Page 1 of Dante (Members From Money Season 2. #153)

The silence stretched between them, the tension as thick as gravy. She had been right to think that this wasn't going to be a happy ever after ending and was now living the cliched ending to her relationship.

"I thought you would be happy." Her voice sounded dull, her expression dazed. The evidence of her pregnancy stood between them, literally. She had placed the sticks, all three of them, on the table in the middle of the room. He had chosen to sit on the sofa across from her. There had been so many signs, but she had refused to acknowledge them.

"Why would you think that?" Impatient and uncomfortable, the man she had been seeing for more than a year shoved off the sofa and started pacing the length of the room.

"This is your problem, Courtney, not mine." He whirled towards her, dark eyes blazing. "You should have seen to it that you were protected."

Refusing to give in to the humiliation and awful hurt, she gathered up her dignity and looked him straight in the eye.

"You son of a bitch. I did not get myself pregnant."

"I used protection." He waved a hand and eyed her warily as the anger surfaced. Courtney Vernon was no pushover and had a formidable temper.

"Look, I'm not saying that it's not mine."

He stepped back and sucked in a breath as she rose slowly.

"If you start throwing things..."

"Get out." She lifted a shaky hand and pointed at the open doorway. "You miserable excuse for a man. Get the hell out of my house, and if I ever see you around, I'm going to sic my brother on you."

His expression hardened at the veiled threat, and he could feel the sweat pooling under his armpits. He hesitated, jaw clenched as if considering a retort, but her glare was enough. The threat of her brother, tall, broad-shouldered, with a reputation for settling scores, hung in the air like an axe about to fall.

Michael scooped up his keys from the coffee table, but not before casting a final, unreadable look at her. For a moment, Courtney thought she saw confusion flicker across his face, guilt or even fear. But then he shut himself down, the mask slipping back over his features.

"Baby, be reasonable." He tried for persuasion, watching her closely. "We never discussed having a child." He held up a hand as she opened her mouth. "You just got this amazing job offer, and I'm on a fast track to becoming a partner in my law firm."

What he did not tell her was that the fast track meant cozying up to the boss' daughter. Which he had been doing for the past three months. He had a chance to make something of himself, and by God, he was not going to let something like an unplanned pregnancy stop him. He cared about Courtney, and he had to admit that she was a beautiful woman, but he had his priorities. And he did not want children. Never did.

He tried for a charming smile. "Why don't we think on this, and when you decide what to do, I'll listen. I'll even spring for half the amount to get rid of it." He gestured to the sticks. "You're only two months."

Her blazing eyes had him backing off and shutting up.

"Call me when you decide." He added as he beat a hasty retreat.

The door closed with a heavy thud, reverberating through the walls and her chest. The only sound left was her own ragged breathing, the clock ticking, and the metallic clatter of the pregnancy tests as her hands began to tremble.

Alone, Courtney let herself sag onto the arm of the sofa. Anger pulsed hot in her veins, but beneath it was something colder, a hollow where hope used to be. She pressed her palms to her eyes, willed herself not to cry, and inhaled the scent of rain on the pavement outside. Not a happy ending, she thought grimly, but maybe, just maybe, the start of something else.

Sitting there, with the sight of the rain sliding along the windowpane, she recalled the interview only a week ago. Ellen Carstairs was the outgoing administrator for the CEO of Livingston Enterprises and had been the one to recommend her.

"Mr. Livingston has left the hiring entirely up to me." She was a prim and tidy woman with graying dark brown hair and sharp blue eyes that saw everything. And she had been working for him for the past twenty years.

"I would not be leaving my position if my sister had not taken ill. She's declining rapidly and needs someone to take care of her." Her eyes had sized up the coolly beautiful woman seated across from her in the large conference room for a minute. "He's a difficult man, but a fair one. He wants things done a certain way and does not tolerate tardiness or mistakes. I have learned to anticipate his needs."

She worried the pearls around her neck, long fingers with unpainted nails slightly restless. "I know you, Courtney. You and your brother have proven to be exemplary examples of ambition and hard work." A smile curved the woman's stern lips, softening her features. "When you both came to live with me for those six months before you both went off on your own, it was a joy to watch you survive an impossible and what could have been a tragic situation."

Her expression sobered.

The silence in her living room seemed to solidify, thick, tangible, pressing on her from every direction. For a long moment, Courtney stared at the rain, unable to move, the old couch's faded cushions swallowing her limbs. Grief, for everything she might lose and everything already lost, mingled with the wary excitement of possibility. The world had closed a door, but that left her facing a window, and it was open just a crack.

She drew a shaky breath and allowed her mind to drift back, not to Michael and his hollow words, but to that conference room and the faint scent of old books and lemon polish. Ellen Carstairs sat across from her, an emblem of crisp competence, her eyes kind but unyielding.

"You remind me of myself when I was your age," Ellen had said, voice softened by memory. "Determined, a little too proud, but ready for challenge. If Mr. Livingston gives you trouble, stand your ground. He'll respect you more for it. And remember, you're not alone. Sometimes the people you think least likely will surprise you."

A beat of vulnerability flickered across Ellen's face then, quickly masked, and Courtney realized that strength often came disguised in the quiet gestures of those who had weathered storms. She remembered the way Ellen's hand had trembled when she mentioned her sister. The cracks in someone's armor were always there, if you looked close enough.

Now, planted firmly in her living room, Courtney pressed her hands flat to her knees and straightened her spine. She would call Ellen tomorrow, she decided. There was paperwork still to fill, logistics to arrange. But more than that, she wanted to say thank you. Thank you for the faith, the encouragement, and even the warning.

Outside, the rain eased to a gentle drizzle. Courtney rose, her movements slow, but with a resolve that grew steadier with each breath. She could not control Michael, or the past, or even the uncertainty curling inside her. But she could choose her next step.

She crossed to the window, watched a car's headlights slice through the blue-gray dusk, and let herself hope, just a little, that the next chapter, whatever shape it took, might belong to her and her alone.

Courtney realized that her nerves were not only highly strung, but they were also screaming. Her brother remained silent during the entire time, just sitting there and not even moving. She had contemplated long and hard about telling him but decided that there was no way she could keep something like this from him.

Shifting in her seat, she forced herself to remain seated, her hands clasped tightly in her lap.

"Where is he?" The deep voice was quiet, too quiet and too pleasant, as if he was asking about the weather. She had told the bastard Michael that she would set her brother loose on him, but that had been pride and anger talking. Caleb Vernon was a dedicated cop who spent three of his ten years at the precinct working undercover. He was tough, had to be since they had been brought up in the system. He dealt with the dregs of society, and nothing fazed him, except when it came to her.

"He's gone." She rushed to say. "I told him to get the hell out of my life. I..."

"Where is he, Courtney?" The deadly and uncompromising tone warned that she had better try to diffuse the anger, or it was going to get ugly and soon. She was almost tempted to let him loose on that bastard, but common sense prevailed.

"I don't know where he is." She sprang to her feet as he lunged to his and caught him at the doorway and hung on.

"Let go."

"So you can do what? Beat the guy to a pulp?" She was determined to keep her voice on an even keel, even though her heart was beating like a sledgehammer. "That will only humiliate me and cause you to lose your damn job. Do you think I could ever live with that?"

"I can get him in places no bruises will show." His mahogany eyes gleamed at the thought. "He messed with you."

"I'm an adult, and he did not force me. We were in a relationship."

"I warned you."

"Yes." It more than irked that he had indeed warned her that there was something off about Michael, and she had not listened. All she had been thinking about was turning thirty and wanting to settle down. And being sick of the small pickings in the dating pool.

"Please, let's sit."

For one long moment that seemed to stretch out, he stood there, staring down at her, eyes hooded and expressionless. No wonder he was so damn good at his job, she thought shakily. The man could bore holes in you without seeming to even try. But slowly, he relaxed, expression softening slightly. With a nod of his head, he assented and walked back to the sofa.

"What the hell are you going to do?"

She had been thinking about that as well and still had not come up with a viable solution. She had a new job, one that was going to take a lot out of her. She could not very well walk in and tell her boss that she was pregnant.

Her secret pressed against her ribs, heavy, unyielding, a wordless ache that shrouded her every thought. Caleb watched her, expectations and worry stretched tight over his features. Courtney drew in a breath, tasting the metallic tang of anxiety on her tongue, and forced herself to look him in the eye.

"I'm not asking for your help," she said, voice trembling but determined. "Not with this. I just need..." She stopped, unsure what it was she truly wanted: forgiveness, strength, or simply space to breathe.

"That's just too bad, because you've got it." His tone was brusque, just what she needed to steady herself.

Caleb's jaw worked as if he were chewing the words he wanted to say, weighing each against the burden of his love for her and the code he lived by. In the end, he only nodded, his hands curling into fists that soon relaxed on his knees.

"That job," he said quietly, "honey, what are you going to do about it?" He looked at her, and in the hush between them, Courtney sensed the old promise. He would be there, even if he couldn't fix everything. Maybe especially then.

Rain pattered again against the window, softer now. Courtney's heart steadied, lulled by the knowledge that, no matter how fractured the future seemed, she wasn't facing it alone. She pressed her palms to her stomach, feeling the tremor run through her, and let the truth settle: she would find a way forward, one faltering step at a time.

"I have to tell him." Her entire body trembled at that. "And hope for the best."

His brows lifted. "You think the guy's going to say, 'Congratulations, welcome to the company, we're here for you?' From what I've read about him, he's a piece of work and difficult as hell. He's going to show you to the damn door, and especially now, you need a well-paying salary."

"What do you suggest?" She had spent hours thinking the very same thing.

"Don't tell him."

She simply stared. "I cannot very well start out my work relationship, our work relationship, on a lie." She placed a hand on her flat stomach. "It's not like I can keep it a secret for very long."

His eyes sharpened. "You're keeping it?"

Her eyes flashed fire. "What the hell do you think? That because that piece of trash doesn't want to have anything to do with us, I'm going to get rid of my baby?"

"It's not a baby yet." Her brother muttered, sending her temper escalating.

"You can damn well walk out that door, Caleb Vernon! Right now. I'm not asking for your help. Somehow, I will get through this. I..."

"Back the hell down." He ordered. "All the way down." His own temper spiked. "When have I ever not been there for you? When? Name one damn time."

Her anger deflated, leaving her shaken and weary.

"Always." She murmured. "I'm scared." She admitted tremulously. "I always thought I was too smart to ever have anything like this happen to me." She blinked back the tears fiercely, refusing to show any vulnerabilities, even to him. They had been brought up in the system, and when he turned sixteen, he had worked like a fiend to take care of her. At eighteen, he had found them their first dingy apartment and was determined that she was going to fulfill her dreams of going to college.

She remembered the threadbare couch pressed against peeling wallpaper, the smell of burnt toast on Saturday mornings, and the way Caleb had never once let the world convince him she deserved less than everything. She wiped at her eyes, annoyance prickling at the edges of her sorrow.

"Sorry," she whispered, not sure if she meant it for the venom in her voice or the rawness of her fear. "I just... I don't want to screw this up, for any of us."

Caleb leaned forward, elbows on knees. "Hey. You won't. You're tough, Court. You always have been."

She scoffed, a shaky laugh tumbling out. "I don't feel tough. I feel like I'm one wrong step from losing it all."

"That's what being brave is. Doing it anyway." His words filled the dim room, somehow both gruff and gentle.

A silence lingered, heavy but not suffocating. The rain eased, tapering to ghostly streaks on the glass. Courtney glanced down at her hands, slender fingers trembling but steady enough, and let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

"I'm not alone," she said quietly, as if testing the truth of it. "No matter what happens."

Caleb nodded, a trace of a smile flickering. "Not ever."

For a moment, Courtney allowed herself to believe it. That there was a path forward, uncertain but possible, marked by the stubborn hope that had carried them this far. She straightened her shoulders, resolved to face what awaited, whatever it might be.

He had beaten the odds and was both father and mother to her. Not just her big brother, but also her friend. He would stand by her no matter what.

"You think I should keep it to myself for a little bit?"

He nodded. "Until you've established yourself at the company." He flicked a glance over her beautiful face, lips curving slightly. They had some sort of resemblance to each other. Anyone looking at them would see that they were related. But his sister had an exotic appearance that caused the opposite sex to take second and third looks.

Her face was narrow, chin pointed. Large mahogany eyes dominated that face. Her skin was a flawless coffee mixed with a touch of heavy cream. She was petite and slender and as graceful as a gazelle. At one point, she had entertained the idea of being a dancer, and he regretted never being able to help her fulfill that dream. Instead, she had gone into business, majoring in accounting and computer science.

She was a kick-ass admin, and the guy she would be working for would be lucky to have her.

"And with your rep, that's going to take a couple of days."

She smiled tremulously, her morale boosted considerably. His anger had all but disappeared, and she hoped to God that when he left her, it would have gone completely.

"Move in with me."

She started. "Your apartment is smaller than mine." She pointed out, looking around the cramped space. It was several steps up from the places they had lived in the past but was far from being luxurious. More like convenient. She had done her best to spruce things up, by repainting the walls a pale lime green and recovering the threadbare sofa to match the walls. Thin gauzy curtains billowed at the windows, letting in the thin afternoon sun trying to peep through the gloomy clouds.

"We could spring for a bigger place." He scooted forward, the idea blossoming. "You're going to need someone there with you. Doctor's appointments and such."

She shook her head. The idea had its appeal, but she was determined to do as much as she could on her own. Her brother had his life to live, and as a cop and a single man, he also needed his privacy. As she did.

"Courtney, don't be so damn stubborn."

"I'm not." She smiled at his disgruntled tone. "I have no intention of cramping your style. We live near enough to each other for you to be able to pop in when I need you."

He grunted, but it was more affection than protest. "You say that now, but just wait. The first time you try to put together one of those flat-pack bookshelves or setting up the crib and realize you're missing the little Allen wrench, you'll want backup."

"Maybe. Maybe not." Courtney's smile grew, warming her features. "I think I'm allowed a few disasters, aren't I? That's half the adventure."

He reached over and gave her hand a quick squeeze, his callused palm swallowing her fingers in reassurance. "Just promise me you'll call when you need. For anything."

She nodded, the gesture small but sure. "I promise." The words felt both heavy and light, a contract inked in trust.

A comfortable hush spun around them, the last drops of rain ticking faintly against the window. Courtney found herself looking out, heart thumping with wary anticipation, but this time the fear was tempered by something fiercer, a quiet confidence, sharpened by love and the relentless faith of family.

"We've come a long way," she murmured, almost to herself.

He smiled, the kind that softened his whole face. "We're just getting started, sis." He looked around the tiny living room with its comfortable throws and gaily colored quilt rugs on pine floors that shone with loving care and remembered threadbare carpets, bed bugs, leaking faucets and mold they had had to endure for years. He had worked his ass off before getting into the academy and would have done it ten times over. Three jobs, with his bones singing with exhaustion, but his sister had had food in her belly and clothes on her back. They had indeed come a very long way.

His mouth tightened at the predicament she found herself in. Knocked up by some unconscionable bastard and forced to do this on her own. They had both been abandoned by their single mother when she decided that she could not take care of two kids on her own. Caleb had been ten, two years older than his sister, when the woman had left them outside the door of the children's home and fled. To this day, he had no idea where she had taken off to and frankly did not care. His only thought had been to take care of Courtney and see to her needs.

Several times during their stay in the group home, they had tried to separate them, explaining that a family would never be able to take them both, and he had fought tooth and nail. His sister stays with him. After a time, they had been left alone.

Taking her slender hand in his, he squeezed. "I'm here."