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Icy dread freezes the air in my lungs. “We can get a paternity test. I’ll stay in New York. I don’t want your money.”
He cups my face in his hands. “You don’t need to convince me. I’d happily give you and the baby everything you ever wanted.”
Given Jackson’s thoughts on quitting hockey, he’d spoil a child with more than money…completely disregarding Kyle.
The pieces come together, making sense of the madness. Jackson will have a family that won’t include his father, because that abusive asshole is never coming near me or my baby. That day at the penthouse, Kyle witnessed his biggest fears becoming reality—Jax getting sober, choosing me, creating a life outside of him and drugs.
My eyes brim with tears. “How did he manipulate you?” I ask, referring to the text.
He pushes his fingers through his hair and draws a deep breath. “When my mother died, I inherited all her wealth.”
I furrow my brows, my brain having trouble connecting the dots. “Okay…?”
He lowers his gaze and takes my hand, rubbing circles over my knuckles with his thumb. “Because of my mental health and addiction, Kyle controls my inheritance. I used it to purchase the house in Santa Monica. I’ve never accessed the funds before and didn’t think it’d be a big deal.”
Exasperated, I cock my head. “You already bought the house?”
“Yes,” he waves me off, “but wait before you get pissed at me. It gets worse.”
What could possibly be worse than the situation we’re in?
“Kyle threatened to contest the purchase unless I met with him. He wanted to party in Vegas. I refused but arranged it for him. When I tried to blow him off that night, he said he’d ruin you, me, and Ethan. He claimed he had pictures. In hindsight,I should’ve told you both. I shouldn’t have gone, but it was late, and I didn’t want to burden either of you with my problems.”
“Pictures?” My throat tightens, and I struggle to articulate the word.
He brings my trembling fingers to his lips, his gaze filled with regret. “Kyle had photos of you and Ethan kissing in a diner downtown.”
Breakfast before we went to Santa Monica. We were swept up in the moment and careless.
The tremor in my hands works its way through my body. “Did you tell Ethan?”
“Yes. He’s only mad I failed to call him and played into Kyle’s games.”
“You may not have wanted to burden us—which is bullshit, since we were supposed to be in a relationship—but you also didn’t want us to find out about the house.” Hot tears spill down my cheeks, a salty burn against my heated skin. “Kyle took pictures of Ethan and me, and it didn’t cross your mind he’d do the same to you? Fuck, Jackson.”
Defeated, he rests his elbows on the island, drops his head into his palms, and scrubs his eyes. “You’re right. I fucked up about the house, but I wasn’t thinking straight that night in Vegas. My memory is spotty, and I had no intention of drinking or using ever again.”
He leans back and empties his pockets on the counter—wallet, keys, cash, Jolly Ranchers, sonogram pic—and hands me a crumpled piece of paper.
I unfold what appears to be lab results, but, unfamiliar with the medical jargon, I glance at him in question.
“I tested positive for GHB, the date-rape drug.”
The words on the page run together, and the world around me teeters.
“He wanted to end our relationship, make it appear as if I was incapable of handling my trust, get me in trouble with the league—maybe even send me back to the hospital—forcing me to depend on him.”
I stand on unsteady legs, both physically and emotionally drained. I spent my days hating Jax for relapsing and hating myself for leaving. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep—I was destroyed.
Then, there’s the nightmare he endured.
For what? Because Kyle opposes me and won’t let Jax go?
His arm comes around my waist and draws me between his knees. “Where are you going?”
A choked sob escapes me. “You should find someone your father approves of. Your life would be a lot easier.”
His expression hardens. He glares at me through glassy, bloodshot eyes. “I don’t give a fuck about Kyle. I hope he drops fucking dead. I want a life withyou, no matter what it takes. I’m not leaving, and I won’t let him separate us.”