to be loved, but I …”
“No buts, Sylvie. Please, for fuck’s sake, put me out of my misery. Stop acting like you’ve got one foot out the door. I will not survive it. It’s been rough, but we are finally on track”—I gesture to the fluorescent-lit station outside the window—“literally, to better days.”
When she smiles at that, I take a deep breath and lay out all my cards. “You are my best friend. My heaven. My magic. I’m so in love with you. This isn’t how I planned to do this. But if you’re telling me you’re ready to get married, Sly, I’m all in. I have the ring, and—”
“You have a ring?” She staggers backward, hand on her sternum, as if I threw the ring at her.
“Yes.” I cross my arms over my chest in challenge. “With me.”
“With you?” she parrots, but there’s a hint of a smile that I am memorizing. “That’s fast, isn’t it?”
“Maybe.” I rub my chin, noting how clogged my throat is with emotion.
“We both know how fleeting life can be, and I … I already know you’re it.
I don’t want to waste time. I want the rest of our lives to start now.
” As I scan her, I realize that the rare misfortune of not being able to read her is afflicting me, so I throw a little more into the pot.
“I planned to propose on the yacht, but I care way more about the marriage than I do about the perfection of one moment. I will give you—”
“Wait.” She raises her palm, barely breathing. “There’s something else.”
“Nothing else matters,” I argue. “I told you that you’d always come first. And I meant it.”
Her face softens, most of the reservations she was holding melting off her, but there’s still the tint of apprehension coloring her cheeks and her tell-tale pout, revealing how unsure she is. “Nothing would send you running?”
“Nothing.” I step toward her, curling my hand around the back of her neck, baffled about what could have changed for us during a twenty-minute shower break on a train. “Talk to me. What happened?”
She bites her lip, glancing toward the windows, but not moving away. “First, let me say that this is not a good look for me. I swear this isn’t something I do. I … I swiped a test from Tessa. She had a bunch.” She pauses there, her eyes floating up to me as I piece it together. “I’m pregnant.”
The pronouncement wallops me, siphoning the air from my lungs. That was quick.
“Pregnant?” I scoop her into my arms, burying my face in the crook of her neck. “Fuck, baby, that’s amazing.”
“Amazing? Oh.” She pulls her head back, her radiant face marred with astonishment.
“I thought you’d be mad.” She wiggles, so I extend a little breathing room—a little—while she goes on.
“I really am on birth control. Or I was. It was the shot. The alarm was on my phone, but when we got to New Orleans, you took it. And with everything going on, I forgot.” She expels a heavy breath. “You seem happy, but I’m still sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry about.” I peck her nose, but step back to share a transgression. “I have to make a confession that might make you angry.”
She rolls her lips in, sliding her hand over her stomach, already in maternal protective mode. “That’s not a great start to anything, but okay.”
This is one of those just-rip-the-Band-Aid-off scenarios, so I do. “I silenced the alarm and didn’t tell you.”
“What?” Her arms fly out to her sides, and it’s more indignation than dread painting her gorgeous face now.
Breathtaking.
“Now, see, you’re thinking that I’m crazy, but …
” I circle my finger around her twisted expression with my typical blasé bravado, but then I change tactics.
“I knew I was falling in love with you. I knew you wanted a baby. And I just thought, if it happened, I’d be thrilled.
But if I didn’t tell you and you didn’t notice, it would be natural and meant to be.
No pressure. Serendipity.” I plop into the chair, hoping my meddling doesn’t taint this incredible outcome.
“We could’ve waited, but the thought of you carrying a piece of both of us …
I kinda got attached to the idea. That’s why I kept pushing my cum back inside you. ”
“Okay,” she says, shocking me. She takes a deep breath and sits across from me. “I’m not mad. I’m oddly touched. I mean, you are crazy. I might even love you more for it though, but …” She finally peers at me with glossy amber eyes that overflow with brokenness. “What if I lose it?”
Oh shit.
Instantly, my mind goes to everything she did today, including soaring into the sea—thanks to me. But I don’t share that internal spiral. I’ll get her examined the second we board the yacht.
I crouch down in front of her, taking her hands in mine again. “Then it will hurt like hell, and we’ll deal with it.”
She licks a tear off her lip and nods. “Deal with it together.”
“Always.”
She hangs her head again, drops of anguish dotting her legs. “What if they find out I can’t have a healthy pregnancy?”
I wipe her cheek with my thumb, palming her head and forcing her attention to me. “Then we’ll deal with that too.”
“If that happens …” She shakes her head with aching resolve. “Half of your family is pregnant or trying. I’ll be a mess. Impossible.”
Rena told her. I wish I’d known that.
“Sharing your mess—our mess—would still be my greatest gift.”
Her chest deflates, her lips dipping into a resigned frown. “Cash, what if …”
“There is no end to that sentence that changes anything.” I pull her forehead to mine. “You are my whole world. I think I knew you would be before I ever knew your name.”
She presses her lips to mine, serenity finally washing over her. “I love you.”
“I know.” I shrug, flashing her my smile. “It was inevitable. And after how forward you were at Mardi Gras and that filthy mind, I braced myself.”
“You’re ridiculous.” She rolls her eyes with the feistiness that enthralls me. “And delusional.”
“And right. Pretty much everything I’ve ever said to you was spot-on.”
She rewards me with a laugh for that, like I hoped. “You’re the worst.”
Progress.
“And you love me.”
She throws her arms around my neck, nodding against my cheek. “I do. So much.”
“It’s good to practice those vows.” I kiss her temple, breathing her in and squeezing her tighter. “I love you, Sylv. We’re having a baby.”
A content sigh leaks from her. “We’re building a life.”
Sylvie is perched in a chair in the dining car, Jax on one side, me on the other, and her burner phone open on the table. On speaker.
“I see your train coming,” E says. “Are you alone?”
“That doesn’t really matter.” She sips her Diet Coke, leisurely leading the call. “I have to tell you something though.”
He sounds leery. “Okay.”
“It was the FBI—the note I got.”
“The Feds?” he hisses. “Fuck. Got a name for me?”
“No.” She blows out a heavy breath. “I gave the note to Axel Noire when I was staying with them. He dug into it and told me it was the Feds.”
“You should’ve gotten a name,” E grits out, jaw obviously clenched.
“Well, he just told me yesterday, so I was kind of busy.” She pauses, allowing her annoyance to loiter in the vacancy while Jax and I watch her with awe. “And now … I ran, so it’s not like I can dig further. It probably looks like—” She halts there abruptly, pivoting. “There’s something else.”
“Great,” he grouses.
Sylvie tamps down a smile, enjoying herself but aware that it might be heard in her voice. “Peter Fairfax alluded to the fact that he runs this cabal, and—”
“He told you that?”
“Yeah,” she replies easily, smoothing her hand over the pristine white tablecloth.
“He said he had to take it over from some guy who got out of control. It just didn’t sit right with me.
He wanted me to partner with him, and I …
well …” She waits a beat, squinting teasingly at Jax for the pause that E is enduring. “Did you know that?”
“Peter is unstable, at best,” E sneers.
She takes a final swill of her soda and puts on her backpack before we all rise. “I hope so because he also said you were responsible for my father’s death.”
Silence for a good minute, until he eventually musters a believable, “Your father meant a great deal to me.”
“Like a big fat paycheck,” she counters, carrying the phone as we walk through the car to the exit. “He made quite a contribution to the billions in your offshore accounts.”
“And I generously took care of everything for him when he so carelessly fucked up,” he snarls. “What is this attitude?”
“I don’t know. Peter said all those things, and the pilot who was supposed to be flying me off the island was shot, along with Cash.
” She intentionally infuses a quaver into her words as we stroll through the station, cruising in our makeshift outfits toward the door.
“It has me shaken. Are you trying to kill me?”
“Of course not.” His placating tone is in full force. “Let’s wrap this up and let it all go. The train is here. Everyone is getting off. Where are you?”
“If I can’t see you,” she chides, “it hardly seems fair that you see me, but I made the drop.”
“Understood.” The sounds of him trudging through a crowd on the way to the designated box chime through the phone—conversations, crying kids, bells, and birds. “Where are you headed now?”
“Why?” She tsks, putting on her sunglasses as I do the same. “Since we’re wrapping this up, all that matters is where you’ll be.”
“It’s not here.” There’s pure panic on his end now. “Where the hell is it?”
As we strut out of the station under fiery-red and violet skies, my cunning girl can’t help but cast a dazzling grin my way. “Check the inner pocket of your jacket, Nigel.”
A jagged breath blasts through the phone. “Aces and eights?”
Ahh. Sly and Noire make an excellent team.
I placed those in his pocket on my way to the wine cellar.
Jax dips his chin to me, reinforcing what he told me earlier when I thanked him for not hesitating to jump with Sylvie. “She’s family and definitely your better half. Nothing is more important to me.”
“Some call that the Dead Man’s Hand,” Sylvie says. “It’s what Wild Bill Hickok was holding when he was shot in the back of the head.” She laughs as we spot Axel and Zara up ahead, waiting for us. “But don’t worry. I’m more creative than that.”
Timing is everything, and only seconds pass before we hear a different voice through the phone—albeit slightly distant. “Nigel Edward Dryden, I’m Special Agent Terrance Vargas, conducting an investigation with the Belgium authorities. We need you to come with us.”
“I’ll find you,” E warns. It’s chilling, but doesn’t faze my girl in the least.
“I think one of my friends will find you first. It’s hard to hide in a prison cell.
Goodbye, E.” She ends the call, letting me sweep her up in a hug while my family stares on with unadulterated glee.
“That was poetic justice my father would’ve appreciated.
I assume Peter witnessed it. We’ll have to deal with him, but”—she glances at the setting of world-renowned architecture and vibrant seaside energy—“Spain is a good place to kick off the saga of Sylvie and Cash.”
“It sure is.” I crash my lips to hers, conquering her mouth with one toe-curling swipe after another before I finish with a nip and cart her closer to my family. “We’ve come a long way since the vagina diagram.”
She howls against my cheek. “That we have.”
“I’m in awe of how you pulled it all off—”
“We,” she corrects, nuzzling my nose. “We pulled it off. Everything’s better with a team. With family.” She smirks. “You all bring a lot to the table, but there was one thing the Noires were missing.”
I nod in full agreement. “We were lost without you, baby. You led us well.”
“Born to beg, borrow, and steal for the morally corrupt. I think that’s why they call me Sly.”