Page 76 of Between Passion and Revenge: Part Two
“Shae, we can talk here, where…” I take a deep breath, feeling my chest burn. “Where Tempest and Raiden can finish exploring while you and I begin to clear some stuff up. Or the four of us can go back to the hotel and speak there. You have a choice.”
Although I shouldn’t be giving heranychoices. Not after she stole seven years of my kids’ lives from me.
“Jean-Claude? Marcel?” Shae yells for her guards, and Yennifer cranes her neck to look around, too. Then, putting a hand on Shae’s arm, Yennifer whispers something in Shae’s ear. Straightening, Shae’s face twists before settling into a strained smile. Her hold tightens on our kids’ shoulders.
“Okay,” she smiles brightly, even though it’s clearly forced. “You said the four of us. Yenn comes, too. We’d welcome a ride back to the hotel. Right, kids? Ready to get that pain au chocolat, Tems?”
“Ooh, chocolate!” Tempest shouts, jumping up and down. Shae smiles at our daughter, her expression transforming into one of pure love. My heart squeezes again.
But then she looks back at me, and her face morphs into a near-feral expression of a mother protecting her offspring.
I hold out an arm in the direction of the forward exit.
“After you all,” I say graciously.
Wordlessly, our group makes it to the chartered Mercedes van, piles inside, and rides back to the hotel in tense silence. The entire drive, I move my attention between the kids who stare out the window at the scenery and the side of Shae’s face.
Shae sits in the middle of the first passenger row, and her focus doesn’t stray from the windshield.
Entering Maison des Rêves, I escort Shae to her Presidential suite while my guards disperse around their posts within the hotel. She’ll have two on her floor tonight, too.
The kids are quiet when they enter their room, Yennifer following behind them after giving me and Shae a bewildered look.
The door closes, and Shae and I stare at each other. She folds her arms over her chest in a defensive pose, and I stand taller, calling on my mother’s spirit not to explode everywhere.
“Storm…why are you here?” she asks, drawing out each word as if they’re hard for her to compose.
I want to laugh. I want to shout.
I want to cry.
“Why am I here? Well, let me tell you, Sweetness,” I rasp. “A little over twenty-four hours ago, after pressing you to a wall and making you come on my fingers, I learned that despite having ample opportunityat leastin the last forty-eight hours, if not the lasteight fucking years, you’ve neglected to tell me we have children together.”
I huff, my heart racing as energy flows through my blood. Shae’s eyelashes flutter, and she makes small, choked sounds before she finds her words.
“What are you talking about? I told you I was pregnant. You never showed!” She starts to raise her voice, but with a look back at the closed door, she moderates her tone.
I shake my head so hard my teeth clack together.
“Negative. Younevertoldmethe words, ‘Storm, I’m pregnant.’ Those wordsnevercame out of your mouth.”
“How could I? I couldn’t reach you, you asshole!” she snarls. “I tried my best.”
“Did you?” I spit, and she takes a half-step backward, her eyes turning to slits and her hand flying to her chest.
“Yes, youfucking bastard,” she hisses.
“No, that’s what you’ve mademy children.”
I should have expected her slap; still, it catches me off guard, and I react on instinct. I pin her to the wall next to the door faster than she can gasp, her wrists grasped in my right hand above her head. This close to her, I feel her heart racing and the way her chest rises and falls with short breaths.
“You will not hit me again, Shae,” I grind out. “Thank you for confirming they’re my kids. At least you can be honest about that.”
“They look just like you,” she whispers. “I couldn’t deny that even if I wanted.”
“And you wanted to, didn’t you, Shae?” I say, my voice just as low.
She doesn’t answer.
