The Last Piece of His Heart (Lost Boys 3)

sp; “What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Nothing. I just…I’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time. We both have.”

I thought she meant Bibi, but when she opened the door, the first and only thing I saw was the little boy—maybe two years old—standing in a playpen in front of the couch. Soft black curls framed his face, and large brown eyes watched us come in. He broke into a smile to see Shiloh and held his arms to her.

“Mama!”

I was dimly aware that Bibi had come in from the kitchen and stood at the dining room table, her hands clutched tightly with Shiloh’s mother, Marie.

My blood was thrashing in my ears, and my heart crashed against my ribs again and again. Shiloh picked the baby up and set him on her hip.

“Ronan,” she whispered, her eyes flooded. “This is August.”

I stared at the little boy, then at Shiloh and back again, a thousand emotions flooding me, more powerful than any I’d ever known.

“He’s…?”

Shiloh nodded, her smile hopeful but scared too.

“Your son.”

Chapter Thirty-Five

I watched, my heart in my throat, trying to read Ronan’s reaction. What if he never wanted a kid? What if this was too much? What if…?

He put his hand on his chest “Mine?”

That word, in his broken voice, broke my heart too.

“Yours.”

Ronan nodded vaguely. His gray eyes went between us, and then he turned and walked back out the door.

A gasp came from the dining room. I looked to my mother. “Mama…?”

She rushed forward to take August out of my arms, and I hurried outside, fear flooding me that Ronan was walking away from me. From us.

But he was sitting on the bottom step, hands dangling off his knees. He shook his head, staring at nothing. I shut the door behind me, gathered my dress and sat beside him.

“Talk to me,” I said. “Please.”

“How did this happen? When?” he asked, still not looking at me, his voice low.

“The last night we spent together. I’d been sick and not thinking after Mama dropped her bomb on me. I didn’t take my pill and you didn’t ask if I had.”

“You were upset that night,” he said. “I’d have done whatever you asked to make you feel better.”

“I know,” I said gently. “I’m saying, we’re both responsible. We made him together, and he’s not a mistake that someone needs to take the blame for. But it was hard, Ronan. You not knowing…”

“I’m glad.”

“What? You’re glad?”

“Mostly, I’m fucking wrecked, Shiloh,” he said, his voice cracking. “But part of me is glad because I’d have gone insane knowing what you were going through when I couldn’t be there. Watching him grow up through prison bars…his first memories of me as a criminal, like my dad. That would’ve fucking killed me.”

“You’re not a criminal, Ronan. I knew the truth before Frankie made it real, and I’ve been telling August about you since the beginning. About what kind of man his daddy is. How you always do whatever you think is best to protect those you love.” My voice wavered. “Even if it means you had to be away for a long time. Even then…”

“Fuck, Shiloh…”