Page 12 of Nick
“¡Mamá, mamá!”he exclaimed, words tumbling out in a rush as he wrapped tiny arms around Sarah’s neck.
Nick’s gaze softened just a fraction at the sight, the corners of his mouth threatening an involuntary smile despite the tight coil of tension in his chest.The child, with tousled hair that caught the sun in glints of gold and brown, was a stark contrast to the dust-laden streets and weathered facades of Sunburst.
“Is this Una’s kid?”he found himself asking.
Sarah looked up, her gaze locking onto his with an unreadable expression.She adjusted the boy on her hip.“No, I moved in with Una right before Javier was born.”
“Before Javier was born,” Nick echoed, the name unfamiliar, a puzzle piece that didn’t fit any picture he had constructed of his return to Sunburst.His mind raced ahead, calculating dates and possibilities.
Javier continued his chatter unabated, a stream of consciousness that only a child could muster, oblivious to the complexities of the world around him.
Nick watched the boy with a predator’s intensity, noting the way Sarah’s fingers curled protectively around the child.His gaze lingered on Sarah as she gently disentangled herself from Javier’s energetic embrace.Nick’s body coiled like a spring as she turned toward him with Javier’s hand clasped in hers.
“He’s your…son?”Nick’s voice cracked, the pieces clicking together in a jarring disarray of emotions.
Sarah nodded, her lips pressed into a thin line.
Javier, sensing the tension, squeezed her hand, looking from one adult to the other.
Nick glanced behind himself at Ryker and Bronx, but they simply waited for the drama to unfold before them.
“Cuántos años tienes, Javier?”Nick’s question came out rougher than intended.
Sarah’s gaze never wavered from his, a silent acknowledgment passing between them.
“Tres,” Javier said, the word hanging in the air, waiting for Nick to recognize it.
Three years old.
The ground beneath Nick’s feet seemed to give way, and he steadied himself against the side of Bronx’s dusty SUV.His gaze snapped back to Sarah, the sharpness in his eyes seeking an explanation in her own.
“Three,” Nick repeated softly, the math of absence slicing through him.
He remembered the last night he’d spent with Sarah—the heat of their bodies entwined.
The implications thundered in his veins.Anger darkened his features, a scowl twisting his tanned face as he struggled with the revelation.Bitterness welled up through his throat, the flavor of betrayal as potent as the taste of the dust swirling in the breeze.
How could she have kept this from him?
His son—his flesh and blood—raised in Nick’s absence, without even the ghost of his presence to watch over him.
“Nick…” Sarah’s voice was a soft plea, but he wasn’t ready to hear it.
“Three years,” he muttered again.
He gazed into Javier’s expectant brown eyes, and a surge of protectiveness almost overwhelmed his fury.
This boy was part of him.
But his anger wouldn’t be dismissed so easily.It coiled tightly within him, a serpent ready to strike.He had been robbed of years he could never reclaim, moments with his son that had slipped away forever.And that, he couldn’t find it in himself to forgive.
Sarah reached out tentatively, but he sidestepped her touch, the distance between them more than just physical.
“Later,” he bit out, the word clipped, final.His jaw clenched, the cords in his neck standing out stark against his heated skin as he turned away from Sarah.
“I just…” Sarah’s voice cracked with emotion.He heard the tremble there, the undercurrent of the years she’d spent carrying a burden alone, but it only served to fuel his anger.
“Enough,” Nick snapped, the word sharp and cutting.“How could you keep him from me?”His tone was accusatory, barbed with the pain of betrayal.He felt eyes upon him—Ryker’s wary glance, Bronx’s uncomfortable shuffle—but they were nothing compared to the intensity of Sarah’s gaze.
