Author: Roni Loren
“You doing okay?”
“Been better,” she admitted. “Andre, I’m so—”
“Shh, bella. Listen. I want to talk to you, but I’m calling because of Jace.”
Her breath caught. “Is everything all right?”
He sighed. “A lot’s happened. Where are you?”
She looked out at the peaceful rows of grapevine stretching out in the distance, the scene in direct contrast to the riot of emotions beating her raw on the inside. “I’m at The Ranch.”
A long pause.
She cringed, realizing too late how bad that sounded. “Grant gave me a place to stay. I’m just . . .” Avoiding. Hiding. Wallowing. Hating my life. “Resting.”
“You need to come back to town and talk to Jace. He knows about the baby,” he said, his voice so quiet, she almost thought she’d imagined what he said.
She gasped, the words like a fist to the sternum. Jace knew. “Wh—How?”
“His ex-wife hired a private investigator to get dirt on you so she could use it against him. Apparently, the PI has been posing as your friend Callie’s new boyfriend so he could get close to you.”
Evan’s nails dug into the soft earth beneath the tree, trying to find a grip in her spinning world. Jace knew. He knew she’d betrayed him in the worst possible way. “Oh, God, he must hate me.”
“Bella, you need to tell him the truth. Can you come to the loft tonight so we can all talk?”
She leaned her head back against the bark of the tree, tears filling her eyes. “Yes. I’ll be there.”
THIRTY
Evan wiped off the sweat that had formed on her forehead after making the trek up the stairs to Jace and Andre’s loft. She hiked her purse up higher on her shoulder, gripping the strap as if it was the only thing holding her upright. On the long drive here, she’d gone over and over how she could have this conversation. But there was no way to make it any easier. She’d had Marcus meet her a few miles before she hit city limits to give her something she needed to pass along to Jace, but other than that, she had no plan.
The fact was Jace knew a secret that should’ve never been kept from him.
And he probably hated her. Deservedly so.
And now it was time to tell him the information she should’ve provided him with all those years ago.
Her hand shook as she raised it to the door, but she managed to knock and not run back down the stairs. A few seconds passed and she thought maybe they weren’t home, but then the door swung open. Andre stood there in track pants and a standard-issue Dallas PD T-shirt, his tired eyes lighting when he saw her standing on the other side.
She almost imploded with the need to throw her arms around his neck and bury herself in his comfort. But that wasn’t what she’d come here for. And she had no idea where she stood with Andre. She hadn’t betrayed him like she had Jace, but she had walked away from his love to go to Daniel.
“Bella,” Andre said, the word so soft, but landing heavily against her. His gaze traced over her face.
She automatically touched her cheek, knowing her face was probably puffy from crying. “Hi. Is Jace home? I— We all need to talk.”
Andre extended the arm that was holding the door, pushing it wide and giving her a view of Jace sitting in the living area behind him. “Come on in.”
Jace looked her way when she stepped inside, pain marching across his face at the mere sight of her. He turned to the news on TV, his voice coming out hollow. “Andre called you.”
She swallowed hard. “Yes.”
Jace sniffed.
Andre’s large hand cupped her elbow as he stepped up beside her. “Come on, bella. Sit. You two need to talk.”
He led her to an armchair then sat down on the couch next to Jace, leaving her alone to face the both of them. Andre took the remote control from Jace’s hand and clicked the TV off. Jace didn’t stop looking in that direction. “You don’t have to worry about the information going public. I took care of things with Diana.”
Meaning he’d paid that wretched woman. Which made Evan feel even more like shit. “Thank you.”
Quiet filled the room, the airy loft filling with the thick sludge of silence.
She set her purse on the floor and then laced her fingers in front of her in her lap, staring at her hands like they held the script on how to say the right thing. They didn’t, so she went for the only thing she could say. “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you, Jace.”
He winced, closed his eyes. “You told me that night you were on the pill. I would’ve never—”
She shook her head. “I was on it. I didn’t know you had to take it longer than a month for it to be effective.”
He looked at her finally, grief not anger shifting his features. “Why didn’t you come back to me, Ev? I would’ve helped you. Would’ve given you . . . and our baby whatever you needed.”
The hurt in his voice was like tiny particles of glass digging into every vulnerable spot inside of her. “You were nineteen. And you were . . .”
His lip curled. “Go ahead. Say it. I was what? Irresponsible? A fuckup? The guy who took advantage of you because he didn’t know how to keep his dick in his pants? Believe me, it’s nothing I don’t already know.”
“No,” she said, her voice sharper than intended. “I loved you, dammit, and you were on your way to being something. I wasn’t going to be the person to screw that up.”
He scoffed. “Yeah, ’cause look how great I turned out, right?”
She held out her hands. “You did turn out great! Look at what you’ve built for yourself, the man you’ve become.”
“I’m a guy who owns a sex shop, Ev. Who’s been disowned by his family. And who is apparently a deadbeat dad who didn’t even know I had a child out there. Yeah, some man. No wonder you’d rather marry Daniel.”
“No, Jace. My choices were mine. Sleeping with you. Running away. I knew you wouldn’t have turned your back on me if I had come to you pregnant. But”—sadness choked her—“my whole life since I went into foster care was about people pretending to care about me. Out of obligation. Because there was paperwork and money exchanged. I couldn’t bear to have you be one of those people.”
“God, Evan, it wouldn’t have been like that—”
“You know that pregnancy saved my life,” she said, cutting him off. “My depression was out of control long before I slept with you. You were right to be worried when you found my scars. There wasn’t a day that passed back then that I didn’t cut. Not a week went by without me wanting to end it all.” Tears finally made it past her resistance and tracked quietly down her cheeks. “Knowing that baby was growing inside me kept me putting one foot in front of the other. Gave me a reason to stick around.”
The green in his eyes went shiny. “What happened to our baby, Ev?”
“I found an adoption agency. Lied and told them I didn’t know who the father was. They helped me with my doctor bills and some of my living expenses. It’s what allowed me to save up money to escape the guy I was taking photos for.” She swiped the moisture from her cheeks and leaned over to pull an envelope from her purse. She sat it in her lap, smoothing a folded edge. “Her name is Dahlia. And she’s gorgeous and smart and . . . happy.”
* * *
The sound of his daughter’s name reached into Jace’s psyche and sliced through all the tethers holding his emotions in control. He choked on the knot of grief that filled his throat. He had a child. One he’d never know. Never get to hold. Or tell he loved.
The knowledge swamped him, leaving him speechless, gutted.
Andre laid a steadying hand on Jace’s shoulder, a silent pillar of support.
Evan pushed forward when she saw Jace wasn’t going to respond, her voice as shaky as her hands. “I placed her with a couple who lives in Oklahoma. They never adopted any other children, so she’s the center of their universe.” She wet her lips and set the envelope she’d been holding on the coffee table. “They send me pictures every few months.”
Jace couldn’t move. There was no way he could handle looking at a photo of his daughter right now. He raised his gaze to Evan, who looked bruised and battered with her own emotions. He wanted to be angry with her. To lash out. She’d taken away his chance to know his child.
But all he could feel was sadness over the paths they’d taken, over the too harsh consequences for a simple mistake of youth. “Does she have everything she needs?”
Evan’s throat worked as she swallowed. “She has love and safety. Her parents are middle class, so they have the same financial concerns any family would. I’ve been saving everything I’ve earned over the past few years and have put it into a college fund for her. It’s not much, but I figured once Daniel’s show started, I’d be able to put enough in there to cover her through all her schooling.”
He frowned. “So your arrangement with Daniel was more than just obligation to him.”
She touched her left ring finger, that fucking engagement ring still encircling it. “I’d never be able to earn enough money in time on my own.”
“Dahlia’s college will be covered,” he said, his tone leaving no room for her to argue.
“What? No, Jace. I know your business—”
“I have the money,” he said, cutting her off. With Wyatt’s boost, no doubt Wicked would be fully back on its feet in no time. And there was no way he was letting his kid go without something.
“Thank you.” She looked down at her hands. Took a breath. “I’m sorry, Jace. I know you must hate me.”
Her assumption was like a kick to the ribs. Did she really think that was possible? That he’d hate her over mistakes she made when she was a teenager? “You don’t have much faith in me, do you?”
She wiped her palms on her jeans, her whole demeanor going into retreat mode. “I need to go.”
“You don’t have to,” Andre said, leaning forward, forearms on his thighs. Jace could tell it was taking every ounce of Andre’s restraint not to scoop up Evan and comfort her.
Her gaze flicked to Jace.
But Jace couldn’t muster up the words to say what he wanted to. He loved her. Couldn’t imagine his life without her in it. But how were they supposed to start something meaningful when she believed he’d bail at the first sign of strife?
The kind of relationship they’d be entering into would require the ultimate trust—not just the D/s aspect, but a triad to contend with. A setup that would dissolve into jealousy, mixed feelings, and insecurity if all three partners weren’t completely confident in the bond they had. Right now, she wasn’t ready for that. She’d sabotage it. They’d destroy each other.
And the realization of what that meant he needed to do just about killed him.
“Tell us what you want, Evan,” Jace said, authority underlining his tone.
She glanced from him to Andre, then back to him, the turmoil behind her eyes like a raging spring storm. “I love you both. I want to be with you, but—”
Jace raised his hand, blocking the rest of her statement. “That’s enough.”
Andre sent him a what-the-fuck-are-you-doing glare, but Jace ignored it. Evan might walk out the door and never look back, but this was a risk he had to take. Otherwise, the three of them were going to build something on a foundation of silt. A little rough water and they’d go under in a blink.
Jace stood. “We all deserve better than ‘I love you, but.’ When you can take the qualifier out of that sentence, you let us know. And we’ll talk. Until then, I think it’s time for you to leave.”
Part of him wished she would dispute him. Stomp her foot and tell him there was no qualifier. They could sweep her up, kiss away her tears, and make her forget the pain of the last week. But the sag of her shoulders told him he hadn’t read her wrong. She wasn’t ready to give herself over completely to this, to them. Maybe would never be.
“You doing okay?”
“Been better,” she admitted. “Andre, I’m so—”
“Shh, bella. Listen. I want to talk to you, but I’m calling because of Jace.”
Her breath caught. “Is everything all right?”
He sighed. “A lot’s happened. Where are you?”
She looked out at the peaceful rows of grapevine stretching out in the distance, the scene in direct contrast to the riot of emotions beating her raw on the inside. “I’m at The Ranch.”
A long pause.
She cringed, realizing too late how bad that sounded. “Grant gave me a place to stay. I’m just . . .” Avoiding. Hiding. Wallowing. Hating my life. “Resting.”
“You need to come back to town and talk to Jace. He knows about the baby,” he said, his voice so quiet, she almost thought she’d imagined what he said.
She gasped, the words like a fist to the sternum. Jace knew. “Wh—How?”
“His ex-wife hired a private investigator to get dirt on you so she could use it against him. Apparently, the PI has been posing as your friend Callie’s new boyfriend so he could get close to you.”
Evan’s nails dug into the soft earth beneath the tree, trying to find a grip in her spinning world. Jace knew. He knew she’d betrayed him in the worst possible way. “Oh, God, he must hate me.”
“Bella, you need to tell him the truth. Can you come to the loft tonight so we can all talk?”
She leaned her head back against the bark of the tree, tears filling her eyes. “Yes. I’ll be there.”
THIRTY
Evan wiped off the sweat that had formed on her forehead after making the trek up the stairs to Jace and Andre’s loft. She hiked her purse up higher on her shoulder, gripping the strap as if it was the only thing holding her upright. On the long drive here, she’d gone over and over how she could have this conversation. But there was no way to make it any easier. She’d had Marcus meet her a few miles before she hit city limits to give her something she needed to pass along to Jace, but other than that, she had no plan.
The fact was Jace knew a secret that should’ve never been kept from him.
And he probably hated her. Deservedly so.
And now it was time to tell him the information she should’ve provided him with all those years ago.
Her hand shook as she raised it to the door, but she managed to knock and not run back down the stairs. A few seconds passed and she thought maybe they weren’t home, but then the door swung open. Andre stood there in track pants and a standard-issue Dallas PD T-shirt, his tired eyes lighting when he saw her standing on the other side.
She almost imploded with the need to throw her arms around his neck and bury herself in his comfort. But that wasn’t what she’d come here for. And she had no idea where she stood with Andre. She hadn’t betrayed him like she had Jace, but she had walked away from his love to go to Daniel.
“Bella,” Andre said, the word so soft, but landing heavily against her. His gaze traced over her face.
She automatically touched her cheek, knowing her face was probably puffy from crying. “Hi. Is Jace home? I— We all need to talk.”
Andre extended the arm that was holding the door, pushing it wide and giving her a view of Jace sitting in the living area behind him. “Come on in.”
Jace looked her way when she stepped inside, pain marching across his face at the mere sight of her. He turned to the news on TV, his voice coming out hollow. “Andre called you.”
She swallowed hard. “Yes.”
Jace sniffed.
Andre’s large hand cupped her elbow as he stepped up beside her. “Come on, bella. Sit. You two need to talk.”
He led her to an armchair then sat down on the couch next to Jace, leaving her alone to face the both of them. Andre took the remote control from Jace’s hand and clicked the TV off. Jace didn’t stop looking in that direction. “You don’t have to worry about the information going public. I took care of things with Diana.”
Meaning he’d paid that wretched woman. Which made Evan feel even more like shit. “Thank you.”
Quiet filled the room, the airy loft filling with the thick sludge of silence.
She set her purse on the floor and then laced her fingers in front of her in her lap, staring at her hands like they held the script on how to say the right thing. They didn’t, so she went for the only thing she could say. “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you, Jace.”
He winced, closed his eyes. “You told me that night you were on the pill. I would’ve never—”
She shook her head. “I was on it. I didn’t know you had to take it longer than a month for it to be effective.”
He looked at her finally, grief not anger shifting his features. “Why didn’t you come back to me, Ev? I would’ve helped you. Would’ve given you . . . and our baby whatever you needed.”
The hurt in his voice was like tiny particles of glass digging into every vulnerable spot inside of her. “You were nineteen. And you were . . .”
His lip curled. “Go ahead. Say it. I was what? Irresponsible? A fuckup? The guy who took advantage of you because he didn’t know how to keep his dick in his pants? Believe me, it’s nothing I don’t already know.”
“No,” she said, her voice sharper than intended. “I loved you, dammit, and you were on your way to being something. I wasn’t going to be the person to screw that up.”
He scoffed. “Yeah, ’cause look how great I turned out, right?”
She held out her hands. “You did turn out great! Look at what you’ve built for yourself, the man you’ve become.”
“I’m a guy who owns a sex shop, Ev. Who’s been disowned by his family. And who is apparently a deadbeat dad who didn’t even know I had a child out there. Yeah, some man. No wonder you’d rather marry Daniel.”
“No, Jace. My choices were mine. Sleeping with you. Running away. I knew you wouldn’t have turned your back on me if I had come to you pregnant. But”—sadness choked her—“my whole life since I went into foster care was about people pretending to care about me. Out of obligation. Because there was paperwork and money exchanged. I couldn’t bear to have you be one of those people.”
“God, Evan, it wouldn’t have been like that—”
“You know that pregnancy saved my life,” she said, cutting him off. “My depression was out of control long before I slept with you. You were right to be worried when you found my scars. There wasn’t a day that passed back then that I didn’t cut. Not a week went by without me wanting to end it all.” Tears finally made it past her resistance and tracked quietly down her cheeks. “Knowing that baby was growing inside me kept me putting one foot in front of the other. Gave me a reason to stick around.”
The green in his eyes went shiny. “What happened to our baby, Ev?”
“I found an adoption agency. Lied and told them I didn’t know who the father was. They helped me with my doctor bills and some of my living expenses. It’s what allowed me to save up money to escape the guy I was taking photos for.” She swiped the moisture from her cheeks and leaned over to pull an envelope from her purse. She sat it in her lap, smoothing a folded edge. “Her name is Dahlia. And she’s gorgeous and smart and . . . happy.”
* * *
The sound of his daughter’s name reached into Jace’s psyche and sliced through all the tethers holding his emotions in control. He choked on the knot of grief that filled his throat. He had a child. One he’d never know. Never get to hold. Or tell he loved.
The knowledge swamped him, leaving him speechless, gutted.
Andre laid a steadying hand on Jace’s shoulder, a silent pillar of support.
Evan pushed forward when she saw Jace wasn’t going to respond, her voice as shaky as her hands. “I placed her with a couple who lives in Oklahoma. They never adopted any other children, so she’s the center of their universe.” She wet her lips and set the envelope she’d been holding on the coffee table. “They send me pictures every few months.”
Jace couldn’t move. There was no way he could handle looking at a photo of his daughter right now. He raised his gaze to Evan, who looked bruised and battered with her own emotions. He wanted to be angry with her. To lash out. She’d taken away his chance to know his child.
But all he could feel was sadness over the paths they’d taken, over the too harsh consequences for a simple mistake of youth. “Does she have everything she needs?”
Evan’s throat worked as she swallowed. “She has love and safety. Her parents are middle class, so they have the same financial concerns any family would. I’ve been saving everything I’ve earned over the past few years and have put it into a college fund for her. It’s not much, but I figured once Daniel’s show started, I’d be able to put enough in there to cover her through all her schooling.”
He frowned. “So your arrangement with Daniel was more than just obligation to him.”
She touched her left ring finger, that fucking engagement ring still encircling it. “I’d never be able to earn enough money in time on my own.”
“Dahlia’s college will be covered,” he said, his tone leaving no room for her to argue.
“What? No, Jace. I know your business—”
“I have the money,” he said, cutting her off. With Wyatt’s boost, no doubt Wicked would be fully back on its feet in no time. And there was no way he was letting his kid go without something.
“Thank you.” She looked down at her hands. Took a breath. “I’m sorry, Jace. I know you must hate me.”
Her assumption was like a kick to the ribs. Did she really think that was possible? That he’d hate her over mistakes she made when she was a teenager? “You don’t have much faith in me, do you?”
She wiped her palms on her jeans, her whole demeanor going into retreat mode. “I need to go.”
“You don’t have to,” Andre said, leaning forward, forearms on his thighs. Jace could tell it was taking every ounce of Andre’s restraint not to scoop up Evan and comfort her.
Her gaze flicked to Jace.
But Jace couldn’t muster up the words to say what he wanted to. He loved her. Couldn’t imagine his life without her in it. But how were they supposed to start something meaningful when she believed he’d bail at the first sign of strife?
The kind of relationship they’d be entering into would require the ultimate trust—not just the D/s aspect, but a triad to contend with. A setup that would dissolve into jealousy, mixed feelings, and insecurity if all three partners weren’t completely confident in the bond they had. Right now, she wasn’t ready for that. She’d sabotage it. They’d destroy each other.
And the realization of what that meant he needed to do just about killed him.
“Tell us what you want, Evan,” Jace said, authority underlining his tone.
She glanced from him to Andre, then back to him, the turmoil behind her eyes like a raging spring storm. “I love you both. I want to be with you, but—”
Jace raised his hand, blocking the rest of her statement. “That’s enough.”
Andre sent him a what-the-fuck-are-you-doing glare, but Jace ignored it. Evan might walk out the door and never look back, but this was a risk he had to take. Otherwise, the three of them were going to build something on a foundation of silt. A little rough water and they’d go under in a blink.
Jace stood. “We all deserve better than ‘I love you, but.’ When you can take the qualifier out of that sentence, you let us know. And we’ll talk. Until then, I think it’s time for you to leave.”
Part of him wished she would dispute him. Stomp her foot and tell him there was no qualifier. They could sweep her up, kiss away her tears, and make her forget the pain of the last week. But the sag of her shoulders told him he hadn’t read her wrong. She wasn’t ready to give herself over completely to this, to them. Maybe would never be.
