LUCI (The Naughty Ones Book 2) Read online

  Ah, ever the protector.

  “Yes. No? Not really? I keep having these nightmares about being shoved, and when I spoke to Cameron about it, he went totally mental. I don’t…”

  Don’t cry or he’ll be over here so fast your head will spin. And then he’ll kick the shit out of the father of your baby…er…babies.

  “Tell me then, baby.”

  “Well, I finally got to the part where I looked up just before I fell and I swear, I think I saw Cameron’s brother. How crazy is that? I think I may have met the guy a time or two or something, but they say that he died months ago, and so that makes it impossible for him to have done it. I dunno, I think I’m losing my mind.”

  “Er, baby? You did a little more than just meet the guy a time or two,” Alec says slowly, hesitantly.

  My skin starts prickling, and I feel my head start to pound when I hear a weary sigh and then what sounds like a cigarette lighter flicking on.

  “I did? Are you smoking?”

  “Yup, no lectures. It’s my one vice besides drinking and meaningless sex. And yeah, you were…I shouldn’t be telling you this after what the doctors said.”

  “Spill it, Mallory! I’m having the worst freaking week, and with the new baby, my hormones are going whacky so you may as well know that I—”

  “New baby?” he cuts in, his voice sharp and hard. “You’re pregnant? Again! That…you need to get the hell out of there and get home. Bring your daughter. I’ll—”

  “Alec! Calm down. It’s no big deal, babe. Cameron and I are…we’re happy to have another child so soon. Angel will have a playmate close in age and—”

  “Shaw, sweetheart…I worried about you when you just left and went with the guy, especially…but I let it go because you sounded so happy about it. God, I even let it go when I wanted to fly over and your fiancé told me not to. I’ve accepted a lot of this shit in hopes that eventually you’d remember everything and come to your senses but this…tell me something? Did Cameron even hint at why you’d be dreaming about his brother, never mind dreaming that the prick shoved you down a flight of stairs?” he asks, his voice going dark and sinister.

  “No?”

  “Because he doesn’t want you to remember anything! Jesus, I should have seen this freaking coming. What did he tell you in the hospital?”

  I think back, wracking my brain for anything that sticks out, but all I remember is an attentive, gentle man who’d stuck to me like freaking glue at every turn.

  I’d thought it sweet and his way of showing me love, but now, with the abrupt about face, I’m kinda guessing he’s not so much in love with me as he wants to watch my every move.

  “Nothing much. Just, you know, that we’re engaged, and that he was so worried that I wouldn’t wake up. Molly said he was out of his mind when he saw me.”

  Still a heart melter that one.

  “Shaw, I hate to ask you this, but did he say anything about Angelica or…Robert?”

  “No. I didn’t even know about the guy till a few days ago, and believe you me, I am not about to mention his name again. Cameron goes loco.”

  Another sigh. This one tired and frustrated, as if he’s struggling with something.

  “You know him much better than you think. A hell of a lot better than your man is telling you, baby. Robert Stone is—”

  The phone is snatched out of my hand before he can complete the sentence, and I find Cameron looming over me, a hard look on his face before he barks into the phone and then drops it to the floor, crushing it savagely beneath his foot.

  “Hey! You just trashed my phone! I was talking there!”

  “I know. About a topic I warned you is not up for discussion.”

  Eyes closing on a weary sigh, I rise to my feet and walk to the interconnecting door, not even bothering to argue at this point. I could. I could yell and demand answers, and maybe even slap him a little, but it’s a waste of time and energy, and I know it.

  For some reason, the guy has totally flipped a three sixty, and everything I say and do is rubbing him the wrong way.

  Whatever.

  Pushing the door open, I walk into the nursery and feel a wide smile spread over my lips. That’s my ray of sunshine right there, staring at me through a set of baby blue peepers that have the ability to turn my heart to mush and my mood to jelly.

  She’s the most perfect thing I’ve ever done in my shitty life and I know it, even if I don’t remember how she came to be or how she got here. I’m just thankful that she did and that I have her to brighten what is fast becoming torture.

  “Hello, baby girl. Did you miss your mama? Come on here sugar and give me some love.”

  She reaches for me, her joy and unconditional love a balm I need now, desperately. I kiss her head and breathe in her smell before lowering my shirt and pulling her to my breast, my chest tweaking, as it always does when she looks up at me in thanks and adoration.

  At least someone wants and needs me.

  “You’re so perfect. Yes, you are. Wanna tell mama why you’ve taken to sleeping through the night so early? I miss you when we don’t wake up at midnight. Or two in the morning. Or four.”

  I’m being ridiculous, and I know it, but talking to my kid about her asshole father doesn’t seem right to me so I need something to say.

  “She wakes up. I give her milk from the fridge and put her back down.” Cameron growls from the doorway, his eyes glued to my breast and the little girl attached to it.

  The thought of him willingly depriving me of Angel just because he’s got a bug up his ass and wants to hurt me pisses me off more than anything else. I can take his insults and nastiness. I can accept that we aren’t in a place I’d so naively assumed we were, but I will not accept him using my daughter against me.

  Ever.

  “You have no right to do that. It’s my job to feed her, and I want to do it.” I hiss, keeping my voice low so as not to startle her. “Just because you don’t want me doesn’t mean she doesn’t, and I resent you trying to put a barrier between us.”

  That, and this cold war he’s got going is pushing me to a desperate place I can’t stand to think about—in case I lose the tight grip I have on myself. I’ve been teetering on the verge of what feels like a panic attack for days now and have kept it all together purely by convincing myself that no, I’m not losing my mind.

  And I am not that pathetic loser who goes into depression just because some loser has decided to treat me like shit. I have options as Alec had so recently pointed out, and I don’t need him to live a decent life and raise my kid.

  We’re not married, something I am now very thankful for, and he can’t stop me from doing what I want. If I leave, he can have visitation or something. I dunno. I’m so confused, but at least I can think about what Alec said.

  “You’ve been tired lately with the sickness. I wanted to help.”

  Ah, the feeling and emotion, why however will I control myself when he’s being so giving…

  “Whatever this is…this game that you’ve been playing with me since the hospital, you can stop it. I know that we aren’t together for any other reason than because of Angel. I’m going to remember everything eventually, and when I do, you can kiss us goodbye.”

  I see him stiffen before he looks up, his eyes nailing me to the spot. He’s pissed, angrier than I think is possible for another human being to be, and it makes me pause, regretting telling him my plans at all.

  “You will never take my children from me. Never. As far as games? Who’s playing games, Shaw? I knew from that very first day that you were a liar. I should have trusted my instincts instead of allowing myself to see only what I wanted. And now…what could you possibly get from telling me that Robert pushed you?”

  He sounds so bewildered that I have the urge to apologize and assure him that…what? Either I am right, which is physically impossible, since his brother is stone cold dead and in the ground, or he’s engaged to a woman who is losing her marbles.

&n
bsp; There’s no comfort in any of those things. Nothing I say will help me here, not with him.

  “Leave me alone. Just go to work and leave me alone.”

  I’m no quitter, not since the summer Gloria had sold the goldfish I’d bought with money I’d earned waiting tables for the two bucks she was short on another bottle.

  I’d worked even harder and bought another one, this time hiding the poor thing in the shed out back. Too bad it had been ice cold and no environment for a fragile animal. I’d had to flush it a day later, but it had been a victory for me.

  Now, I don’t stop until I get what I want. At least I never did before. Now I’m too tired to actually care.

  “So that you can ring your brother and plot some more? You want to take my daughter and my unborn child from me, Shaw? Is that what you’ve planned this whole time? Get as much on me as you can so I’ll do or pay whatever your greedy little arse wants?”

  He’s getting more furious, and I realize that I don’t want or need this around my girl. I see she’s finished and drooping, so I lay her down gently with a kiss before stalking back to the room, Cameron hot on my heels.

  “Look,” I say, holding my hand up not only to shut him up but also to halt his progression and keep some distance between us. “I don’t know what our relationship was before, and right now, I don’t think I care. All I know is that I got out of the hospital and you fed me so full of bullshit that it’s a miracle I’m not fertilizing half the freaking island! You’re tired of pretending now? Fine. Let’s be real. I’m miserable here. I don’t know anyone because I can’t remember them and I am terrified that—”

  I stop and shake my head. I’ve been vacillating, but I know that what I saw was real. I won’t try and convince myself otherwise just to make him feel better, and I sure as hell won’t keep driving myself nuts.

  I saw that man. I know that he was there. I just have to prove it. I can’t do that if he’s on me twenty-four seven so I do something I haven’t done in a long time, not since I left Gloria. I lie.

  “Let’s just call this what it is. I got pregnant and you did the right thing. Great. Thanks. You deserve a badge. I, however, am not accustomed to walking around wearing a hairshirt. I’ll stay.” I lie. “We can just be two ships passing in the night. That means you stay on your side of the bed and stop groping me, and I won’t have to shut my mouth in the morning when you blame me.”

  His jaw drops open at that, and I give a mental high-five.

  “I’ll be sleeping in Angel’s room from now on, and I’d appreciate it if we could talk later about some of the stuff I don’t remember. Yeah, I know you don’t believe me about the amnesia, and now what? I don’t care. You can answer my questions, or I’ll ask Margery or Victor. End of story.”

  Because I need to know what the hell is going on before I can start piecing shit together. It’s that or I’ll be committed sooner or later, and I won’t give this idiot the satisfaction.

  Chapter Thirty

  Cam

  Sleeping beside Shaw when I can’t touch her is the worst feeling in the world, a torture that I didn’t think could be trumped until she left my bed and started bunking with the baby.

  Now I know what real pain is, and I don’t fucking appreciate it. I haven’t slept in three days, and I’ve tossed and turned all through last night, thinking things over.

  I’m not hotheaded, never have been, so the fact that I went so crazy…unthinkable. I blamed her, part of me still does, and yet, no matter how much I despise her lies, I want her all the more.

  It turns me on to no end that my baby is inside her, and I find myself watching her, unconsciously reaching for her at all hours, having to stop myself from contact.

  Not because of me. No, now that I’ve calmed down, I’ve gone out of my way to be softer, maybe try to lure her back, but the woman shoots me glares so hot I feel myself sweating.

  Okay, so maybe she was partially right about me getting up to feed Angelica. I enjoy spending time with my daughter, and part of it had been not wanting to awaken a clearly exhausted Shaw.

  But then I’d still been so angry that part of me had reveled in it. See, I can do everything you can, she doesn’t need you. And things had snowballed from there. Now she acts as if I’m trying to steal the child from her.

  I should probably apologize, or at the very least explain some of these feelings to her, but every time I even contemplate it, she gives me that same look, that cross between distaste and betrayal, and I feel myself pull back a little more.

  If this continues, we’ll be so far apart that I will never find my way back to her, the woman who I will make my wife any day now.

  “Tell me again why I’m sitting in a gentleman’s club at ten on a Friday, looking at your morose face, when I could be balls deep in my woman right now?” Kent mutters, signaling for another drink.

  When the waiter comes round, I order myself a bottle and start getting serious while we wait for the others to arrive.

  Dougal and Griff are due in a minute, and I’m bloody itching for them to get here so I can get this all out. I only have it in me to say it once so I’m not saying a bloody thing as much as Kent wants.

  “Cam.”

  “Shut your whining gob and wait, will ya? Surely you can go without your girl for a bloody hour without your dick falling off?!”

  Maybe I’m bitter and frustrated that he’s getting everything he wants while I’m forced to struggle for happiness at every turn. Doesn’t much matter that it’s through my own doing that I’m at odds with my woman, just irks me to see him so at peace while I’m forced to jack off in an empty bed every night.

  “Ho lads! What brings two of Britain’s most pussy-whipped blokes to our fine establishment late on a Friday night?” Dougal asks, grinning as if he’s a bloody comic.

  “Shut it, you toff. Cam needs help. Or so he bloody says.” Kent gripes, taking another swallow of brandy. “He wouldn’t say a bloody thing until you all got here so I’ve had his sterling company all to myself about a solid bleeding hour now. Thanks much.”

  I roll him a look before signaling for drinks for the blokes.

  “You still chewing yourself about who pushed our lass then?” Dougal groans. “Told ya he wouldn’t quit till he knows, Griff. Bloody bulldog this one.”

  “Yeah, but I can’t figure it. Fanny didn’t do it since this arse finally confessed to being tongue deep in her at the time. Letitia, well, I had her tied up at that stage, literally.” Griffin grins, licking his lips with a leer. “I left her for a few minutes to get the hunt done, and when I came back, she was still there. I checked everything again, and I’m pretty certain it wasn’t her. That leaves that toff, and since he was with a partner, we’re shit out of suspects.”

  “Well, hold on! Why didn’t you rule Lettie out from the start?” Kent demands, scowling darkly.

  Griff colors and coughs before giving us all a shit eating grin.

  “Didn’t want to confess to setting up some video. Looked over it all, and I can guarantee it wasn’t her.”

  “So that leaves us where?” I demand, feeling a cold slice of foreboding pierce my gut.

  We’ve been through it all. Griff, me, and the blokes, and my security. Short of one of the females, we have no other suspects, almost as if she was pushed by a ghost.

  Short of suspecting Shaw herself—I’ve ruled that out thank you very fucking much! That female would die before hurting Angelica, and I know it so…

  “Fuuuck.”

  “Sorry, mate. We tried, but it’s as if a bloody—”

  “Ghost pushed her?” I finish, shoving a hand through my already mussed hair.

  I can’t bloody believe I’m even considering this, but the doubts that have been plaguing me of late have only multiplied, made that much worse by the fact that I’d caught Shaw reading a massive stack of baby literature that I know for a bloody certainty she’d read not months ago while she cuddled against me in bed.

  I can’t deny it any
longer. The woman isn’t playing a part; she’s truly been floating around, muddling her way through things, like which car is hers and where exactly she put her diary.

  Fuck.

  “Well, yeah.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of lads. She woke up one afternoon a week ago, hysterical and bloody sick. She was crying so hard I couldn’t make out half of what she was saying. But one thing was clear.”

  They share a look, obviously picking up on my tone before zeroing in on me.

  “She still hasn’t regained her memory, but she says she saw who pushed her and—”

  “Well, who was it then?! If I get my hands on that fuck and—”

  “She said it was Robert.”

  Dead silence. The kind that makes my skin crawl as they sit back, their mouths hanging as if they can’t quite believe what they’re hearing.

  “You’re having us on, mate.”

  “No. I bloody wish I were, Dougal lad, but she was bloody insistent about that. I caught her looking at albums with Mum, and I swear she turned white as a sheet when she saw his picture. I can’t…she’s pregnant…I can’t have her afraid.”

  The news sets off a round of congratulations and back slapping that I have to admit makes me swell with pride before they get serious again, their eyes going stony.

  “You believe her?” Kent asks reflectively.

  “I didn’t. I went off on her like a madman. Bloody treated her like shit for days, to the point she’s sleeping in Angelica’s nursery, but she’s not budging. I don’t know what to think. Maybe we’re looking for a man who fits Rob’s description.”

  “Not many men who look like Rob though.” Griff points out, signaling for a refill. “One of the best looking blokes I ever laid eyes on, and that’s saying a lot with what I get to see in the mirror every morning.”

  “Vain bastard,” Dougal mutters, just stopping short from flicking at the scar at the right corner of his lips. “Real men have scars.”

  “Oy, I have scars. On my back. The ladies really like me.” He volleys back with a wiggle of his brows.

  “Shut up, the both of you. We have better things to discuss,” Kent says with a growl, shooting them both a glare. “Be serious. We just learned that whoever pushed Ducky looks like Rob.”