The Fireman's Son. Tara Taylor Quinn

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СКАЧАТЬ Walker. Had she cheated on him, too? And how many in between him and Reese?

      “I’m divorced.” That seemed to mean more to her than it did to him.

      He almost told her he was sorry to hear it. But he wasn’t. What he was, was pissed. Pissed that she was there at all.

      And pissed that he hadn’t kicked her out yet.

      “Just out of curiosity, who broke it off? Him or you?”

      If she said the guy had left her...if she really was alone and in need...

      “I did.”

      Of course she did.

      And then came to beg him to take her in?

      Uh-uh. No way. In hell.

      Or out of it. He held the termination paper out to her.

      He was done with her.

      “I...have a son... Reese.”

      His hand suspended midair, the paper hanging there between them, he looked at her.

      “His name’s Elliott. He’s... During the day he’s... There were only two places in the country that offered the kind of nonresident counseling and education that he needs, and the other one is on the east coast. I’d have to recertify and...”

      She had a son. His hand dropped to his side. His Faye. The woman he’d thought would be the mother of his children...had a son.

      “He’s severely at risk, Reese. To move him now, after he’s started the program... To move him from Southern California, the only home he’s ever known... Please. Give me a second chance to show you that I have what it takes to be reliable. I’m good at my job. Really good. You’ve seen my credentials and performance reports. I won’t let you, your department or Santa Raquel down.”

      He heard the last part. Couldn’t focus on it.

      “Severely at risk,” he repeated. “What does that mean?”

      When she ran her tongue over her lips, he almost turned his back on her. If she thought she was going to play him with that old maneuver...

      Her kid probably wasn’t at risk at all...

      “He’s at The Lemonade Stand.”

      He froze. “The Lemonade Stand’s for victims of domestic violence,” he said.

      She nodded.

      She’d asked for a divorce. And the kid was with her.

      “Your ex hit your son?”

      She shook her head.

      Then who had? Surely not her. Faye might be a cheater but she was most definitely not someone who would strike out in anger. Ever. She’d had the most trusting, giving, generous, nurturing heart...

      “Who then?”

      “Me.” For the first time since she’d entered the room, her gaze dropped from his, falling to the floor.

      “You hit your son?” The world had gone from ridiculous to unrecognizable. Who was this woman? What had happened to drive her to do such a thing?

      She shook her head. Shuddered. And then looked up again, something new in her eyes as she looked at him. “No, Reese, my ex-husband hurt me, not our son.”

      Our son. That answered that then. She’d been married to her son’s father.

      “How old is he?” He’d never felt so...uncomfortable...in his life. “Your boy, I mean.”

      “Eight.”

      The word hit him hard, right in the gut.

      “You married the guy you dumped me for.” There was just no classy way to get that out there.

      She nodded.

      “And had his son.”

      She nodded a second time. Looking him straight in the eye.

      His disrespect for her lessened a little as he tried to figure out what to do with her. How to get rid of her.

      The man she’d married had hurt her, she’d said. He was trying his damnedest not to process that part.

      “Are you at The Lemonade Stand, too, then?” It was a resort-type place with more housing than most shelters, including cabins for families to live in alone. Or for a mother and one child to share with another mother and one child.

      But...Faye was working for him. She wasn’t a woman finding protection at a shelter...

      The realization hit at the same time she shook her head. “I did go to a shelter, briefly,” she told him. “But just until I could get some counseling. Get my bearings. I’m not in... Frank...there’s no danger there.”

      In spite of himself, Reese cared. If some bastard was going to be coming after Faye...

      “Frank didn’t...abuse me...in the traditional way,” she told him. “And he’s not angry that I left. He was glad I walked out and took Elliott with me.”

      “He wanted you to take his son?”

      Her eyes dropped again. “Frank had antiquated ideas about men and child rearing. He didn’t raise a hand to Elliott. He just ignored him.”

      Reese didn’t get it. Not any of it.

      Faye being here...her son not being abused but being at the Stand... Faye as a victim of domestic abuse.

      And then there was Reese, losing a wife he didn’t really love to a car accident that shouldn’t have happened. Finding out after his wife was dead that she’d been six weeks pregnant.

      Life wasn’t supposed to have turned out that way.

      But one thing was clear...he and Faye...their ship had sailed. He was sorry Frank Walker had turned out to be a bastard. Honestly sorry.

      But that didn’t change the fact that Faye had cheated on Reese. Cheated him out of the life—the family—she’d promised they’d have together.

      “Elliott wasn’t abused, physically, but he...heard...what was going on between his father and me,” Faye said, breaking the silence that was leading to him picking up the piece of paper on his desk. “He...my son...has issues. Ones that could ruin his life if we don’t get them under control. It’s believed that his best chance of success is to spend at least the next semester being homeschooled at the Stand, with specialized counseling, and see if we can break through his walls and help him work through things.”

      Issues. Specialized. Things. He could imagine. But he didn’t really understand.

      The vagueness left him unsettled.

      “You’re not a nurse.”

      She СКАЧАТЬ