Page 55 of Worth Risking It

She hinted at a rigid nod, her complexion white. “It’s okay,” she whispered, rubbing her belly. “I’ll be with Meyers.”

Gutted at her statement, I grunted with a wince, twisting my face and averting my gaze.

“When do we do this?”

“I will go out and buy you a phone right now. I will hide it over there,” I said, pointing to the shrubbery a few feet away from the gate. “When you get a chance to claim it without being caught, send me a text. I will have my number already programmed. Then we will go from there.”

She was breathing faster, shaking her hands at her sides. “Right, right. Okay. Let’s do this. The sooner, the better. He won’t do anything so soon after the funeral, so I say we have about a two week window before he starts scheming again.”

“Exactly. So, you start planning how you’re going to fake your miscarriage and I’ll let you know when I’m ready for you to disappear.”

“Okay, okay.”

I headed up the beach for the gate, paused, and looked back at her. “Hey.”

“Hm?” She glimpsed my way, chewing her nails.

“Did…did he love you? I mean, he and Becky never really got along, that marriage was crap. Everyone knew it. Did Meyers…love you?”

Instantly, I regretted the question, for the anguish was palpable in her tear-filled eyes. Her fingertips covering her quaking lips, she nodded. “Yes, he did.”

I sniffed, rubbing at my nose and coughing. “All right. Do what I say, and we can save that baby.”

“Wyatt?” she squeaked when I opened the gate. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Without looking at her, I nodded, stepped through, and headed up the hill.

The plan was set in motion. If everything went as I hoped it did, I could save my nephew and have a son, keeping with the Shaw tradition without being with another woman. I could fulfill my destiny without betraying the woman I loved.

If I failed, I was dead. Plain and simple. Since I was already on borrowed time just being in love with Chastity, I may as well keep taking risks.

She was worth everything.

Chapter 22

Chastity Monroe

The silver, metallic dress was form fitting, gathered in the front with a low vee neck and long sleeves. The design looked as if the material was wrapped around and gathered just under my breasts, the excess hanging in a single fold of shiny silver that fell to my knees, where the skirt stopped at mid thighs. I had on silver, strappy heels with crystals across my toes.

My hair parted on the side and flipped around my face, my makeup was simple with just a thick, winged liner, long lashes, and bright red lips. My engagement ring, the necklace from Wyatt, and thin, diamond loops on my ears completed the ensemble.

The corner of my mouth curled as I gazed at my reflection. This time last year, I never would have worn something like this, not in the privacy of my own bedroom, and certainly not in public.

Everything was different in my life. I had the confidence to know I looked spectacular in this outfit.

My chin held high, I exhaled through my nose and sashayed out of the bathroom to rejoin the rest of the group in the private lounge upstairs. Weaving through the crowd on the main level, I smiled at the people dancing and laughing, having a good time. I sometimes envied their carefree nights at the club, knowing when I climbed those stairs, I would hear talking about smuggling more weapons out of the country.

My fingers brushing the diamond circle on my chest, my heart ached with images of Wyatt’s devastated expression. None of these people had to worry about losing their life if they fell in love with the wrong person.

Pushing those thoughts out of my head, I shook my bangs off my brow and quickened my pace. Milo didn’t like it when I was gone too long alone, especially since we were on someone else’s turf.

“Well, hello, sexy mamma.”

My attention shot over my shoulder at the man directing that statement my way. A brow arched and I scoped my sight along his thin frame. He was wearing a black, button up shirt with the top undone to reveal a sweaty, hairless chest, black jeans, and shiny black shoes. He had short, blond hair that was slicked away from his face, and a short, neatly trimmed beard, dark smoldering eyes checking me out.

Once upon a time, I would have swooned at a man like that showing me this kind of appreciation. Now, despite his good looks, I was uninterested. Why would any man catch my attention when I had Milo and Wyatt’s love? I was a lucky woman.

Giving a small smile to at least acknowledge him, I continued toward the stairs. He grabbed my wrist to stop me, speaking over the music and commotion of the other patrons.