Page 3 of Inked in Devotion

“Mr. King, your ten o’clock is here.”

That was our cue to exit.

No. We’re not family, I thought. We’re just another appointment on your calendar.

Trevor was waiting for us in front of King Tower when Dora and I emerged. He’d been such a godsend ever since I accepted sanctuary with the De Lucci crime family. A former military intelligence officer who seemed to have every answer to logistical issues on his phone, he was the one who arranged safe transport for Dora and Seb to come out of hiding and join me in Manhattan.

I hadn’t revealed the identity of Sebastian’s father to anyone, at least to anyone who was alive. It was going to cause a shitstorm, but I’d been working on my courage and a way to tell him he had a son.

“Hey, buddy.” Trevor reached for the stroller and helped us secure Sebastian in the car seat. My boy continued to coo and gurgle, and his eyes were curious about all the sights and sounds. He hadn’t thrown a fuss, though. I warned Dora not to tease me about Trevor. Yes, he was single. Yes, he’s got that hot protector bearing with his six-foot-plus, muscular form. He was wearing a light bomber jacket that hid his sidearm. His shorn black hair and strong, angular face meant business. But he had oh-so-kind brown eyes.

I’d sworn off men for now because the last time I’d given in to a one-night stand that turned into a weekend of sex, I ended up pregnant.

“See, in and out in thirty minutes,” I chirped, climbing into the front passenger seat. Dora was in the back with Sebastian. We decided not to disrupt my baby’s good mood, and I didn’t want to treat Trevor like a driver even when he insisted I could sit in the back with my baby.

When we were on our way to the apartment, Trevor shot me a fleeting glance. “Lucy’s asking about you and Sebastian.”

“I know,” I groaned. Murphy’s law dictated that if anything could go wrong, it would. “What did you tell her?”

“It’s none of her business.”

I laughed.

“Is Lucy Dominic De Lucci’s sister? The one who married into the Zahkarov bratva?” Dora asked.

Trevor kept quiet. Of course he knew about Dora and our history with the bratva, but we hadn’t spoken openly about it yet. That would trigger a minefield of memories neither Dora nor I wanted to revisit. Before she started working at shelters, Dora had been a mistress like my mother. Unlike my mother, though, a high-ranking member of the Zahkarov bratva forced her to become the other woman. Despite my friend’s experience with criminal organizations, she’d taken a liking to Dom, the don of the De Lucci crime family. She said he exuded the same protective vibes as Trevor.

I glanced over at my friend. “Yes.”

“Are we safe from the bratva?” Dora asked.

Trevor noticed my hesitation and came to my rescue. “We extracted a promise from the bratva to leave you alone. Besides, you still have twenty-four-hour security on you.”

With that settled, he dropped us in front of the canopy of an exclusive apartment building on the Upper East Side and introduced us to Hudson, my security for the day. He was a blond man, larger than Trevor, if that was possible.

Dora carried Sebastian. Hudson grabbed the stroller and the diaper bag, and I was left holding nothing.

But my eyes were trained on Sebastian, who felt comfortable in Dora’s arms. A hesitation inside me prevented me from reaching for him. Was it guilt that I left him in Dora’s care for three months? But no, it was way before that. I had mixed feelings when I found out I was pregnant, but it wasn’t until I discovered the identity of my weekend fling that fear consumed me, filled me with dread.

I craved independence. Uncertainty only heightened my survival instinct. Part of that survival instinct was not getting attached to anyone.

Including my baby.

The constant battle inside me of whether he was safe with me and the unknowns springing from his complex parentage had spawned a fear inside me, subduing me from loving my son with all my heart.

Because…what if the unselfish thing to do was to let someone else raise him?

Someone without my baggage.

A couple who could nurture him in a real family.

But was that thought also selfish? That I wanted to cut and run and not get attached?

Was I thinking only about myself?

And then the guilt would set in…

“Talk to Sebby.” One look at my face and my lagging behind as we got into the elevator was all it took for Dora to read my thoughts instantly. “It’s only been overnight. He’ll get used to you.”