Page 63 of Iron Cross

But no, he was the same. His square pecs, and tight abs belonged on an underwear ad campaign, and his blond hair, so much better than the brown he’d colored it, was tucked back behind his ears.

“Good morning, sweet Muse,” he said, sliding a coffee across the counter towards me. “You slept well.”

He was talking as if the world hadn’t fucking changed. Like we had lived here, together, our whole lives, and had always had this sort of domestic bliss in the morning.

“Oursonwoke up early, and we went out to the cafe to get you breakfast,” he said, as though he was describing the weather.

Our son.

The words had so much meaning, even if there was nothing strange with how he said it.

“I hope you wore a shirt,” I said, prickling with unreasonable jealousy. Did he show his naked torso to other women the way he had in the park, when he’d run in front of all the Tiffanys? Was he on display for them?

“I did, but it rained, and I had to tuck the wean under my jacket.” He smirked, as if he could read my thoughts, and liked it. “Thesquirmy little monster got me soaked. I’m running my things through the dryer downstairs.”

I could see that happening. Cillian never liked being wrapped up, even when it was pouring outside.

“Monster!” Cillian said, lifting his arms up, making grabby hands towards Eoghan.

He leaned down in front of the tray of his high chair, and smiled. “Youare the monster, wean!” he said as he bopped him on the nose. “You can call me Dada.”

I stood beside Cillian, placing a hand on his shoulder, needing to touch him to know that he was alright. At least for now.

Eoghan didn’t seem to care. He kept on plating parts of Magda’s familiar green bean casserole, before he put one on the counter with a fork, and pushed it towards me.

“Eat,” he commanded, and I wasn’t sure if disobeying was worth it.

I would have to play this smart if I was to survive.

I inventoried all the ways that he could harm me - he could take my son away. He could dive into how my cover was created, and hurt Paradigm. He had all the power.

Once again, I was in the wretched position of being under a man’s power. The place I had fought so hard not to be. But it kept happening, again and again.

“Eat.” Eoghan gave the donut a pointed look, like he was an aggravated tutor and I was a disobedient student. “Drink your coffee. You’ll need it.”

Need it for what?

I was scared to ask the questions. Scared to make him angry. Scared to misstep.

I took one bite of the sweet pastry and put it down.

My mouth was so dry and I was so scared that I could hardly taste it.

“What happens now?” I asked, terrified of the answer.

Would he lock me in a room again? I looked at my son, and wanted to hold him. To kiss him, and cling to him like he was my last lifeline because they would take him from me. I knew it. There were consequences for touching a Green. And I had transgressed in the worst possible way.

“You’re going to eat and fix that dye job on your hair,” he said, nudging the fork towards me. “Then you’ll pack,and we will go home.”

“Monster!” Cillian sang, as he squished a bit of egg between his thumb and forefinger, then reached out his chubby arm to offer it to Eoghan.

“Dada,” Eoghan corrected him.

“Monster!” Cillian responded.

“We’ll work on that, son,” he said with a small smile.

Was it too much to hope that he’d just forgive me? That we’d just go back to what we were before I found Morelli? Yes. Yes it was. Because I had stolen his boy. And it washisboy. Maybe I wasn’t born in the life, but I understood power. He had it all, and I had none. Therefore, our son was his.

---