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“I didn’t need your help.” I sigh, biting the inside of my cheek. “I’m sorry. This is going to be difficult for both of us. Given the fact that you’re kidnapping me, it’s going to be harder. Maybe you could let me stay here and we could work on this co-parenting thing.”

“Nice try.” He moves to the pictures that hang on the wall. “You’re the one who wanted to lie to me. You were the one who had a baby without telling me. Did you honestly think you were going to be able to outrun the consequences forever?”

“Maybe.”

There’s a picture of me when it looked like I had about seven basketballs shoved beneath my shirt. It was part of the maternity shoot I had in the park, my white dress sheer with a black bodysuit beneath, showing off the bump in all its glory.

Another one is a picture of me holding Bianca just after she was born, wrapped in her little pink blanket and cradled close to my chest. My heart races just looking at them now and knowing I’m going to have to do whatever it takes to protect her.

Royce takes down the two pictures and puts them on the changing table. “You should probably take these with you.”

“How long are we going to be gone?”

He shrugs and starts opening the dresser drawers, looking at the little outfits folded there. “Don’t know. That really depends on your brother and whether he’s willing to cooperate or not. And you, of course. If you don’t behave, well, I’ve got some fantasies I’ve been meaning to act on.”

He’s not talking about sexual fantasies, not entirely, I can see that from the wicked gleam in his eyes.

“I’m sure Noah will cooperate once he finds out you kidnapped me.” The words are biting as I struggle to hold Bianca while putting the suitcase up on the changing table.

Royce chuckles, hovering close enough behind me that I can feel his breath on the shell of my ear. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that. We’ve been trying to talk to Noah for two weeks and he’s been doing a stellar job at avoiding us.”

Shit.

If Noah isn’t willing to deal with Royce and his family, then I might have to rely on Royce being the man I used to think he was. Or at least trying to bring out that side of him as much as possible before I can run away with Gia.

He might be playing the monster right now, but I know the man I used to love and he was so much more than that.

Royce’s soft spot will be the key to my freedom.

I swallow hard, shifting Bianca around again as I empty a drawer with one hand, putting the clothes into the suitcase.

It would be easier to pack if Bianca were in the crib or her playpen in the other room, but I don’t want to give Royce the chance to get to her. He might pick her up and take off, leaving me without our daughter.

He could want me to feel what he’s now feeling, realizing that there is a life a person could live without their child.

But as I study him and the way he’s watching her with an easy smile, I know he’s telling the truth about not doing anything to hurt her and that includes taking her away from me.

“I could help with her,” Royce says, his voice soft as if he’s speaking to an animal that’s easily spooked. “If you’re willing to let me.”

I should have told him about Bianca as soon as I knew I was pregnant.

Guilt flows through me, sending my stomach lurching as I take a deep breath and hand her over. It’s against my better judgment but his words echo around in my head. I have to behave, do what he wants, even if it goes against my every instinct.

Bianca looks up at him, her eyes widening and her little lips parting. She’s either about to start screaming or babbling away, but with the tears welling in her eyes, it looks like screaming is the more likely answer.

Before she has a chance to let out the first wail, Royce blows out his cheeks, eyebrows lifting and eyes narrowing.

The face he makes is ridiculous, but it gets Bianca laughing.

She waves her little fists in the air as he makes another face at her.

The more time they spend with each other while I gather diapers and feeding supplies from the kitchen, the more I think I might have been wrong for keeping them apart.

But Royce didn’t even give me a chance to explain myself back then.

Not once did he stop and let me explain why I use my mother’s last name instead of my father’s. He didn’t wait around to hear why I would ever even think about keeping something from him.

And now I’m not sure it would matter if he stayed or not.