“Fuck.”
I plant a kiss on her damp chest as euphoria washes over me. My leg shudder and another wave of cum bursts from my cock.
“Luc.”
Claire makes a painful face, and I reach up, unbuckling the cuffs from her wrists. Her weight drops into my arms. She slides her hands around me, and I feel incredible. Every problem I had fades like a distant memory. It’s just her. The smell of her, the heat of her body, the way she takes shuddering breaths. Her grip tightens around my neck, squeezing me so hard it’s as though she wants to choke me.
“Baby, easy.”
She takes a high-pitched breath and suddenly lets it go in a long cry.
My hands almost slip. What the hell happened? Did I hurt her?
“What’s wrong?”
Heart-wrenching sobs tear from her throat as she collapses against my chest, and I feel the tears as if they’re burning holes through my skin. I carry her to the bed and sit down with her in my lap, raising a trembling hand to her hair.
“I—I didn’t want to send you to jail.”
My insides turn into ice. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
But her head lifts, and her tearstained face is like a knife to my chest.
“Luc, I didn’t tell you about the pregnancy because I found out the day they arrested me.”
“Arrested?”
My blood runs cold as she places a palm on my chest and traces one of the scars. “They said I would go to jail unless I testified against you. I didn’t know what to do. If I went to jail, they would have taken Étienne from me. I would’ve never seen my baby boy again. So I t-told them I’d do it.”
The weight of what she says slams into my back and the shock reverberates through me like a gong. Tears slip down her face, and my chest caves in with her pain. I can’t stand it.
They probably gave her the same sentence as they gave me. That’s why she did it. Not because she was petty. Not because she hated me. It was for our son. She loved me every bit as much as I loved her.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I can barely get the words out.
“It was easier to leave if you hated me.”
I can’t believe I am hearing this. “What—what happened between then and now?”
She shoves me aside, and her voice cracks with rage. “What happened? You happened. You ruined my life. I had to leave all my friends. I had no choice, because your mobster friends would have killed me—”
“You knew the risks, Claire.”
“I never wanted to work for you. I did it because you wanted me to do it so badly and I loved you so much.”
I don’t know what to say to her. “Claire—”
“Then I had to go through everything alone because you were in jail.” She pauses, wiping her eyes. “I loved the man you were. I’m not in love with the man you are now, and I don’t think I’ll ever be.”
I touch her face as a wave of devastation crashes through me. “I’m sorry.”
She keeps crying, and I hold her against my chest as the anguish crashes through me again and again.
CLAIRE
No chains.
I flex, testing my bonds as I wait for the inevitable clink of the chain, but there’s nothing but the sound of my fingers gliding through the sheets. The space beside me is empty.
Now’s my chance.
I sit bolt upright, blinking as blackness rushes into my vision. My ears strain for any sound in the house, but I can’t hear a damn thing except for a distant murmuring.
Étienne.
I throw back the sheets and nearly twist my feet in them as I attempt to get out. My soles hit the cold floor and I sprint out of the bedroom, heading toward my baby.
A deep male voice stops me in my tracks. “I’m here, baby boy.”
I peer around the corner and see my son nestled comfortably in Luc’s arms, who sits in the rocking chair. He dangles a toy in front of my baby, and Étienne laughs, a toothless grin on his tiny face. My heart clenches when Luc smiles back, his handsome face full of joy. Then he bends over and gives him a small kiss on his forehead. Luc looks lost in the moment, staring at his son with so much perfect love that a stab of shame hits me again.
Suddenly the baby’s face crumples and he starts to shake with wailing sobs. Luc’s face falls into an expression I know well: panic.
“What’s wrong?” he asks the baby.
I step into the room and Luc’s head perks up immediately, his eyes softening the moment they land on me.
Goddamn it, he’s going to apologize again.
I don’t give him a chance. I walk to his chair and stoop down, scooping my son from his arms. Luc hands him over with a sigh and I cradle Étienne to my breast.
He’s tired. He never liked the rocking chair, for some reason. I always had to put him to sleep as I walked around.