Page 49 of Forbidden Confessions, Volume 2 (The Forbidden Volumes #1)

Ridge

A t Kristi’s bombshell, my head gets fuzzy and my body goes numb. “You’re sure?”

She all but wilts against the toilet with a sigh. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to hold you responsible.”

“Why not? I’m the father.”

I know that for a fact. Before Rand and Sophie’s wedding, Kristi hadn’t had sex with anyone since her broken college engagement.

They both told me that, and it explained one hundred percent just how tight she was.

After the five steamy hours I spent in her bed, she was as wrecked as I was. No way she’s been fucking anyone else.

“Yes, but it’s not as if you ever returned any of my calls, so why would I think you give a shit?”

“Never mistake me being up to my eyeballs in criminals with me not giving a shit.” I curse. “When did you find out?”

“Three days ago.”

“Were you going to tell me?”

Kristi hesitates such a long time, I worry she’s going to say no. Finally, she closes the toilet lid and flushes. It’s a miracle, but there’s a bar of soap on the basin. She unwraps it and lathers up in silence.

“Well?” I prompt.

“Probably. I was still undecided, but I think, at some point, I would have swallowed my pride and asked Rand to reach out to you so we could talk.”

Yeah, I can see why that might not have been something she was eager to do. “He doesn’t know?”

“No one does.”

“Not even Sophie. Wow.” I don’t ask. If she knew, Rand would, too.

Kristi forces a smile. “I should look on the bright side. We’ll be pregnant at the same time and our kids can grow up playing together.”

Since they’ll be cousins. “Sure. This accelerates my timetable, but I’ll make it work.”

“What timetable?”

“Our first kid. I was thinking we’d work on that this fall. Winter at the latest, but?—”

“What? You assumed after spending a handful of hours in bed with me that I’d just let you knock me up?”

I had a whole plan. I probably should have filled her in. “Well, I figured if we’re going to spend fifty years together, we’ll have kids. I’d like four. Since I grew up with three older brothers, I wouldn’t trade it for the world, but if you want more, I’m open to that.”

“More?” She huffs. “You’re crazy, you know that? And that’s the second time you’ve said something about us spending fifty years together. How is that going to work? Someday, I’m going to want to get married.”

“Well, yeah. I figured we’d do that as soon as I got the hell out of here. I didn’t expect you to follow me into this shithole. But it’s good that we’re getting all this out in the open now.”

“You assumed I would marry you? Before we’ve even had a date? Without you even asking me?” She rinses the soap, flushes her mouth with water, then turns off the faucet and shakes her hands dry.

I lean against the doorway and watch her. It’s probably the wrong time to notice, but Kristi is adorable when she’s flustered. And she looks hot as fuck half naked. “If it will make you feel better, once we get out of here, I’ll take you out a few times, then ask you again.”

“No.”

Shrugging, I come closer. “You’re right. Why beat around the bush? I love you. I think you love me. That’s what your body says, anyway. Why don’t you marry me, Little Red? I’ll show you a good time…”

Her mouth purses tightly, but she’s fighting the urge to smile as she pushes past me and into the bedroom. “You already did, which is why I’m pregnant.”

“Another reason to get married.”

“Not in this day and age. We can share custody.”

“Nope. Ransom fathered a son as a teenager with his high school girlfriend. He and Lydia never got married. Probably better for Ethan, who lives with Ransom now, even though he recently turned eighteen. But my mother…”

Kristi catches on and winces. “Charlene was upset?”

“That’s one word for it. She hated Lydia, but she loves Ethan. She’s thrilled that Rand and Soph are having a baby so soon after their wedding. So all we have to do to make my mom really happy is get married and tell her we’re already expecting.”

She blinks at me like I’m certifiably insane. “I don’t even know what to say to that.”

Right . “I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me get us the fuck out of here. I’m going to have to take some chances and pull some strings, but…I think I have an idea.”

“Sammie—”

“She’s next on my list. Now, listen to me.

I keep a Glock in my suit coat pocket. I’m going to come in here and shut the door.

Pee, wash my hands, loiter long enough for you to rifle around and find it.

Hide it under your pillow—carefully. There’s no safety.

Act nervous for the camera. Then I’ll come out, get dressed, behave like a dismissive asshole, and leave.

While I’m gone, keep the gun hidden, but stay close to it.

The first person who comes through that door who isn’t me? Blow them away. Got it?”

I shut the bathroom door between us and take care of business, in no rush. Finally, I emerge, look Kristi up and down again because she really is fucking beautiful, and I have to thank Mother Nature for making her fertile at the right moment and the condom manufacturer for failing spectacularly.

The thought makes me smile as I shrug back into my dress shirt.

“Ridge, I don’t know how to use a gun.”

“Point in the general direction and pull the trigger a few times. You’re bound to hit someone. And bonus: that has an extended mag so you have more chances.”

Kristi shivers. Yeah, violence probably isn’t for her. That will certainly make our life together interesting.

“Don’t be afraid, Red.”

“Why can’t you just leave me my phone and let me call nine-one-one?” she asks.

As ideas go, it’s cute…if naive. “Do you really think something like this operates under law enforcement’s nose if they aren’t turning a blind eye to it?”

“They’re in on this?” She’s clearly horrified by that notion.

I hate to burst her bubble. “Absolutely, and they aren’t the only ones. I’ve been gathering evidence for a while now.”

And I shouldn’t say any more, in case Sal or Rudy decide to pay her a visit. If they do, I’ll kill them. Hell, I probably will anyway, but I don’t want them to torture her for anything she might know.

“Oh, my god.” Her voice trembles.

I finish with my dress shirt and lift my coat, which feels substantially lighter. At least she followed orders. “Try not to panic.”

“I wasn’t really scared until now. You’re really the only one keeping me and Sammie from sex slavery?”

“Yep. But I’ll get you two out, I promise.” I slide into my coat and shoes, caressing her with a tender voice—something I don’t dare do with my eyes. “We’ve got a wedding to plan and a baby to raise, so let me get to it.”

“I didn’t say I would marry you,” Kristi calls after me.

“You will.” I toss over my shoulder. “You know I have ways of persuading you. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

I fucking hate to leave Kristi here alone, but I’ve done what I can so she can protect herself. I’ve got to do the rest of the heavy lifting ASAP. The question is, how the fuck can I end Donzelli and his organization tonight? I didn’t exactly plan for this.

First things first, find Sammie. Then I’ll get to Paulie’s “command center.”

In the hall, I see that Jimmy and the rest of his crew have vacated the floor. In their place are the two guards I saw in the third-level basement. They have to be a lot happier up here, not sweltering in air that smells like laundry and unwashed bodies.

I saunter up with a cocky grin. “Gentlemen.”

They snap to attention. The big one on the right with gleaming skin and incredibly white teeth nods. “Sir?”

“Did Donzelli tell you boys who’s in charge now?”

“Yes. You’re responsible for this operation.”

“I am. And I’m looking for a specific…piece of merchandise.” I lean in with a whisper. “Antsy customer. She’s barely legal, five feet tall, pretty brunette? Came in last night.”

The puny one nods like he’s eager to be helpful. “832.”

“Key?” I hold out my hand.

The bigger one slaps a sharp bit of metal in my palm. “This is the universal. It will open any of the doors. Ingram and I are here until six a.m. After that?—”

“Got it.” If I need to know more then, I’ll find out. “I’m preparing to take 832 to the client. In the meantime, avoid 810.” I pull my shirt aside to show them a long, red scratch Kristi left on my shoulder in the heat of passion. “She needs to be taught some manners. Leave that to me.”

“Yes, sir,” they both say.

With a smile, I tip my head and make for Sammie’s room like I don’t have a care in the world.

Unfortunately, I’ve got a shitload of them.

I just have to figure out how to minimize and work around them.

The clock is ticking. It works to my advantage that Sal and Rudy will have pissed off somewhere for a while to sulk after I humiliated them.

Paulie isn’t a night owl. He’s probably gone home for the evening.

And Donzelli? I’m betting he found a “temporary companion” for the evening and retired to his room with her, poor girl.

Once around the corner and out of the not-so-dynamic duo’s eyesight, I sprint down the hall to the stairs, rushing all the way to the bottom floor.

Panting like a motherfucker, I trek near the kitchen, slipping into where the food and bar staff store everything.

Thankfully, I know the passcode, so when no one is looking, I sneak inside.

The boxes holding the bottles of booze are organized and marked.

I grab one of the priciest bottles of scotch.

Yeah, someone will notice it’s missing, but hopefully not until anyone who will give a shit is either dead or in jail.

Then I let myself out, hit up the small-time drug dealer who thinks he’s flying under Donzelli’s radar hanging out near the quarter slot machines, buy a few “relaxation” supplements, then slip them into the bottle with a smile.