Page 72 of Push

“Will you come home?”

“Not now.”

“Toby…” The tremor in her voice ate me up inside. “I’m worried about you.”

I closed my eyes and slumped lower in the seat. I didn’t want Gwen to worry, but I wasn’t leaving. Not yet. “Can we do something later?” Later, I’d be better. “As a family? A trip to the park or a walk with the stroller or something? All three of us.”

“Toby… I…”

“You said it yourself. We need to talk.Properlytalk. Being out of the house might help us. Neutral turf and all that. And I…” I paused, unsure if I should admit the truth. “Gwen, I needa reason not to do some serious damage to Ian.” And I wasn’t joking.

Her hesitance was clear when she said, “Noah likes the park.”

“He does. You should’ve seen him in the sandpit this morning. The little dude might not be crawling yet, but he had an absolute blast digging and throwing sand everywhere.” A smile nudged the scowl off my face for a second. “It would mean a lot to me if we could meet up later.”

I mindlessly watched people walking down the street, waiting for Gwen to answer. Eventually, she softly said, “We could meet at the park at two.”

“Thanks. This means so much. I’ll see you at two.”

I was pulling the phone away from my ear when Gwen’s panicked voice called for me to wait.

“Toby, promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”

“Oh, please. Remember who you’re talking to.” This time, Iwasjoking. “I’m always stupid.”

She huffed. “I hate when you say that about yourself. You’re smarter than you give yourself credit for. Just… Think things through, okay? But if you do wind up in the clink…”

“Yeah, it’s all good. I know who to call.” I grinned. “I’ve heard Liam Crawford has a good lawyer these days.”

Gwen’s laugh was the last thing I heard before ending the call. I got out of the car, slammed the door shut, and took a breath as my gaze focused on the upmarket apartment block stretching down the street.

Don’t do anything stupid.

I strode to the foyer and punched the button for the intercom. Ian would be home. His day didn’t start until at least nine o’clock—including days when his patients were scheduled for appointments starting at eight.

The speaker crackled. Ian sounded slow and groggy when he answered, “Yeah?”

“Mate. You got a minute to talk?” Talk. Murder. There was a bit of a gray area.

“For you, always.” He yawned. “Come on up.”

A thousand thoughts rattled around in my empty head as I stepped into the foyer, and just like last time, I have no idea how I ended up outside Ian’s front door. I raised my hand to knock, but my knuckles hovered above the glossy black paint.

What should I do? I sighed. Other than violence, I was out of ideas. Gwen was the master at this stuff. What wouldshedo? Castrate Ian with clever words and post the proof online, probably. She sure as hell wouldn’t walk into his apartment and punch his lights out.

I unclenched my fist and flexed my fingers. Okay. No hitting. The end goal was getting all our shit out in the open, avoiding jail, and seeing my beautiful wife and kid in a few hours’ time. Ian would sulk if I messed up his pretty face, anyway.

My brain threw a new option at me.

I grabbed my phone out of my pocket, messed around a bit trying to find the right buttons, but eventually, I found what I was looking for. I hit record.Evidence. Gwen would be proud of me thinking ahead. I’d save every word coming out of that traitor’s mouth…just in case.

I knocked on the door.

“It’s unlocked!”

Wearing only gray sweats, Ian shuffled past me when I walked into the kitchen. He gave me a half-assed wave before his hand raked through rumpled bed hair.

“You want a coffee?” he asked.

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