Dillon brushes an errant tear from my eye as his soulful voice floods the car. “It’s still my favorite song to sing,” he whispers in my ear, sending delicious shivers racing up and down my spine. “Every time I sing it, no matter what part of the world I’m in, I’m always singing it for you. I’m always remembering how you looked at the wedding when I sang it for the first time.”
Tears clog the back of my throat as his husky voice wraps around me, offering comfort if I want to reach for it. Thankfully, my son comes to the rescue before I’m tempted.
“I know this song!” He jumps around in his seat. “My mommy has this song on her phone!”
My eyes swivel to my son’s. How on earth does he know that? I was always careful to hide my semi-obsession with Collateral Damage from my husband and my son.
“She does, huh?” Dillon asks, and I hear the smile in his tone.
“I should check your wound!” I blurt, desperately needing to divert this conversation. “Audrey says she can tend to it provided it’s not too deep.”
“It’s a flesh wound at most,” he says, smirking that annoying smirk I’ve always loved to hate. Of course, he knows I’m deflecting.
“It seems to be bleeding a lot,” I murmur, not wanting to alarm E.
“A knife in the back tends to do that.”
“Don’t make light of it. It freaked me out seeing it.”
His humorous expression alters in a heartbeat. “I know.” He tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear, brushing my cheekbone in the process, and I hate how my body yearns to lean into him. I can’t forget all the ways Dillon has hurt me and Reeve. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forgive him for it. “Are you okay?”
“I should be asking you that.” My eyes latch on to his familiar green gaze. I wonder why he’s reverted to his previous look. Is it to divert attention from his resemblance to Reeve, or is there some part of him that hopes I might remember what we once shared if he looks the same? Or is he merely returning to what’s more comfortable? The look his fans fell in love with?
“I’m fine. Nothing some stitches and a few painkillers won’t cure, I’m sure.”
“Thank you,” I say as Easton sings along with the song, guessing the words. “Thank you for saving me back there.”
“I would jump in front of a crazy bitch every day to save you if you’d give me the chance.”
“Do I want to know why you were there?”
He shrugs, moving his mouth to my ear again. His warm breath wafts over my flesh, sending a fresh wave of shivers cascading over my skin. “You won’t let me see him, so I’ve been showing up every morning at camp just to catch a glimpse.”
That’s borderline stalking, but I don’t blame him. I have left him no choice. In this moment, I feel like I’ve been very unfair to Dillon. In my defense, I did it to protect Easton, but he’s turned a corner these past two weeks, and I can’t continue to refuse Dillon. Look how they’ve already bonded, and I can’t deny my son the opportunity to get to know his father. That doesn’t mean I’m going to let Dillon off the hook that easy. “You really don’t understand the word no.”
“That surprises you?” he asks, keeping his face close to mine.
“Not really.” I sigh in relief as we turn into our driveway. I managed to survive a journey with someone else behind the wheel, and I successfully fought an anxiety attack. Perhaps there is hope for me after all.
“I’m the same irritating impatient asshole you hated to love in Ireland.” His eyes sparkle as he teases me, and it would be as easy as breathing to fall back into his arms. Except there are too many secrets and lies between us, too much hurt and pain, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to overcome them.
Besides, starting anything with Dillon again would be the ultimate betrayal to Reeve. Dillon needs to be back in my life, but his place in it is clearly defined. He is Easton’s father, and we will be coparents.
That is all he will be to me.
“Things are different now,” I say as Bobby pulls the car to a stop outside our front door. “I’m different, and no matter how much we both might want to turn back the clock, we don’t have a time machine. You’d do well to remember that.”
23
VIVIEN
“Fuck, that stings,” Dillon hisses as he lies on his stomach on the couch in our formal living room while Audrey tends to his injury.
“Stop being such a baby. I’m only cleaning the wound.”
I’ve watched silently as Audrey helped him to remove his hoodie and shirt and lie down, saying nothing as my heart ached at the sight of the scorpion tattoo on his back. Dillon told me once it signified determination, rebirth, and resilience. Now I know the missing pieces of the puzzle, it makes so much sense.
Without thinking, my fingers trail over the edge of the design while Audrey threads the needle, ready to stitch him up. She doesn’t have any local anesthetic and Dillon refused alcohol, so this will hurt like a bitch. Perhaps I can distract him. “Did you know if you are born under the totem of a scorpion in Native American spirituality, it means you are defensive? That you should be wary of threats and protect yourself from them with speed and stealth and always strike first. After I learned that about scorpions, I thought it interesting you would choose to ink yourself with one.”
“You googled my tattoo?” he asks, in between clenching his jaw. “That sounds very stalkerish.”
I roll my eyes as Audrey concentrates on his back, holding his skin together with one hand while she stitches with the other. “Don’t get a big head. You know your tattoos intrigued me. Did you know what it represented when you chose it?”
“Of course, I did. Why else would I pick a scorpion? Ah, fuck.” He squeezes his eyes closed and bites down on his lip.
“I’m almost done, and you’re doing great,” Audrey says.
“Yay! Do I get a lollipop when you’re finished?”
“It’s not advisable to tease the doctor when she’s currently got a sharp needle pressed against your skin,” I warn. “And stop deflecting. That ink is the physical manifestation of your vengeance plan. Isn’t it?”
“Every time I’d look at it in the mirror,” he pants, grinding his teeth to the molars. “It would remind me I needed to strike back. That no one else would protect me if I didn’t protect myself.”
Audrey and I exchange sad expressions as she sets the needle down. Dillon has been cruel and heartless and done a lot to hurt me. There is no excusing that. But there is no denying how he was grievously wronged and how much his life has been shaped by Simon’s abandonment of him. No child deserves that. So much of the enigma that is Dillon makes more sense to me now I have all the facts.
“I just need to give you a tetanus shot, and then we’re done,” Audrey explains.
Outside in the hallway, I hear Easton arguing with Angela. I told his nanny to keep him out of here, because I don’t want him seeing Dillon’s injury. Thankfully, he didn’t see him getting stabbed back at camp. That reminds me I promised him he could have some school friends over this afternoon. It will help to ease the disappointment of missing his hike. I make a call to the guy who usually supplies us with bounce houses, offering him double if he’ll come over ASAP and set one up.