And they never would.
Short of escorting her to the car, he could think of no way to get her out of here. But the conflicting emotions she touched off inside him were dangerous to his mental health.
“I meant my earlier offer to help out with Alix,” she said, unwittingly giving him his escape route.
He pounced without hesitation. “Next time you feel the need to mother, have a kid of your own. I’ll take care of Alix from now on.”
Tears welled in her brown eyes and a corresponding pain filled his gut. One look at her expression and he almost reconsidered, almost took her up on her offer to help. But the part of him that had been so recently betrayed rebelled at the notion. And, he reminded himself, she’d already proven how little she cared for others.
So what was she doing here now? He pushed aside the nagging question that brought with it a flood of unwelcome guilt. He wanted to hurt her, and he had.
“I have a legal right to visit my niece,” she said once she’d regained some of her composure.
He disliked the reminder. “Next time call first.”
Her eyes narrowed, but to his surprise she didn’t fight him. “Fine. Alix loved this story, so you might want to read it to her sometime.” She handed him a worn, yellow book. “It’s a little old for her, but she’ll grow into it.” Her voice cracked. She ducked her head in embarrassment and turned and ran for her car.
He glanced down at the book she’d shoved into his hand. He didn’t recognize the title. Curious, he flipped through the tattered pages. Chelsie’s name was scrawled in block letters on the inside flap. He slid down onto the grass to read.
Closing the front cover, he pondered the mystery of Chelsie Russell. In court, she’d represented two people guaranteed to have a detrimental effect on Alix’s life. Yet today, she’d given his niece a story about life, rebirth, and hope. Something to hold on to for the future, despite all she’d lost.
Chelsie had obviously saved the book from her own childhood. Had she turned these same pages when she felt alone? Dammit, he shouldn’t care. He muttered another curse, then stood and headed inside.
* * *
Chelsie made the first right turn off Griffin’s street and stopped the car at the curb, certain she was out of his sight. Still trembling, she shoved the gear shift to park and rested her head on the steering wheel. When she had decided to check on Alix, she had told herself to expect Griffin’s anger or distrust. She realized now that she had counted on the passage of time to cool his ire. The barely concealed hatred that emanated from deep within him had taken her by surprise.
The hard look in Griffin’s eyes, coupled with his callous words, had taken her back to another time, another place. Memories that lurked just beneath her consciousness had threatened to surface and destroy her hard-won emotional stability and calm. She centered herself with two simple words: another man.
Not Griffin. Regardless of the depth of his anger, he’d never lose control. He wasn’t capable of physical abuse. She didn’t know how she was so certain, just that she was. Perhaps the way he looked at his niece allowed her to believe in him despite his rough edges and harsh tone.
Her ex-husband had had more than rough edges beneath the civilized veneer. He’d acted on his anger, reacted to whatever life dished out that didn’t go his way—unlike Griffin, who accepted and tried to move on, she thought.
No, the two men were nothing alike. But that didn’t make Griffin any less dangerous to her well-being. An attraction existed that she couldn’t deny. His harsh exterior covered a gentler side. Heaven help her should she ever be the recipient of the kinder Griffin Stuart. Thankfully, that possibility didn’t exist.
Though she’d like to pretend this was just another completed case and walk away, she couldn’t turn her back on her sister’s child. She wouldn’t, regardless of the consequences. Being around Alix forced her to face the fact that her ex-husband’s last violent act had assured her of an empty future and no children of her own.
Over the years following her marriage, she had learned to live in the present without getting mired in the past. Time, circumstance, and Griffin’s careless words brought the past she thought she’d buried into the present. Next time you feel the need to mother, have a kid of your own.
She opened the car window, hoping the fresh air would clear her head. Today was an atypical August day. Instead of sweltering heat and humidity, the air felt cool, hinting at an early autumn. She normally looked forward to this particular change of seasons. For some, spring meant a time of renewal, but she preferred the fall. For Chelsie, autumn was memory free. At least it
had been, until a little girl with dark hair had captured her heart... and the child’s uncle had stomped on it.
She slammed her hand on the wheel in frustration. Since the day she’d accepted her fate, she’d never succumbed to tears or self-pity, and she cursed Griffin Stuart for forcing her to do so now. After taking a deep breath of fresh air, she felt better. She turned the key in the ignition, but before she drove off, she had to stop and wipe the tears that blurred her vision.
* * *
“Thanks for coming.” Griff opened the front door for his friend.
“No problem.” Ryan walked in, kicked off his shoes, and headed straight for the kitchen, where he opened the refrigerator and grabbed a can of cola.
“Make yourself at home,” Griff said wryly.
Ryan grinned. “Already have.”
Since they were kids, neighbors in a run-down apartment building, Ryan had always reached the fridge first, usually swiping the last can of soda, leaving only tap water for Griff. For Jared, Ryan would make an exception, letting him share the victor’s spoils. Both Griff and Ryan had looked out for the pesky kid they both thought of as a little brother.
Ryan gave his friend the once over. “You look like hell,” he said between gulps.