It was instant.
Fury clenching down on my ribs and twisting in my stomach.
It wasn’t going to happen.
I jumped when I felt the hand on my arm. Grace looked up at me, worry swimming in the depths of those teal eyes. “Are you okay?”
Not even close.
I cleared my throat and roughed a hand through my hair. “Yeah. Let’s get them inside.”
“I have all the rooms ready,” Faith said, turning for the porch steps.
Jace went to the trunk and pulled out the bags.
I opened the back door, and Grace leaned in and unbuckled Sophie, shushing her and whispering at her temple when the tiny girl whined in her sleep. “It’s okay, Sophie Marie. Mommy’s got you. Shh.”
That meteor in my throat raced faster.
I moved around the car, opening the other door where Thomas waited like the poor kid didn’t know if he belonged.
I fucking hated that, too.
That he ever had to question who he was. Question his worth.
“Come on, buddy, let’s get inside so you can get some sleep.”
His eyes darted around the property, into the billow and rustle of the leaves of the trees. “Are you sure this is a good place?”
“I’m sure. My brother is the nicest man you’ll ever meet.”
He looked up at me, blinking, his question all too genuine. “Nicer than you?”
The laugh I choked out tasted of bitterness, and I knelt so I could help him gather his charger and tablet that he seemed to cling to like a lifeline. “Yeah, buddy, nicer than me.”
A million miles and a lifetime away. Our paths, which had once seemed linear, diverted. Parting in the middle. Him going one way and me the other.
It pushed at that dirty space that echoed with that hollowed-out vacancy.
Threatening to spill.
Breaking through the cracks where it was supposed to be bound and subdued.
Fucking Grace. Fucking Grace with her tempting body and her sweet heart and adorable kids.
Whittling their way in where I couldn’t let them.
I swallowed it down and stood.
“Come on. Let’s get you inside.”
Thomas slid out, and when he did, I set my knee on the backseat so I could reach in and unbuckle Mallory, who was pretty much wedged between the two.
God, when I’d purchased my AMG, the last fucking thing I’d pictured was a herd of kids buckled in the backseat.
Never expected for my heart to fucking quiver when I pulled the little girl into my arms.
For everything to rush and expand when she wrapped her tiny ones around my neck and whispered, “Ian-Zian the Great. The most bestest hero in all the land.”
* * *
Faith showed us to our rooms, where she’d given us the four bedrooms that ran the left wing on the second floor of the massive plantation.
I’d told Jace implicitly that Grace and I weren’t together. That she was a client. That we sure as hell wouldn’t be sharing a bed, no matter how goddamned badly I might want to.
He’d instantly caught onto what had felt like a lie grinding through my teeth, the fact that the girl felt like mine. Didn’t change the fact that she couldn’t be.
The kids were tucked into their rooms, and the rest of us stood outside of Grace’s door where she was again profusely thanking Jace and Faith.
Faith touched her arm. “It’s our honor. Now, get some rest. I know it has to have been a long night for you.”
“Thank you,” she said, and Jace sent her a smile. “Good night.”
Faith and Jace stepped out of the hall, leaving me and Grace there alone.
She looked up at me with those trusting eyes.
So bright and beautiful and good.
That feeling stretched tight between us. So intense that I was having a hard time not giving in to the pull.
“Good night, Grace.”
A somber smile pulled at one side of her mouth. “Good night, Ian.”
Stepping back into the room, she snapped the door shut. It took every ounce of willpower I possessed not to bust it open.
Tear through it like some kind of wildman set on staking a claim.
Take her.
I stood there, glaring daggers at the wood. Cursing its existence, hands clenched in grueling restraint.
I jumped about fifteen fucking feet in the air when the voice hit me from the side. “How about a drink, brother?”
My head whipped Jace’s direction where he’d moved to the head of the hall, arms stretched out to rest on the walls as he watched me with a mix of speculation and amusement.
I ran both my hands over the top of my head. “Need about ten of them after the day I’ve had.”
Jace’s gaze traveled over my disheveled appearance. Shirt fucking shredded, soiled with blood, and my pants wrinkled and covered in dirt. “Found yourself a bit of trouble, yeah?”
A chuckle almost slid free. “You could say that.”
He turned and started for the curved staircase. “Won’t act like I wasn’t shocked when I got your call.”
Following behind him, I huffed out a sigh as we hit the first-floor landing of the enormous home. Everything restored, oozing character and charm and an old-world Southern elegance.
Still, there was something haunting about it, like the walls held a thousand secrets, and if you put your ear against one, you could hear the voices screaming out.
Jace led me into the parlor where an old-fashioned bar was set up. Wasn’t too hard to imagine the shit that must have gone down in there over the years.
Today, it still had all the original dark, carved wood, and it was furnished with antique sofas and a vintage settee.
I sank into one of the ornate stools while he went behind the bar and poured a tumbler of my favorite scotch. He slid it to me. I took a big gulp as he poured one for himself.
He took a sip and then pressed both his palms to the bar.
“Well?”
Another sigh, and I dropped my head, shaking it. “Got in deep, man.”
“No shit.”
I ran the back of my hand over my lips and tried to figure out what to tell him when I felt like I didn’t know a goddamned thing. “She’s going through a nasty custody battle.”
“That’s rough.” But he was eyeing me, clearly knowing there was more.
I exhaled all the air from my lungs before I was sucking for more. Like it might offer some clarity. “Reed Dearborne.”
He choked on his scotch, liquid spewing out and splattering on the glossy wood. He grabbed a napkin and ran it over his mouth. “You’re serious?”
“Do I look like I’m joking?” I took a deep pull of the amber fluid, welcoming the burn as it raced down my throat.
“He’s trying to declare her an unfit mother and using it as a lure to force her back to him.” Could barely cut free the explanation.
Jace pursed his lips. “From what I’ve seen, the guy’s a prick.”
That feeling knotted up in my throat, and the words were raw when I forced them out. “He’s a sick bastard. I . . . I found him trying to force himself on her yesterday afternoon. I’d filed for an emergency injunction granting her full temporary custody until we could go to trial. An hour later, he was tipped off by the judge. He showed at her house.”
He pointed at the blood splattered on my shirt. “And I take it that was the result.”
“Yup,” I said, taking a swill.
“God, you weren’t lying when you said you got yourself in deep.”
“Gets worse.” I looked at my older brother, shaking my head, anger and fear strangling my heart. “I went over to his place tonight, just to stake it out. Make sure the prick wasn’t contemplating a repeat.”
Alarm tightened everything, guts screaming. “Bennet was there.”
The bottom of his glass thumped on the wood when he dropped it away from his mouth. “Ian.”
Fear climbed into his voice. The same kind of fear I was feeling. An affirmation that I wasn’t being crazy and linking things together that didn’t fit. That I wasn’t off on some crazy tangent and making assumptions.
Scum found scum.
Just like I’d always said.
Just the way Bennet had found me, no doubt he’d found Reed.
“Reed could just as easily be involved in Bennet’s legitimate business as he could the shady. Doesn’t prove anything.” Jace was trying to sound resolute. Clearly trying to come up with a solution that didn’t put my neck on the chopping block.