Page 66 of His Remorseful King
“Da,” the baby says again, but his hands reach out for Michael. He makes a fist with his hand, then opens it. “Da.”
“He wants Daddy!” Griffin cheers in victory.
Handing him over, I press a kiss to Owens cheek, then to Griffin’s. “I’ll see you in a few.”
He nods, and we all walk out of the bedroom. Griff heads for the living room while I go to the main bedroom. When I shut the door, it’s silent, and I miss my boys already. The house hasn’t been quiet since the day Callum brought Camille here to give birth.
Now, whenever I sat in silence, it felt too eerie–too alone. And I didn’t like being alone anymore. Not when I had my husband and son waiting for me to be with them. I hurry to the bathroom to shower so I can get back to them as quickly as possible.
Scrubbing my body takes half the time it should, and I skip conditioning my hair, only washing it with shampoo. I don’t even bother with towel drying it, settling for a quick finger comb before hurrying to put on sweats and a t-shirt.
When I make it back down the hall, there’s whispering coming clear from the living room. The second voice is also a male’s and I wonder who it could be. I don’t have to guess for long, because Declan comes into view first, his fast twisted with stress.
My stomach drops, and my throat dries. Something is wrong. He turns, making eye contact with me, and the sad look on his face, the way he looks like he wants to pity me, is like a punch to the gut.
“Paddy. I’m sorry,” Declan says, taking slow steps toward me. “The paramedics did everything they could, but it was too late. Camille passed away.
The blood rushes from my face, and I’m not sure exactly what I’m supposed to feel in this moment. Is it supposed to be sadness for my son? Relief that I don’t have to look at her anymore? Happiness that I won’t ever after to have the sense of dread on the days I know she’s coming to visit?
I’m not sure, but whatever it is, it’s a lightness in my chest. Followed immediately by guilt. My baby is about to have one less parent. This is exactly what I didn’t want to happen. The doubt sinks in, and curiosity has me asking the question we’re all wanting to have the answer to.
“Was it Callum?”
Declan shakes his head. “She insisted on driving herself tonight. Rian was running late because he was taking Haley to the clinic for an emergency appointment. She didn’t want to wait any longer, even though Rian called to tell her he was on his way. She slipped on a patch of ice, Paddy. It was an accident.”
“You–you said they tried to save her?” My fists clench. I don’t believe this story. It reeks of a cover up.
Declan nods. “She was still breathing when first responders arrived. They did CPR until they arrived at the hospital. All efforts were exhausted until the head doctor at the hospital called it.”
My teeth grind. “So why are you notifying me and not a police officer?”
“The patrol unit called me because he ran the tag and knew it was a vehicle registered to us. He did the right thing. I’m their point of contact, Paddy.” He reaches out, pulling me into a hug. “I promise you, this wasn’t Callum. He’d never do anything to upset any of us. Family first. Always.”
I want to believe Declan. There’s no way I’d forgive Callum if he were behind this. A part of me knows that Cal wouldn’t risk our relationship. Especially because he made sure to kill her father in replace of Camille months ago. But that doubt is there, too.
Owen cries, and I pull from Declan’s embrace. Hurrying to him, I pull him from the bounce chair he’s strapped in. He immediately calms, his head nuzzling into my neck and that sweet baby scent hitting me hard. My chest cracks right open.
What if he’d been in the car with her? What if I’d been senile enough to actually allow her to start having unsupervised visits and she was headed here to drop him off to me?
Those horrible thoughts lead to a rattling inside me, and I squeeze him to my chest tighter.
“And we’re sure it was her? That this isn’t some type of faking her own death situation? Because I really cannot deal with her coming back in a few months and trying to steal our baby.” Griffin asks.
I try not to laugh at that ridiculous statement, because itcouldpotentially happen with this crazy ass life that we live.
Declan’s gaze remains on me. “You’ll have to go to the morgue to identify her. It seems legit, though.”
The air I breathe in burns my lungs. I shake my head, still not knowing if I should believe we’d be so lucky that Camille would die in a genuine accident, and not a cover up. “She’s dead,” I say, forcing myself to believe it.
“She’s gone, Paddy,” Declan says. “It’s over.”
Griffin wraps me in his arm, the three of us huddled together, and he presses a kiss to my temple. The action fills my heart with an overwhelming sense of love and adoration for this man. In the past year we’ve been through too much. And here we are, standing together with our son sandwiched between us.
This is what was meant to be all along. Just the three of us. And maybe one day, I’ll tell our son about the woman who gave birth to him. But for now, he only needs to know he has two fathers.
Epilogue
Saoirse