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“But she’s not yours,” I growl back.
“No, she's not, but if you keep fucking up, you best believe someone will swoop in and take her, new baby and all.”
The thought of someone else in Megan’s bed or raising my baby makes me sick to my stomach. Never in a million years did I think we'd ever be this far apart from each other, physically or emotionally.
“I don’t know how to fix it,” I say in a defeated tone that I don’t even recognize myself.
“The fuck you don’t know how to fix it!" Vaughn exclaims. "Do what you do best. Make your point. Make it over the top. And then you grovel.”
“She loves you, Hunt, and I bet she’s looking for any excuse to take you back, but you have to give her one," Christian also offers.
Yeah,I ponder to myself.
I have to give her one.
Chapter 16
Ten Percent?
HUNTER
Part of the reason I’ve become so successful in my business is that I remain neutral in any situation with any criminal.
I’m Switzerland.
I can talk to anyone about anything, and my feelings aren’t involved. Why? Because I don’t have feelings in these matters, not when it comes to business anyway. I was taught early that business is business, and if you allow emotions to get in the way, it’s the kiss of death.
But there’s always a first time for everything.
Usually, I set up a meeting between clients at my club because it’s a neutral location over which I have complete control. Not this time, though. And I’m incredibly uncomfortable right now.
It doesn’t matter that Megan isn’t working as the club manager anymore. I’m still not going to let Fabre or anyone related to him, who works for him, or who even breathes the same air as him inside my club. For one, there’s the obvious reason. I wouldn’t want it to get back to Megan that I’vearranged a meeting with the fucker who just kidnapped her. I know that woman of mine and a million different scenarios would run through her head, and none of them are good.
She’d probably be afraid I’d kill him.
Very possible.
Or that she could still save that traitorous Naomi from a future that’s been cemented for her since birth.
Not possible.
Lamenting about my reaction toward Fabre, or the idea of still saving Naomi or even Parker, for that matter, is not what I want the future mother of my child to be doing. She should be stuffing her face with delicious food, shopping for the baby, getting foot rubs, and being pampered in all the ways an expectant mother should.
But I still have time to make this right. The second half of her pregnancy will be better than the first half. And it starts with me allowing this meeting to unfold in a very uncomfortable way.
I’ve got my reasons.
Jack and I got here early. He’s clearly nervous as he paces the small balcony off the side of the suite. Lars is sitting quietly in a chair in the corner of the suite, keeping an eye on him. Nervous clients always make Lars uncomfortable. He thinks they’re “liable to do any damn thing” when their nerves are involved.
I’m sitting at the large desk in the room, having a cup of coffee with a shot of whiskey…waiting.
Finally, there’s a knock at the door.
Lars rises and looks through the peephole, raising three fingers, which means Fabre is there with two other people.
I give a head nod, permitting Lars to open the door, and it’s not until I see the potbelly asshole walk through the threshold that I realize this is a dumb ass idea.
“Middleton,” he says with a grin. “I thought we’d meet at your notorious club, but this is nice too.”