Holiday Baby Scandal

If you love it, set it free.

He stared at her, willing his feet to move, to go into her bedroom and get his things so he could leave. But the pink in her cheeks, the hurt in her eyes and the grim line of her mouth were hard to ignore.

“You have to know I’m distancing myself for the sake of you and the baby.” He wanted to reach out and touch her. To let her know he did care, too much, but he had to get inside his own head and sort things out. “I need to know you’re safe. That’s been my role for so many years, but now I need to know you’re safe from me.”

“Safe from you? Then stop hurting me,” she cried, tears filling her eyes. “You can walk out that door anytime, but don’t think it’s revolving. You know I love you, damn it, you love me, too. I can see it. You wouldn’t be so hell-bent on pushing me away otherwise.”

Now he did reach for her, taking her hands in his, holding tight when she tried to jerk away. “There’s so much inside me that I need to deal with. Everything hit me so hard all at once...”

Damn it. He shook his head, glancing down to their joined hands. “Your father, your brothers have been the only family I’ve ever loved. But there’s still that demon inside me that is the twelve-year-old boy who wasn’t given love and security. I need to get that under control before it controls me.”

“It’s already controlling you.” Now when Laney pulled, he let her go. “You have shut yourself off from real feelings for so long you have no idea how to handle them. You found the scrolls, fulfilled your promise to my father, and now you have all this space in your mind that is filling back up with doubts.”

She was so dead-on. There was nothing she hadn’t hit directly.

Pulling the V of her robe tighter, she glanced away. “Just go, Ryker. You want to. You want to run and hide and be secluded from anything that threatens you to step outside of your comfort zone.”

Damn it, she was his comfort zone. He just knew if he stayed in that space too long, he’d end up destroying it if he didn’t get a handle on his past.

“For now, this is for the best.” He leaned down to kiss her on the head, but she stepped away, her eyes blazing at him.

Swallowing back his emotions, he moved around her and went back to her bedroom to get dressed. He only prayed he was making the right decision because he wanted Laney, wanted their baby. But he couldn’t pull them into his world when he couldn’t even handle living in it himself.

* * *

So maybe going back to Southie wasn’t the best of ideas. But Ryker figured if he wanted to rid himself of the past, he’d need to tackle it headfirst.

So here he stood outside his old apartment building. The place looked even more run-down than he remembered, and he hadn’t thought that was possible. The gutter hung off one si

de, the wooden steps were bowed, the railing half gone. There was no way this could be deemed livable because if this was the outside, he didn’t want to know what the inside looked like.

Snow swirled around him. The house next to the apartments wasn’t faring much better, but someone had attempted to brighten it up with a strand of multicolored lights draped around the doorway.

Shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans, Ryker stared back at the door that led to his dilapidated apartment. For the first twelve years of his life, he’d called this place home. He hadn’t known anything different. Much like so many of the kids in this area. Granted, some kids had a happy home life because money wasn’t the key to happiness. Having a home that was falling apart was definitely not the same as having an addict father who didn’t give a damn.

The penny in his pocket brushed the tip of his fingers. Ryker honestly had no clue where his father was now; he didn’t much care, either. Most likely the man had killed himself with all the chemicals he put into his system.

Ryker had actually shed tears after Patrick’s death, but felt absolutely nothing when he thought of his biological father.

This place did nothing but bring back memories Ryker hated reliving.

He turned, heading down the street. He’d parked a block away, needing the brisk walk. Keeping his head low to ward off the chill, he headed back to his SUV, which stuck out like the proverbial sore thumb. When he was a kid, if this big, black vehicle had come through, Ryker would’ve thought it was the president himself.

He’d just stepped off the curb and crossed the street when he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye.

“Mr. Barrett?”

Ryker glanced toward the old building that had sat vacant for several years. It used to be a store of sorts, then a restaurant, and he’d just assumed it would be torn down.

“I thought that was you.”

Ryker eyed the man who was unlocking the door to the building. After getting closer, Ryker could see it was Mr. Pauley, a popular contractor around the Boston area. The O’Sheas had used him a few times in the past. The truck behind Ryker’s vehicle bore the familiar emblem from Mr. Pauley’s company.

“How are you doing, Mr. Pauley?” Ryker called.

“Good. Good. Did you come by to check on the property?”

Confused, Ryker stopped by his car. “Excuse me?”