Page 57 of His Dark Purpose

“Yeah.” Seth’s brown eyes burned into her. “He was worried about you, and, frankly, so am I.”

“I’m okay.” She glanced at Kyle as though she needed him to validate the point. Maybe, after the months of sexy surrender, she did.

“Why are you looking at him?” Irritation flared in Seth’s tone. “Do you need him to tell you if you’re okay?”

“No,” she countered, fed up being lectured by her son. “I said I’m fine, and I am.”

“So, you’re okay with him cuffing you, then?” Seth spun in her direction, every ounce of his fury focused on her. “Youwanthim to do that?”

The air seemed to vanish from the room under the intensity of Seth’s stare, her lungs fighting for oxygen with each breath.

“Relationships are complex, love.” Suddenly, it was as though it was only her and Seth in the entire world, and Kyle—the man who’d held the reins for so long—had faded to gray.

“Yeah.” Seth’s tone was wry. “I’m not twelve anymore, Mum. I get that, but you haven’t answered my question.”

“And you’re not listening to either of us,” Kyle spoke up, vaguely penetrating the monochrome bubble erected around her and Seth. “We’ve asked you to go downstairs and wait for us there, but you’re still fucking here!”

“Is this how he treats you?” Seth’s attention was insistent. “Does he order you around?”

“No, I…” She faltered, aware that in so many ways it was how Kyle treated her, but unable to explain how his commands affected her—not to her son. “It’s not like that.”

“Now,you’relying.” Disdain oozed from Seth. “Jonah was right to be concerned, wasn’t he? We’re losing you to this idiot.”

“I said you need to leave.” Her lover lurched for Seth, grabbing his wrist in a vain attempt to steer her son from the room, but Kyle had underestimated him. Seth was no longer the scrawny boy Kyle might have remembered from Aspen Way. Months of training in the prison gym had apparently built muscle that made it easy to resist Kyle.

“Get the fuck off me, asshole.” Seth shifted to face him in slow motion, his face twisted with anger. “Maybe Mum has let you push her around, but you won’t terrorize me.”

“Oh, you’re quite the big, strong man, now, aren’t you?” Kyle’s goading tone was almost unrecognizable as Seth pushed his hand away.

“You’re damn fucking right I am.” Seth snarled, squaring off against her beau. “Strong enough to deal with you.”

“Please!” she panted, though she wasn’t sure she’d actually said the word out loud. “Don’t!”

Amy wished she could intervene, could say something—anything—to dissuade them from the ego-driven antagonism they seemed hellbent on, but watching them, she felt as though she was in one of those nightmares where her feet sank into the stairwell as she tried to race away from the monster. Everything around her protracted, slowing down until each thought became an unbearable effort, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t seem to arbitrate.

“You’re just a little boy trapped inside that body, aren’t you?” Kyle’s conceited tone flashed before them. “A little boy in need of a daddy.”

“You’re not my dad!” Seth spat the words at Kyle, his tone more vicious than she could ever remember from either of her children. “You’re not even half the man he was.”

“Imagine how hard it will be for you when you realize who your dad was.” Kyle snorted. “He was nothing but a miserly nobody who couldn’t even afford to look after your mum.”

She couldn’t believe the things Kyle was saying. He looked like the same guy who’d swept her off her feet, but the cruelty on his tongue contorted him into something else—something baser that needed to pulverize. She lifted her hand to protest, but her limb seemed to be made from lead, her digits impossible to control, no matter how hard she tried.

“A nobody, eh?” Time lengthened as Seth reached into his back pocket, and somehow—even though she hadn’t seen what he was carrying—she knew, acknowledging on a primal level that her son moved with ill intent. “We’ll see who’s a fucking nobody.”

Seth’s fist swung around his body, and there, captured between his thumb and fingers, was the same type of knife Kyle had brought with the omelets. In that split second, it all made sense to her—where her cutlery had gone when Kyle had dropped it and what Seth’s plan was. She watched in painful, suspended animation as Seth thrust the blade toward Kyle.

“Seth, no!”

Staggering forward, she threw herself between the two of them, and as though someone had pressed fast-forward on a movie, time sped up, enabling her to push Kyle backward as she turned to face Seth.

She didn’t realize what had happened at first, never felt the blade tear at her skin or sensed the warmth racing from her side. All she registered was the way Seth’s eyes widened and his flawless brow creased. She thought she heard him cry out—a strangled sob that escaped his throat—but she couldn’t be certain because her swelling maternal concern was swamped all at once by the sharp pain erupting from her middle.

Chapter Twenty

Consequences

Kyle

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