Three
Much worse than a husband. Husbands could disappear. Kids stayed with you forever.
That one-night stand had meant less to her than he thought. She must’ve left him and run to the arms of some other lover.
Unless she was lying. What better way to get off the hook than to play the kid card?
His sharp laugh cut through the confusion. “You’re good, Deb. I have to give you that. You’re a pro.”
“Can you unbind my wrists?” She raised her arms behind her. “I didn’t expect you to believe me...at first.”
He strolled to the minibar and snatched a bottle of water from the fridge. He downed half of it in one gulp. He didn’t want her to see that she’d gotten to him for a minute.
“Unbind you so you can go for your gun? Claw my face off? Make a run for it?”
Her mouth curved up on one side. “You’re Loki. I’m not going anywhere. We both know that.”
“I’m impervious to flattery.”
“Since when?” She tipped her chin at the floor where he’d scattered the contents of her bag. “Then get my wallet. I have a picture of my son.”
He wished she’d stop saying that—it sounded so permanent. He slammed the plastic bottle on the credenza. Swooping down, he scooped up the wallet and flipped to the plastic inserts.
A teenaged Deb smiled at him, leaning over a chair, her arms around a grizzled African-American man—Robert, the man who’d taken her in after she’d run away from foster care. He flipped to the next picture and froze.
A towheaded toddler grinned while clutching the handlebars of a red tricycle. He flicked the edge of the picture. The kid didn’t even look like her. “This doesn’t prove anything.”
“Why would I carry a picture of a boy in my wallet? You know I don’t have any family, no nephews.”
“Doesn’t prove anything. Some wallets come with pictures already inserted. Is he even yours?”
“Look at the next picture.”
He swallowed as he stared at Deb wearing a hospital gown and cradling a baby. She looked...happy. “Congratulations. I’m sorry for doubting you. It looks like you really do have a child, but there’s nothing here to convince me Zendaris has him.”
“Well, at least you admitted I’m his mother. Zendaris has him. I’m telling the truth, Loki.”
“Stop—” he dropped the wallet on the bed next to her “—calling me that.”
“But I don’t know your real name. You never told me your real name.” She sniffled and her nose reddened.
She was sucking him in again. How was she playing the victim when she hadn’t wasted any time replacing him in her bed? Hell, she could’ve had a boyfriend when they’d hooked up.
If she’d lied about that, how did he know any of this story was true? The picture proved Deb had given birth, but for all he knew the boy could be safe with his father.
“Where is his father?”
She waved her hands. “Out of the picture.”
His pulse leapt. At least that was a plus. “I’m sorry if any of this is true, Deb. But if Zendaris has your son, you need to contact Prospero.”
Her shoulders sagged. “If I contact Prospero, Zendaris will kill him. You know he tried to do the same thing to one of my team members. He tried to kidnap Cade’s son, but Cade was able to protect his son.”
The tears ran unabated down her cheeks, and they were just about enough to convince Beau that her story was true. Nobody could fake the anguish he read in her face. And Deb Sinclair didn’t cry.
He secured his weapon and hers and sank onto the bed next to her. Reaching behind her back, he released her wrists.
She put her hands in her lap and rubbed the red creases on her skin, but the crying continued.
Slipping an arm around her shoulder, he pulled her flush against his side. Her head dropped to the hollow of his shoulder.
It felt good. He felt good.
“I’m sorry.” She rubbed her nose. “I don’t think I’ve cried since the day they snatched him. What’s the use of tears?”
She’d discovered early in life that tears didn’t solve anything. At least her crying seemed to soften Loki’s position.
And she hadn’t even had to tell him Bobby was his son.
When she’d heard his voice growl in her ear, hope and fear immediately began to war in her brain. Hope that Loki could help her, especially once she told him Zendaris had his son, too, and fear that he wouldn’t believe her and drag her back to Prospero.
If he did that, Bobby would die.
Now was not the time to tell him he had a son. How could she prove to him that Bobby was his anyway? The timing alone wouldn’t work. They’d had a one-night stand, and as incredible as it had been for her, he’d had no idea if she’d had a boyfriend or even a husband at that time. Just as she’d had no idea if he’d had a girlfriend or wife. Might even have one now.
He squeezed her closer. “Tell me what happened. How’d Zendaris get Bobby and what does he want? Not someone to rob jewelry stores for him?”
Deb smothered a hiccup with her hand. “One of his thugs impersonated Robert and kidnapped Bobby from daycare. After Robert’s death, I stupidly left him on the approved guardian list. When the man claiming to be Robert came to the daycare with ID, they released my son to him.”
She crossed her arms across her stomach. Whenever she went back to that day, she got physically ill.
“How long ago was this?”
“Almost a week ago.”
“You didn’t do a very good job of playing it cool. That’s exactly when Prospero pegged your unusual behavior. A little more digging and it was enough for them to call me in.”
“I couldn’t tell Prospero, couldn’t tell Jack. Zendaris warned me that if I called in the police or Prospero, he’d kill Bobby.” She ended on a sob despite her efforts to stop the waterworks.
“How did he contact you?”
“He left me a note at the daycare.” She pointed to the wallet. “May I?”
Loki may have offered her a shoulder to lean on, but his lean muscles were still coiled as if on high alert. She didn’t want to give him any reason to shoot her.
He nodded and she reached for the wallet. She plucked a folded piece of paper from the billfold and smoothed it out on her thigh. “The pretend Robert left this when he took Bobby.”
Leaning over, he read it aloud.
