One Heir...or Two? Read online

  Kayla brushed tears from her cheeks. It was all her fault. She trusted people. Always. Now it had bitten her well and truly in the backside. The hard reality of what this meant pressed down on her like a ton of lead.

  “Think, Kayla, think. And breathe. You can’t lose it now,” she said firmly to herself, desperately trying to calm the shudders that now began to ripple through her body.

  She tried to center herself—to breathe in slow and deep and find the inner calm that was usually never far from the surface of her mind—but all to no avail. The police hadn’t been optimistic about her chances of getting her money back. Despite the information she’d given them about Zoe, she was just one opportunistic thief in a great big city full of them. She could even have gone out of state by now.

  What the heck was she going to do? Her mind remained a blank. It was hopeless. She was hopeless. She needed money—those precious savings had been for her babies’ future and to help her raise them, not to mention covering rent and utilities while she couldn’t work—but who would loan her what she needed? The bank clearly wouldn’t be any help, since they seemed to hold her responsible for losing the money in her account. She didn’t have any family left. Most of her friends were in the same financial situation as she had been before she’d decided to have Sienna’s kids—choosing to live in the present rather than plan for the future. So, if her friends were out, who did that leave?

  One name whispered through her mind, making her nerves vibrate with tension and a swarm of butterflies skitter about in her stomach—Van Murphy. Even though he’d made his position painfully clear today, perhaps with time he’d soften his stance. Surely any man with a shred of decency left in him would want to help his children? It wasn’t as if he was strapped for cash.

  But no, she remembered the coldness on his face as he’d threatened to keep her from using Sienna’s remaining embryos. He wouldn’t help her. In fact, he’d do whatever he could to stop her.

  There was no way she could afford a legal battle—especially against the kind of lawyers he could afford. She’d have to scrape together whatever resources remained and go through the procedure without any kind of nest egg.

  The alternative was giving up on those babies and her promise to her sister completely—and that was something she would never do.

  * * *

  Van ended the call with his lawyer and calmly and deliberately slid his cell phone back into his pocket. He didn’t dare move, or he might destroy something, although right now a bar brawl would come in handy to help him relieve the anger that infused every cell in his body.

  She’d gone and done it.

  Despite what he’d said, or maybe in spite of it, she’d carried on with the transfer of Sienna’s remaining embryos before he could arrange an injunction to stop her. Two embryos, to be precise, if his lawyer’s information was correct. Van slowly let go of the breath he’d been holding and focused on the picture on the wall of his office. Normally the vista, painted from the balcony of his home overlooking the sea on the Monterey Peninsula, calmed him. Reminded him of just how far he’d come. But nothing calmed him now.

  This was his worst nightmare come to life.

  For the first time in a long time, he was lost for what to do. Automatically he pulled out his car keys. He shrugged into his suit jacket and walked down the corridor and into his private elevator. Down in the parking garage, he slid onto the fine dove-gray leather seat of his late-model Audi and activated the GPS—inputting the address he’d committed to memory about two hours after Kayla had left his office just over a month ago.

  He hadn’t wanted to see her again—hadn’t wanted to need to have this conversation—but with her decision to ignore his wishes, he had no other option. Anger rolled in waves beneath the surface, forcing him to utilize every last ounce of training he’d ever endured to keep it under control. One step at a time, he reminded himself. His primary objective right now was to see her, talk to her. What he wanted to say—well, he had no idea yet, nothing civil, anyway, but he knew something would come to him.

  The roads were relatively quiet heading out of the city and he made the journey to Lakeshore in good time. Van’s brows pulled into a frown when he saw the red-and-blue flashing lights as he drove up to Kayla’s apartment building. He got out of his car and locked the doors.

  He scanned the numbers on the rows of apartments and his frown deepened as he saw that Kayla’s was very near where two police cars jutted out from the curb, along with an ambulance. Even from where he was, Van could hear the angry yelling of a woman the cops were guiding toward one of the cruisers.

  “You owe me, Kayla! You owe me! You were supposed to help.”

  Van’s blood ran cold. Had this crazy woman attacked Kayla? He quickened his step and drew closer to the crowd that had gathered on the sidewalk. Two police officers tried to restrain the wild-eyed woman, who spat and bucked and twisted and fought them with every step. Where the hell was Kayla in all this? Van looked up to a second-story balcony where a curtain billowed out through a broken glass slider. Without realizing he’d made a decision, he pushed his way through the crowd and started toward the building, only to be stopped by another officer on the sidewalk.

  “Sir, you can’t go up there.”

  Like hell he couldn’t. “Kayla Porter, where is she?”

  “And you are?” The officer gave him a hard stare.

  “A friend. A family friend,” he emphasized.

  “She’s over there in the ambulance, sir, with the baby.”

  Ambulance? A cold rush of fear washed through him. Was she hurt? Was the baby hurt? Without another word to the officer, he strode toward the ambulance. As he neared the back of the vehicle, he spied Kayla inside, a stark white dressing on her forehead. His gut knotted until he saw the sleeping baby in her arms—not crying, not visibly injured, he noted almost immediately. He felt his taut muscles begin to ease. They were okay. A ridiculous sense of relief coursed through him, replacing the chill of alarm that had been there only seconds ago.

  From the look on Kayla’s pale face, she was shaken, but aside from that dressing, it looked like she and Sienna were all right. Kayla hadn’t seen him yet. Her eyes were fixed on the woman being bundled into the back of the patrol car. Even from here he could see the way shock and strain had drawn Kayla’s blanched features into a mask of horror and disbelief. She grew visibly paler at the vitriol being flung at her by the woman as one of the officers closed the back door of the cruiser and the vehicle pulled away. A paramedic moved inside the ambulance, blocking Van’s view. As much as it frustrated him, he reminded himself it was okay for now. Kayla was getting the care she needed. The baby was fine. There was nothing else he could do right now but wait.

  After another ten minutes he saw Kayla being helped down to the street. He resisted the urge to rush forward. A female officer led Kayla and Sienna back across the street and into the building. He followed them up the stairs.

  The front door to what had to be Kayla’s apartment was wide open. He stepped through the threshold, his gaze instantly assessing the chaos inside—the overturned side tables, the broken lamp, the cupboard doors hanging open—their shelves denuded of whatever had been inside.

  “Sir, this is a crime scene. Please go back downstairs,” the officer instructed when she caught sight of him.

  “I’m a friend of Ms. Porter’s,” he repeated, then forced himself to say his next words. “And the father of the baby.”

  “Is that right, Kayla? Do you want him here?”

  Kayla came through a doorway and closed it quietly behind her. The second her eyes lit on him, she seemed to jolt in surprise. Shock, rapidly followed by something else—guilt, probably, he surmised, since she likely knew good and well why he was here—shot across her face.

  “Yes, that’s okay,” she said. She averted her gaze and studiously avoided lo
oking at him again.

  The officer turned to Van. “Fine,” she said. “You can come in.”

  He gave the woman a curt nod and moved farther inside, picking his way through the debris to where Kayla stood near an overturned sofa. Shudders racked her body even though the evening air coming through the broken window was pretty mild for May. She was clearly feeling the effects of whatever had transpired here. Looking around, he knew it couldn’t have been pleasant. Van shucked off his suit jacket and placed it over her shoulders. She flinched at his touch as his hands briefly rested on her upper arms, but she didn’t refuse the warmth his jacket offered.

  He waited patiently while she gave her statement, his hands curled into impotent fists as she described the invasion of her home by a woman she’d once trusted. But his interest sharpened at the officer’s next words.

  “And you say this is the woman who cleared out your bank account last month?”

  “I... I can’t talk about this right now,” she said, glancing at Van, her voice jittering with nerves.

  “Don’t let me stop you making a full statement,” Van responded smoothly. “Give the officer the information she needs.”

  At his prompting, Kayla carried on, although he sensed she was choosing her words carefully because of him. But no amount of care could disguise the facts, and by the end of her statement he was boiling under the surface. Not only had she brought some homeless person into her apartment, she’d left Sienna with her on a regular basis. Was she completely out of her mind? Van swallowed back the fierce wave of frustration that clogged his throat. He’d just have to bide his time until they were alone so he could have this out with Kayla.

  He didn’t have to wait much longer before the officer was leaving, with an admonition to Kayla to get her locks changed in the morning.

  “I’ll take care of it tonight,” Van said firmly. “Thank you, officer.”

  The woman looked from him to Kayla and back again. Then, with a slight nod, she closed the door behind her. Van turned to face Kayla. Silence stretched out between them like a palpable being. He couldn’t hold back a moment longer.

  “What the hell were you thinking?”

  “Tonight? How to stay alive, mostly.”

  Her attitude did nothing to assuage the burning anger that smoldered deep inside him.

  “Nice try, Kayla. You know that’s not what I’m talking about. You owe me an explanation and I’m not leaving until I get it.”

  Three

  Kayla righted an armchair and sank into it. She was shattered. If having Zoe return to her apartment, tripping out on the drugs she’d spent all of Kayla’s hard-earned savings on, hadn’t been enough, now she had to deal with Van, as well?

  She swallowed against the sudden dryness in her throat and looked at him. While she might not have been able to see the fury that emanated off him in waves, she could certainly feel it.

  “Can’t this wait until tomorrow? As you can see, I have a lot on my plate right now.”

  Her head ached where one of Zoe’s missiles had caught her on the forehead and Kayla gingerly touched the dressing the paramedic had put over the cut and closed her eyes. She sensed rather than saw Van move to her side.

  “Are you okay? Do you need further medical attention?”

  She let her hand drop into her lap and opened her eyes again. “No, I’m okay. It was a glancing blow. Nothing major. I’m just really tired right now. I’m not up for a big argument.” She dredged up the last of her courage and fired her next words straight at him. “Perhaps you could call and make an appointment.”

  He looked startled for a second and then reluctantly amused. But frustration and fury soon took over again. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily. You know exactly why I’m here. You owe me answers and I’m not leaving until I get them.”

  “They’ll have to wait until I can get this all sorted out,” she said with a weary wave of her hand at the mess that was once her sitting room and kitchen.

  “Fine. We do that, then we talk.”

  “Van, no. It’s late, I’m tired and I just want to go to bed.”

  “Without changing the lock? With that hole in your sliding door?”

  She just shook her head, unable to find words. Tonight had been terrifying. When Zoe had shown up, letting herself in with her old key and demanding more money from Kayla, she’d thought she could talk the other woman down. How wrong had she been? Zoe went crazy and grabbed Sienna from her crib, making wild threats. Kayla didn’t stop to think. Maternal instinct simply took over and she launched herself at Zoe. Both of them fell onto the bed and she tussled with her, determined to free her little girl from the madwoman’s clutches. It was the last thing Zoe had anticipated and Kayla quickly wrested her baby free. After putting Sienna back in her crib, Kayla shoved Zoe out of the bedroom and barricaded them both inside. Sienna screamed her lungs out through the whole ordeal.

  Zoe went completely over the edge at that stage and all Kayla could do was listen helplessly while the other woman destroyed the rest of the apartment. She couldn’t even call the police, because her phone was in the living room. Thankfully, several of her neighbors had heard the commotion.

  Another shudder racked her body. It had been only two days since the implantation procedure. She wasn’t supposed to undertake any strenuous activity and things had gotten pretty strenuous when she and Zoe had struggled together—not to mention the strain of dragging her grandmother’s old wooden dresser across the door to stop Zoe from breaking her way back into the bedroom. Already she could feel aches and pains in every part of her body. She wrapped her arms across her stomach, holding herself tight. She couldn’t lose the babies, not now.

  “Kayla?”

  Van said her name impatiently, forcing her to drag her thoughts together.

  “I’m insured. I’ll call someone after I get a hold of the building manager to report the damage,” she said weakly.

  “And how long do you think it’ll take before they can get contractors here? Leave it to me.”

  Without waiting for her response, Van pulled up a number on his cell phone and started talking. She dropped her head against the back of the chair and closed her eyes again, opening them only when he finished his call.

  “A team will be here in about thirty minutes.”

  He could do that? Just how much pull did he have these days? She didn’t want to think about the answer to that question. Van gave her a look, as if he could see exactly what she was thinking.

  “You look awful,” he said. “Can I get you anything?”

  “Sure, a million dollars would be nice, since you’re asking,” she answered flippantly, then cringed, realizing that probably wasn’t going to help her cause.

  She hastened to head him off before he verbalized some cutting comeback. “I’m sorry. It’s just the shock talking. Maybe...” She turned toward the kitchen, staring at the empty cupboards, some doors hanging drunkenly on their hinges. “I’d have said a cup of tea would be good about now, but she’s trashed the kitchen, hasn’t she?”

  “Leave it to me,” Van said again, righting Sienna’s high chair on his way through the mess. He picked up her battered electric kettle and held it aloft. “We have progress,” he said, then proceeded to rinse it out before refilling it and plugging it back in to heat. While he waited, he started to put things back in the cupboards—what hadn’t been smashed to pieces, at least.

  “You don’t have to do that,” she protested.

  “You said you’ll talk when this is all cleaned up. I’m cleaning up.”

  The not-so-subtle reminder that he still expected to talk with her tonight did not go unnoticed. While Kayla sipped her tea, Van continued to work through the kitchen, setting it to rights as much as he could. Broken crockery went in a cardboard box. Undamaged food was stacked in the sma
ll pantry. Steadily, he restored order. By the time his crew arrived, he was almost done with the kitchen.

  Kayla was surprised at the men who came through her front door. One had a prosthetic leg, another severe burn scars down one side of his face and neck, along with several missing fingers. After greeting Van with a camaraderie that obviously went back years, they got to work fast—replacing the shattered pane in her sliding door and putting in new locks. While they worked, Van made and received several calls. Kayla could do nothing but watch and tell them where she wanted the remaining unbroken pieces of furniture set. She thought they were finally all done, but when she saw them begin to install a wireless security system, she started to protest.

  “Van, what’s that? I don’t need some fancy security system and I certainly can’t afford it, either.”

  “Humor me,” he said darkly. “Security is my business, and, correct me if I’m wrong, it is my daughter in that bedroom, and those are my children you’re carrying, aren’t they?”

  If she was still carrying them. “Y-yes,” she managed to say on the swell of emotion that threatened to overwhelm her.

  It was the first time she’d heard him actually acknowledge the babies as his. The intimation that he’d take care of them, all of them, was loud and clear. Relief seeped through her whole body. He was going to help her. Hadn’t he just said as much?

  It was after midnight when his team finished. Van saw them to the door and locked it behind them. Double locked and chained, Kayla noted. She fought back a yawn as Van walked back toward her, pocketing one set of keys and handing the other set to her.

  “You’re keeping a set?” she asked, a little confused.

  “Let’s call it protecting my investment,” he said cryptically.