“That’s part of the reason I came over.” Justin leans toward me. “I have an idea.”
This is the time I expect him to reach for me, tell me he loves me, and promise to help with any decision I make regarding our child. Basically, to step up and do the right thing.
Instead he stares at me, his green eyes solemn.
“Unless it’s robbing a bank, I don’t know how you can help,” I say, expecting a chuckle. But Justin’s face is rock solid, his chiseled features rigid.
“Justin?”
“You said the woman you’re trying to get to exonerate your father is wealthy, right?”
“I mean, she lives on Pleasanton Lake.” I lean back against the sofa. “She’s certainly not poor.”
“Does she carry cash? Cards? Wear anything flashy?”
“A wedding band is all I’ve seen on her finger,” I say. Without thinking, I mention a watch that Courtney complimented her on. Then, realizing I’m just encouraging him, I grumble, “What’re you suggesting?”
My wordless expression must have come across as dumb.
“Don’t play stupid, babe,” he excitedly says. “Let’s do both at the same time.” Grabbing my knee, he shakes it. “Let’s rob her, and you can keep working to free your father at the same time.”
“It won’t work. I just found out she’s pregnant.”
“You’re shitting me? No way.” Then he groans, “She’s pregnant?”
“Yeah, she just told me,” I mutter. “It’s too risky to rob her, and I don’t want that on my conscience, beating up a pregnant woman.”
“We can do it without hurting her.” He taps a finger to his chin. “Does she have cameras at her house?”
“I haven’t seen any, but I wouldn’t put it past her. She doesn’t need them; she rarely leaves the house.”
“You better start paying attention to your surroundings.” Justin points to his eyes and ears. “You need to keep these open, and you need to take notes. What’s her last name?”
“Coburn. But I’ve already searched, and there’s nothing on social media sites. Even her faculty page at the community college is sparse.”
“Elizabeth, we need this. Don’t you want a new phone? And extra cash?” He claps his hands together. “New clothing for our baby?”
“That’s a cheap shot.” I give him a lethal stare. “We both know you don’t want the responsibility.” He doesn’t argue with me over this, since it’s reality.
“Don’t you want to get payback on the bitch?” Bitterness laces his words. “She’s the reason you don’t have a father or a mother. Do you really think your mother would’ve killed herself if it weren’t for the negative publicity of the case?”
I can’t believe Justin just said it out loud.
Sure, I’ve thought it.
I’ve even screamed it before.
But I’ve never heard someone else say it so poignantly to my face.
“Look at me,” I say to Justin.
His words strike a chord in my heart as I lean down so we are at eye level.
“I’m scared out of my mind about having a baby.”
“I know. Me too.”
With a stroke of his cheek, I murmur, “But don’t ever talk to me like that about Katrina again, do you hear me?”
“Yeah,” he whispers. “I didn’t mean any harm.”
“I don’t care what you do to Charlotte fucking Coburn, but don’t ever use my family against me or as a reason to act on my behalf. You got me pregnant, and you’re fucking Courtney Kerr—don’t think I don’t know.”
“I am not.” I can feel his warm breath on my face. “I would never do that to you.”
“Put the boys to bed,” I order, “and tell them you won’t be seeing them anymore.”
“Elizabeth, you can’t—”
“Oh, but I can.”
I’ve had to deal with half truths and lies all my life from the adults who were supposed to be responsible for my well-being.
I think of Charlotte’s face, how effortless it was for her to sit there and lie to me. Her claim that her infamous fall down the stairs was my father’s doing and not her own.
And my father, an alcoholic wife beater and all-around piece of shit, with his empty promises to get the family back together.
But Justin. No, not Justin. I never thought he’d turn into one of them.
He went from being the center of my universe—the only reason to keep climbing out of this black hole—to being the crater, the one big empty depression, that my life has collapsed into.
Unable to look at him, I step backward, turning toward the wall as I face away from him.
He stands and hesitates before I feel a light pat on my shoulder. Then his footsteps disappear into the boys’ room.
And, unable to stand any longer, I do what I do best in situations like this. I lie down on the floor, shove a pillow over my face, and tune out the sounds of the television, Justin’s animated voice as he acts out a bedtime story, and the guttural sound of a young girl crying.
Justin comes out into the living room and yanks the pillow off my face.
It isn’t until he’s standing there, aghast, that I realize the noises are coming from me.
CHAPTER 24
Charlotte
Over the weekend, I have a yearning for another home-improvement project. Even though the house is relatively new, I’m obsessed with scouring local flea markets and antiques shops for Tiffany lamps or the perfect dishware. I make my way to a dealer across town and rummage through vintage-book sales to find first editions for a bookshelf in the baby’s room.
When I arrive at home, Noah’s car is parked in the garage.
Strange. I check my phone for any missed calls or texts. I’m surprised as I step over the threshold into the house, since he always lets me know when he’s on his way home.
“What’s this?” His voice startles me from above.
I look up toward the chandelier. “What’s what?”
“This framed picture of me on the wall.”
“I changed some of the photographs out.” Then I snicker, “What, you don’t like how young you look?”
“It’s becoming a blip on the map.” He shakes his head. “Char, we need to talk.”
“Can you at least greet me with a kiss first?” I tease.
“That’s the problem. I’ve got to get going or I’m going to miss my plane.”
“You’re not staying?” I try to keep the disappointment out of my voice. “I thought we’d spend some time before—”
“I can’t.” Noah abruptly motions to his suitcase. “My luggage is all ready to go.”
“You didn’t even bother unpacking.” I point to his Tumi bags. “You need fresh clothes, Noah.”
“Be right back.” He gives me an irked sigh. When he’s annoyed, his hazel eyes shift to green. “I need to grab my charger.”
Standing at the doorway, I don’t break my concentration on him. His tie’s loosened, and his three days of scruff makes him look older and haggard. He’s still sexy as hell, but he is closed off.