Page 6 of Written with Regret (The Regret Duet 1)
I snatched it from his hand and, with blood roaring in my ears, opened it.Caven,
I’m sorry. I never meant for this to happen. This is our daughter Keira. I’ll love her forever. Take care of her the way I can’t.
Written with regret,
HadleyThe hall began to spin, my head feeling like every ounce of blood had been drained from my body. The thundering in my ears faded and the loud chatter of my guests, who were suddenly aware that something was happening at the door, roared to life.
And then the chaos finally found me all over again—the past playing out in my head like my life flashing before my eyes.
I knew Hadley. If that was even her real name. Or more accurately… I’d known Hadley—for one night. We’d met at a bar. She was stunning, with waves of thick, red hair that had caught my attention the minute I’d walked through the door. Upon approach, I realized that it was her eyes that made her the most mesmerizing woman I’d ever seen because they weren’t the bright-green irises that flashed on the back of my lids every night as I woke up in a cold sweat. She seemed a little dry and serious, but she had a sharp, sarcastic wit. The physical attraction was mutual, and two drinks later, we were back at my apartment, naked, and fucking until we were on the verge of a coma.
Or at least I had been nearly comatose.
Hadley, on the other hand, had more than enough energy to ransack my apartment before taking off with my computer, iPad, cell phone, and wallet. The very same wallet that contained the only thing I’d had left of my mother.
I’d immediately called the police when I’d realized what she’d done, but short of a few red hairs left behind on the pillowcase, Hadley had all but vanished.
Until tonight.
“Caven?” Ian called. “What’s it say?”
I sucked in a deep breath and looked at the baby in his arms. The blanket had fallen off its head just enough to reveal a patch of fine hairs, more orange than its mother’s red.
I hadn’t heard from Hadley in over eight months. It seemed awfully convenient that she’d reappeared long enough to dump a child she claimed to be mine on the night the Kaleidoscope deal had been finalized and the contents of my bank account had become public knowledge.
“Call the police,” I declared, turning on a toe and walking back into my apartment, leaving Ian standing in the hall with Hadley’s child.
Shoving through the crowd of concerned onlookers, I headed straight to the bottles of liquor lining the counter. I didn’t bother with ice or even a glass. I threw back that bottle of vodka, hoping like hell the burn of the alcohol could numb the panic coursing through my veins.
Through it all, that baby never stopped crying.CAVEN“Do you have any reason to believe the child is yours?” the older, gray-haired police officer asked.
Avoiding his gaze, I stared blankly at the screen of my laptop as Kaleidoscope booted up, all the while fighting the urge to throw up or tear out of my skin and run as far away from that apartment as I could get—possibly both.
In the twenty minutes since we’d found the baby, I’d spent all of them thinking back on my night with Hadley.
I wasn’t an idiot. When your sex life revolved around one-night stands or the occasional repeat performance, protection wasn’t optional. I had a busy life, and if I didn’t have time for a relationship, I sure as shit didn’t have time for herpes or a toddler. I’d worn a condom every damn time I’d been with a woman for as long as I could remember. And that night with Hadley, I’d gone through at least four.
But it was the one time, when I’d woken up to her riding my cock, that was currently torturing my thoughts.
One time. One fucking time.
“Mr. Hunt?” the cop prompted.
Squeezing my eyes closed, I hung my head. “I don’t know. Maybe.” Oh, God. Maybe.
“Right,” he muttered. “Well, do you happen to remember Hadley’s last name?”
I looked up from my computer to scowl. “If I did, I probably would’ve mentioned that when she robbed me.” I cut my eyes to the team of paramedics huddled around my couch, inspecting the baby. It was still shrieking to the point that I feared the soundwaves were going to split my head.
Christ. How had I gone from chugging champagne and celebrating a multimillion-dollar business deal to listening to a baby who may or may not be mine screaming its head off?
Everyone, including Veronica, had left. Turns out, having a baby dumped on your doormat was a real mood killer. Ian was still there though, quietly standing in the corner, typing away on his cell phone. Every so often, he’d pause to ask how I was doing.
