Page 26 of Rough Return

“I’m not a toy, Grier. And I lose everything if we get divorced, which I won’t do, but we don’t have to pretend.” He stared at her or through her, she couldn’t tell. Nor did she care. She just wanted to put an end to the hope that rang through her every time she heard a bike on the street outside her townhouse.

“What about the baby?”

Funny. She’d never wanted one so badly before until she knew she wouldn’t be having one. And it wasn’t about the money, either. It was more. Things she couldn’t describe or find words for. Emotions she didn’t know she had.

“The will said I had to have a baby in a year. It didn’t say it had to be yours.”

“I think it was implied.”

“Well, that offer isn’t on the table.”

“Again, I don’t share.” At some point, he’d moved around the desk to stand beside her and spin her chair toward him. He braced one hand on each of the armrests and leaned in. “Close your eyes, Fiona.”

“Why?” She wasn’t afraid of him, but he hadn’t given her any reason to trust him either.

“Just do it.” She stared, wishing she had the power to read his mind. “Please?”

She complied. “Okay. Now what?”

“Picture us in ten years, or five, with a kid. We aren’t exactly living our best lives here. Is this what you want for a kid?”

Oh, she’d seen that picture before a thousand times in her mind. She didn’t even have to close her eyes anymore to see it. “It was good enough for me.”

“Was it now?” He straightened.

“No one in my life has meant more to me than Max.” She shook her head. “And Belize is better?”

“Safer.”

“I don’t know. I’ve heard some pretty bad things about jellyfish.” She shook her head. Enough of this already. She’d spent a week wondering whether or not she would have to visit a sperm bank. At least now she knew. Knowing meant acceptance would come. She sighed. “Look, Grier. I can’t divorce you or I lose everything. But I won’t make you be a part of the baby situation. I can handle that on my own.” The baby situation? She hated herself for thinking the words.

“We’ll see.”

She didn’t let the hope bud inside of her, wouldn’t let him make her his emotional yo-yo. He’d made his decision, and now she’d made hers. “No. We won’t. The baby will be mine. I don’t need you for that.”

And no matter what he said or what he did, she’d decided.

* * *

Goddammit. Shit. Grier slammed his hand against the hood of the Suburban in the garage. The same Suburban he’d been sleeping in these last weeks while that son of a bitch Sedotal slept down the hall from Fiona, or worse, with her. He picked up a wrench from the toolbox open at his side and spun to throw it at the wall. “Fuck!” The picture in his mind caused a physical ache in his chest.

Sage opened the door and shut it as a screwdriver came screaming through the air toward him and stuck in the door at eye level. He opened the door again and stepped through. “Bad day?”

Understatement. Grier picked up another screwdriver and didn’t aim but hit a blond on a poster hanging over the workbench along the opposite wall. If Fiona slept with that… Sedotal, Grier would kill him.

Sage leaned against the SUV. “Two trucks coming in tonight. You going?”

Of course, he was going. His wife had a boyfriend. Living with her. What else was Grier going to do? He looked at his buddy. “What do you know about Sedotal?”

“Nothing that makes me damage calendar girls with screwdrivers. And probably not more than you do.” He shrugged. “He doesn’t talk to us except to spew orders from Fiona. Spends all his time following her around…” As if a lightbulb switched on in his head. “Oh!” He handed Grier another screwdriver. “All this anger and aggression makes sense now.”

“Where’s he from?”

Sage shook his head. “I don’t know. He never said.”

“How did he meet Fiona?”

Sage picked up a pair of pliers and fiddled with the handle. “I heard she picked him up from the prison when he got out.”