When I Found You by Brenda Novak

Fifteen

When pounding on the front door woke Natasha, she realized two things at once: Mack never made it to the couch, and she had company.

With a yawn, she lifted her head. Mack seemed to be sleeping through the racket. She wasn’t surprised. He’d always lived with at least one brother, was conditioned to noise. She remembered what the Amos household had been like when she lived there. It had been nothing short of chaotic.

She needed to answer the door before whoever it was woke Lucas. But as she got up and grabbed her robe, she caught sight of the clock on her makeshift nightstand. Surprisingly, it was after nine—not as early as she’d thought.

As soon as the time registered, she had little hope that Lucas would continue sleeping, and sure enough, she heard his voice the very next instant. “Mommy? Can I answer the door?”

Since she was coming, she gave him permission so that whoever it was wouldn’t knock again. Maybe Mack, at least, could sleep a little longer.

But as she started down the stairs, she heard a voice that made her blood run cold. “Who owns the truck in the drive, Lucas?”

Ace’s mother! “Peggy?” Natasha said before Lucas could answer, tying the belt on her robe as she hurried down the last few steps. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s our weekend with Lucas, isn’t it?” she asked as though Natasha should’ve been expecting them.

Spotting Mack’s T-shirt on the floor, Natasha used one foot to kick it to the side before Peggy saw it and rested her hands on her son’s small shoulders to keep him next to her. With her hair falling about her face in a tangled mess, she had no doubt it was apparent she’d just rolled out of bed, which would make her look lazy in comparison to her in-laws, who were always up at the crack of dawn. Not only had Peggy had her hair and nails done recently, she also had her makeup on and her clothing looked as though it’d just seen an iron, even though it was supposed to be casualwear.

Fortunately, Blake wasn’t standing beside her. He was still behind the steering wheel of their large Mercedes sedan. It sat at the curb in front of the house, and he kept lowering his head to look at them.

“It’s not your weekend. It’s Ace’s weekend,” Natasha clarified. “But he never came last night.”

Peggy was tall, which made it easy for her to look down her nose at Natasha. “Because he couldn’t,” she said simply.

He couldn’t? Or he wouldn’t? Were Peggy and Blake, once again, stepping up to do something one of their sons should’ve done? From what Natasha had seen since marrying into the family, they filled in a lot. “But he didn’t even return my text messages or my phone calls,” she said. “He didn’t tell me you were coming.”

“Can you blame him for ignoring you?” she asked. “Can you imagine what he must be going through after learning you had an affair with your stepbrother?”

Natasha tried not to let a sudden burst of anger make her hands tighten on Lucas’s shoulders. He didn’t need to be privy to an argument. “First of all, I never had an affair with anyone,” she said, keeping her tone as measured as possible. “I was loyal to your son throughout our marriage. And second, Mack isn’t my stepbrother. He’s not related to me in any way. We didn’t even meet until he was twenty-five.”

“His father married your mother, didn’t he? What about that part? And the part where you were just sixteen when you went to live with him?”

“What, exactly, are you accusing me of?”

To her credit, Peggy’s gaze dipped to Lucas, who was staring up at her, transfixed by the pique in her voice, which wasn’t something he’d heard very often. Peggy went to great lengths to be the ideal mother to her boys and grandmother to Lucas, typically tried to pretend all was well even when it wasn’t—like when Natasha’s marriage to Ace began to crumble. “I’m saying we’re extremely disappointed in what we’ve learned. That you could mislead us the way you have—”

“I never misled anyone,” Natasha interrupted. “Ace and I weren’t exclusive until several months into my pregnancy. If you’ll remember, he was still seeing his ex-girlfriend, Rhonda Coates, until I was nearly four months along.”

“Doesn’t matter,” she insisted. “You should’ve told him you’d been with someone else around the time Lucas was conceived.”

In Natasha’s mind, it hadn’t mattered. She and her baby came as a package. Any man she married would have to accept them that way. And Ace had been the one pursuing her. It wasn’t as if she’d been trying to convince him to make that commitment. “He never asked. I admit the thought crossed my mind, but I figured some things were better off left unsaid for the sake of our marriage, which fell apart anyway, but—” Natasha heard movement behind her and whipped around. When she saw Mack coming down the stairs, wearing only his jeans and a steely look on his face, she felt her heart sink.

“Do you want a weekend with your grandson or not?” he asked Peggy. “Because if you do, I suggest you go back and wait in your car, and we’ll bring him out when he’s ready.”

Peggy gaped at Mack, her mouth opening and closing twice with only a short puff of air coming out each time. It was obvious that he’d just climbed out of bed—and the way Peggy’s gaze suddenly focused on Natasha’s neck, she could guess it was Natasha’s bed.

Natasha wished Mack would’ve let her handle this, but she knew none of the Amos brothers ever shied away from a fight. They always had each other’s back—and, if she was around, they had hers, too.

“So you’re together, then?” Peggy asked when she finally found her voice. “Or just screwing each other like you’ve probably been doing since you were sixteen?”

Natasha was stunned Peggy would say something like that in front of Lucas. So many retorts went through her mind, but Mack answered before she could. “It sounds like you might be a little too upset to take Lucas this weekend,” he said. “Why don’t we plan it for another time?”

“What’d you say?” Peggy asked, so shocked her voice squeaked on the last word.

“You heard me. I won’t have you making derogatory comments about his mother. Let us know when you’re willing to behave in an appropriate manner.”

Natasha doubted Peggy had ever been criticized for being inappropriate. She considered herself a modern-day authority on good manners.

“Come on, Lucas,” Peggy said. “Get your stuff. We’re leaving.”

Mack stepped around Lucas. “Maybe you didn’t hear me.”

“Natasha?” she said, ignoring him. “Don’t tell me you’re going to allow this.”

“Of course I’m going to allow it,” Natasha said. “Because Mack’s right. I haven’t done anything wrong.”

Lucas wrinkled his nose as he looked up at them. “So I’m staying here with you? Are we going to play with my new basketball hoop, Mack?”

“We sure are,” Mack said, and Natasha sagged in relief when Lucas seemed perfectly content with that, because Peggy couldn’t have hurried away from them any faster if they’d been holding a gun.

The closest coffee shop, a place called The Daily Grind, was busy, but Mack had said Natasha would feel better just getting out of the house, and he was right. He’d put the basketball hoop up in Lucas’s room while she showered, and they’d all left together about an hour after their confrontation with Ace’s mother.

“You okay?” Mack asked once the barista had called his name and he’d put Luke’s hot chocolate in front of him before handing her the coffee she’d ordered.

“I’m fine.” She slid her phone under the table so that he wouldn’t see the text that had just come in from Ace, who’d said he couldn’t believe she’d treat his mother so poorly and that she couldn’t deny them the right to see Lucas—it was in the custody agreement. She wasn’t going to mention it to Mack. She figured she’d deal with it later, didn’t want this thing between her and her ex to turn into all-out war.

Mack seemed to measure her response. “Are you mad at me for getting involved when Ace’s mother came this morning?”

She was more angry at herself for going back to bed with him than anything else. He was the only man she’d slept with, besides Ace, in eight years. Why had she done that? Why him? There were other men who would probably be interested, if she gave them a chance. Mr. Burns had been hemming and hawing the last time he’d stopped by her office as if he’d been looking for the opportunity to ask her out. Instead of making it easy for him, however, she’d complained to Aiyana that he was bothering her.

Once again, she tried telling herself that last night had been strictly physical, that it didn’t matter, but it was difficult not to dwell on the way he’d touched her. He’d been tender, attentive, fully engaged. She couldn’t ask for a better lover. Was that why she couldn’t forget the taste of his kiss and the pressure of his arm looped casually and yet possessively around her while they slept?

She swallowed a sigh. She’d promised herself she’d get over him, that she would no longer allow him to take ownership of her heart.

Sleeping with him definitely wasn’t the best way to achieve that.

“Tash?” he said, still awaiting her response.

“I’m not mad,” she said. “I’m just...worried.” Fortunately, Lucas was treating the spoon from his hot chocolate like it was Superman, flying around the table, and wasn’t paying attention to their conversation. But she lowered her voice anyway. “I don’t want to deprive Lucas of his grandparents. They’re so normal. The kind of grandparents I always wished I had.”

He took a sip of his own coffee. “I understand that. But they were taking advantage of the fact that those familial relationships mean so much to you. Peggy was out of line, Tash.”

She had been unkind, but... “They’re hurt and shocked that Lucas might not be...you know.”

“A blood relative?” he said, filling in with something Lucas wouldn’t be likely to understand.

“Yes. You have to admit that what they’ve learned recently would be a nasty surprise. And the possibility that Lucas might not be...you know...is my fault, not theirs.”

“Your fault and mine,” he clarified. “But you and Ace weren’t exclusive when we were together. You’ve already made that clear to them.” He shoved his cup aside as he leaned closer. “Look, it’s nice of you to view the situation from their perspective, but is it too much to ask that they show you the same courtesy? The past year has been hard on you. You don’t need them making it worse.”

Her phone vibrated, signaling another text, but she knew who it was probably from and didn’t dare look at it. “I just wish the lab would hurry and post the results. Once we know for sure, everyone can figure out their place in Luke’s life and...and we can all begin to heal.” Then Mack could move on, if he wasn’t Luke’s father, and she wouldn’t be faced with the constant temptation he posed.

“Can I have more whipped cream?” Lucas asked.

He hadn’t drunk any of the hot chocolate. It probably wasn’t the sweet kind he was used to. He just liked the whipped cream.

Natasha opened her mouth to say that it was too busy to approach the register again, but Mack took the cup and wove to the front.

As soon as he left, she braved a glance at her phone. But what Ace had written this time made her feel as though someone had just punched her in the stomach.

She was still gaping at his spiteful words when Mack returned.

“Something wrong?” Mack asked.

She quickly jammed her phone into the pocket of her shorts. He’d returned much quicker than she’d expected. “No, ah, no. Nothing,” she mumbled, but she could barely think straight, let alone speak coherently.

“What is it?” he asked, clearly concerned.

She shook her head. “It’s fine.”

“I can tell something’s wrong.” He reached out for her phone. “Let me see what it is.”

Lucas had whipped cream on his nose when he clued in to the conversation. “Are you okay, Mommy?”

She managed to wipe her son’s face. “Of course, honey. Enjoy your hot chocolate. That was nice of Mack to go back and get more whipped cream.”

“Natasha...” Mack said.

She couldn’t meet his gaze for fear he’d read what she was feeling all too easily. “What?”

“Is it the Grays? What are they saying?”

Knowing he’d keep after her until she told him, she finally relinquished her phone.

When he read, his lips were barely moving. Lucas wouldn’t be able to make out the words. But she’d already seen the text, so she knew what he was saying. You stupid whore. I don’t know how I could ever have loved a baby killer like you.

Mack shot out of his chair. “I’m going to break this fool’s jaw.”

“What, Mack? What’d you say?” Lucas asked, obviously startled. “Whose jaw?”

Natasha wanted to reassure her son that Mack didn’t mean what he’d said, but she was too busy trying to hold back tears. The death of Amelia Grossman had been the hardest thing she’d ever been through. She still agonized over it—blamed herself for not seeing that something was missing inside of Maxine that other people possessed. For holding back just because she didn’t want to accuse someone who might be innocent, especially of such a heinous crime. For not catching those faint needle marks in that vial sooner.

If only she’d figured out what was going on before Maxine had been able to use that medicine to harm another child...

Ace knew every detail. He’d witnessed her pain. He was trying to hit her where it would hurt most.

And he’d succeeded.

“I—I need to use the restroom,” she said and nearly bumped into a stranger in her hurry to escape the table. She couldn’t let Mack show her any sympathy. It would only make it that much more difficult to maintain her composure.

It wasn’t until she’d spent several minutes in a bathroom stall, trying to calm down, that she realized she’d left her phone with Mack.

Mack didn’t think he’d ever been so enraged. He could tell Natasha had been deeply hurt that a man she’d once loved, and lived with for so long, could launch such a horrible accusation. He was tempted to follow her into the women’s restroom to make sure she was okay, but he couldn’t leave Lucas at the table alone. Using her phone, he texted Ace instead. This is Mack, he wrote. If you want to hurt somebody, why don’t you try to hurt me?

He got no response, so he dialed Ace’s number.

Ace didn’t pick up; his voice mail did.

“Hey, it’s me, you little coward,” Mack said, leaving a message. “Don’t try to call or text Natasha until we get the results of the DNA test. We’ll let you know what they are. Then we’ll decide who has the right to do what.”

“Where’s Mommy?” Lucas asked as Mack punched the end button with much more force than necessary.

“She went to the bathroom, remember?” Because he was so agitated, he led Lucas outside, where he paced back and forth in front of the coffee shop, trying to blow off steam.

Lucas shaded his eyes against the sun as he looked up. “Is Mommy crying?”

“No, I...I think she had something in her eye,” Mack said.

“Oh.” He took Mack’s hand and walked back and forth with him, mimicking Mack’s expression and movements. It was so darn cute, but Mack was too upset to enjoy it.

“Can we go home and play basketball now?” Lucas asked after they’d made several passes and Natasha still hadn’t come out.

Mack checked her phone, hoping Ace would respond. But nothing came in. “Soon, little buddy.”

When Natasha finally emerged, she was wearing a pair of sunglasses she must’ve had in her purse along with a fake smile. “All set?”

She started toward the car, as if that would be that, but Mack caught her by the hand as she passed him. When his arms first went around her, she stiffened, as though she wouldn’t allow it, but it didn’t take more than a few seconds for her to crumble against his chest. “I did everything I could for Amelia,” she said, starting to cry again. “But maybe he’s right. How did I not see it sooner? How could I have ever let something like that happen?”

“You didn’t let anything happen,” he said. “No one would expect to run into someone like your former nurse. Ignore him. Don’t give him the power to hurt you.”

He sneaked a peek at her phone. Still nothing.

“What’d you say to him?” she asked when she pulled away.

“I told him we’ll figure it all out after the results come in.”

She nodded as if that was fair and wiped her cheeks as her gaze settled on her son. “I hope he’s not a Gray,” she said.

Mack unlocked her car. “So do I.”