Page 140 of Dual

Page List

Font Size:

I might not deserve this life with Domhnall and our sweet, innocent son, but I’m still going to fucking take it.

Domhn and I have arranged this reunion as carefully as anyone could. Isaak’s men are stationed throughout the park—some dressed as joggers, others as food truck workers, a couple pretending to be a young couple on a picnic.

The perimeter is secure. Every entrance and exit is monitored. Snipers are positioned on the surrounding buildings, though far enough away that return fire would be impossible. And the baby stroller Domhnall pushes? It’s weighted to feel realistic, but it also contains a state-of-the-art tracking system and emergency beacon. If someone tries to grab it, thinking Connor is inside, they’ll trigger a dozen different alarms.

I take a deep breath and step into the park. The air smells of dried winter grasses and food truck tacos, such a normal scent that it makes my chest ache.

This is what I want—normal. Boring but beautiful normal.

Domhnall’s head turns as if he can sense me, even from fifty yards away. When our eyes meet, the world seems to stop.

Nine months. It’s been nine months since I’ve seen him, since I’ve touched him. And we parted on such angry, hateful words.

He doesn’t get up. We’ve planned this too carefully. He stays seated, continuing to push the stroller, playing his roleas the oblivious father. But I can see the tension in his shoulders and the way his free hand clenches and unclenches on his thigh.

I force myself to walk slowly, scanning the park as I move. There are families with actual children here. Young professionals on their lunch breaks. A group of elderly women doing tai chi. Everything looks normal.

“Too normal,”Madison warns.“Where is he? If Kozlov had a son who’s coming for revenge, this is his chance.”

No. He wouldn’t dare risk anything so public. Would he? I start to feel nervous. Public violence isn’t uncommon these days. What if I’ve miscalculated everything?

Twenty yards from Domhnall now. I can see the new lines around his eyes, the way his jaw is clenched so tight that a muscle jumps in his cheek.

He didn’t want this. He hated the idea of using me as bait. But it was the only way I would agree to come home.

We have to know if the threat is real. We have to end this, one way or another.

Ten yards. Close enough that I somehow get a waft of Domhn’s cologne over the park’s chaotic scents.

Five yards…

And… nothing.

No attack, no dramatic appearance.

See? Kozlovwaslying. Maybe?—

“Matilda.”

The voice comes from behind me, young and male and terrifyingly familiar even though I’ve never heard it before.

Matilda. My original name.

I freeze, every muscle in my body locking up.

“MOVE!”Mads screams in my mind, already trying to surge forward and take control.

But I turn slowly instead, my heart hammering against my ribs.

The young man standing behind me is wearing a jogger’s outfit, with the earpiece that marks him as one of the men from Isaak’s security company. He’s tall, early twenties, with dark hair and eyes that?—

Oh god.Those eyes. I know those eyes.

They’re the same hazel as mine. The same shape. The same?—

“You murdered my father,” he says, and his hand moves to his hip where I know a weapon waits.

Time slows. I see Domhnall rising from the bench, see him recognizing the threat, see his hand moving to his own concealed weapon. I see Isaak’s other men starting to converge, their covers blown as they rush toward us.