Page 37 of Unresolved

Stalking around to his side of the bed, he bent and opened his bedside drawer and retrieved his holster and his gun, along with more bullets than seemed necessary.I was too tired at that point to care.Whatever he was going to do I couldn’t stop him.

He stalked away without looking back, and I knew I was in trouble.The front door slammed shut behind him, his Harley Davidson thundering into life a minute later.It roared then as he swung it away from the cabin at full speed.

Tears threatened yet again, but I refused to allow them to pour out and cleanse any of the guilt from my conscience.I deserved to keep it all bottled up inside.I deserved to relive the pain all over again.

Rembrandt jumped on the bed and sashayed over to me, his tail waving in the air like a feather duster.He butted my chin with his fluffy head and I lifted my free hand to stroke his back.

He purred and snuggled against me.

“Looks like it’ll be just you and me again, bud,” I said hoarsely.I laughed, but no joy filled the hollow sound.Rembrandt seriously loved being here as much as he appeared to love Evander.

Join the queue.

I inhaled sharply.It wasn’t true...itcouldn’tbe true.

Except I was past the point of denial now.The truth hit me in the face harder than the force of a sledgehammer.

I’d never stopped loving Evander.

It was as if that knowledge, along with all the drama and pain, the trauma I’d tried so hard to repress, slowly drained me of energy...of life.

I didn’t want to fight anymore, I just wanted peace.

I closed my eyes, darkness sweeping me away even as it took me back to the past I could no longer keep locked inside my head.

Though I was dry-eyed, I wanted nothing more than to burst into tears as I watched my mom zip up her final suitcase before she turned to me with deep concern in her tired, hazel eyes.“Gemma, are you certain you want to stay here?”

I nodded.“We’ve made this our home.I don’t want to leave.I feel safe here.”

She grimaced, her blonde hair that was threading with gray somehow more noticeable with her pinched face.“I was with the mafia long enough to know the men there don’t give up.Evander won’t stop searching for you, sweetheart.I saw the way he looked at you.”

I shrugged helplessly.“He hasn’t found me yet.With my name and career change I’m counting on him never finding me.”

“I hope you’re right.I don’t even want to think about the consequences if your true identity was ever uncovered.”She stepped toward me then and drew me in for a hug, my bump already large enough to get in the way.She stepped back, her hand gentle as she touched my growing belly.“You know where to find me if things suddenly change.Raising a baby alone isn’t easy.I can leave Craig—”

“That won’t be necessary, but thanks, Mom.”I huffed out a breath, then added, “I know it won’t be a walk in the park, but you raised me alone, I intend to do the same.I’ll be the best single parent possible.”I shrugged.“It’s got to be better than letting the mafia raise my child, right?”

My mom smiled sadly.“Right.”

A knock sounded at the door.I pulled back and went to step toward the man I’d yet to be introduced to.Mom stepped in front of me and shook her head.“It’s best for you both if you don’t meet him.If he doesn’t see you he can never confirm who you are...to anyone.”

I sighed heavily.She’d been dating Craig for nearly three months and she’d been deliriously happy.It hurt, more than hurt, that I couldn’t meet him and decide for myself if he was Mr.Right, but I understood her concern.The less he knew about me the better off we’d both be.That he likely didn’t even know I existed wasn’t something I wanted to think about.

“You’re right.”I barely held back tears when I said, “I love you, Mom.”

Her face pinkened, the faint lavender scent of her body wash making me want to hug her all over again.“I love you too, Gemma.”She winced and added, “Fiona.”

My mother spiraled away in an oddly disturbing vortex of color, like smoke twisting up and around before it dissipated.Another scene righted itself in front of my eyes.I looked around.I was in the same house, but in my old bedroom.A canvas sat on an easel in front of me, where I was painting a landscape that had been filling my head for weeks.

I was due to have my baby any day.Lord only knew my nesting phase had hit a few days ago when I’d taken apart the spare bed and turned my bedroom into my personal art studio.

I’d been impatient to paint the landscape that had been filling my head, a scene that had featured a cabin beside a stream, with mountains rearing up in the distance.A faint trace of chimney smoke was the only indication anyone lived in the cabin.

I’d managed to portray someone living a lonely and solitary existence, even as I’d conveyed a rugged beauty to the landscape where many people would envy the homeowner his pristine solitude.

I put my paint brush down, a strangeknowinghitting me front and center.It was as if I knew the place intimately, though I’d never visited it before in my life.Could it possibly be somewhere I’d lived in a past lifetime, or some parallel world?

I sighed.I was being silly and letting my imagination run away from me.Or perhaps my pregnancy hormones were taking over from all commonsense.

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