“No one is going to laugh at you. But Seth is right … if Austin hasn’t let his obsession with you go, then we need this on record. The charges will more than likely be dismissed before it even gets to court due to lack of evidence, but if we can track down Liam and Desi as witnesses, we might have a shot. And even if we can’t and the charges are dismissed, it will be on his record.”
“So that if anything else happens …” I trailed off, shuddering at the thought of anything else happening.
“Nothing is going to. He can’t get to you here. I need you to be brave one more time, Regan, and do this, not for me or your dad, but for yourself.”
Even though the thought made me want to puke, I knew I couldn’t run from it anymore. “Okay.”
Satisfied, Robyn gave me a nod and a look that said she was proud of me, and I had to admit, it felt great to make her proud.
After she made the coffee and slipped onto a stool next to me, she said, “I need you to do one more thing for me.”
“And that would be?”
“I need you to consider talking to someone. Professionally.”
Stiffening at a comment that seemed to come out of left field, I bristled. “You think I need to see a therapist?”
“Don’t say it like that.” She glared. “I went to therapy for months after I got shot.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“Well, I did. I couldn’t cope with it all on my own. I had nightmares about killing Eddie Johnstone.”
Eddie Johnstone was the drug dealer who’d shot my sister. She’d fired back in self-defense and killed him.
“It all kind of snowballed. The shooting, my unhappiness with my job, why I became a cop, Mac’s abandonment. Therapy was the reason I came to see my dad in the first place. I realized that I’d never have any sense of closure until I knew why he’d left me. Unfortunately,” she said, heaving a sigh, “that opened up a whole new can of worms with Mom, but she and I are getting there. At least, we were getting there until I realized how much she’d screwed with your head over the years.”
“It’s just mom-and-daughter stuff,” I assured her. “At least she loves us. Other people have it way worse in the parent department.”
“True.” Robyn nudged me with her shoulder. “My point is, therapy helped.”
“And you think I need therapy?” The thought scared me.
As always, my sister read me like a book. “It’s not a shameful thing to need, Regan. And you have a terrible habit of either physically or mentally running away from your emotions. You ran away from me because you couldn’t deal with how frightened you were at the thought of losing me, and you ran away from your own memories of that night in Vietnam because you couldn’t deal with the trauma. And I’m so afraid that you’ll repeat it. Anytime life gets really hard or really sad, you’ll push everyone away and lock your shit down so tight that one day, it will all explode out of you, and the results could be devastating.”
I breathed a little harder because I knew she might be right, though at the same time certain she was wrong. “I won’t run. I didn’t run when McClintock tried to kidnap Eilidh. I’m not running now, even knowing Austin hasn’t backed off like I’d hoped. I’m in love with a man who sees me as something temporary, and it hurts like hell, but I’m not running away.”
Robyn’s expression filled with sympathy as she squeezed my hand. “That’s good. That’s great. I’m proud of you, and I hope that doesn’t come across as condescending.”
“It doesn’t.”
“I still would like you to see someone. I won’t pressure you. You have to make that decision on your own.”
Covering her hand with mine, I nodded. “Then I promise I’ll think about it.”
We fell into silence and sipped our coffees while I pondered the huge conversations that had taken place between us in less than twenty-four hours.
Robyn looked at me. “You’re in love with Thane?”
I grimaced. “I tried not to be.”
She huffed, “Oh, sweetheart, I’ve been there. Those damn Adairs.”
I snorted. “I know, right?”
We shared a commiserating look.
30
Regan
To distract us, Robyn joined me while I went Christmas decoration shopping. I’d discovered Thane put up a real tree every year, and it was a tradition for them all to go pick one. However, I’d also learned that he only had one box of ornaments and another with some knickknacks. It seemed Fran hadn’t been Christmas crazy like I am. But a large house like Thane’s should be covered in festive cheer, so I bought more decorations.
By the time I hauled it all into the house, I was a little worried Thane might be irritated with me for taking it upon myself to buy holiday décor. However, when Thane stormed into the house five minutes after I’d hauled in all my purchases and half an hour before I needed to pick up the kids, it wasn’t me he was angry at.
“What are you doing home early?” I tripped over a bag of tree baubles as I hurried out of the sitting room to meet him in the kitchen.
His scowl was as deep as a scowl could be, and it reminded me so much of Eilidh, I wondered how anyone could think he wasn’t her dad. And then, like he’d plucked the thought from my mind, Thane barked, “Sean has demanded a DNA test.”
Anxiety gripped me. “What?”
Thane waved a piece of paper at me. “From his lawyer. They’re taking me to court to acquire a court-ordered paternity test to determine if Eilidh is his daughter.”
“What?” I yelled now. “After what he did? Are they crazy?”
Thane threw the letter at the island and it fluttered onto the floor. I picked it up, smoothing it out to read the words written by McClintock’s lawyer.
“I spoke with my lawyer on the drive home.” Thane exhaled slowly, his hands to his hips, agitation vibrating from him. “She said that due to Sean’s erratic behavior, it is unlikely Eilidh would ever be taken from my custody in the immediate future.”
“Immediate future?”
That muscle ticked in his jaw as he tried to control his building fury. “Never mind the unbearable fucking idea of losing her later on down the line … what do I tell her now, Regan? She’s five years old—how do I explain this to her? Even if Sean doesn’t get custody, what happens if legally she’s not mine?”
His chest was heaving, and I could see he was panicking.
Our roles had flipped. Over the weekend, he’d calmed me down. Now it was my turn to be cool and collected and support him.
“Hey, hey, hey.” I gripped his arms, forcing him to focus on me. “This will take weeks or even months to get to court, okay, so let’s beat the bastards to it.”
Thane stilled in my hold. “What do you mean?”
“We’ll do it now. Under the radar. We’ll take hair from Eilidh’s hair brush, and we’ll run our own DNA test. The results don’t take long, and finally you’ll know one way or the other and your lawyer will help you with a plan. Grief does not give him the right to come into your lives and hurt this family.”