Phantom's Baby: A Mafia Secret Baby Romance (Mob City Book 3) (7 page)

No, what shook me to my core was what was daubed onto the photo – a red cross in a red circle – a sniper's crosshairs written in blood. And Cara's face in his sights.

Terror threatened to overtake me, a choking, rising tide of fear that grasped at my esophagus and tore at every inch of my thoat. Whatever happened, I had to keep her safe. She was my responsibility now. I dragged her into this mess by failing to stay in control, and now she was a target – one my father would never be able to resist.

Stay calm
.

I expelled every last milliliter of air from my lungs, until my body screamed for oxygen. It was the quickest way I knew to get myself back into my trance state, to clear my mind so that my decisions weren't guided by anger, or fear.

That was what my father, Arkady Antonov, wanted. Following the path he wanted was the quickest way to end up with a bullet in my head. My lungs screamed. My mind cleared.

"He knows."

Dimitri tipped his head forward once. "He does. I guess he knew the second we went for his men…"

His implication was clear. What he didn't say was as important as what he did –
and failed
. He wasn't blaming me, and
was
, all at once. The truth was, I'd put my own hand up and accepted every ounce of blame going around. Cara's appearance had thrown me for six.

Gunshot be damned, if it had been anyone else, I had no doubt that my father's men would be lying in shallow graves by now, or else cold and hard in a city morgue fridge. But now it was Cara's life on the line, her body that might end up chilled and rigid, and I needed a plan.

My brain worked at a thousand miles per hour, thoughts traveling down pathways clear of all emotion, stress and fear. It was my gift. It was my curse.

And then I had it – the way I'd keep Cara safe. I’d found the kernel of an idea, at least – a spark, a seed, but one that needed a fertile soil in which to grow. "Dimitri, say what you said about my father again."

"Arkady? He's old school. A hard bastard and the shit he does to women?" He shook his head. "He’s disgusting."

An icy chill sped through my veins. "No. What you said about family."

"Boss, you don't need to worry about my family. I told you, he won't hurt them."

And there it was: the way I could save Cara's life.

The only problem: I had to marry her.

I
came crashing back
to earth at a million miles an hour, hitting with the kind of impact that makes a crater a mile wide. Val had ripped my life apart with the same easy power as the asteroid that killed the dinosaurs – in the blink of an eye so fantastically imposing he blocks out the sun, the next he’s nowhere to be found.

I'd be lying if I said I had my life together before he turned back up, but now, everything had changed. I was sore in body, exhaustedly tired, totally used – and completely satisfied. My mind was everything but the last.

I watched as my hand trembled before reaching out to lift up the frayed length of old rope that held the gate closed at Angie's small cottage. I shut my eyes tight, blinking back a hot, angry tear.

An hour ago, I'd finished up a hundred dollar breakfast: juice made from oranges flown in from Spain; freshly-baked toast; and slices of richly-cured bacon almost as thick as my thumb. But I'd eaten alone, cheated of his attention. I'd tried to savor the meal anyway, but without him by my side it tasted like ash.

Now, I was home.

Well,
someone's
home, anyway, because it wasn't really mine. Lexie's little one-story cottage was more of a home for me than any I'd ever had. I'd babysat here, so she and her husband could have an evening's fun. Maisie and Poppy sometimes seemed as much my kids as hers. I'd wept here, after Val left, and laughed in front of silly movies, too. I'd slept here; bathed here; cooked, cleaned and played here.

But it wasn't home. It was a refuge.

Every time I came here, that's how I saw it; because, more often than not, I was here to seek solace in Lexie's healing embrace. Or else I'd fled here with Kitty by my side to escape another one of my father's drunken rages. Outside, I had to hold it together, for my daughter's sake.

But inside ...

… inside I was broken, spent, chewed up and spit out by the constant battle to hide from the barrel of Russell's unruly temper; by the endless exhaustion of having to stay one step ahead; by the continuous stress of having to cater to his ever-changing demands; and when that failed – as it always did – by throwing myself into the line of fire to protect my daughter. In the end, I was the one who bore the brunt of his rage. As it should be; I was the mother.

But mothers aren't invincible. We're people, too. We cry when we're hurt; we bleed when we're cut. We just have to hold it together more than the rest, because the world doesn’t let us take the easy route.

So, when I saw Lexie's small cottage, I didn't see the happiness inside. I saw the broken gate, and the flaking paint. I saw the weeds growing either side of the concrete sidewalk that led to the porch, and the broken window pane to the left of the front door, patched up with cardboard and duct tape.

I saw it ever more clearly now. Now that I'd tasted the riches that the world had to offer, I only saw what was damaged and I hated myself for it.

"You asshole," I muttered under my breath, squeezing the fraying rope in my hand so tight the torn fibers rubbed like sandpaper against my skin. I pulled against it, tearing the fibers against my fragile skin, drinking in the pain as I lost myself, Val’s intoxicating face seared behind my eyelids.

"You did it again. You found me, made me hope again, made me feel again, and then you left me,
again
."

Resentment flared inside me like a brush fire. Hot, at first, but contained; just a spark flying from a crackling campfire. Then it caught, and the dry brushwood of grudges held for years, nurtured it to a roaring flame that couldn't be held back. My voice, choked by fierce hatred, escaped in an angered hiss.

"You left me to this, with
your daughter
, because I see you in her eyes every day. You left me and your
child
and went to live your life." I closed my eyes, careless of anyone around me who might hear the words spilling from my mouth. I blinked, but couldn’t shift Val’s gorgeous, stubbled face from my mind – harder now that he'd grown to a man: stronger.

My anger boiled over, and the kaleidoscope turned, shattering the picture into a thousand tiny fragments.

"And worse," I croaked, anger turning to sadness, turning to loss in an instant. "You lied to me. You said you never touched a woman but me. But how can that be true? With the life you live, a dozen girls must throw themselves at you every day. You could screw a dozen girls in a dozen cities and still be back on your jet in time for dinner…"

And they'd all be prettier than me, younger than me, thinner than me…

My shoulders hunched over as exhaustion took me. I lifted up the rope, opened the gate, and then released it. The gate closed with an angry squeal, metal on metal, but it didn't register. My palm was a fiery red, but I didn't feel it. As I walked towards the cottage, a sense of acceptance came over me. My mind was made up.

The next time I saw Val, I'd end things: for good.

But the second I turned the front door handle and pushed it open, everything went to shit.

The cottage was coal black inside, even though it was the middle of the day. Every curtain was closed and every blind drawn. But I didn't have a second to puzzle over why before my ears were attacked by a deathly battle scream, and my brain screamed at me to
run
. But I didn't, and I don't know why.

Maybe it was because I'd heard that sound before.

Or perhaps because my brain was done with fear, it was done with flight.

Either way, all I did was duck.

"You good-for-nothing, abusive, alcoholic, asshole, ASS WIPE!"

A formless shape escaped the darkness, swinging something in a jagged figure-eight pattern in the air.

"I told you, if you came back, you were going to get hit! Are you stupid, or just drunker than normal? She ain't here; she never was, so get out before I call the police!"

Everything clicked into place. I knew that voice.

"Lex?" I croaked, taking a step back as the swinging object came too close to my face for comfort. I felt the air move as it brushed past my nose. "Is that you? It's –"

"You asshole, Russell, you come back here you’re gonna get a beating, you hear that? You're –," she paused, and the swinging object thudded against the floor. When the voice returned, it was softer, and almost apologetic.

"Cara? That you?"

I groped for the light switch to my left, heart thundering in my chest. I felt like it might explode from the exertion at any second. "Yes, it's me! Jesus, Lex, what the hell happened here?"

Light from the open doorway poured into the room and exposed a battleground. Shards of smashed porcelain littered the floor, and the couch in front of the TV lay on its back. In front of me, my oldest and best friend Lex let out a huge sigh and collapsed, squatting down onto her haunches, using a chipped and jagged baseball bat for support. She bowed her head. I rushed over to her.

"Lexie, what the hell? Did someone –?" I stopped mid-sentence, my heart missing a furious beat and sinking like a stone. Something she'd said in the midst of her rage floated into my consciousness.
"You asshole, Russell…"

"Jesus, Lexie, my dad didn't come here, did he? Tell me he didn't hurt you. Is Kitty okay? The kids?"

The words tumbled out of me like boulders down a mountain, crashing down onto Lexie's exhausted face. She looked like she'd run a marathon – face drawn, eyes lined with shadows.

"Tell me it's okay?" I croaked my voice plaintive with worry.

"Shit, Cara, you scared the hell out of me. You know that?" Lexie fell onto her ass, collapsing onto the ground as she spoke. "I thought he was back…" She grabbed my hand, pressing it to her breast.

"You feel that, my heart beat? I thought it was going to pop out of my rib cage, grow wings, and fly the hell away from here!"

"Lex," I hissed, feeling a desperate worry building in my chest for my daughter's safety. "What –"

She waved her hand. "Kitty's fine; Maisie and Poppy, too. They're hiding in the basement. But it's fine, now."

"It was Russell, wasn't it?" I breathed quietly, not wanting my suspicions to be confirmed. I sank onto my ass, joining Lex on the battered, dark wooden floor. "He came here looking for me?"

"He had a goddamn gun, you know that?" Lexie said, half-hyperventilating as the adrenaline high began to fade. Her pupils widened, and her light blue eyes turned pale with exhaustion. "A revolver, like something out of a Second World War movie."

"Oh my God," I said. It was all I could say. "A gun? Where the hell did he get a gun? Was he drinking?"

"It was hard to tell. Either he was, or he had been. He stunk of booze, I'll tell you that. Hell, I doubt the gun was real, or if it even had bullets in it. He was waving it around like he didn't know which end went bang. Still, sure scared the shit out of me…"

"Did you call the police?" I couldn't believe that Lexie had knowingly gone up against a man with as fierce a temper as my dad with nothing more than a baseball bat. She was crazy – hell, that's why I liked her so much. But Jesus was she crazy.

She stared at me, seriously this time. "No girl. Are you crazy? You want CPS involved? This is the kind of shit that gets Kitty taken away quicker than you can blink. Hell, Maisie and Poppy too, if they decide to be mean."

My heart stopped, gripped in a vice, and my stomach clenched so tight couldn't have been more than the size of an orange. "Taken away?" I gasped, throat as dry as the Sahara. Kitty was all I had left. No home, no husband, no lover nor mother – if Kitty went, my life would follow.

"I'm sorry, Cara," Lexie said, eyes watering. "But…"

The words she couldn't bring herself to say hung in the air between us, but it didn't matter. I knew what she was asking. We'd been friends so long I could read her like a book, every tic and frown giving away as much as an entire chapter.

I knew what she was asking, and I didn't blame her one bit.

"But I can't stay here," I murmured, closing my eyes. I felt as much as heard Lexie shake her head, her silky blonde hair whispering across her shoulders.

"I'm sorry…" She sighed. "But I can't put the kids –"

I cut her off, opening eyes bright with conviction. "You're sorry?" I squealed, more by accident than design.

"What the hell have you got to be sorry for? You did more than I had any right to ask. If it wasn't for you, Kitty would've been, hell, God knows where. I've seen what Russell's like when he drinks. When he's in one of his moods…" I tailed off, barely daring to picture where she might have ended up.

"No," I continued, "Don't be sorry. We'll find somewhere to go; somewhere safe; someplace he can't hurt us – or you."

I didn't know where that would be. I had a thought, but no way it could work.
That's gonna be like jumping from the frying pan into the fire
…

Silent tears poured down Lexie's face. "I
am
sorry," she repeated, letting the baseball bat fall away and gripping my hand tight. "That I didn't –"

"Do more?" I finished, with a bitter laugh. "Lexie, you're five foot nothing and a hundred pounds soaking wet. Half the guys in my phone book wouldn't have even come close to doing what you did. Don't you dare beat yourself up over this!"

"I guess a momma bear’s gotta protect her cubs…"

* * *

L
exie's words
rang in my ears as I lay on the pullout couch in her basement, stroking Kitty's rich auburn hair. My baby girl's chest rose and fell like a metronome, up and down. Up, and down. The sound both soothed me and terrified me. Kitty was all I had, and if I lost her…

I couldn’t even bear thinking about it. She was my responsibility – no one else's – and right now I was failing.

I couldn't blame my friend for kicking me out. I didn't.
She's just doing what she's gotta do
. And in her place, I couldn't honestly say I'd do any different. When your kid's life's on the line, you don't think the same as normal people. You realize that you're just a guardian, with one sole duty – to keep your babies safe. Hell, Lexie hadn't even kicked me out yet. Not for real. She was a good friend.

The problem: I had nowhere else to go. Russell's door was closed to me, and his was the only home I knew. I wouldn't go back there, anyway. I didn't trust him not to snap, to beat me, to cuss at my daughter, or cuff her with anger.

Hell no, we're not going back
.

I thought about heading to a woman's shelter. They had places for people like me, people with a kid to take care of. But that was out, too. I used to volunteer at a place downtown, and I saw what happened there when the lights went out. It made me sick. Maybe there were good places, too.

But I can't risk you, baby
.

I was lost: cast out in the middle of an ocean without so much as a rowboat to help me float, or an oar to guide me.

I was sinking, fast, and if I didn't come up with a plan soon, then I was gonna end up on the street.

And the street's no place for a two-year-old.

A crushing realization weighed down on my shoulders, and tightened my throat until I knew I wouldn't be able to weep, let alone speak. It was what every mother feared, and worse for me, because I was doing everything I could to stop it.