Page 36 of Daring Wicked Love (Wicked Dade #2)

It had been a full week since the judge ruled in my favor, granting me majority custody and giving Maura right of access during the school holidays.

Arrangements that Maura, predictably, was not happy about.

I had expected her to fight, to argue, to prolong the whole thing further, but surprisingly, although she wasn’t pleased with the ruling, she ultimately accepted it.

After everything she had put me through during the court case, most people would have celebrated the decision. But not me. Not this time.

Penelope loved her mother more than I feared her mother loved her, and I couldn’t bring myself to rip Maura out of her life completely.

So, I reasoned with my ex-wife. I told her that any time she was in Canada or New York, all she had to do was pick up the phone, and I would make sure Penelope could see her.

Simple. Fair.

But then came the excuses. The work. The wedding planning. The endless “things” that would keep her from her daughter. All of it, leading to the same conclusion: she wouldn’t be able to see Penelope until her flower girl dress fitting.

Eight months from now.

Anger would have usually been the first emotion to pop into life, but listening to her list the pathetic reasons that would keep her away from her own child, I was filled with nothing but sadness.

Maura was making that choice, and while she continued to put her daughter on the back burner, I was going to ensure that Penelope never doubted for a second how much I loved her.

I would be the one who stayed.

The one who would always show up, no matter what.

Orla answered after one ring. “What’s the craic?”

“Crack? Like crack cocaine?” I teased. “You’re really embracing this full-time artist lifestyle, aren’t you?”

“It’s an Irish saying. It means what’s happening, or what’s going on.” She laughed. “Gee whizz, what sort of person do you take me for?”

I chuckled. “Where are you?”

“Oh, you know, just in some back alley here, snorting crack.”

I rolled my eyes with a smile. “Apologies, I didn’t mean to insinuate that you take drugs.”

“Whatever you say,” Orla teased. “We’re in the back of the car, on our way to go and get some new art supplies after my last couple paint brushes mysteriously broke.”

“How strange.”

“It’s bizarre, alright.” She giggled. “I wonder what possibly could have happened to them, any ideas?”

Oh, how could I forget?

The image of Orla naked and biting down on her paintbrush, her teeth breaking the wood into two pieces while she tried to stay quiet as I fucked her mercilessly on her own canvas.

It turned out art was indeed very provocative.

Especially when the art in question was a stripped bare Orla, paint smeared on her perfect breasts and the full globes of her ass that it took several long soapy showers together to clean if all off.

The very piece that still made my cock hard whenever I looked at it, now hung proudly in our bedroom.

Our bedroom.

“Earth to Fred.” Orla sounded through the speaker. “Are you still there?”

“Still here.” I walked toward my car. “I’ve just finished my session with Dr. Moorehead, about to head over to the office and sign a few things.”

Her voice softened. “How was it?”

“Surprisingly okay,” I said, the truth slipping out before I could second-guess it. “Actually, if I am being honest, it was better than okay.”

It had been the first session after the final weight of the court case had been lifted from my chest, and for the first time, I didn’t dread facing the man I had the privilege of paying to test my patience.

“We talked about how making amends with the people we’ve hurt is a huge part of learning to forgive ourselves,” I said. “He wants me to make a plan on how I feel like I could achieve that.”

Dr. Moorehead had plenty of suggestions on where I might start, but merde, I had so much I needed to make right.

“That sounds like an important step,” Orla said. “How do you feel about that?”

“It’s been on my mind a lot lately, especially after your run-in with Evelyn and Olivier.

So, I’ve booked flights to go to Monaco for the New Year.

Elliott said everyone is going to surprise my Grand-mère, ” I said.

“I thought the three of us could go. Good chance for you to meet everyone properly, and…it’ll give me time to talk to Jaxon and everyone else. ”

After Orla told me what Evelyn said to her in New York, it had been eating away at me, festering in the back of my mind.

I needed to clear the air with my brother.

Because truthfully? I missed having Jaxon in my life.

And not as a business partner, not as the man who I had my hand in molding and turning into something that resembled my own bitterness and darkness.

No. I missed the boy who used to build sandcastles with me on summer afternoons. The brother who used to make me laugh until milk came out of my nose at the dinner table, and who was my accomplice in stealing the freshly baked pain aux noix before maman noticed they were finished baking.

To think I had dragged him into this mess, forcing him into my path of vengeance, using him to destroy Lexington Reynolds with me — it was wrong. I’d known that for a while, but it took therapy, a hell of a lot of pain, and falling in love to finally see it.

I just prayed it wasn’t too late to make things right.

“I hope you know that I am so freaking proud of you, Fred.”

I’m proud of myself too.

“While I have you, do you still want to do that thing tonight?”

“Pegging?”

She erupted into a fit of laughter down the phone. “That too. Actually, my new toy did arrive this morning. Maybe you could try it out first.”

That piqued my interest. “What new toy is this?”

I could practically hear the smirk in her voice. “You’ll just have to wait until tonight to find out, but it came with a very special outfit that I can’t wait to show you.”

A grin tugged on my lips. “Have I told you that I fucking love you?”

“You’ve only told me twice today, so that’s pretty below average in my books. I’m starting to feel neglected.”

Her mouth, her damn mouth. Always my undoing.

She cleared her throat and lowered her voice. “I meant talking to Pen.”

“We’ll talk to her tonight,” I said. “We’ll do it right after dinner, sound good?”

“That sounds…”

And just like that, life decided to remind me how little control I had.

Everything had been falling into place. I was finally starting to feel like I was heading in the right direction with Penelope in one hand and Orla in the other.

And then, out of nowhere, the real world came rushing at me like a runaway freight train.

The sound of the crash, the sickening metal-on-metal, the violent impact ripped through the speaker of my phone.

My whole world came to a complete standstill.

I don’t think I’ve ever felt so utterly, helplessly useless in my entire thirty-seven years as I listened to the car driving the woman I loved and my daughter crash into something and cut the line completely dead.