Rage

  “What’s this?” he asked, taking the piece of paper from her.

  “It’s how much you owe me in back child support.”

  He stared at it for a moment without saying anything. Her lawyers had drawn up the paperwork weeks ago, based on Fred’s very lucrative income for the past seven years.

  “That doesn’t even include what you’ve made in endorsements, but my lawyers said they’d go after it all.”

  Of course, they were urging her to file for an injunction to start freezing his assets so she could begin to collect everything he owed her. Even their percentage of the settlement would be a fat amount. Addison had known it’d likely be a lot, but she wasn’t expecting that many millions.

  “Addison, I—”

  “I don’t want any of it,” she said, stunning him quiet. “Not a dime. I won’t file the injunction like my lawyers are begging me to and another for you to continue to pay until she’s eighteen. All I want is Clair’s freedom and my peace of mind. Sign off on any rights to her so that I don’t have to look over my shoulder anymore. And I want a promise in writing that you’ll never reveal your identity to anyone—”

  “I can’t just sign—”

  “If you don’t, not only will I go after you for every penny you owe us, I will expose you to the world. What a deadbeat heartless asshole you really are. What a lying piece of shit you’ve been and how you kept this secret love child from your wife your entire marriage. How you’ve now been harassing and using that innocent little girl—one you wanted aborted—to get what you want from me.”

  Fred stared at her, still looking every bit as stunned as Addison had expected him to be, and she held her breath. Her heart was going a mile a minute. This was it. She knew this could totally backfire on her if he wanted to get nasty about this. She’d do what she had to, but Addison had always known the two things that mattered most to Fred were his money and his image. It’s why she was banking on him agreeing to this. Maybe not immediately because she expected him to be a stubborn ass and not lie down so easily, but she was fairly certain, once he thought it out and spoke with his lawyers, who would tell him, yes, he’d have no choice but to sign off or pay up, he’d have to give in.

  She’d been hopeful she could hold off a bit until things calmed and he’d likely be more conforming, but after her conversation with AJ tonight, this had to be done now.

  “You can’t really expect me to agree to any of this without my lawyers looking over it all.”

  “You have a week,” she said, starting back to where her driver was waiting.

  The knot at her throat suddenly was a strange one. It was part fear that he might not agree and she’d have no choice but to go the ugly route, and partly an enormous relief that it hadn’t been a flat out no. The more Addison thought about it as she neared the car and Fred hadn’t so much as tried to stop her or insist that they talk some more, the more relief she felt, and the knot grew even bigger. He stood to lose so much if he didn’t just give up something he’d never wanted to begin with.

  “Oh my God.” She gasped, crying into her hands the moment the driver closed the door to the car. “Could this nightmare finally be over?”

  Just as her crying turned into a crazed mixture of crying and laughing as she wiped happily away at her tears, her phone beeped. She was almost afraid to see who it was from. When she saw it was from her dad, she clicked on it immediately, terrified that something was wrong with Clair. He rarely texted her.

  Where are you? AJ was just here at the hotel room, looking for you.

  Addison hit the call button, and her father answered on the second ring. “What did you tell him?” she asked, the moment he answered.

  “Your mother slipped,” he said, his voice soft—rueful. “She feels terrible, honey. She was the one who answered the door. When she didn’t see you with him, she asked him where you were. He was, of course, taken aback at first then said you weren’t with him. That he was here to talk to you. It’s when I walked into the room. He asked me if I knew where you were, but I couldn’t come up with anything fast enough, so I began to explain to him why you’d gone to meet with Winfred, but he didn’t even let me finish. He said he had a plane to catch and was in a hurry.”

  Sure enough, AJ didn’t answer or return any of her messages. Not that day. Not the next. Not the morning of game four of the playoffs in San Diego. It almost felt like déjà vu, only the pain was so much more profound this time. She refused to play her last ace, not for this. She needed to know that someone who could profess such a profound love—not just for her but for innocent Clair, who was in no way to blame for any of this mess—wouldn’t really be able to turn his back on them so easily as he was doing now.

  Yes, she understood he was angry, hurt. He felt betrayed. But he had to understand why she had to do what she did. She’d warned him from the beginning she’d stop at nothing to protect Clair. What she needed now was to know with all certainty whether there was even the slightest chance of things still working out for them. That no matter what, nothing short of her willfully betraying him would be the only reason he'd cut them off again the next time he was so insanely angry.

  At the moment, she couldn’t think of anything she might ever do from here on that would make him this angry ever again, but she still needed to be certain. Ironically, what she loved so much about AJ—his intense passion when it came to everything—made her nervous now. This was a different side of his passion he was showing her: the finality with which he so easily had dismissed not just her but Clair because he wasn’t responding to any of Clair’s texts either.

  So her final ace would just have to remain in her pocket, no longer a device she’d use to get him to listen to her. That wasn’t what she wanted it to be, not anymore, not after he so coldly shut both her and Clair out. It was one thing to be angry and hostile to Addison because he really felt he had reason to be. As much as Addison was trying to be understanding, as much as it hurt to think she just might have to cut all ties if it meant protecting Clair’s heart, she’d just have to do it. She’d never stop protecting Clair.

  No matter what.

  Chapter 29

  AJ

  Bereft.

  Despite a house full of family and friends, it was all AJ felt that morning. While everyone was there—anxious, excited, and full of hope about that evening’s game—all AJ felt was emptiness. His siblings, cousins, uncles, and friends gathered in and around the large kitchen, music playing as they happily prepared a feast for brunch. The Padres were heavily favored to win tonight and take the division championship title.

  His home was loud and full of laughter. The Romeros were not quiet people. Get a whole bunch of them together and add a few SUVs full of Morenos, and you had an all-out party. It should have been a happy time. His uncles and his cousin Moe were at it as usual as Moe showed off his cooking skills and Manny and Max tried to intervene.

  “Out of my way,” Moe said, shoving Max away from the stove with his hip. “You don’t know about this, right, Izzy?” He turned to look at his wife sitting at the large kitchen island with the other girls. “This is my specialty south-of-the-border breakfast casserole. I throw everything in there: sausage, chorizo, onions, peppers—” He stopped to slap Manny’s hand away. “Get out of there!”

  “You didn’t add enough salt!”

  “What’re you talking about? I probably put too much, especially for your ass! You’re not supposed to be eating any of this.” Moe turned to Manny’s wife. “Hey, Aida, get this old man some oatmeal and a grapefruit or something.”

  “I think that’s enough food, honey,” Izzy said, glancing around the huge center island covered from one end to the other with trays and bowls full of food.

  “Yeah, no shit,” Nathan said, picking at one of the large trays of chilaquiles Sal’s wife Grace had brought. “I know there’s a lot of us, but even we’re not gonna finish all this.”

  “And remember,” Emi said, trying to slip past her husband, who pu
lled her to him. “There’s still all the pastries and desserts on the dining-room table.”

  Emi kissed her husband, who to AJ’s annoyance slid his hand down and squeezed her ass. “Hey!” he said, beyond exasperated, pointing his open hand at him.

  Sydney smirked and Emi laughed when she turned to see what AJ was protesting about. “My bad,” Sydney said, kissing Emi one last time on the temple. “Habit. I forgot where I was for a moment there.”

  AJ frowned, shaking his head as Emi walked toward him. “For someone who’s about to win the division championship, you’re in a mood.” She pulled a carafe of orange juice out of the fridge then turned to him, lifting a brow. “I thought things between you and Addison were getting better?”

  “Nope,” he said, glancing away because he knew there was no way Emi or anyone knew that brawl in the last game had anything to do with Addison. “It’s really over now.”

  “Really?” She put down the carafe on the counter.

  AJ was surprised by how genuinely disappointed his sister appeared to be by the news. He’d begun to think Emi didn’t like Addison a whole lot. Not after hearing him tell her about what happened at the hospital that horrid day when his heart had been so heavy. Not that his heart hadn’t been feeling the same for the last few days. Only the rage helped now. Thoughts of Addison continuing to stay in touch with the guy, running to him every time he asked her to, for the sake of protecting Clair . . .

  There were other ways for her to protect Clair, without having to deal with him directly. He’d pointed a few of those ways out the day he’d been so infuriated with her—with Bigsby—with the fucking world. And what did she do? Not only did she take his call, she went running to him again the very night she’d frantically searched for her precious seven-year-old, who’d gone wandering around a hotel by herself because of him. The same night AJ had lost his shit and wanted to kill the motherfucker.

  The coffee mug slammed so hard against the kitchen counter it smashed loudly and shattered into pieces. Except for the music still playing, the room was silenced and all eyes were on him.

  “Oops,” he muttered, grabbing a towel, and began cleaning up the mess.

  Emi helped pick up the pieces from the floor. “I got it, Em.”

  Ignoring him, Emi continued to pick up pieces of his mug from the floor as the conversation in the room resumed. “You okay, little brother?” Liv rubbed his back with one hand and her belly with the other.

  “I’m fine,” he said, even as he gritted his teeth.

  He was actually, if he stayed angry, that is. As much as he didn’t want to think about the possibility that there was more to Addison’s refusal to cut things off completely with that asshole—more to him having a tattoo of the daughter he’d never wanted—the inevitable vehemence the thoughts brought on helped numb the pain. His fury won out every time and he knew it always would. He was counting on it because the temptation to answer her calls was too much. Each time he almost did, he’d think about what excuse she’d have for him now. Why she had to stay in touch with her ex.

  AJ had been right on the nose way back. Back when Lorenzo had told him about having to deal with his ex-fiancée remaining amicable with her ex for the sake of her kid. AJ knew it then way back before things were even that serious between him and Addison—before he’d fallen so hopelessly in love with her and Clair—that he’d never be able to deal with it. And he’d been absolutely right.

  Once he assured Liv he was fine and managed to turn it back on her, asking how she was doing since she looked ready to pop any day now, Liv waddled away, satisfied with his response. Then he turned to his other sister, who was still peering at him suspiciously.

  “What happened?” she asked, crossing her arms.

  Only because the others were far enough away and too engrossed in their conversations to hear them, he decided to let her in on it. Well, that and because he knew his obstinate little sister well enough to know she wasn’t going to just let this go. So he’d tell her. Sort of.

  “Clair’s dad is back in their lives.” He shook his head. “I ain’t dealing with that shit.”

  Emi’s eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean back in their lives? Like she’s seeing him again?”

  AJ shrugged; the thought absolutely killed him. “Could be. I don’t know. She claimed she’s hated him for the longest time, but suddenly she’s meeting up with him and talking to him on the phone and giving into every fucking request he makes to see her.”

  When AJ noticed his raised voice had gotten Sydney’s attention, he walked out of the kitchen and into the dining room. As expected, Emi followed him into the dining room. The table in there was packed with a ridiculous amount of pastries, cakes, and every other dessert imaginable. AJ grabbed a croissant, even though he hadn’t had much of an appetite in days.

  “So you don’t know for sure that she’s actually seeing him again. Just meeting with him and talking to him on the phone?”

  “He’s still in love with her, Em.” He tore a piece of the croissant off, a little harder than he’d intended to. “She admitted he’d told her he was, just recently. He left his wife and wants to move out to California to be near them, and she keeps making excuses for why she has to keep seeing him. I’m done. I’ve already talked to Preston. I haven’t extended my contract with the Padres, and I’m not going to—”

  “You’re leaving the Padres?” she asked, her eyes going wide. “AJ, we’ll never see you.”

  “Sure you will when I’m in town to play against them.”

  “But you love the Padres.”

  “I know, but I have to, Em. I can’t stay with them. I’m already dreading seeing her or Clair tonight—dreading having to be around them for the entire World Series. I almost wish we’d lose this series just so I wouldn’t have to worry about that. There’s no way I can do even one more season here.”

  The buzzer from the driveway gate went off. With some of the Morenos still expected to arrive, AJ didn’t bother asking who it was. He walked over and pushed the open button.

  “But you don’t know for sure—”

  “I know me,” AJ said, shaking his head. “It’ll never work. I won’t even be able to stand knowing she’s talking to him on the phone. And she’ll insist she has to. So we’re at a stalemate. I’m fucking out.”

  “You won’t even try—?”

  “Nope,” he said, shaking his head even more adamantly. “C’mon, Em, do you really think I’d ever have the patience for that? To know my girl is chatting on the phone with her ex who’s still in love with her? She already said that, if he insists on spending time with Clair, she won’t leave Clair alone with him. So they’ll be spending happy little family days at beaches and the zoo and shit. Fuck that!”

  He slammed the croissant in the waste basket just as the doorbell rang.

  “I’ll get it,” Emi said, exhaling in frustration.

  The fury was back in full force again, and he welcomed it because the pain of losing what he’d begun to consider his family, damn it, was brutal.

  “AJ,” Emi said, and he turned around to face her.

  Addison stood there behind Emi, almost as if waiting for the go-ahead to walk all the way in. They both stared at him. Emi’s face pleaded. Addison’s appeared . . . angry?

  What the hell could she be angry about? Emi turned and nodded at Addison then turned back to AJ, giving him that same pleading expression before rushing back into the kitchen and leaving them alone.

  “Why are you here?” he asked, beyond grateful he’d worked himself up because she looked even more beautiful than he remembered. As worked up as he felt, the temptation to rush to her and pull her into his arms was still there.

  “I need to speak with you, and you’re not answering my calls.”

  He needed to crush that ever-growing temptation. So he thought of the night he’d gone to her hotel room to give her one last chance to explain why the hell she had to take Bigsby’s call in the middle of such a pivotal convers
ation between them. He remembered the unrelenting rage he’d felt the moment he realized where she was and with who.

  “There’s a reason why I’m not answering, Addison. I don’t wanna speak with you.”

  She stared at him for a moment before spinning around toward the open door. For an unbearable moment, he fought the urge to call out to her. Tell her to stay. But she didn’t walk out. Instead, she pushed the door closed with such force it slammed loudly, and she spun around to face him again.

  Her eyes glistened, but if those were tears, they weren’t tears of sorrow because she looked as pissed as he felt. “Like it or not, you’re gonna hear what I have to say.”

  Chapter 30

  Addison

  The whole way there Addison had argued with herself. She was doing the wrong thing. AJ was making it perfectly clear that he was through with her, but she couldn’t believe he’d be such a hard ass about this. In a way, this was good. She now knew the kind of person she was dealing with. As much as he claimed to love her and Clair, he’d been willing to throw it all away and not even hear her out.

  Here she’d been crying in the shower and taking long drives to hide her heartache from Clair, and he was having a happy little party? And on top of it all, he was going to be a coldhearted asshole about this too? She couldn’t have misjudged him this badly, could she? This wasn’t happening to her all over again. It couldn’t be.

  “How dare you?” she began, trying desperately not to give into the inescapable emotion she’d been dealing with for days. “How dare you not give me at least a chance to explain—!”

  “Explain what?” He shot back, that all-too-familiar spark in his eyes igniting instantly. “What is it you want me to hear you explain, Addison? That the night I found out that piece of shit was Clair’s dad and needed answers, you had to cut my call off to take his? That instead of coming to see me that night so we could talk about this, you went running to him?”