Descent (Steel Brothers Saga 15)

All my resources, and I couldn’t stop the horror that these men—whom I’d once considered friends—were doing to others, to the most vulnerable.

I checked my watch.

It was time.

I stood. “Excuse me for a minute, please.”

Daphne and Evie nodded.

I walked into the house and down the hallway to my office.

I dialed the number—the number that was engraved in my mind.

“Hello, Brad,” the icy voice said.

I cleared my throat. “Wendy.”

“Right on time, as usual.”

“We have a deal, don’t we?”

Our deal was she’d stay out of my life and my son’s life as long as I called her weekly and told her all about him. I opened my desk drawer and took out the gold ring I hadn’t worn in years. For some reason, I always fidgeted with it when I talked to Wendy.

I wasn’t sure why.

Maybe because she had designed it. Maybe because the ring represented a time when Wendy actually meant something to me.

As a horny teenager, I’d thought I loved her.

Now I hated her.

Hated her for what she’d done to me. To Daphne.

What she had the power to do.

“How’s my son?”

“He’s fine. He’s happy that school’s out. He’s playing with Talon out back right now.”

“Are you still taking him to Disneyland in a few weeks?”

“Daphne is taking them. I can’t make it.”

“Oh?”

“You know how busy the ranch keeps me.”

“And you trust Daphne to care for my son?”

“Damn it, he’s her son. She adores him as much as she does Joe and Talon. Ryan is in the most loving hands on the planet.”

“If I thought he wasn’t, trust me, he wouldn’t be there.”

“We made a deal a long time ago, Wendy.”

“We did. And I never renege on my deals.”

“Neither do I.”

Except I had. I’d continued to make love with my wife. What Wendy Madigan didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.

But now, Daphne was pregnant.

And Wendy would eventually find out.

My only solace was that she kept herself busy as an investigative reporter and also with the Future Lawmakers. She’d stayed in business with Tom, Theo, and Larry.

And the gangsters, I assumed. The gangsters who were in such a dirty business, I couldn’t allow myself to think about it. How had I been blind to it for so long?

I shuddered at the thought. All those times I’d allowed my son to go camping with Tom Simpson.

All those fucking times…

“I want to see him,” she said.

She said that every time. And every time, I told her, “You know the rules, Wendy. You agreed to them.”

Ryan was her one Achilles’ heel. For most of her life, I’d held that title, but now Ryan trumped even me.

“Do you ever wish things could be different?” she asked.

“Of course.”

But I meant something entirely different than she meant. I wished I’d never gotten involved with her in the first place. I wished Daphne and I and our family could live in peace.

But then you wouldn’t have Ryan.

Always the same argument with myself. I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Really stuck.

Wendy had dug her claws deep into me, and there was no escape. I’d given up any escape from her the night I’d found her in Talon’s nursery, a knife hovering over him.

“Put that knife down, Wendy.”

I ran to the crib and picked up the sleeping Talon. He was a good toddler. He slept well. I shook him gently and kissed his little forehead, begging him silently to stay asleep.

Fuck. This was my fault. We hadn’t had any trouble in years, and Cliff had the week off.

I’d gotten careless.

Wendy never could have gotten past Cliff. As it was, I had no idea how she’d bypassed the security system.

“I’m ovulating.”

“Do you think I care?”

“You’re going to fuck me, Brad. You’re going to give me that baby we lost all those years ago.”

“Dream on. Now get the fuck out of here and leave us in peace.”

“You either give me a child, or I take one of yours. This one.” She raised the knife.

I could easily disarm her, but I’d have to put Talon down. If he woke and cried out, Daphne would come in and find Wendy.

I couldn’t let that happen.

“I’m happy in this life,” I said. “Why can’t you let me be happy?”

She laughed. Softly enough not to wake Talon, though, thank God. Did she truly have a tiny bit of compassion for my child?

“You and I both know you’ll never be happy the way you could be with me. But I’ve accepted your choice. I accepted it long ago, Brad. Now you’re going to have to accept mine.”

“I don’t have to accept shit.”

“I’m going to have your child.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I think you’ll change your mind.”

“When pigs fly, I might.”

She laughed again softly. “You always had a sense of humor. I love that about you. I’ve always loved you, Brad, and I always will.”

She said those words a lot, and I never knew what to say in response. I didn’t love her. Looking back, I wasn’t sure I ever did. If so, only as a teenager loves his first love.