Most Eligible Baby Daddy(26)

       
           



       

Forrester did think about it. He was thinking that if any members of Los  Lobos had ever escaped Jackson's wrath, he'd have killed them himself.  His only regret was that he knew they were all already dead.

"Now, think about this. The only man Elle's ever been able to trust is  me. I'm the only thing she's known. We have a bit of a fight and she  falls into bed with you. That's understandable. I'm not going to hold  that against her."

"She's done with you, pal," Forrester said.

"Quit thinking about yourself, fucko. She thinks you've abandoned her.  She thinks you lied to her. She thinks you're no better than all of the  other men in the world who wanted to abuse her and hurt her."

"I haven't abandoned her. I'm in here."

"To her, it's all the same. You know what the right thing is, fucko. I'm  going to take my girl back, and bring her to the safety and security of  the life she's used to. You've broken her heart. Hopefully, that's all  the damage you'll do to her. I'm here to tell you, when you get out of  here, which won't be any time soon, you stay the fuck away from her. For  her sake, not mine. You do what's best for her, in the delicate state  she's in, and you let her be. Let her get on with her life. You've done  enough damage as it is."

As if to punctuate his argument, Gris closed with another powerful punch  into Forrester's broken ribs. Then he left the cell and waved at the  sheriff to lock it back down. Then he was gone.

And Forrester was left to think about what might be going on in Elle's  mind while he was trapped in there, powerless to do anything about it.





Chapter 29

Elle

ELLE WAITED AT THE DINER until long after everyone else had left. Kelly  and Grace wanted to stay with her, but she'd insisted they leave. They  were exhausted from the day's work and needed to get some sleep. Plus,  Kelly really had to get home to her kid brother and spend some time with  him. He was pretty independent for his age but he still needed his  sister. Elle couldn't bring herself to leave, though. She was certain  Forrester hadn't abandoned her, and she was going to stick around and  give him more time. Whatever had come up, she knew he had a reason for  not showing.

She sat at the counter and sipped coffee until long past midnight. Every  time a car drove by on the street she jumped to see if it was him. It  never was. At about two in the morning, she started to doze off. When  she realized she was falling asleep, she decided to call it a night.

She hadn't cried since her pity fest with Grace and Kelly, and even  though she was on the verge of tears now, she refused to cry again.

What did she have to cry about?

He was coming back for her. She knew he was.

She changed her shoes and put on the snow boots Kelly had lent her and  her coat. Then she opened the door and let the freezing air rush in  around her. It felt good. She stepped out into the parking lot. There  was a slight gust blowing. She turned and looked up the street. She  could see some headlights in the distance. She waited for the vehicle as  it approached.

Then she saw that it was a pickup truck. As it got closer, she felt her  heart begin to soar in relief and happiness, but at the last minute, it  turned at the intersection and she saw that it wasn't Forrester.

She shook her head but didn't cry. She thought about what she'd seen  earlier in the day. Forrester's truck had been right there, parked  outside, and then it was gone.

She looked at the spot where he'd been parked and something caught her  eye. It was difficult to see, white on white, stuck in the snow, but as  it rustled in the breeze she saw that it was a crumpled up piece of  paper. For some reason, she imagined Forrester had left it there. She  rushed over it it, half covered in snow, and clenched it in her hand  like a treasure.

It was wet and smudged, but she opened it carefully and could still make  out the words. She read it in the red-tinged light of the diner's  closed sign. She read every word, and then, when she was finished, read  it all again, as if it contained the secret answers to deep questions  she'd been searching for her entire life.
                       
       
           



       
*

Forrester Snow,

The very sound of your name still makes my stomach turn. You're scum,  boy. You're a no good, piece of shit, son of a bitch. You killed your  mother, you know.

People say you're not to blame. You didn't know what you were doing. You were just a baby.

I say, all that's fine. You were a baby. You didn't ask to be born. But  you still killed her, and for that I'll always hate you. You're no more  guiltless than the bullet that strikes its mark. The bullet doesn't know  what it's doing, but it kills its target all the same.

That's you, Forrester Snow. You killed your own mother, you killed my  wife, and I curse the day you were conceived. If I could go back and not  fuck your mother the day I made her pregnant, I'd do it. I'd erase your  very existence.

I was never the perfect husband, but I loved that woman more than I could ever love you.

You're worthless to me. You would have been worthless to her too, if  she'd survived your birth. No one could love you when you were born. The  truth is, I didn't want to raise you. I tried to give you up to the  county, I tried to get rid of you, but they wouldn't take you. No one  wanted you.

You were truly born alone, Forrester. You were born alone, and mark my  words, you will die alone. The words of a dying man must be worth  something. The curse of a dying man must be worth something.

So hear this, for this is my curse. No one will ever love you, you  little piece of shit. You will destroy anyone you ever try to love. You  will find no happiness, and you will give no happiness. If you ever  think you've found the girl who's won your heart, you run. You run away  from her as far and as fast as you can.

Because if you don't, you'll destroy her, just like you destroyed your own mother.

Curse you.

Abraham Snow.

*

It was then that she cried. She wasn't crying for herself, but for  Forrester, and for what the letter meant. She knew all too well what a  letter like that could do to a man's heart. Even someone with the best  of intentions might not be able to think or act correctly after  receiving something like that from a parent. She knew she wouldn't have  been able to bear it.

Was this the reason Forrester had run out?

If it was, she'd forgive him. She wouldn't forget him, she wouldn't ever  forget what they'd done together, but she wouldn't hate him. He'd done  what he had to do. If that meant heartbreak for her, so be it.

As the tears ran down her cheeks, she knew what had happened. Forrester was broken. He'd been broken by his own father.

Who could possibly commit to a girl, a girl he'd asked to bear him a son, after reading a letter like that from his own daddy?

He was gone. He was gone forever.

She walked down the street and she cried. She cried for Forrester, and  she cried because she was heartbroken, and the worst part was, there was  nothing she could do. She couldn't even tell Forrester that she forgave  him, and that she still loved him, and that he didn't have to fall for  the cruel games of his dead father.





Chapter 30

Elle

ELLE WENT TO BED QUIETLY that night. She tried not to cry but she could  feel the tears as they soaked into her pillow. She lay there motionless,  almost like someone dead, and then suddenly she punched her fist into  the mattress.

"Damn it," she cried.

She was mad, and she wasn't even sure what she was mad about. Was she  mad at Forrester for disappearing? Was she mad at herself for allowing  herself to fall for him?

No. She was mad at life. She was mad at the world. She was mad at God.

Why was she cursed to always spend her life alone? Why was it that no  matter what she did, no matter how hard she tried, nothing ever worked  out. She'd thought she'd found love with Gris. She'd told herself that  if she just kept loving him, if she just kept treating him better than  he treated her, that God would take care of the rest. God would bring  her love. God would look after her.

But that hadn't happened. Not with Gris, and not when she was a child.

She punched the mattress again. Who was she to hope for any better? Her  own mother had sold her into slavery. Most people wouldn't even believe  that sort of thing was possible. She'd actually gone through it.                       
       
           



       

If it wasn't for the strange string of murders that wiped out the entire  Los Lobos gang when she was a little girl, she'd be in some dingy  whorehouse right now, forced to pleasure men for money.

She'd always thought that God had saved her from the hell of the Los  Lobos gang. Out of nowhere, the gang had been wiped out, and the gang  members didn't even know who was doing it. It felt like divine  intervention.