Pulled(27)
Author: A.L. Jackson

I wept on the floor on my hands and knees. Dad’s arms remained around my waist as he knelt with me, the sound of Mom’s torment stinging my ears.

Eva.

My baby girl.

Gone.

Chapter 10

God, it hurt so bad.

Worst was that Melanie had to sit there while Vanessa bragged about how we were going to be parents.

Never had I wanted to hold her more, to tel her what a great mother she would have been, to tel her she was the only mother I wanted for my child, and to tel her that what had happened with Vanessa was a mistake.

A second later Melanie’s chair protested against the floor, the legs squeaking as she mumbled, “I need to use the restroom,” to Nicholas before she fled, tripping over her feet.

I watched her rush away. With ardent desire, all of me ached for her—her mind, her soul, and her body.

Something close to a growl came from Nicholas, my rapt attention on Melanie broken by his anger. “Who the f**k do you think you are?” He leaned in close, his voice low.

I turned to him, wishing for nothing more than to tel him who I was.

That I was supposed to be Melanie’s husband, not him.

That I adored her more than any other creature that had ever lived and always would.

That I had every intention of taking her away from him.

But I couldn’t do that. I knew Melanie still loved me. What I didn’t know was whether she still wanted me.

Besides, based on the way he acted toward her all night, it was apparent that it would not be in Melanie’s favor to anger this ass**le. If he treated her like this in public, I couldn’t imagine how he must treat her in private.

Once again, my fury toward him set in. What if he hurt her? My stomach clenched, and my hands curled into fists, every piece of me wanting to protect my girl. I wanted to hide her away. I wanted to keep her safe from him. I wanted to see life in her eyes once again. But that had to be Melanie’s choice, not mine.

I swal owed down the need to beat the shit out of the guy. I forced words out, making them as true a statement as I could. “She just reminds me of somebody I used to know.” That was about as civil as he was going to get from me.

“So, Daniel.” Shane’s voice was clear, though you could hear the tension in it. “What do you think? Do you have anymore questions about the proposal, or are you ready to get this thing started?”

I ran my hands through my hair, trying to focus. Did I want them to build it? Could I be this close to Melanie’s husband and not go completely insane? Would it all ow me see Melanie again?

see Melanie again?

Katie watched me knowingly. I was sure she could read every question I’d just asked myself as if it were written across my forehead.

“Uh, it’s a lot to take in, Shane. Just give me a minute. I need to clear my head before I can decide.” I stood, and Shane nodded at me.

Hands that I never wanted to feel again grabbed my arm, Vanessa’s voice whiney. “Where are you going?” I shook her arm off. “To the men’s room. Is that okay with you?” My voice was hard and condescending. I didn’t give a shit. There was no way I was going to let her have any control over me—ever.

The look on her face told me she was offended, which I hoped she was. Maybe then, she’d accept I would never want her or her baby. I turned on my heel and as I walked away, everything clicked.

“Daniel and I are having a baby.”

She’d done it on purpose. Vanessa wasn’t trying to further her career, to find an easy way to get ahead. She had wanted it alll. The name, the money—everything. I knew then that there was no question about whether the baby was mine or not. Thoughts of her in my drunken stupor, assuring me she was on the pil when I had insisted we needed to use something, distracting me, spurring me on. I was always careful, always—that is, except for that one time with her.

I had every intention of going to the men’s room, but as I neared it, the pul intensified, drawing me to her. I tried to push open the door to the men’s restroom, but I just couldn’t do it. I could feel her heart beating against my chest, her body begging mine to find it. I dropped my hand and stepped back, looking between the two doors. She was only feet from me; I could walk right in there and ask her everything.

My steps were slow as I approached the women’s restroom, my breaths shal ow and hard. Setting both hands flat against the door, I prayed she’d let me talk to her.

If I could just tel Melanie that I was sorry one more time, would she finally forgive me? I could never take back what I did, but did she love me enough to see past it and all ow me to love her and adore her the way she should be?

Would she let me take care of her, all ow me to try to breathe life back into her? Was I being selfish because I knew if she all owed me that, I’d become whole myself?

That if she all owed me to touch her, my heart would beat again?

God, I wanted to touch her.

That thought alone gave me the courage to push the door open. I froze when I heard her cries coming from a closed stal , the sound nearly bringing me to my knees. I had never heard so much pain coming from one person. It made it so much worse that it was coming from the one person who meant everything to me. I wanted to comfort her, but I knew my presence was what had caused it alll. I retreated to give her privacy, though I couldn’t go far.

I just waited. I’d been waiting for her to return to me for nine years. I could be patient.

I heard the faucet run and knew she’d be coming out soon. I braced myself to face her. What would she say to me? What would I say to her?

I didn’t have time to contemplate it before the door swung open, her sweet scent fil ing the air. My heart leapt at the sight of her. Her brown hair was a disaster, her face blotchy and red, green eyes glistening from her tears.

My beautiful, broken girl.

None of the times that I’d imagined being near her again could have prepared me for this. Our connection was stronger than it had ever been. In that moment, just the two of us existed. The air crackled with our need. I could hear her heart speed up in her chest and her breathing become erratic, and I felt her fingers twitch toward me.

She wanted me.

I had to touch.

Slowly, I brought my hand to her face, and I swore I could actually see the electricity travel between us. I traced my fingertips across her cheekbones, unsure of how much contact I could take.

“Melanie.” Everything I felt about her came out in that one word, my voice cracking as the emotions tumbled from my mouth.

“Why?” My voice was a whisper.