Pain coursed his features again. His grip tightened and she braced herself, experience telling her what came next, feeling the power and strength magnified by the anger and hurt in his face, his eyes.
Oh, his eyes.
Wet with unshed tears, a glimpse of the boy she’d known and loved shone through, the boy who never cried, never gave up, his stoicism on and off the football field renowned. To see what she’d done to him, what she’d brought him to—
Dear God, please…
Please…
He released his hold, stepping back, his face contorted. “Why?”
The hard edge in his voice straightened her backbone. She drew a breath, squared her shoulders and met his gaze, determined to take her just due. Hadn’t she learned that over the years? That life handed out punishments on a regular basis? With the feel of Trent’s vise-like grip a fresh memory to join a host of older ones, she raised her chin. “I gave you choices you wouldn’t have had otherwise, Trent. And that’s all I have to say right now.”
All she had to say?
He stepped forward again.
She cringed, her expression a mix of fear and dread.
Trent stopped cold.
He’d never scared a woman. Ever. The very thought sickened him, but the look on her face, no, scratch that, the look he put on her face, was mortal fear.
He needed time and space to sort this out, to deal with the anger coursing through him, an anger that seemed quite justified under the circumstances.
He turned, put his forehead to the door and breathed deep, realizing that the CEO of Walker Electronics and her team had witnessed the entire spectacle.
The Army had worked to prepare him for surprise attacks, but nothing in their tactical maneuvers readied him for this.
A boy.
A son.
Hidden. Furtive. Kept secret.
Thoughts of his childhood coursed through him, of how hard he worked to become who he was because of who he’d been, the cast-out four-year-old thrown away by vagrant parents passing by on I-86, saved by a pair of hunters who rescued him on a cold, windy, sleet-filled afternoon, hypothermic, hungry and dazed.
A host of emotions wrestled for his heart, his soul. Breathing deep, he opened the door without a backward glance or another word. He headed for the exit looking neither left nor right.
Helen Walker might rethink her offer, and with good reason. Most CEOs deplored scandal and he couldn’t blame her. He wasn’t big on drama himself, and small-town drama to boot? Magnified by a power of ten, minimum.
But there was no way he could face that table of well-dressed executives right now, not with any semblance of self-control. Better he go, get hold of himself, deal with the new hand just given to him in the game of life.
He was a father. Had been one for some time, it seemed.
A boy. His boy. He pinched the bridge of his nose as realization spiked deeper. Their boy.
Trent shook his head, gripped the nape of his neck to thwart the crushing headache, then climbed into his car, a different man than the one who had arrived short minutes before.
Very different.
Chapter Two
As mundane tasks vied for Alyssa’s attention, her thoughts kept slipping to Trent, stymieing her productivity. By ten o’clock she had no idea how she made it through the night.
What was he doing? Thinking? Was he hunting up a lawyer, wanting what had been denied him for so long? A chance to know his son, the child who grew to look more like him every day?
Fear dogged her steps. She avoided Helen Walker’s table by staying holed up in the office until Helen’s group left. What must they think of her? Of him? Of Jaden?
Regret spasmed her midsection. Her gut had clenched tight upon seeing Trent and hadn’t relaxed yet.
Dear God… Dear God…
The lament sounded lame, even to her. She’d wandered away from faith a long time ago and had much to regret in the ensuing years. No way, no how was God breathlessly waiting for her wake-up call. And now that it had come…
“Lyssa.” Cat Morrow touched her arm. The concern in the older waitress’s voice mirrored her expression. “He didn’t know?”
Lyssa leaned her head back, eyed the pressed tin ceiling tiles, bit her lip and shook her head, one tear snaking its way along her cheek. “No. You did?”
Cat sent her a look of disbelief. “Oh, honey, it only takes one look for anyone who knew Trent as a boy. He’s the spitting image of his father. Why didn’t you tell him?” Cat pulled her into a hug, her embrace unleashing the floodgates Alyssa held in check all night. “Anyone who was around you two knew what was going on. It was written all over your faces. There, there…” Cat crooned, patting her back, much as Alyssa would have done to Cory, her three-year-old daughter. “It’s all right.”
Alyssa pulled back, grabbed a handful of tissues from the box alongside the register, blew her nose and shook her head. “It’s not. I know that. And I know it never will be.”
“That’s not true—” Cat protested, but Alyssa knew better.
“Trent’s an upright guy. Always was. Always will be. He’ll never understand what I did.”
Cat tipped her head, puzzled. “I’m having a hard time myself,” she admitted.
“He couldn’t have accepted the appointment to West Point if he knew, not with their rules.” Alyssa met Cat’s gaze and drew a deep breath, half remorse, half resignation. “Cadets can’t be married or responsible for a child. And if Trent knew, he’d have insisted on marrying me, taking responsibility for us.” Visions of Trent’s hopeful excitement, the goals of a little boy lost finally attainable, danced in her brain as she remembered his joy at receiving the invitation to attend the esteemed military academy. “I couldn’t let him do that.”
“It was his job to do that,” Cat reminded her. “As the father, he had a duty to his child, his son. And for a guy like Trent, whose parents didn’t want him, fatherhood’s got to be a pretty big deal. He’s not like other guys.”
Alyssa had discovered that firsthand in Montana. Thoughts of Vaughn Maxwell’s temper taught her that all men weren’t created equal. And she was grateful to have kept Vaughn’s inner nature from Jaden during the short years they were together. Why hadn’t she seen through Vaughn’s facade sooner? What was she thinking? If she’d been honest with herself, she could have left before the unthinkable happened. But she’d stayed, leaving no one but herself to blame for the consequences.
Shame coursed through her again. “I don’t know how to make this right.”
Cat’s look said that wasn’t possible.
