I try to pull my hand away, but he holds fast.
“I saw the way you looked at your brother’s baby,” I say. “I know you want children. That’s what you were secretly hoping for in Zim. That’s why you didn’t get me the morning-after pill.”
“Yes, damn you.” He squeezes my fingers to the point of pain. “Yes, I wanted that. Yes, it was wrong of me not to get the pill. I should be sorry, but I’m not. Am I devastated for you? Yes. Am I guilty? Yes. I should’ve killed Ruben long before he had a chance of taking a shot at you. That doesn’t change a goddamn thing about how I feel. I love you, Cas. I love you, not your body or its breeding capacity. Nothing can ever change that, do you hear me?”
It’s too much. It’s like seeing him at the bar. My emotions threaten to get the better of me. “We can’t go back to the way it was. Too much has happened.”
“No, we can’t.” He adds with determination, “That’s why we’ll go forward.”
I don’t want this for him. I don’t want him to give up on fathering a child. It’s selfish and cruel of me, but I can’t cope with imagining Ian impregnating another woman. I’m too jealous to consider a surrogate mother. Moving forward doesn’t make sense, not for us. He’ll regret his decision when it’s too late. He’s thirty-six. His clock is ticking. I don’t want to become the resented woman, the woman for whom he sacrificed a family. Some people are fine about not bringing kids into the world while it’s an undeniable desire for others. Ian falls into the latter category.
“I’m a criminal, Cas. There’s no place in my life for a child.”
I look away. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Try to justify a decision you shouldn’t make. That’s not your heart talking.”
“Look at me.”
When I don’t react, he grips my chin and turns my face to him. His eyes are awash with emotion. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions. I’m sorry I didn’t see through Ruben and anticipate his plan. I’m sorry you almost died.” He swallows. “I’m sorry our baby died. I’m sorry that you can’t have children.” Placing my hand on his cheek, he rubs his face against my palm. “I’m not sorry for taking you that night. I’m not sorry for making love to you, and I’m not sorry for going after you again and again. I’ll never be sorry as long as you stay. That’s all I ask, Cas. Stay.”
The speech loosens something in my chest. The words floor me. The floodgates open. What I feared, happens. Sorrow and regret burn a path through my chest and clog up my throat.
He climbs onto the bed and pulls me into his arms. “It’s okay to let it out.”
I want to fight him, but the sentiments holding me hostage make me too weak.
It pushes up like a volcano until the top blows, and the ache in my throat lifts. Sobs rack my body. They’re dry sobs, gasps for air. The crust of hatred cracks, and the slush buried underneath erupts from my chest and pours from my eyes like acid rain. For the first time, I mourn properly. I mourn with tears instead of vengeance.
The more he hushes and rocks me, the more I cry. I cry until my throat is raw, and my eyes are dry, and all that’s left are the ashes of grief. I’m a ragdoll in his arms, weak from the emotional outburst, but lighter than what I’ve felt in a year. The anger that had churned inside me spilled out like rivers of lava. The heat is purging. The ash cloud clears and clarity sets in. For the first time since the accident, I feel like I can do what Ian suggested. I can move forward, but not with him. It’s tempting, but I love him too much to be that selfish.
“I’m here,” he whispers in my hair, kissing the crown of my head.
For now.
I’ll take it one day at a time until I find a new direction.
For now, it’s hugging Ian back and comforting the man who’s lost a baby. For now, it’s feeling something other than impulses based on instinct. It’s suffering pain but realizing I’m strong enough to get through it. It’s caring for someone else more than caring for myself. It’s being honest, acknowledging my love. It’s grieving and moving on so that both of us can survive.
It’s holding on to a purpose.
It’s finding Wolfe.
Sniffing, I say, “In five days, your brother’s staff will be back. We need to decide where we’re going and how we’re handling Wolfe.”
“Don’t worry,” he says, stroking my hair. “I have a plan.”
Chapter 11
Ian
Holding Cas in my arms, I hate myself. The fact that we can’t have children is my fault. If she never met me, none of this would’ve happened. She’d be working in a bank in Rustenburg. Her biggest concern would’ve been making her rent, not being on the run for crimes she didn’t commit and chased by a cop set on killing her. Maybe she would’ve met a nice guy, got married, and had those kids she can’t have now.
Fuck. That thought hurts with a force that twists me inside out. I don’t show her what’s brewing inside me. I don’t want to load more weight on her frail shoulders. This isn’t about me. I’m going to fix what I can. It’s too late to give her a baby, but I can give her peace of mind. I’ll be damned if I let her look over her shoulder for the rest of her life. I’m going to eliminate the man who threatens her, and we’re going to live happily ever after. End of story.
She breaks free from the vise of my arms, pushing away a little. “What’s your plan?”
I blow out a breath, considering how much to tell her. I’ll be going after Wolfe alone, and my feisty girl isn’t going to like it. “I’m setting a trap for Wolfe.”
She studies my face. “How?”
“By doing another heist.”
She goes rigid. “What kind of heist?”
“Diamonds.”
“What?” She shifts to the edge of the bed, out of my reach. “Where?”
“Rustenburg.”
Her lips part. “Rustenburg? Are you out of your mind?”
“It’ll be like having the advantage of playing a match on home territory. Wolfe lost the match there twice, once against me when I evaded him after the heist at Sun City and once against you when you slipped through his fingers. It’s where he killed Nick. He has a bad connotation to the place. Bad connections create negative feelings, and negative feelings create mistakes.”
“Where are you planning on finding these diamonds?”
“Your ex-boyfriend owns the biggest jewelry franchise in the province, and his head office is in Rustenburg.”
“Mint?” she exclaims. “He’s not my ex-boyfriend.”
“Just as well. At least I don’t have to kill him.”
“Don’t joke.” She purses her lips. “It’s not funny.”
“No jokes.” She better believe it. I still feel like offing the moron for how he treated her. “I’d say he deserves to lose more than his Porsche.”
“You can’t be serious.”
I give her a level look.