Chapter 34
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RAYDEN (27YRS)
How could she do this?
I’d envisioned this moment of coming face to face with Zena since that first phone call at my father’s wedding. But the woman standing in front of me now, wasn’t whom I’d expected to see. Where had the slim, feisty woman who’d taunt and tease me with her sexy comebacks every time I challenged her, gone? The woman who I’d grown to love unerringly, knowing she’d never do anything to hurt me. Instead, I stared at the liar, the manipulator, the destroyer of my heart, gawking at me as though I’d just dropped in from some fucked-up country called stupid and its people, dumb fucks. Because I sure as fuck felt like one.
Did she really expect me to fall for the kidnap story, knowing we’d played that game already? I balled my fists trying hard to keep from cursing out loud or worse, wringing her fucking neck.
“Din.” Jardin held out his hand and I tried to smile through my anguish before he popped a finger in his mouth and mumbled, “I drink milk, Mama.”
I took a step toward her when a woman slightly older looking than Zena, entered the room. “Can I take him, Senorita?” Zena nodded and as the woman walked out, Zena watched her leave, her expression a mixture of tenderness and worry.
My chest burned with the knowledge she had a baby with another man, and I had to drag in additional air to stay upright. “I asked you a question, Zena?” I hissed, my anger taking over my ability to remain calm.
Her eyes flicked behind me, and I had no idea why a sudden hyperawareness prickled my skin before, “hello, Rayden,” vibrated through my tense body.
I swung around sharply, gaping dumbstruck at Lorenzo Rossi. This was seriously not fucking happening. What the fuck was he doing here? I was still trying to process my shock for a full minute then it clicked. “You! You’re responsible for kidnapping her!” I grunted.
“Nice to see you too, Rayden.” The fucker smirked.
“Don’t give me that nice to see you shit, Lorenzo.”
“Watch your tone, boy.”
“Or what? I’m not eighteen and I’m definitely not a fucking boy.”
“Yet still as cocky?”
“Fuck you,” I sneered. His low chuckle annoyed the crap out of me. “All this time you knew where she was, and you kept quiet? You could’ve told me, spared me the fucking anguish,” I yelled, too far gone now to care that once again I was set on taking on this Mafia head.
“Rayden—”
“Not now, Zena,” both Lorenzo and I said together, looked at her then at each other.
“What the fucks wrong with you? Why did you kidnap her and...wait...the baby?” all the puzzle pieces clicked as I did the math. I turned to Zena. “The b-baby is his?” My voice broke on the words, and I cringed at my weakness, grinding my teeth and ready to fuck something, better yet, someone.
“Rayden, let—”
“Answer the damn question, Zena!”
“Calm the fuck down, Rayden,” I recognized the steel in Lorenzo’s voice, warning me that I was pushing him.
Chest rising and falling in rapid heaves, I glared at him. “You took her from me,” I hissed.
He stared at me for a moment, I couldn’t read his expression. “It was a mistake,” he said.
Zena’s soft gasp had me frowning. I shifted my gaze to her face. She looked just as surprised as me. Only God knew why, and I suddenly didn’t care. I was spent. Tired. The fight left my body. I was done battling for the women I loved. It just wasn’t worth it.
Maybe I was never meant to experience a solid relationship like Sianna and my father. Trent and Ashrika. Maybe I was just meant to live alone for the rest of my miserable fucking life. Shoulders sagging, I turned my back to the two of them and stared out the window. An intense ache radiated through every cell in quick succession, gripping my body in a deadly surrender, because the calm before the storm was so much better right now than wanting to lash out. To fuck the shit out of them. Instead, I balled my fists, nails digging into my palms with a ferocity likely to draw blood.
“If you wanted him, why did you string me along, Zena,” I bit back the misery lining my throat. “Why didn’t you just say so.” I didn’t turn around.
“Rayden.” Lorenzo came up behind me, his voice filled with that surprising tenderness I’d first heard when he massaged my sprained ankle. I remembered how shocked I was that a man whose hands had killed without remorse could be so gentle. “She didn’t mean to hurt you.”
