“Then there’s nothing to explain, is there?” I snap in his face.

Again, he doesn’t react, other than a small draw down of his brows. I shake myself. This is not an argument I want to get into, even if Rav is bringing up all sorts of buried feelings. All I care about is my daughter.

“Are you going to do the test or not?” I demand, my patience wearing thin.

“I want to see her.”

My heart rate kicks up a notch at his words. “No.”

Maybe it’s selfish to say it, considering the man could be her father, but I don’t want any of the filth of my past to touch her, to taint her. It’s unjust, since Rav never did a thing wrong, but he’s still part of that other life—a life that built me up and then tore me down. It destroyed the girl I was, changed everything I thought about myself and left me with nightmares that still haunt me. It changed him too. There is plenty more darkness in him now.

His face contorts with rage.

“Sasha, if she’s mine or there’s even a hint she could be mine, I want to know my daughter, and if you think you’re going to stop me—”

“You don’t get a say in this. I raised her alone. I went through labour and night feeds and getting up when she was sick or scared. I’m the one who has sat with her in hospitals across London. Me. I did that. She’s mine.”

“You didn’t exactly give me a fucking choice in that, babe.” The ‘babe’ is said with venom behind it and it grinds on my already grated nerves.

“It was your fault I wa—” I cut myself off, not wanting to rehash the past. Not wanting to get into a debate with him.

“My fault, what?”

“Just forget it.” When I start to turn away, he grabs my wrist. I drag my arm away, tired of being manhandled by him. He doesn’t attempt to grab me again, but leans at the waist to get in my face.

“No, I won’t just forget it. What the fuck happened between you two?”

I swallow down my disgust as memories flash across my mind. My skin still crawls, no matter how many hot showers I take. I can’t erase Sin’s touch. “Just do the test. Then I’ll be out of your life again.”

There’s a begging tone to my voice that grates on my own nerves, and I can tell it grates on his too. I’m not someone who begs, ever, but for Lily-May, I will do whatever it takes.

“Whether you’re in my life or not ain’t your choice anymore, sweetheart.”

“Rav—”

“No, you should have thought about that before your sweet mouth told me I could be a father.” He pushes his fingers through his hair. “You take me to see her and I’ll do your fucking test.”

I’m backed into a corner here, and with no choice, I do the only thing I can. I agree.

“Okay. Follow me, but you do anything to upset her and I’ll cut your fucking balls off.”

8

Ravage

I’m on edge as I step into that room behind Sasha, my gaze lingering on the slim build of her hips and her narrow dainty shoulders that seem to carry the weight of the world on them. It’s been years, but she still has the ability to make me hard just with a look, like some kind of fucking Siren. I hate that she can, but watching her brings back memories of our past, memories of a time when I thought I could do or be anything with her by my side.

Reality was far different.

Her hair, which was longer when we were together, is cut to her chin now. It suits her, but I miss the longer waves she had. It was the perfect length to wrap my fist in while fucking her from behind. This new look makes her seem harder, sharper even. Then again everything about her seems harder now, like life has chipped away at all her soft edges.

The urge to take her pouty mouth, to run my fingers through her hair, mark and claim her is overwhelming, but I keep it locked down. I keep my steel shutters up. I can’t let her in, not even for a second.

I pull my gaze from her, and my stomach clenches as my gaze roves around the room. I have no clue if this kid is mine or Sin’s, but no child should end up somewhere like this. She should be running around doing kid things, not fighting for every next breath.

I want to be pissed about the fact this kid could be my brother’s, but all my anger flees the moment I set my sight on her. Whatever happens, she’s family, and that means something to me. Family is everything.

I move closer to the bed, peering down at her. The little girl is lying on her back, wires and tubes snaking out from under her pyjamas. She’s tiny and delicate and everything me and Sasha are not—innocent.

There’s a pallor to her already pale skin that tells me she’s ill, and if it didn’t, the machinery bleeping at the side of the cot bed, keeping her functioning, would.

The smell of antiseptics and cleaning fluids are heavy in the air, mingling with the scent of sickness. It’s choking and I cough a little as I move towards the bed.

The kid doesn’t wake as I stare into her face, trying to see me in her features, but while there are some noticeable attributes that I could say come from my side of the family, she’s Sash in miniature—apart from the hair colouring.

My eyes move to the board over the bed where ‘Lily-May Montgomery’ is scrawled. That pisses me off. She should be a Jenkins. There shouldn’t be any doubt about who her father is.

I jump down on my anger. Now is not the time to let rip. Even so, what-if scenarios race through my mind as I think about the life I could have had if Sash hadn’t been unfaithful, if my brother hadn’t betrayed me. It would be me sitting at this kid’s bedside, doing everything I could to keep her breathing.

I understand Sasha’s determination to get us tested. If she is mine, I’d walk on fire for her.

If she is mine, I will.

Looking at her, it’s impossible to tell either way. I look too much like Sin to see past the familial similarities.

Sasha doesn’t offer any words or explanations. She just stands on the other side of the bed, running her fingers over her daughter’s hair.

“The transplant will help?” I ask.

“It’s her last chance. I already tested, but I’m not a full match. Her father might be, though.”

My jaw clenches at this information as I think of her with Sin. I should have murdered that little fucker.

The urge to spit vitriol at her is squashed by the little girl sleeping in the bed. She tempers my response.

Unable to stand there any longer, conjuring pictures of what our future could have looked like, conjuring images of the thing that tore us apart, I stride from the room, raking my fingers through my hair.

As soon as I’m in the hallway, my hands go to the back of my neck and I stare up at the ceiling as I roar out a, “Fuck!”

Sasha doesn’t say a word. She watches my outburst with a quiet disinterest that pisses me off. I’d rather she spit venom back. That would give me a reason to offload all this anger inside me.

“I want a paternity test.” Saying these words loosens some of the heaviness in my chest, but the ripple of panic that goes across her face confuses me.

Shouldn’t she want to know this too?

“No.”

“I wasn’t asking, darlin’. I want that test.”