Cole Cameron's Revenge

He'd wanted her and she'd tumbled straight into his trap.

Now he wanted the child he believed was Ted's. Faith shuddered. At least she hadn't told him the truth about Peter. If he'd known her son was really his...

No. She wasn't going to think about that. The possibilities were too frightening.

Faith looked into the mirror one last time, gathered her comb and compact, a lipstick and a couple of tissues and tucked them into her purse. Did she looked like a woman who could sell children's clothing at Macy's?

"Yes," she said to her reflection, "yes, I do."

She smoothed down her skirt and did a last-minute check to make sure she had everything. Keys. The last of her dwindling supply of cash. Okay. She took a deep breath. She was ready.

"Don't worry," Anne had said, when Faith brought Peter to her door earlier in the morning. "He'll be safe." And when Faith looked at her, startled, the other woman had smiled. "You don't have to tell me details but I can tell you've got some kind of problem. Is it with your ex? Does he want to take Peter from you?"

"Something like that," Faith had murmured, because what more could she possibly have said? That her ex was still her husband? That he was a ruthless man who had condemned her as a heartless schemer, and that she was the worst kind of fool because sometimes, in the darkness of the night, she lay awake and wept for the quiet part of her soul that was foolish enough to still love him?

"Stop it," she said firmly, and started toward the door. Something was lying under the table... Ah. She bent down and picked up the small plastic car that was Peter's latest pride and joy.

"Oh, boy," he'd said, when the car had tumbled from the cereal box this morning, "wait until Jimmy and Joey see this!"

She smiled as she pocketed the toy. Peter would come looking for the car as soon as he realized he'd forgotten it. Well, she could drop it off at Anne's on her way out...

The doorbell rang. Faith's smile broadened. Peter, she thought. He'd already figured out that he'd left his prize behind.

"Sweetheart," she said as she opened the door, "I was just going to bring this to--

It wasn't her son. It was Cole.

She cried out in shock and tried to push the door closed. He must have expected that because he jammed his shoulder against the it at the same moment and the door flew open, propelling her backward.

Cole stepped into the apartment and shut the door behind him. Faith's heart leaped. This was her worst nightmare come true. He'd found her. He'd found Peter. How could she have been so careless? Opening the door like that, without putting her eye to the peephole? Without at least asking, "Who's there?" Hadn't she warned Peter about those very things? Hadn't she lectured him? Hadn't she set out a whole procedure and just violated it?

"Hello, Faith," Cole said.

She swallowed dryly. "How-how did you find us?"

"You left a trail like an elephant in a crockery shop." He looked around the room, his face expressionless, but she knew what he saw, the cracked plaster, the time-stained walls, the sagging furniture. "Nice place you and the boy have here."

"Get out," she said shakily. "Get out, or I'll call the police."

Cole arched one eyebrow. "Go ahead. Call them. What will you tell them when they get here? That you're not in the mood for a civilized talk with your husband?"

Peter, she thought, Peter, sweetheart, stay where you are. Don't come back here. Don't come back!

"What do you want, Cole?"

You, he wanted to say, but he had- the feeling she wasn't ready to hear that yet. She might not ever be ready to hear it. His heart ached as he looked at her. She was wearing the suit she'd worn that day she'd come to Jergen's office but it hung loosely on her now. She'd lost weight, she looked tired, and it was his fault. Everything was his fault. He'd taken the one good thing in his life and destroyed it, not once but twice.

"Well?" Faith dug her hands into her pockets and lifted her chin. "What do you want?"

"Where's Peter?"

"He's not here. And you won't find him. I've-I've sent him away, where he'll be safe."

"Yeah." Cole heaved out a breath. "That's just as well. We need to talk."

"I have nothing to say to you."

He nodded. "I know. But I have things to say to you." "There's nothing you could tell me that I'd be interested in hearing."

"Faith-"

"No. No, for the first time since you came into my life again, I'm not going to listen to you. You could sing `Dixie' while standing on your head. You could do Shakespeare while balancing on one foot, and I still wouldn't give a damn!"

"I deserve all that."

"Oh, please. Don't try and be humble. It doesn't become you. And it won't work. I am not going to listen to a thing you-"