Echo: A Linear Tactical Romantic Suspense Standalone Page 10

  “Jessica. Jess. My daughter’s name is Jess.”

  “I know.”

  “Why didn’t you do something about it then, Cecelia? Tell me and let me do something about it?”

  “By what? Admitting our guilt? She could cost this family millions of dollars, not to mention your reputation in Nashville.”

  “I don’t care about my fucking reputation, Cecelia. We ruined Peyton’s life. Took away the future she’d been planning since she was old enough to know what a camera was.”

  “I helped out in other ways.”

  “By offering to let her clean the house?”

  “Amongst other things. I pay her handsomely for her services.”

  Cade had to get out of here before he did something he would regret for the rest of his life. He turned away. But turned back at the sound of boxes falling to the ground. Cecelia had thrown them to the ground, angrier than he’d ever seen her.

  “I did what I thought was best to protect this family. I’m not perfect, I understand that. But I refuse to allow someone from the Ward family to sully the O’Conner name. Not again.”

  “Again?”

  Cecelia shook her head. “We have no proof that the child is even yours, no matter how similar the features. Don’t go admitting your guilt. She might take advantage of it. You have too much at stake.”

  One thing was for sure; Cecelia was right about him having too much at stake. But not in the way she meant.

  Cade turned back toward the door without another word. The more time he spent here, the more time he was wasting. The only thing that mattered now was making things right with Peyton.

  And if she could find it in herself to forgive and let him get to know the daughter he never knew he had.

  Chapter 14

  Peyton sat on her couch clutching a cup of coffee between her hands for warmth even though it was a mild September day. She glanced out her window, which was much smaller in size and didn’t have nearly the view Cade’s writing cave had.

  But it was hers, damn it. This whole house, tiny as it was with three bedrooms and one bath, was hers. She’d never once been late on a mortgage payment, even though it had occasionally meant extra shifts at Fancy Pants.

  She took a sip of her coffee, not caring that it was mid-afternoon and there were other things she should be doing. Jess wouldn’t be home for another couple of hours. Riley was going to pick her up and take her by to see baby Thomas before bringing her home.

  Because Peyton was supposed to have been working all day on the film.

  Not anymore.

  She’d have to get up and call Riley, as soon as she had the energy to go get her phone out of her purse on the kitchen table. Which may be never.

  She should at least be glad that Cade didn’t seem to have any intention of demanding the ten thousand dollars back. She’d spent that money on medical bills, and just surviving, long ago.

  She’d slapped him. No matter what, she shouldn’t have done that. But to phrase the question that way—why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant?

  Not, why didn’t you tell me you decided to go through with the pregnancy? Or why didn’t you tell me you changed your mind?

  To imply she’d never told him about the pregnancy at all had sent a fury through her. She’d slapped him before she’d even been aware she was going to do it.

  Riley would undoubtedly approve. Or maybe even berate Peyton for not using her fist rather than an open palm.

  Cade hadn’t gotten mad. He’d just looked confused. Or looked more confused.

  Evidently, the thought that she might have carried the baby to term, despite instructions otherwise, had never even occurred to him. That was if he’d ever actually thought of her at all.

  She didn’t care. As long as he wasn’t sending his lawyers after her, suing her for breach of contract, she had no reason to think about Cade O’Conner whatsoever.

  A knock on the door startled her; her heart stuttered in her chest. Nobody knew she was home right now.

  Except Cade.

  She set down her coffee on the kitchen counter as she passed, rolling her eyes when the knocking came again, louder this time.

  “Okay, O’Conner, hold your horses—” She pulled open the door and found her mother standing there.

  “Mama? What are you doing here?” Peyton held the door open with her foot as her mother breezed inside. She loved the woman, but talking to her always tended to be emotionally taxing and exhausting.

  “Hi, baby. Kisses. . .” Renee smiled, kissing Peyton on the cheek.

  Peyton breathed in deeply to try to see if she could catch the scent of alcohol on Renee. Over the years, Renee had become a professional at hiding the smell, but Peyton had become a professional at detecting it. Right now, she could smell it, but only faintly. Which meant Renee had been drinking at some point that day, but not so much that it had taken over.

  “You doing okay, Mom?”

  “Oh good, sweetie, good. I don’t suppose that little angel is home now, is she? I want to hug my sweetums.” The gushing was just her mom, no alcohol needed. Drinking or not, Renee loved Jess.

  “No, she’s at school then is going to visit Charlie and baby Thomas.”

  “Oh, that’s too bad. I love that little sweetums.” Renee rubbed her arms with her hands.

  Peyton narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing her mother’s words and actions more closely. She hadn’t smelled much alcohol, but the way her mother was flitting about and repeating herself made Peyton wonder if she’d misjudged.

  “Mom, come over here and sit down. You need to tell me, have you been drinking?” They both knew the rule. Renee wasn’t allowed in the house if she’d been drinking, especially not if Jess was home. The kid was way too observant not to realize something was different about her beloved Granny.

  Renee sat down at the table and put her head in her hands. “I promise, I only had one drink. . .” She looked up at Peyton and immediately corrected herself, “A couple of drinks. It was earlier today, and I stopped. I promise.”

  Both of them knew Renee never had just one drink. And earlier today could mean many things too.

  “How did you get here? Did you drive?”

  Renee shook her head rapidly. “No. No. Kitty Wilks was coming into Oak Creek, and I caught a ride with her.”

  Peyton wanted to believe her mother. Renee always tried to keep her addiction to alcohol from getting the best of her, especially since what happened with Dennis, which had almost cost Peyton her life. But still, it was a daily struggle. Peyton turned back to the kitchen. “Do you want a cup of coffee or something to eat?”

  “No, I’m fine. Really. But I would like for you to come down here and sit with me. I need to talk to you about something.”

  Peyton tightened her grip on her mug. Talking with Renee about something—particularly something that required Peyton to sit down—was hardly ever good. She refilled her coffee before walking to the table. She was going to need it.

  As soon as she sat, Renee grabbed her hands. “First, tell me how things are going with you. I haven’t seen you in a while. You look a little sad.”

  She was so not getting into this with Renee. Peyton had never shared her problems with her mother—especially since Peyton was the one who’d been more of a mother for years. Renee didn’t even know Cade was Jess’s father.

  Even without the nondisclosure agreement, Peyton wasn’t sure she would’ve told her mother that.

  “I’m doing fine. Jess loves her new school, and it’s challenging her in all the best ways. Everything’s fine.”

  “Well good, that’s good.” Renee tapped her fingernails against the table until Peyton finally reached over and grabbed her hand.

  “What’s going on? Just tell me.”

  Renee looked bleakly at Peyton. “It’s Dennis. They’re giving him early parole.”

  Peyton let go of her hand as she jerked back from the table. “What?”

  Renee reached for her, but Peyton scooted back. “I know, honey, I know. He wasn’t supposed to be up for parole this early, but you know how everything is with over-crowding and everything.”

  Peyton sucked her breath in and out, fighting to keep her panic in check. Dennis was getting out of prison. She thought it would be another year or two before she had to deal with this.

  “Honey, as part of his parole, he has to honor the restraining orders we placed against him.”

  Peyton flinched, the circumstances surrounding that order crystal clear in her memory. It was a miracle she hadn’t miscarried.

  “If he comes near you even once, he’ll go right back to prison. And this time, he’ll have to serve his entire sentence.” Renee reached across the table to try to take Peyton’s hand again, but Peyton stood. She didn’t want to be touched right now.

  “When does he actually get out?” She walked to the sink and poured her coffee down the drain. She didn’t want it now.

  “Sometime coming up. That’s all I know.”

  Peyton gripped the counter and silently looked out the window over the sink. How much more emotional turmoil could this day hold?

  “Come on, Mama, I’ll drive you home. I’ve got to get back to work.” Not exactly the truth, but true enough. She needed to call Violet at Fancy Pants and see if there were any shifts she could pick up while Jess was at school.

  Since now her days were pretty empty.

  “Okay. Thank you, honey.”

  Peyton let out a small sigh. It hadn’t even occurred to Renee to have an arrangement for how she’d get back home when she’d caught a ride here. That was her mother. She lived in a world where she ignored anything requiring too much thought or effort or unpleasantness.

  Or having a husband who abused both her and her daughter.

  Peyton had long since given up trying to figure out how her mother’s mind worked. The best she could do was to make sure she didn’t ever put her own daughter in that position.

  She bundled her mom into the car and got her home safely. They didn’t say much on the drive, both of them preoccupied with their own thoughts.

  “Even out of jail, he’ll have to stay in Cheyenne,” Renee muttered as Peyton walked with her inside the house. “That’s what the police officer who called me said. Dennis will have to check in with the parole officer regularly.”

  How often was regularly? Unless it was once every few hours, Dennis would still have time to make the five-hour drive between Cheyenne and Oak Creek without the parole officer being any wiser.

  And even if he did have to check in every day, how long would that last? Certainly not forever.

  Peyton didn’t share any of these thoughts with her mother. Renee was barely holding it together as it was.

  “Mom, all we can do is take each day as it comes. Don’t let this make you fall off the wagon. You’re stronger than that.”

  “No, I’m not, but you are. You always have been. Just because you were quiet didn’t mean you weren’t strong. Dennis thought you were weak, but I always knew the truth, baby.”

  “Thanks, Mama.” Peyton leaned her forehead against Renee’s. She might never have been a great mother when it came to protection, but Peyton had always known her mother loved her.

  “You sure you don’t want to tell me what’s bothering you? I can be a good listener, you know.”

  For a brief moment, Peyton was tempted to let Renee be the mother just once.

  But that wasn’t going to solve anything.

  Renee sat down on the couch and Peyton looked around, not wanting to leave her mother if she was going to struggle with the fears inside her mind and use booze to try to soothe them. Peyton didn’t see any bottles lying about, which was a good sign, but didn’t necessarily mean the coast was clear. As a teenager, she’d once caught her mother taping a gin bottle on the inside of the toilet box.

  “Cade O’Conner came by here last week looking for you.”

  Peyton froze. She hadn’t expected that from her mom. And she’d called him, O’Conner, not Conner, his stage name.

  “Cade and I went to high school together for one year.”

  “I used to know his aunt Cecelia.”

  “You did? I didn’t know that.”

  “Your dad knew her better. They went to high school together and dated a little bit. Then I moved to town, and he started dating me instead. She wasn’t happy about it, but he was never serious about her.”

  “I had no idea.” Peyton winked at her mom. “You heartbreaker.”

  Renee gave her a huge smile, and for a brief moment, Peyton could see the woman her mother had been twenty-five years ago. Bright and happy with her whole life ahead of her. Before Peyton’s father had died, leaving Renee with a preschooler and few skills. Before she’d married Dennis.

  Not at all like the woman she normally knew as her mother—the one on which alcohol and abuse and stress had taken a heavy toll.

  “Anyway, Cade asked why you never went to film school.”

  “And what did you tell him?”

  “That he’d have to ask you that.”

  Peyton ran her fingers along the top of the couch. “Yeah. He knew I was supposed to go to London. Evidently, the fact I didn’t go came as a shock to him.”

  “I know I haven’t been a great mother. . .”

  “Mama, don’t start. You did the best with what—”

  “Not like you’re a great mother to Jess.” Renee grabbed her hand as she walked by. “But I want you to know. . .I’m not blind. I immediately recognized the resemblance between Jess and Cade. Jess’s blue eyes. It’s like looking at a little mini-replica of his.”

  Peyton couldn’t talk about this. Not today, after everything. “I’ve got to go, Mom.”

  Renee let go of her arm. “You don’t have to talk to me about it. And I’m not going to say anything, not that anyone would believe me if I did.”

  “It’s a complicated situation. And I can’t talk about it.”

  Emotionally or legally.

  “That’s fine. Remember, I love you, and you’re a good mother. And that Jess is yours and has never lacked for anything.”

  Tears filled Peyton’s eyes. She kissed the top of Renee’s head. “Let me know if you hear anything else about Dennis. And be strong, Mama. Watch your shows and eat ice cream. Don’t drink.”

  “Okay.”

  What a day. Peyton almost stopped by Fancy Pants to talk to Violet but decided to go straight home. Maybe she would eat some ice cream of her own.

  An unfamiliar truck parked outside her house spiked her awareness. It wasn’t Riley or any of the Linear guys. She had to remind herself that Dennis was still in jail, at least for the time being.

  And if he showed up, he wouldn’t be driving a new-looking pickup truck.

  Then she saw someone sitting on her front porch step.

  Cade.

  Chapter 15

  Shit.

  Peyton wanted to grab the nearest spoon and literally carve out the part of her that was excited to see him. How stupid could she possibly be? When would she learn the man wasn’t good for her?

  She parked her car and took a deep breath. She could handle this. Whatever it was he wanted, she could handle it.

  He stood as she approached—always the gentleman—but it didn’t take more than a glance at his face to see that it was downright haggard. He’d already looked a little rougher than usual earlier today from the time he’d spent locked away writing.

  But now he looked like he’d been to war. And had barely survived.

  “Cade,” she whispered. “Are you okay?”

  She couldn’t imagine anything bad enough to make him look like this.

  He shook his head and gave a laugh that held no humor whatsoever. “You’re asking me if I’m okay?”

  What did that mean? “Um, yeah. You look a little upset.”

  He ran his fingers through his dark hair, standing it on end. “A little bit upset doesn’t even begin to cover it.” He reached down and picked up a folder.

  Legal papers. That wasn’t good.

  “Did you change your mind about the money? Do you want me to pay it back?” She tried not to let the panic swallow her. Coming up with ten thousand dollars would take her months, especially if she needed to make some changes to ensure her safety if Dennis decided to return to the area.

  She rubbed her hand over her eyes.

  Keep it together. Talk to him. Work something out.

  She wasn’t sure exactly what her legal recourses were, or his. She didn’t want to get sued.

  She turned away to look out at the trees and give herself a chance to pull herself together. She refused to have a breakdown in front of Cade.

  “Peyton.”

  “Look.” She didn’t turn back around, trying to pretend indifference. “I don’t have that kind of cash lying around.”

  “Peyton.”

  God damn her own traitorous body that even now—even now—reacted to the sound of his deep voice saying her name. Her brain interpreted it as being soft, gentle. Like he wanted to care for her and protect her.

  When he was really here to do more damage.

  You know what? God damn him, too.

  “Just leave, Cade. I don’t have the money, so have your lawyers contact me or whatever.”

  “Damn it, Peyton, I’m not here for the money!”

  Now she spun around. “Then what are you here for?” God, her fingers itched to slap him again. What was it about this man that always brought her fire to the surface? No one else on the planet came close to doing that.

  He recognized the violence in her. “You want to hit me again?”

  “Maybe.”

  He actually took a step closer. “Could I talk you into using your fist this time?”

  “What?”

  “Maybe a good right hook from you might make both of us feel better. God knows, I deserve it. I deserve anything you want to say to me. Any punishment you could think to dole out.” Those blue eyes were bleak again. Tortured.

  “Why are you here, Cade?” The words were barely more than a whisper.