Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Three

Sloan woke to the sunlight on her face. She opened her eyes and squinted at Jude sitting in a chair across the room, a screwdriver in his hand as he worked on something she couldn’t see. She sat up and rubbed at her eyes. “Do you ever sleep?”

“Not often. I never have.” He looked tired, though, the lines around his mouth and eyes deeper than they had been when she’d met him.

“What are you doing?”

“Repairing my roofing coil gun. Some of the shingles on the roof were blown off since I was here last, so I’ll need to get up there and replace them sometime today.”

Was there no end to what this man was capable of? He was deadly, could survive off the grid for who knew how long, and he was handy, too.

She resisted the urge to tell him to come to bed. If he did, the last thing they’d be doing was sleeping, and right now talking was more important. So Sloan tucked the sheet more tightly around her and propped her chin on her knees. “We need some sort of plan when it comes to the future. I don’t expect you to marry me.” He sent her a sharp look, which she pointedly ignored. “But there are things to consider. If you plan on being part of the baby’s life, then there needs to be some sort of schedule worked out. I need a job—”

“I can more than provide for anything you need.”

She ignored that, too. “All the same, I will be getting a job.” As he was so fond of telling her, Jude was no white knight. He might be willing to take care of her, but she wanted more than that for herself. Even if she didn’t, their relationship—such as it was—was already too unbalanced in some ways. She needed her independence, and if he didn’t respect that, this was going to end before it had a chance to begin.

For a moment, he looked like he might argue, but then he gave a short nod. “You want to work out the semantics.”

“Exactly.”

Jude paced a lap around the room and then stopped at the foot of the bed. “Tell me something. I get that you value your ability to hold your own, and that’s a respectable thing.”

She tensed. “I’m sensing a ‘but’ coming.”

“But because of who we are, our kid will be in danger from the moment he or she is born. Fuck, sunshine, the baby is in danger now and it’s barely the size of a lima bean. So you might as well give up on any dream involving white picket fences and the kind of lifestyle that involves deep roots. That shit doesn’t exist for people like us.”

“Why not?” She hated the look on his face when she asked the question, the look that said she should really be smarter than to challenge his assumption. She lifted her chin. “The world is a big place. Yes, I know it’s smaller than it used to be, but there’s no reason we couldn’t go somewhere where no one has heard of either the O’Malleys or the MacNamaras. It would require cutting all ties, but it’s still possible.” She pressed her lips together against the need to ask him why he couldn’t just leave it all behind. It wasn’t that simple. She knew it wasn’t that simple.

Except it was for her.

Sloan sighed and climbed off the bed. She dug through her suitcase and came up with a pair of yoga pants and a tank top. “My point is that I have a plan, fledgling that it is. You’re the one who appears to still be clinging to the past. Which is fine. I understand that some things are impossible to leave behind. But a future with me and a future where you’re still hunting down Colm Sheridan are, unfortunately, mutually exclusive.”

If he killed Colm, Callie would hunt him to the ends of the earth, just like he’d been doing to her family. She loved her father—apparently whatever issues Ronan had with the man, she hadn’t inherited them. Even with a baby on the way, Callie would be fierce in her need for vengeance. Jude would be fanning a flame that was almost out.

“You’re offering me an ultimatum.”

He would see it that way. She waited until she was dressed to continue. “No, I’m telling you the truth. You say that you’ll do whatever it takes to keep our child safe. In what world would creating another powerful enemy go hand in hand with his or her safety?” He still didn’t understand, whether willfully or genuinely. She took a breath. “You’re out. Whether you’re responsible for Ronan Sheridan’s death or not, whether Sorcha thinks you’re a danger or not, you’re out. As far as anyone is concerned, he drank too much and wrapped his car around a telephone pole, and no one is going to believe what that old woman says now that they know what her plans were. No one is hunting for an enemy to kill. If you hurt Colm, they will be. What did your family do to make Colm so mad all those years ago?”

“It’s not important.”

“Isn’t it?” She wanted to shake him until he saw things her way, but that would only make him dig in his heels deeper. She couldn’t force him, no matter how much she wanted to.

But that didn’t mean she would stand silently by. She’d done that most her life, and there was more at stake than there ever had been before. “Your father was the reason Moira Sheridan died. Think about that for a second. He hurt her, and Colm committed acts beyond forgiveness in retribution. Callie might be leaning toward making their power base as legal as it can be, but she’s just as ruthless as her father when she’s cornered—and, for all his faults, she loves him. He’s a good father to her. Do you think for a second that she won’t burn this world to the ground hunting down his killer? You’d be starting the cycle of vengeance over, and it would be the next generation that pays for our sins.” She headed for the door.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m incredibly tense and angry right now, and arguing more will accomplish about as much good as beating my head against a brick wall. I’m going to do yoga.” A pang went through her when she realized she’d never do yoga with Jessica again by the ocean. Another life left behind, this one just as bittersweet as Boston. She looked at Jude looming in the doorway. “Please move.”

He stepped aside without a word. Good. She was a fool and a half for thinking Jude would suddenly set aside everything he’d worked for just for her.

I set out planning to be alone. Now I’ll just have to plan to be alone with a baby.

What was she going to do as a single mother?

*  *  *

Jude changed into a pair of shorts and tennis shoes and went running. He couldn’t stand to be pent up in that house any longer, not with Sloan’s words ringing in his ears. She was asking him to change. No, that wasn’t right. She was very careful about not asking him to change. But she was demanding it of him all the same. He picked up speed, weaving between the trees.

Give up revenge.

Let Colm Sheridan have his happy life while my mother is rotting in the ground.

The thoughts didn’t bring their usual tidal wave of rage. He was…tired. So goddamn tired. The path lay before him, as clear as day. Dmitri Romanov was playing hardball and trying to force his hand in killing the remaining Sheridans. Several months ago, that wouldn’t have bothered him in the least. He would have shown up, killed Colm, and left Callista alive. Simple.

Now, it sat like a rock in his gut.

He couldn’t stop seeing Sloan, standing there unflinching in the face of his sins. She understood him. She…Fuck, he didn’t know. He’d been telling the truth when he said that they would be hunted if it was found out that she was pregnant with his child.

But she was right, too, in a way. No one knew he was responsible for Ronan’s death. Sorcha might suspect what he was about, but she couldn’t confirm it—and she had more important things to worry about if Callista was half as ruthless as Sloan claimed. He could leave, could take Sloan and their baby and…What? He couldn’t settle down in one place indefinitely. The thought made him feel like he was drowning, the sheer number of future years in the same place a weight on his head pushing him under. That wasn’t him. Kids needed stability, though. He didn’t know much about them, but he knew that.

It just didn’t fit.

If he had half a brain in his head, he’d write her a check and leave. It’d be the best thing he could do for that kid. Sloan was strong. She’d be okay.

Fuck that.

It might be the most selfish thing he’d ever done, but he couldn’t let them go. They were his. He’d never let anyone close enough to be his, not since his mother went the way of the angels. Who was to say they had to figure out all the dirty details now? He’d tell Sloan that he was in. He had to go to Boston to deal with Romanov’s threat, because if he was going to sacrifice his vengeance for Sloan, he had to make sure he wasn’t implicated in any murders in the meantime.

If he wasn’t going to kill Colm, he’d be damned before someone else did it in his name.

He didn’t know if Romanov realized Callista was pregnant, but he couldn’t hold his breath and hope the man would have enough morals not to kill a woman with child.

So he’d go to Boston and make sure he and Romanov were on the same page. Jude would have to find somewhere safe to stash Sloan for that—and he had no illusions about how difficult it would be to convince her to stay there—but he’d figure out a way around this mess.

And after…After, they’d find somewhere to hunker down—maybe here—for the next nine months. See if they could really make a go of it without wanting to kill each other. After she had the baby, then they’d come up with a plan for their future.

His revenge had waited over thirty years. It could wait one more.

Maybe it could wait forever.

He turned for the house, taking the road back and looking for signs that someone else besides he and Sloan had passed. Last night it had been hard to tell. The house wasn’t tampered with, and he’d let himself get distracted with fucking Sloan instead of doing a perimeter check. He’d dropped the ball then, but he wasn’t about to make a habit of it.

The bushes lining the middle of the dirt road had been beaten down, but it was hard to say if that was from his vehicle or another. His housekeeper took a different route, something he’d specifically requested. If a stranger was on this island looking for him, they’d come this way, not the little path only known to locals.

Sloppy. Just fucking sloppy all around.

He’d have to do a more thorough check after he talked to Sloan, but the problem with not trusting anyone enough to tell them where his residences were located was that he didn’t have anyone he could call in as backup. He’d never needed help before. He was the very definition of a lone wolf, and that was a strength when it came to his business and his plans. There was no need for extra muscle because the only one he had to worry about was himself.

That wasn’t true anymore.

He picked up his pace, damn near sprinting down the road. There was no reason to think Sloan was in danger, but he couldn’t shake the belief that if he didn’t get her in his line of sight immediately, something terrible would happen.

Jude burst out of the trees and ran around the side of the house, slowing only when he saw Sloan doing some weird-ass pose with her head on the ground and her legs posed carefully on her elbows. He looked around, but no threat burst out of the surroundings.

You are freaking the fuck out.

The idea of going completely off the grid was suddenly appealing. He could provide for them indefinitely, and he wouldn’t have to worry about Stefan giving away his location to Dmitri if there wasn’t some sort of grid to connect to.

Sloan carefully touched her feet to the ground, slid seamlessly into downward dog, and then stood. “Is something wrong?”

Everything. He’d always had a plan, had his feet firmly on the ground and his head on straight. Now, up was down and down was up. Nothing made sense anymore. Jude scrubbed a hand over his face. “I think we should leave.”

Instantly, she was on alert. “Did someone find us?”

“Not yet.”

She frowned. “I don’t think I understand.”

“I don’t trust anyone to keep you safe but me, and this place has too many ways in to be totally secure.” Even if he could secure it, he couldn’t leave her here alone while he went to Boston. Not only was it impossible to lock down, but if she needed help, she was too isolated for it to get to her in time. Didn’t think this through. “We need to find a better one.”

“No.”

“The fuck do you mean, ‘no’?” He sounded crazy and he knew it, which only served to piss him off. “You said you wanted a plan—”

“And I do. A realistic plan. And the reality is that I’m pregnant.” She touched her stomach, and his heart stuttered a little. Sloan visibly braced herself. “Going off the grid is impossible. Even if this is a textbook pregnancy and nothing goes wrong requiring ultrasounds or other tests, are you planning on delivering this baby and providing aftercare? What if the baby has a health condition requiring a hospital? What if I do? No.” She shook her head. “Going off the grid is out of the question.”

She presented valid points. They didn’t change his desire to wrap her up and take her somewhere where nothing bad would ever touch her. He lifted his hands, and then let them fall to his sides. “Well, fuck. You have me at a loss, sunshine. I want you. I want this. But hell if I know how.”

“We’ll figure it out.” She crossed to him and slid into his arms. “Together.”