Page 75 of Devil's Claim
“It is in my world.”
She eased her head against the seat, laughing bitterly. “Another reason I want nothing to do with your world.”
“You have no choice.” The words tasted bitter on my tongue.
There was no moment of lashing out in anger, no spew of hatred.
Just… silence.
“This marriage. In name only. In business terms only. Right?”
“What are you getting at?”
She closed her eyes and I could see in the reflection of streetlights the tenseness in her facial muscles. “Meaning you don’t want or expect a traditional marriage. Man and wife. In the same bed together.”
“Is it suddenly so disgusting thinking about physical contact with me after what we shared?”
“What we shared wasn’t forced. Had I lost my mind when allowing you to touch me? Yes, but you didn’t force anything on me. I engaged in pure sin. Not this time. If you require me to marry you against my will, then you need to understand I will not willingly give myself to you. So you’ll need to take what you want. If your conscience can live with that, then so be it.”
Inhaling, I heard the shift in her voice, an entirely different level of hatred.
“And here’s another thing. My son is at a very curious age. Everything intrigues him. Strange men on the street create a reaction. Loud noises bother him. Maybe you didn’t notice, but I had to childproof all the lower cabinets in the apartment. I thought I was safe. But he’s clever. He managed to figure one of the plastic latches out on the first day and I found him with a can of Comet he’d knocked over in a circle all around him. His little hands and feet were covered with the poisonous substance, and he was about ready to lick his fingers.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah, shit. Here’s the thing. I’d been out of the room for less than a minute. I’d literally run into my bedroom to grab my purse since I was already running late. That’s all it takes. Less than sixty seconds for a tragedy to occur. Plus, my little boy has terrible nightmares. Anything sets him off. He makes up monsters like every other child can do. I’ve always been able to calm him down after looking under the bed and in the closet, but what if monsters are real? What then? How will I be able to look him in the eye and tell him that he has nothing to worry about and that boogeymen don’t exist?”
She was waiting for my reaction, her face pensive. As the driver turned into the driveway, I wasn’t certain what to say to her.
So I said nothing.
As soon as the SUV was stopped in front of the house, I climbed out while she tried to awaken Maverick.
I moved around to the other side, opening her door. “Let me take him.”
“He’s my son.”
“Christine. Please.”
She peered up at me with uncertainty crossing her face, but she finally allowed me to gather the young boy in my arms. I sighed as he pressed his face into my chest. Benito gave me a strange look, but waited behind, motioning to Carlos to retrieve the packages we’d purchased. Even allowing Maverick to select several toys and books, his own bedding, and a special lamp that had made him shriek in the store hadn’t brought joy to her eyes.
Christine was right behind me, her entire body tense. She obviously believed I would seriously allow anything to happen to her son.
I was a fucking monster, but even I had my limits.
I carried him up the stairs to the bedroom already selected for him, waiting as she pulled down the covers so I could lower him onto the sheet.
When I backed away, she immediately moved to the suitcase she’d brought with a few of his things inside, pulling out pajamas. I was struck by the colorful bears covering the material.
Just watching her with him was touching, maybe too much so. Having lost my conscience years before, I was ill equipped to handle the strange array of emotions.
“I’ll be downstairs when you’re finished. I’ll have the rest of his things brought up in the morning.”
While I waited for her acknowledgement, something told me she had no intention of doing so. Sighing, I headed to the door, stopping once to glance over my shoulder.
She was kissing his forehead, whispering something to him I couldn’t understand as she removed his shirt.
Close by was the stuffed bear he’d cradled on the plane and I was struck by the way the bear’s cloth eyes were staring back at me. There was something even more haunting about the moment, a reminder that what I was doing would alter several lives. The thought weighed heavily on my mind and I leaned against the wall in the hallway where I remained for a full minute.
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