Having Her: Lies We Tell, Book 2 (23 page)

She couldn’t stop looking at him. His face was relaxed in sleep and without its usual stern expression he looked so much younger. More approachable.

His mouth was curved slightly, hinting at a smile.

She hadn’t seen that smile much. Most of the time he was so disapproving and stern. Even when she’d been younger and she and Ellie had first become friends, Vin had been the unsmiling, parental figure. No, they couldn’t have their music turned up loud. No, they couldn’t have one of his beers. No, they couldn’t go into town after dark. Always the buzz kill, that was Vin.

She’d resented him then, taking on Ellie’s own annoyance with his constant boundary setting. Thinking he took the whole father-figure thing way too far. But it must have been hard as a teenage boy. To have to bring up your little sister by yourself. No wonder he always looked so damn grim.

Yet he wasn’t like that all the time. She remembered his smile yesterday as she’d sat astride him naked, a lazy hand in her hair. When he’d given her a collar for her birthday. A collar she’d taken off because stupid girls who got themselves accidentally pregnant didn’t deserve nice things like that, did they?

Neither did they deserve pleasure with their pain. Or to be allowed to cry. Or to have someone wash them, dress them, wrap them up in strong arms and hold them while they slept…

Her eyes stung as she watched his beautiful face. As the ache in her heart clenched so tight she thought it might be crushed entirely.

She’d never been in love before but she had a horrible feeling she might be in love now.

And naturally, that was the moment Vin’s eyes opened, catching hers.

She didn’t want to blush but her skin didn’t listen. “Oh, you’re awake.” She made herself hold his gaze. “Good morning.”

He blinked. “What time is it?”

“Uh…eight, I think.”

With a muffled curse, he sat up, scrubbing a hand through his dark hair. As he did so, she caught a glimpse of the scrapes on his knuckles, another reminder of the night before. And still the shame and humiliation she should be feeling didn’t come. There was only worry, for him.

His hand slowed and she realized she was staring. Well, too bad if he saw. “You get into a fight or something?” she asked, glancing at his hand.

“Something like that.” His gaze dropped to her neck, noting the bruises, blue eyes darkening. “Those are from me, aren’t they?”

“Yeah. But it’s okay. They don’t hurt this morning.” At least not enough to cause her too much discomfort.

His gaze kept going down her body. “You’re never going to be normal dressed like that,” he murmured with his usual bluntness.

Her words from the night before. Again she braced herself for the tide of embarrassment.

Vin lifted his gaze back to hers. “But I think you know that, don’t you?” And there was no condemnation in his eyes. No judgment.

She swallowed and oddly enough there was only an echo of embarrassment that caught at her. Only a small twinge. A reflex. He’d seen everything last night. There really wasn’t any more to her he could have seen. “Yeah, maybe I do.”

He let out a breath, leaned back against the couch, studying her. “So the weird hair, the clothes, it’s your armor, isn’t it? A way to keep everyone at a distance.”

Man, he saw so much. Too much. “Probably.”

“Probably?” One dark eyebrow rose.

“All right, so it is. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to protect yourself.”

“From what?”

“From other people’s crap.”

“No, nothing wrong with that.” He was silent a minute, his gaze drifting down her body once more. “You know, I used to think you looked weird. And you still do. But you’re so damn hot with it.”

Her cheeks heated and it wasn’t embarrassment she felt this time but pleasure. She was freaking pleased he’d noticed, for God’s sake. Kara stuck her hands in the back pockets of her shorts, shifting uncomfortably on her feet. “Well, thanks.”

A small silence fell.

“What happened last night, baby?” he asked. “Why do you have to hurt yourself like that?”

She’d been expecting the question but not the gentleness in his rough voice, and it made her feel even more uncomfortable. “I’m not…not your baby.”

“Tell me, Kara.”

“It’s just…something I used to do when I was sixteen. You know, typical emo teenage stuff. I always was a drama queen.”

“No,” he said, and abruptly sat forward. “Don’t minimize it. Don’t dismiss it like that.” He reached out and grabbed her wrist before she could stop him, turning it outward. The scars along it were so obvious she almost jerked her hand away, wanting to hide it. “There’s nothing funny about cutting yourself with a razor.”

She didn’t want to talk about it. Didn’t trust that gentle note in his voice. Last night, he’d seen her stripped of her defenses. Laid bare. Crying like a child.

But nothing bad happened, right? He drained the poison and took care of you.

Her heart felt tight and full. Yeah, he had. What he’d given her last night had been far more effective than any razor. More powerful than pain. And that deserved recognition. She owed him.

You love him.

Jesus, that too. But that was something she couldn’t deal with right now so she let him hold her wrist, trace the scars with his finger. Then she said, “My life was fairly shitty when I was a kid. I was in foster care a lot.”

He didn’t look at her, thank God. As if he knew this confession needed privacy. “How come?”

“Oh, my mum was a single parent. She worked three jobs in order to support me and my brother and my sister. Meant she had to leave us at home by ourselves, sometimes for days. Then she’d come home and hit the bottle.”

“What about your dad?”

“I never knew him.”

His fingers tightened almost imperceptibly on her wrist. “So what happened?”

It shouldn’t have been hard, after all, it had happened years ago. But still, getting the words out was difficult. “Mum worked all the time so I used to look after the other two. I tried really hard to make sure they both looked cared for because Mum was terrified we’d get taken by social services. But one day…I dunno, I think I was so worried about Liam and Rose that I must have neglected myself. Anyway, one of the teachers at school asked me if I was okay and whether things at home were okay. I said I was fine, that everything was good, but then she started asking me about Mum. About my brother and sister. Long story, but eventually social services were called. And we were taken into care.” It should have been good for everyone. But it wasn’t.

Vin’s finger stroked along one scar, back and forth. He didn’t say anything, staring at the movement of his finger. But she knew he was listening. “We got split up. Sent to different homes. I was able to stay in touch with them, but then Mum got solvent, gave up the drink and requested them back.” This was the hard part. “At least she asked for my brother and my sister.” She stopped. Even now it hurt, though she told herself it didn’t.

“And you?” Vin kept his gaze on his finger.

“No,” she said hoarsely. “I’d aged out of the system by then, but Mum didn’t want me to come home. She said I’d ‘disrupt’ Rose and Liam from settling back in and it was best if I kept my distance. I believed her at the time. It wasn’t until later that I realized she was punishing me for breaking up the family.”

“Kara.” His hand closed around her wrist, gently holding. “What happened to you?”

“In foster care? Nothing much. Just a series of families I never fit in with. Never wanted to fit in with, to be honest.”

“And the cutting?”

She pulled her wrist out of his grip. “I don’t want to talk about this, Vin. It’s not important.”

“Bullshit it isn’t. If it wasn’t important I wouldn’t have caught you last night with a razor in your hands.”

“Don’t worry, I saw enough psychologists to last a lifetime. It’s just my way of handling the guilt. And Mum’s rejection. Yeah, I lost it last night and I’m sorry you had to see it, but I haven’t felt that way for over ten years.”

“So what was different about last night?”

“Uh, the tiny matter of me being pregnant might have had something to do with it.”

Vin looked at her and she knew he saw through the bravado. He always had. “Yeah, you’re pregnant with my baby. Which means if I catch you cutting again, so help me I will not be responsible for the consequences. If you want pain, you come to me and we’ll do something about it. But no razors. That’s over now. Understand?”

She looked away as another part of her gave itself up to him. “Yes. I understand.”

“Good. And as to the pregnancy, we both had a hand in it, Kara. It’s my fault too.”

“I know. But neither of us asked for this.”

“Whether we asked for it or not is irrelevant. The real question is what we do about it.” Vin pushed himself up and off the couch in a swift, determined movement. “I’ll give it to you straight. I won’t ever abandon this child. Understand?”

His vehemence, not to mention his certainty, took her aback. Then again, knowing Vin as she did, she should have expected it. “Won’t ever? You sound pretty certain about that.”

“I am certain. I know all about fathers walking out on their kids, and it’s not something I’d ever do.”

Well, he probably would know, given his and Ellie’s background. Her friend had told her a little about their father who had given up on them and their mother who needed to be committed every now and then, but Kara had never questioned her deeply about it. Hell, she never wanted to talk about her family crap, why would anyone else want to talk about theirs?

“That’s good to know. But you’re assuming I’m keeping it.” She hadn’t made any kind of decision yet, and she said it partly just to test the idea out, see how it sounded to her own ears because all options had to be considered. But she didn’t like the sound of it. At all.

Vin’s eyes narrowed. “You won’t?”

Get rid of her child.

The way Mum got rid of you.

No damn way.

The decision settled down inside her like a stone settling onto the bottom of a lake. Heavy, immovable. This would be hard and she would struggle, no doubt about it. But she wouldn’t let this child be the scapegoat for her own mistake or let it carry the burden of blame.

Maybe she couldn’t have normal, but she could make her own version of it.

Kara met his gaze. “Actually, I think I will. Keep it, that is.”

Vin wasn’t surprised. Smart, stubborn Kara—who never let a challenge go unmet—fail at this particular hurdle? No way.

She stood there all tough and weird, and goddamned sexy in her shorts and stockings get-up. Looking as if she wanted to take on the world and tell it go and sort its shit out.

Looking as if she could do anything.

It was a very convincing facade. Yet he knew that underneath all that toughness and snark, was a fragile, vulnerable woman. A woman who’d been hurt and hurt still. And no wonder given what she’d just told him about her childhood. About her mother.

It made him angry just thinking about it. And the fact that he’d joined in the hurting of her made him angrier still.

He’d hated to do what he had the night before because he’d never got off on hurting people. But he’d seen the pain in her eyes the moment he’d caught her with that razor, the naked anguish on her face. The desperation. She’d been at rock bottom and he couldn’t walk away from her. Protecting people was such an innate part of him that walking away right then wasn’t an option.

He didn’t know what had driven her to that point, what made her want to find relief in pain. But one thing he did know was that she didn’t deserve it. And that she should have more than pain.

He hadn’t been expecting her to fall apart so completely at the end. But he was glad she had because he thought she needed to. And was glad that he’d been there to hold her. Take care of her. Because she needed that too. In fact she needed someone to look after her more often.

Vin stared at her, conscious of the relief that swept through him. He may not ever have intended to have a child but now he was, giving it up or getting rid of it was not an option. “I hope you’re not assuming you’re going to do this alone.”

“I hope you’re not assuming you can just take charge.”

Well, shit, of course that’s what he wanted to do. But he wasn’t her master here. And with Kara, you couldn’t assume anything. “No, of course not.”

“Okay then. So neither am I.”

“Fine. What are your plans in that case?”

She frowned. “I don’t have any right now.”

“Why not?”

“Why not? Jesus, Vin. I’ve only just made the decision to keep it.”

“Then you’ll need to start thinking about what you’re going to do then, won’t you? About where you’re going to live. About how you’re going to manage.”

Her frown became a scowl. “Stop being so damn order-y. I’m only five weeks along, if that. We’ve got plenty of time to work all that crap out. And don’t forget, lots of miscarriages happen in the first twelve weeks. No point making plans for something that may not even work out.”