The Saint (Notorious 3)

“What we have?” I asked, my laughter a weapon I used against both of us. “We met a month ago. You stood on a chair and accused me of getting you pregnant. We went on a date and I got humiliated in front of the entire city, which frankly was a trend that continued. You are having a baby. I have no career and we—” I touched her chest and she flinched “—don’t have anything,” I finished.

She gasped and reeled back slightly before shaking her head, determination clear on her little elfin face. I should have known she would fight me. I should have known she would make this hard. “I don’t believe you,” she whispered.

“It doesn’t matter what you believe,” I said. “It’s over.”

“I could be there for you,” she said, her hands on my chest, tears in her beautiful eyes. “I could help.”

“I don’t need help.” I grabbed her hands in one of mine, lifting them from my chest. It was time to say goodbye and end this right now. I squeezed her wrists and gave them a little shake, ignoring the tears in her eyes, the quiver of her lip—all the terrible, terrible pain I was causing her. “I’m an O’Neill, and we take care of ourselves.”

ZOE

I left Carter’s office and tried hard not to run. I felt every eye on me and knew that they all thought that I was the anonymous source. Insane. Everyone was insane. The world had turned upside down. I’d gone to bed last night like I had every night since Thanksgiving, thinking about love and family, and I woke up this morning to find out how disposable I was.

My stomach lurched, and I detoured to the bathroom off the big marble foyer on the first floor.

I hadn’t thrown up since the eleventh week of my pregnancy, but now my stomach was in my throat. I pushed opened the door of the first stall so hard it bounced back against the metal frame and the bang rang out like a shotgun blast. My fingers shook as I shut the door behind me, fumbled with the metal clasp and finally just gave up, pressing my hot cheeks against the cool metal.

How had I been so wrong? So damn wrong?

My mother had been right. The only thing guaranteed was pain. I sank down on the toilet and stuffed my fist in my mouth so no one could hear me crying.

The week dragged behind me like deadweight. Every minute, even the good ones, were tests to endure. I’d thrown myself into my work for the academy, building my future, meeting by meeting. Handshake by handshake. Eric Lafayette had been wildly helpful, but the joy had barely registered. I was swaddled in cotton, insulated against every sensation. Even the pain had become a dull throb.

I punched the numbers into the lockbox outside the little storefront off St. Louis and pulled out the key.

Dusk fell in grey slabs through the windows and I turned on the lights. It was dusty and smallish. It needed paint and some water damage in the back corner had to be repaired.

But—I spun—mirrors along the west wall. A barre. Dressing rooms in the back. The price was right, thanks to a loan from the bank and Eric’s help. The neighborhood wasn’t great, but it was changing—

The front door clicked and the room’s pressure changed. My heart leaped into my throat; my hand flew to my Mace.

“Who’s there?” I yelled, scared half to death, but hoping in some stupid place in my heart that it was Carter.

“Sorry, sweetie.” Penny stepped in through the foyer, her red raincoat a smudge of color in the gray. “I hope I didn’t frighten you.”

I nearly blacked out with relief. I sagged against a cement pillar.

“Jeez, Mom, you could have called or something. How did you know where I was?”

“Phillip,” she said, looking down at her fingers before tucking them into her pockets. “He does a good job of keeping tabs on you.”

I hadn’t talked to my mother since Thanksgiving, though Penny had called after Carter had resigned from his job. I hadn’t answered, not ready to swallow my mother’s righteousness.

“Well, you found me,” I said. “What do you think?”

Penny looked around. “Is this for the academy? It’s such a big step. Can you afford—” Penny stopped mid-sentence and I fumed, wondering if my mother was ever going to change. Was ever going to treat me like an adult. “I’m sorry,” Penny said, and I held my breath, getting the sense that my mother was apologizing for more than just that comment.

“I’m sorry for the way I’ve acted, and the way I reacted to your baby. I think that in all my fear for you, I never once told you how excited I am. And what a good mother I think you’ll be.”