Dawn Read online

  “No. I saw him. I thought I should see you.”

  I wrapped my arms around my midsection. “Okay. Why?”

  Sparrow’s wide chest inflated and deflated. “I didn’t make an effort—well, I did. I made an effort not to see you when...before.” He shook his head. “I was blinded by what I considered my failure to keep one of my men safe. I either didn’t think about how the loss of Mason affected anyone but me, or if I’m honest, I didn’t care.” Turning a bit, he lifted his hand to behind his neck, his bicep flexing in his rolled-up sleeve. “This time...I thought maybe...this time I should tell you what I didn’t say then.”

  Heaviness filled my chest with too many emotions. Hugging myself tighter, I said, “Then was a lifetime ago. This outcome is different.”

  “Today could have been another lifetime, and I want you to know something.”

  The small hairs on the back of my neck bristled as we stood amongst the stupid furniture that no one ever used. “Okay.”

  “You were brought here by Mason. You stayed here because of Reid. That was then...before. And I will fucking kill either of them if they put us through this again—today was bad enough—but if that day ever comes, I want you to know your future is in your own hands. Finances should never be a concern, but if you want to stay here, in your home, here with your family, that decision is not contingent upon either your brother or your husband. This is your home, Lorna. There are no qualifiers on that statement. You may opt to take the first fucking plane out of here and that’s your prerogative.” He took a deep breath. “The possibility of that decision came to me today, and I decided it was important that you never need wonder where you fit in all of this.”

  With each blink, another tear joined those now flowing down my cheeks. “I don’t want to consider that day.”

  “No one does. Even so, today when I first got word that Reid was down, my second thought was you, followed by what an ass I’d been when it was Mason.”

  I shook my head. “Like we’ve said, that was a long time ago.”

  The tips of his lips moved upward. “Even so, I’ve been told I’m still capable of displaying that characteristic today.”

  My cheeks rose. “No comment from me.” I looked toward our apartment door. “Are you sure you don’t want to come in?”

  “I’m sure. I’ll let you two have some time alone.”

  “Thank you.” My gratitude was genuine, not only for the invitation and admission of my place within this Sparrow world, but more so for the effort Sterling Sparrow had just made. In the reality of our pecking order, the king of the jungle didn’t owe me anything, and yet he’d made an effort, given me his word, and solidified my position with his promise.

  Sparrow nodded.

  Turning, I took a step toward the apartment as Sparrow pushed the button beside the elevator. Quickly, I turned back. “What was your first thought?”

  “What?”

  “You said when you got word that Reid had been shot, your second thought was about me and how things went when Mason...What was your first thought?”

  “That I’d fucking burn Englewood to the ground because payback is a bitch.”

  “Englewood?”

  “Yes.”

  The mention of the neighborhood made my stomach twist. “Why Englewood?”

  “That was where it happened.”

  “Oh, I guess I didn’t know that. Why was Reid in Englewood?”

  Why wasn’t he on 2 where he usually stayed?

  Sparrow reached for the elevator door, holding it open and keeping the elevator in place. “That’s a discussion that needs to be between you and your husband.” He stepped inside. “Tell him he better not enter 2 until Renita gives him clearance or else.”

  A grin bloomed over my lips. “I’ll tell him.”

  Instead of turning away, I watched the elevator doors closing, inch by inch, obscuring Sterling Sparrow. It was clear that the mission he’d set out to accomplish was complete as he lifted his chin and inhaled. Stress still showed upon him—the clenching of his jaw, the tightening of his neck, and even in the stiffness of his stance. Perhaps it was because of what happened with Reid or the kidnapping or maybe about his future child. With a man like Sterling Sparrow, rarely did he share those thoughts or worries.

  When night came and Sparrow finally closed his eyes, I doubted it was without contemplating the burdens of his reign. Yet the vastness of the Sparrow world was his doing. And I knew that he would continue doing whatever it took to maintain that status without complaint while occasionally allowing someone like me to catch a glimpse into the man under the king’s crown.

  Once the elevator was fully closed, I made my way back to our apartment door as questions and thoughts swirled through my mind. Why would Reid be in Englewood? Did this have anything to do with our kidnapping?

  I hoped that whatever took him to that part of the city was because of Sparrow business. I paused with my hand on the doorknob—if it was Sparrow business, the king himself wouldn’t have answered the way he did.

  His answer meant one thing. Reid was there because of something other than Sparrow.

  Was he there for me?

  Turning the doorknob, I stepped inside our apartment. Reid’s eyes were open wide.

  “Well, shit, what did Sparrow say?”

  Lorna

  I tried to read my husband’s expression as his question hung in the air.

  “Sparrow said that if you enter 2 without Dr. Dixon’s permission, you’re in trouble.”

  Seeing the anguish in his grimaced expression, I decided more questions could wait. “Let me help you.” I hurried over to him as he tried to sit up. After placing more pillows behind him, I reached for his large hand. “I want to know what happened, but even without details, I know that I almost lost you.” The tears came back.

  My husband had been shot.

  “You promised me you’d come home.”

  Letting go of my hand, Reid palmed my cheeks and pulled me closer until our lips touched. Though I was worried my proximity would cause him more pain, his hold was unrelenting as our kiss deepened. In his grasp, warmth returned to my skin, and my body relaxed. When I finally pulled back, I stared into his eyes, our noses almost touching.

  “I’m here.” His deep, comforting tenor settled over me, reassuring me that my fears hadn’t fully materialized. Yes, there was more that I wanted to understand. The concept of not telling me or any of the Sparrow women what went on would not suffice today. Something akin to anger bubbled within me. “But you almost weren’t. I don’t want to lose you.”

  “I never want to leave you, Lorna, know that. Never doubt it.”

  “Then tell me what happened.”

  “What Renita said...there were two shots. One hit my arm” —he lifted his right arm— “and the other my chest.”

  “I know that part. Tell me where you were and why you were there. Tell me who shot at you and why.” When he didn’t respond, I stood. Balling my fist, I brought it to my hip. “No, Reid. This isn’t one of those times when you don’t need to or can’t tell me. I demand to know why you were in Englewood.”

  He grimaced as he took a deep breath. “How did you know that was where we were?”

  “Sparrow let it slip, but he wouldn’t tell me anything else.”

  Reid shook his head. “I don’t know how much to tell you.”

  “All of the truth.” When he only stared my direction, I added, “I can handle it, damn it. I can. Don’t treat me like Mason does. I’m not twelve.”

  At the jab, my husband visibly flinched. “I fucking know you’re not twelve. You were ten.”

  “What?”

  “Mason and I went to Englewood to visit someone from your mother’s past...someone from your past.”

  My stomach twisted as I tried to connect the dots.

  Englewood.

  My past.

  My mother’s past.

  Ten years old.

  I made a connection, but how cou
ld he? There was no way any of those dots should even be on my husband’s radar. “What are you talking about?”

  “Come here,” he beckoned. As I neared, Reid reached for my hand. “Last night, do you remember what you said after you colored your hair?”

  I didn’t. It was a bit of a fog, one I assumed I’d created with the sleeping pills. Although, I did recall our conversation this morning. “Something about you fucking a brunette?”

  Reid sighed. “Sweetheart, last night you were upset and saying things that didn’t make complete sense. You talked about not looking like her and saying you weren’t her. Then you used the name Anna.”

  Letting go of his hand, I stepped away. “I don’t recall that. You know that I took sleeping pills. I was probably delusional; besides, I don’t even know an Anna.”

  Tilting his head, Reid stared for a minute, his dark, penetrating gaze searching beyond my surface, beyond my new darker hair. A chill scurried over my arms and legs as silently he stripped away my rebuttal.

  “Reid, it must have been the sleeping pills.”

  “You did know an Anna, Lorna. You worked with her.”

  I shook my head and walked toward the kitchen. “Oh yeah.” My dismissive tone reflected my desire to end this conversation. “That was a long time ago and even so, I haven’t thought of her, well...since I left that fleabag hotel.”

  My stomach twisted as memories returned, ones I’d cast aside when Mason moved me to this tower.

  Inhaling, my husband’s wide chest inflated as his expression grimaced. “I’m not Laurel. I don’t understand how memories work or how they can be recalled. Last night, after you were asleep, I asked Mason about Anna.”

  Spinning in place, I slapped my hands on the countertop of the breakfast bar and looked into the living room. “If you have questions about me, ask me. Again, I’m not made of glass. And I’ll answer. There’s nothing to recall. She was a bitch of a manager.”

  “You said you remembered smells and being told you were pretty like your mother.”

  Simply hearing his words caused my already-twisted stomach to drop and my skin to feel tight. “No, you’re wrong.”

  “I know what I heard.”

  “Maybe you were dreaming, or you’re delusional. Or maybe I was. I’m still fighting memories or the drug that’s blocking them. Those thoughts and confusion are caused from recent events, not twenty-five years ago.”

  With concerted effort, my husband moved his feet from the sofa and slowly stood.

  “Stop, you need to rest.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest as he slowly came my way.

  “Last night, you said that Nancy told you rape only involves intercourse.”

  This wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have or thoughts I wanted to entertain. My mouth felt unusually dry. Spinning toward the sink, I reached for a glass from the cupboard above and after turning on the faucet, filled the glass, listening to the water instead of the man coming nearer. As I drank, my ears filled with the pounding of my pulse thundering in my ears.

  As I put the empty glass on the counter, Reid’s words penetrated my thoughts, coming in fragments or syllables.

  Reaching for my shoulders, he spun me until I was facing him. “Lorna, are you listening to me?”

  Even though I nodded, my truthful answer was no. I wasn’t listening. I was watching his full lips, knowing their movement as they spoke my name, imagining their taste when we kissed, or their power of persuasion when that kiss deepened. Leaning toward him, I stood taller on my tiptoes and brought my lips to his. When I backed away, I feigned a smile. “Let’s not talk about this. You should rest.”

  “Lorna, you lived in Englewood when you were young.”

  My head shook as I rubbed my suddenly cooled hands together. “I lived in a lot of places when I was young.”

  “His name was Gordon Maples.”

  The shaking of my head increased in speed. “He wasn’t significant. I don’t want to talk about him.”

  “Gordon Maples didn’t deny my accusation.”

  “Stop.” I stepped farther into the kitchen. “I should make us dinner.”

  Reid’s strong hands were again grasping my shoulders. “Lorna, you were a child. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “No. No.” My pitch rose above his deep tenor. “Stop talking about it. We can’t discuss it.”

  Oh God, I remembered his yellow teeth and dirty hands.

  The stench of him.

  Reaching for the collar of my top, I pulled it up, stretching it over my lips and nose as my shoulders rolled forward, and I looked down at the floor.

  Our floor wasn’t like his. Our home was clean. There were no stacks of empty beer cans, no stains on the carpet, and no piles of dirty laundry.

  With veiled eyes, I peered up at my husband. “Please, Reid.”

  “Talk to me, Lorna. God, I want to help you.”

  The room blurred as I sniffled, pushing my blouse down from my face. “This isn’t helping me. I haven’t thought about...” Would saying the words aloud bring the darkness back?

  “He hurt you.”

  “He hurt everyone including Mason and Nancy.”

  Reid’s arms surrounded me, securing my arms to my sides as he pulled me against his hard chest. Tucking my head under his chin, he enveloped me—captured me. As my eyes closed, I was surrounded by his warmth, the rhythm of his breathing, and the lingering scent of his cologne. His baritone voice and steady cadence vibrated his chest as he spoke. “Lorna, I’m not trying to upset you. Fuck, I’d do anything to take it all away.”

  Keeping my eyes closed against his clean shirt, scenes I’d tucked away played like a highlights film, small snippets of recollections. Shaking my head, I pushed the memories away and looked up. “I’m fine. It wasn’t what you think.” I peered upward. “It wasn’t rape.” I shrugged. “He called it a game.”

  “Grown men don’t play those kinds of games with little girls.”

  I leaned into my husband’s embrace. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  His large hand gently rubbed my back. “If you ever do, I’m here. If you never want to, I’m still here.”

  The weight of what happened so long ago fell over me like a weighted blanket. I spoke my words muffled by Reid’s chest. “I didn’t want to play, but he would say that if I didn’t, he’d play with Missy.”

  “Fucker,” Reid mumbled.

  The guilt gnawed at my stomach. “He didn’t force me.”

  Reid pinched my chin between his thumb and forefinger, lifting it until our eyes met. “Using your little sister as leverage was forcing you.”

  My mind knew Reid was right. As a grown adult, I could see the interaction differently than I did as a child. “You’re right.”

  “He can’t hurt anyone ever again.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Lorna, he admitted to hurting you. I would wager you weren’t the only one he ever hurt or played games with. Men like him don’t deserve the luxury of breathing.”

  I took a step back. “He’s dead?”

  Reid nodded.

  “Oh my God. Is that why you were shot? Did he shoot you?”

  “When I told Mason what you’d said last night, he was as determined as I to talk to Maples face-to-face. No, Maples didn’t shoot me. Mason and I had backup Sparrows. We were prepared. Mason insisted on the vests.”

  My trembling hand went to my husband’s chest. “I’m so glad.”

  “His daughter Zella was there when we got there.”

  I scrunched my nose. “She was older than Anna. Why would she be there? When I worked at the motel, she was married to some guy.”

  “I believe she was living with Maples. They have a child together.”

  My head was again spinning as it shook. “No, he’s her father, her biological father.”

  “He bragged about the kid being his and being a boy.”

  Inhaling, I took a step back and leaned against the kitchen counter, u
nsure if I wanted to hear more. “Just tell me how you were shot.”

  “When we arrived, Mason sent Zella and the baby away on a fake mission. But before she left, Maples told her to take her baby to someone. We later figured out it was a code. When she left the house, she didn’t go on the mission but instead went across the street. After Maples was dead, we called for cleanup and stepped out onto the porch. A man named Stephens came out of his house across the street with a shotgun.”

  My head was shaking. “What happened to him?”

  Reid’s head tilted. He didn’t need to answer. I saw his response in his eyes. I pushed myself away from the counter. “This is wrong. I don’t want people dead because of me. It wasn’t...” I remembered Maples’s stench, the phantom odor causing my nose to wrinkle, and his voice as he tugged on my hair.

  I reached for my hair, pulling a curl forward, barely seeing the new chestnut shade. “This is entirely my fault. I shouldn’t have said anything.” I looked over at Reid. “I didn’t mean to and now you were shot and two people are dead because of me.”

  “No, Lorna, Maples is dead because he was scum.” Reid again reached for my hand. “Men like him never stop. He remembered you, Lorna, and he fathered his daughter’s child.”

  A chill ran through me. “That’s not the first one.”

  “What?”

  I swallowed the bile bubbling in my throat. “I remember one time, in the middle of the night, I saw him with Anna. I didn’t understand what was happening—what they were doing—but now I do. It was before we left his house. Anna was only twelve. Her oldest child is her father’s. She married to get away from him.”

  “She told you that?”

  “Not in so many words. I think it was why she still hated me when I worked at the motel. She was jealous because I got away.”

  “He was a sick man.” Reid’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “Why would anyone go back to him?”

  “You mean Zella?”

  “I mean, Zella and your mother.”

  “Nancy went back to him?”

  My husband palmed my cheeks. “You’ve been struggling with not remembering and not knowing. Do you want to know more? Or would it be better not to tell you what happened and what we learned?”