Page 67 of The Revenge Plan

“That award is making sense now.” He folded his hands. It made his biceps bulge and reminded me of the strength they held. I was in the middle of trying to get him out, and yet here I was fantasizing about his muscles. I turned my attention to his face. He had a puzzled expression on his face, “No wonder you were hungry. You would rather go hungry than spend my money?”

“It’s not like that.”

“I guess the hate is mutual.”

I don’t hate you as much as you hate me.“Yes. I guess it is.”

He smiled. “Then we have something in common. That should be enough for both of us to raise this child, wouldn’t it?”

42

“If you want to be part of the child’s life, fine. But don’t you dare use him or her as your tool against me,” Hailey said. Her voice was firm with conviction. She looked so formidable defending her baby. I would never do such a thing as she was suggesting. I was more afraid of her doing the same against me. But so far she has proved me wrong. All this time when she had taken my allowance, she had funneled it away. I couldn’t help but look at her in a different light. The money, this god-forsaken place she was living in (the press would have a field day if they found out), then there was the baby. She was pregnant.

“Why would I use the child? It’s mine as well. I assume it is mine?”

She glared at me as if I had said that she was Satan himself.

“Good to know. That means we should come to some sort of arrangement.”

“What do you mean, an arrangement? I’m perfectly fine as it is now. I’ll call you later when I have an appointment if you want to attend those sorts of things.”

“I don’t mean that. Of course I want to be involved. I mean on a broader scale. I assume you’re going to continue to refuse my money?”

She nodded slightly.

“Well, I’m not good with that. What about your health-care? How do you intend on paying it? I doubt your organization gives good health coverage. At least not to the level I’ll be able to provide. Then there’s your current living arrangements, for example.”

“What’s wrong with them?”

“Can you cook?”

She blushed.

“I thought as much,” I said, looking at the box of frozen pizza on top of the microwave.

“So, what’s your solution?”

“Let’s go back to my place.”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Why not? It’s closer to your workplace than here. You won’t have to pay rent and you don’t have to cook.”

“Sure, you won’t poison me?”

“I won’t poison my child if that’s what you're asking.”

She bit her lip. She looked like she was in deep thought. “Why are you doing this? You don’t care about me. You’d rather see me dead.”

“Trust me, I’d rather have it any other way, but I care about my child, that’s it. You won’t be living with me. Trust me, I want to see you as much as you want to see me. I have an apartment downstairs. I can even hire a cook for you. You only have to be where I can see you.”

“Why?”

“Because you could run away? Isn’t that what you were planning?” The guilty look on her face was all I needed as confirmation.

“You would have to make sure you call off your goons,” she said.

“I called them off the minute I learned they were tailing you.”

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