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Raising the Soldier's Son(17)

By:Clare Connelly


He pretended fascination with a climbing vine on the porch. “Has there been anyone else for you?”

She crossed her arms defensively across her chest. “None of your damned business.”

“It’s most certainly my business,” he contradicted. “You’re the mother of my child. The woman I meant to marry. I want to know what the last five years have been like for you.”

“You don’t get to know, Kirk. It doesn’t work like that. You didn’t care enough to be a part of it then, you don’t get to be now.”

“What are you saying?” He reached out and grabbed her hand. She didn’t pull away. His touch was too essential to her needy body.

She swallowed, and swayed a little. “You’re Wade’s father. If you want to be in his life, I won’t come between you. I’m not selfish enough to want to keep you away from him just because I think you’re a lousy jackass.” He winced. “But the matter of you and me needs to be left where it belongs. In the past.”

He rubbed his thumb across the flesh on her inner-wrist, watching as her face suffused with pink. “You know that’s not true.”

Her eyes were pleading when they locked with his. He leaned forward, so that his mouth was only a whisker from hers. “You know that what we share is as real now as it was then.”

“You must think I’m an idiot,” she murmured, not moving away. “To still want you after the way you treated me.”

“I don’t think you’re an idiot.”

“Yeah? Well, I do.” She leaned forward, so that she could touch his lips. She sighed as he kissed her, wishing with all her heart that there was some magic way to undo the hurt and pain of the years long gone.

She kissed him, knowing it would be the last time she ever did. A goodbye kiss. She pulled away, and put enough distance between them to ensure she wouldn’t weaken.

“There is no ‘us’ anymore, Kirk. You made your choice, and I’m holding you to it.”

He frowned. His body had leaped at her sensual touch, ready and willing, wanting more of her, as always. “I didn’t know about Wade then.”

Anger flashed inside of her. “So you would have stayed with me if you’d known I was pregnant?”

He thought about all the reasons he’d used to justify his decision. The decision he’d made believing he was the only one who stood to get hurt. “Yes,” he announced confidently.

Her laugh held no humor. “That’s even worse. I loved you too much to end up your consolation prize.”

“God, that’s not what I meant.” He furrowed his brow. Pride kept him silent. The same argument he’d waged with himself for years reared its head now. She thought he was strong and powerful. If she knew otherwise, she would no longer look at him like that. She would see how damaged and weakened he was. “I would never have left you with the burden of raising our child. I would have helped.”

“Believe it or not, I’ve never thought of Wade as a burden. He’s a gift. More precious to me than all the grains of sand on the beach.”

He shook his head. He was making more of a mess of things. “I just meant I would have at least provided financial support.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I would never have taken your money, Wade.”

“Don’t be absurd. Child support is the very least I can do.”

Her face blanched. “No. The only thing we’ll take from you is time, if you want to give it.” She shook her head. “With Wade. Not me.”

He stared up at the ceiling. “Why d’you have to be so damned stubborn about everything, Annabeth?”

“I don’t want to owe you a cent, Kirk.”

“This isn’t a loan. It’s child support. Any court in the country would award it.”

“Yeah, well, I still don’t want it.” She held herself up straight and tall, her shoulders squared. “We don’t need money.”

He looked around the cheap but cheery kitchen. “I beg to differ.”

It was the last straw. Her anger was intense. So intense it was ice cold, rather than aflame. “Don’t you dare judge me, or my house. I’ve done the best I could, and it’s been enough. Wade has never done without.”

Kirk knew that she was speaking the truth. Even in his brief interaction, he could tell that the boy had been raised exceptionally well. But his brain wasn’t thinking properly. He seemed to have one objective in mind, and even he was surprised by the means he was willing to go to in order to achieve it. “You will take my money.”

“No, I won’t,” she retorted, leaning forward to see what Wade was doing. He’d moved on from the ants and was looking at leaves now, counting the spidery veins visible beneath the paper-thin surface.

“You will take my money, or else.”

“Or else?” She laughed, spinning around furiously to face him. “Or else what?”

He leaned forward, and ran a finger down her cheek. “Or else I’ll sue for custody. And d’you know what, Beth? I’ll win.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

He was thinking on his feet, and he knew it was an ‘all or nothing’ maneuver.

Beth collapsed into a kitchen chair and dropped her head into her hands. “You can’t.”

“He’s my son. I have every right.”

“I know.” She looked up at him, her face anguished. “I mean, please don’t.”

“Please? You’ve gone from calling me a jackass to begging me to ‘please’ don’t?”

She looked away, bitterness like metal in her mouth. “I still think you’re a jackass.”

He crouched down beside her. “And you have a point. So just take my money. Spend it. Make your life better.”

“My life is fine,” she said through gritted teeth. “I don’t need your money.” She saw he was about to counter with an argument of his own. “But if it makes you happy, we can compromise. I’ll set up an account for Wade. For college.”

“College will not be an issue. You do not need to squirrel money away for a rainy day. I’m here and I want to help. So just take the damned money.”

“No.” She reiterated. “A college fund is my final offer.”

“Then I guess I’ll see you in court.”

She watched his retreating back with a frown on her face. “What the hell? No, Kirk. Wait!” She ran across the room and grabbed his shoulder, tugging on him until he spun around to face her. “Don’t you dare walk out on me like this. We need to talk.”

His eyes focused on her mouth. “Beth,” he groaned. “I don’t want to hurt you. Again. I am trying to help. Can’t you be reasonable?”

“You’re blackmailing me,” she whispered, closing her eyes.

“I’m giving you money and letting you keep our son. That’s the opposite of blackmail.”

“You don’t get to ‘let’ me keep him. He’s mine,” she said fiercely. “Biology doesn’t give you the right to take him from me, anyways.”

“Perhaps not. But you’ve heard my name, right? You do know who you’re dealing with?”

Her hatred was almost matched by his own. “The all powerful Robinson family. Yes, I know.”

“Do you honestly think any judge in the county would refuse me custody?”

She searched his face, looking for a shred of the man she’d once loved. He had to be in there, somewhere. The Kirk Robinson she’d stayed up with all night, staring up at the stars from a field on the plantation. The Kirk Robinson she’d taken to her prom. The Kirk Robinson who had gone down on bended knee and promised to love and protect her, all his life.

“Fine,” she whispered, sickened by what she was doing. “I’ll take your money.”

He let out a breath of relief. “Good. I’m glad you’re finally being sensible.”

“But I want you to promise me something.”

“Oh?”

“I want you to promise that you won’t seek custody. Ever.” Her eyes were without emotion as she stared at him. “I know you’d win. You could drown me with expensive lawyers and political family members. I get it. But Wade loves me. He should be with me.”

“I agree,” he nodded, his eyes glinting in his handsome face. “And so long as you are reasonable, he’ll stay with you.”

Annabeth had a lurching sensation, like she was keeping afloat only by the good will of someone else, and she didn’t like it at all. “I hate you,” she whispered honestly. “I didn’t think it was possible, you know, for love like ours to ever fully die. But you’ve killed it.”

Good, he thought. He had wanted her to stop caring for him. He’d needed it. But the knowledge that she no longer loved him spread like poison in his veins.

He went to speak to Wade, but a small part of him slowly withered and died inside of him, as the afternoon went on.

That night, Kirk dreamed of Afghanistan. It was the first night in a long time that his subconscious had led him back there.

It was the pain that haunted him. The pain of being hurtled clear across the airport, shrapnel and flame embedded in his fragile human body, agony searing through every nerve ending. The knowledge haunted him, too. The knowledge that he’d been too late. The bomb was sophisticated, and the mechanism well hidden. He might have been the best bomb disposal guy in the area, but he had failed, and he’d lost three comrades and eleven civilians.