Baby Secret (Slade Brothers Book 3)
Baby Secret
Slade Brothers-Book 3
Alexis Winter
Contents
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I’m just going to say it, happily ever after is BS.
A Novel
1. Autumn
2. Clay
3. Autumn
4. Clay
5. Autumn
6. Clay
7. Autumn
8. Clay
9. Autumn
10. Clay
11. Autumn
12. Clay
13. Autumn
14. Clay
15. Autumn
16. Clay
17. Autumn
18. Clay
19. Autumn
20. Clay
21. Autumn
22. Clay
23. Autumn
24. Clay
25. Autumn
Epilogue
Loves Me NOT Sneak Peek
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
READ THE REST OF THE SLADE BROTHERS HERE
Also by Alexis Winter
About the Author
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* * *
It’s no secret I’ve always had a crush on Damon Strickland.
My best friend’s older brother and the center of every single one of my fantasies.
* * *
He’s a walking, talking temptation.
* * *
That cocky grin and those broad, athletic shoulders.
You know what they say about a man with big hands right?
* * *
Growing up, we always tormented one another.
I was the nagging, annoying little girl he hated
And he was the man-whoring, douchebag I couldn’t seem to get over.
* * *
Now as adults he actually came through and helped me land a job at my dream company.
* * *
How the hell am I supposed to focus when all I can think about is tearing that tight suit from his tempting body!
* * *
What’s even worse?
He forgot to mention, he’s my boss.
* * *
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I’m just going to say it, happily ever after is BS.
The only side of love I’ve seen is dark, toxic and hateful,
Until I met Clay.
I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with him,
And I sure as hell wasn’t supposed to end up pregnant with his baby.
* * *
I moved to Colorado for a fresh start,
But the truth is, I was running from my past
My only priority was keeping my five-year-old son safe,
And just when I think I’ve escaped, my demons come back to haunt me.
* * *
Let me be clear, I’m not a damsel in distress,
And I didn’t need a savior.
But the way Clay made me feel…love, protected, desired—things I never thought I’d feel again,
I can’t help but wonder if things are moving too fast.
* * *
I’m falling and falling hard,
But the truth is I’m terrified.
Can I allow myself to truly trust him?
Do I even deserve a second chance at happily ever after?
* * *
For once in my life, I feel the kind of love that songs are written about,
The kind that keeps you up all night with giddiness,
But can it survive the secret I’m carrying?
Or is my ugly past about to rear its head and destroy everything?
A Novel
By
Alexis Winter
1
Autumn
“Where we going, Mommy?” my five-year-old son, Bryce, asks as I take his hand and lead him out to the minivan.
I hit the button and the back door slides open. I bend down on one knee so I’m eye level with him. Taking both his tiny hands in mine, I say, “We’re going on an adventure.” I force a smile onto my face, not wanting him to see the panic and worry that’s consuming me.
His blue eyes light up and a smile stretches across his face. “Like in Adventure Land?”
I laugh. He compares everything to his favorite video game. “Just like Adventure Land!” I stand up and help him into the back seat. I pull the seatbelt around him and hand over his game.
“What about Daddy? Is he going with us?” He looks at me so hopefully, it breaks my heart.
“Not this time, buddy.” I close the door and climb behind the wheel. Twisting the key with shaking hands, the van fires up and I shift into reverse. I look behind me to back out of the drive, but I have the van packed so full, I can’t see out the rear window. Remembering that I have a backup camera, I look at the screen and release the brake. The van starts to back up slowly. Once in the street, I shift into drive and look at my house one last time.
It really is the picture-perfect family home. Too bad the family that lived inside it was anything but. The two-story house looks beautiful with its white siding and blue shutters. The front porch is covered by a metal roof. The blue front door has a flowered wreath and a welcome mat sits in front of it. I worked extra hard to make this house beautiful—my way of having a little control in a life where I had none. I can’t even count how many hours I’ve spent on my knees planting all the flowers and scrubs that line the walkway.
I shake my head at myself. None of that matters now. All that matters is that Bryce and I get out safely. I hit the gas and don’t look back. I keep my mind trained on the task at hand, not giving myself a moment to think. I focus on getting as far away as possible before Glenn gets off work and finds the house empty. Maybe he’ll think we just ran to the grocery store or that Bryce had a soccer practice that ran a little long. I imagine him sitting in his favorite lounge chair, a glass of scotch in hand as he waits for us to walk through that door. I can picture the anger on his face when he sees the divorce papers waiting for him on the counter and realizes that we’re never walking back in again. That thought makes me press on the gas pedal a little harder.
We drive for hours. Everything we eat is either a snack that I packed or something we’ve grabbed from a drive-through. We only stop for gas, using the bathroom then instead of having to make another stop down the road. I want to drive all night to gain as much distance as I can, but it’s going on ten and I’m feeling stiff. I know Bryce is feeling it too, not to mention all that energy a five-year-old little boy has that he’s been unable to release. With a heavy sigh, I give in and pull into a motel for the night.
“Are we here?” Bryce asks.
I laugh as I shift into park. “Nope, this is just a little pit stop.” I take his hand and help him out before we walk inside. I rent a room for the night and then we load back up into the van so I can park it behind the other cars in the lot instead of leaving it out front and center for anyone to see. I grab the couple of bags that hold our clothes and bathroom supplies, and we go into our one-bed room. The light above the sink is already on, welcoming us. There’s an old TV on the dresser, a table pushed up against the wall, and a bed with two nightstands. Bryce immediately jumps on the bed and turns the TV on. I set our things down and pull the curtains closed tight so nobody can see in. I lock the door and set the chain, so even if someone has a key, they can’t get inside—not without busting the door down, and I wouldn’t put that past Glenn.
“I’m going to get a shower, buddy.” I start gathering up my things.
“Okay,” he mumbles, already zoned out, watching some cartoon.
I bend down in front of him, locking my eyes on his. “I’m going to leave the bathroom door cracked. Do not open the door for anyone. Understand?”
He nods.
“If someone knocks, you come get me. Don’t open the door and don’t look out the window. Got it?”
He nods again and I ruffle his dark hair. “You’re such a smart boy.” I kiss the top of his head as I stand and move toward the bathroom. As I said I would, I leave the bathroom door cracked—closed enough that he can’t see me, but open enough that I don’t feel disconnected from him. I strip down and step into the shower. The hot water feels amazing pouring over my tired, stiff body. I wash my hair and body, shave my legs to draw things out a bit, but then it hits me, what I’m doing. I took my son and I ran away from my husband, his father. Glenn is not the kind to admit defeat. He won’t let me go easily, but he will fight to the death for his son. And I took him. If he’s not hot on my heels already, he will be soon. Panic rises in my chest and my heart pounds harder. Tears sting my eyes and blur my vision. I collapse onto the floor, drawing my knees to my chest. Wrapping my arms around them, I cry. I cry for the man I used to love. I cry for the woman I used to be, back before the drinking and abuse. I think about our wedding day, how happy I’d thought I’d be. I think about our honeymoon. He was so romantic and loving then. I think about my pregnancy and the day Bryce was born. I never would have thought that all that would lead me to where I am now. Alone, running, scared, and trying to hold it all together for my son.
When I exit the bathroom, I find Bryce fast asleep on the bed, still fully clothed. I softly laugh and I remove his socks and shoes. I pull the blanket down and slide him up the bed, pulling the blanket up over him. He stirs slightly but doesn’t wake. He’s always slept like a rock. I turn the lights off in the room and take my place beside him. I leave the TV on but turn it down. If Bryce wakes up during the night, I don’t want him to be scared or not remember where he is. I roll to my side and look at his sleeping face. His dark lashes are fanned out across his cheeks. His button nose is cute and adorable, and his mouth and facial expression are completely relaxed. I brush his dark hair away from his face, and he lets out a little cooing sound just like he did when he was a baby.
I’m not doing this just for myself. I’m doing this for him too. It took Glenn five years to lay a hand on me. How long will it take before he tries the same thing with him? Never. I won’t let it happen. If he finds us, we’ll just pack up and start over somewhere else. I’ll never stop running, not if it means the safety of my son.
“Where have you been?” Glenn asks, following me into the kitchen.
“The grocery store. I had to pick up brownie mix for Bryce’s school’s bake sale.”
He sets his scotch glass down on the counter hard—I’m surprised the glass doesn’t break. “Where is he?” he asks, walking closer.
I refuse to turn around. I know he’s drunk, and I don’t want to deal with him tonight. I’m too tired already from work and running errands. “He’s staying the night with Aiden. I’m going to meet Stacy and the boys at the school in the morning.”
He comes to a stop behind me, his chest pressing against my back. He takes a deep breath, breathing me in. His hand moves up, pushing my dark hair over my shoulder, exposing my neck to him. He presses a soft kiss to the skin. Our marriage has been troubled now for a while. The thought of him kissing me makes my stomach roll.
I roll my head to the side, closing the gap between my head and shoulders. “Not now, Glenn. I have too much stuff to do around here.” I take the brownie mix out one of the bags I’m holding and set them on the counter.
His hands tighten on my hips, and he spins me around to face him. His breath washes over my face, reeking of booze. It makes me want to gag, but I hold it back. “You belong to me. You are my wife. You’ll do as I say.” He smashes his mouth against mine, his tooth cutting into my lips. I know fighting him off will only make him get violent. My best bet is to go along with this, let him wear himself out so he’ll sleep this drunk off and give me the time and distance I need to get things done around the house. His hands rush to push my skirt up my thighs. He rips my panties down my hips and picks me up against him. Without warning, he’s burying himself into me. It hurts. It feels like I’m being ripped in two. Tears sting my eyes, but I will them away, knowing if he sees them, it will only get worse.
I jerk awake, panting and with sweat dripping down my body. My night shirt clings to my chest and stomach. I feel like I’m being smothered. I throw the blankets back and stand up, pacing the floor while trying to calm myself down. That dream, that memory, felt so real. I could smell the alcohol on his breath. I could feel his hands on my body. I shiver with disgust. Sad thing is, that wasn’t even the worst of it. That is one of the better memories. At least then a hospital trip wasn’t involved. I didn’t have to lie to my friends about where all the bruises came from.
I fall down into a chair and pull my knees up to my chest, watching Bryce sleep. All I have to do is get where we’re going. Then all of this will be behind us. We’ll finally have a better life.
I sit up until I almost feel like a normal person again. I’m tired, but the anxiety has simmered down enough now that I can try going back to sleep. I crawl back into bed and Bryce wraps his arm around my neck. I breathe him in deep and his smell soothes me. It only takes minutes before I’m in a deep, dreamless sleep.
In the morning, Bryce takes a shower, and we both get dressed and packed up. We check out of the hotel and go across the street for some breakfast. As we sit, waiting for our order, I fiddle with the phone I bought from a nearby gas station. I left my cell at home, knowing that Glenn could easily track it. But I don’t feel safe driving alone with my young son and no phone at all. I don’t plan on calling any friends because I don’t want to bring them into my mess. I’m sure Glenn is probably already harassing them about my whereabouts. At least this way, they won’t have to lie. But I want the phone in case we end up with a flat tire or break down on the side of the road. I need a way to call for help if needed.
“Yes! I love French toast!” Bryce says when they place his plate down in front of him. His eyes widen as he takes in all the strawberries and whipped cream on top.
I laugh at his excited expression. “Eat up. We’ve got another long day of driving,” I tell him, picking up my fork and taking a bite of scrambled eggs.
2
Clay
“Come on, Jerry. Let’s go check out this farmhouse and see how bad of condition it’s in,” I say, grabbing my keys, wallet, and phone as I head toward the truck.
We both climb inside. “When do we start the job?” Jerry asks, pulling his seat belt across his chest.
I shift into drive and start down the mountain. “Within the next week. I have an appointment set up on Thursday to go over the specifics.”
“And she’s wanting it turned into a bed-and-breakfast?” he replies, almost sounding surprised.
I nod. “Yep, that’s what she said when I talked to her on the phone about it last week.”
He laughs. “I wonder if she realizes that this small town doesn’t see many travelers?”
I shrug. “Doesn’t matter. She’s willing to pay. It’s a job. No questions asked.” I take a sip of my iced sweet tea. “I think it’ll be good for the town though. I mean, the town only has that one motel, and it’s old and outdated. Plus, people love cutesy shit like bed-and-breakfasts.”
He lets out a deep chuckle but doesn’t say anything else as we drive toward our destination. Summer has just started, but already the heat is overwhelming. I reach forward and crank the air conditioning to full blast. We’ve yet to see much rain, so the old gravel roads are especially dusty. Looking into my rearview mirror, I see nothing but a trail of thick white dust following along behind th
e truck. The fields are green and lush, and the crops are growing just as they should. The sky is cloudless, blue with a hot sun hanging high above. It’s days like this that make me want to spend the day laying in my hammock out back just reading, napping, and have glass after glass of iced sweet tea.
My dad always said that beer ran in my veins because of the brewery, but I never cared much for the stuff. Sure, I’ve had many drunken nights in my past, but it’s not something I live off of like my brothers. They really do have beer running through their veins, and now, thanks to Drake, whiskey. I shake my head and almost gag just from thinking about how much of it we consumed the night of the cookout. God, I thought I’d be hungover for days.
I’m actually quite different from my brothers. Colton, he’s always been the one that just wanted to escape our small town and family obligations. He got married and had a baby—a real family man. Weird considering how badly he wanted to get out of all that growing up. Drake, he’s been the go-getter. He wanted everything the family business had to offer. He wanted to fill Dad’s shoes and he has extremely well. Wyatt, he’s the crazy one. He doesn’t care what happens as long as he’s having a good time. And Hudson, well, he’s always been real quiet compared to the rest of us. He’s always wanted more, and he’s worked his ass off in the military to make sure he gets everything he wants out of life.