Page 72 of Broken Vows
“Are you kidding?” she demands. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”
Francine and Bradley Delcourt have finally fallen back a step, giving Lynley some breathing room. Francine looks confused, but Bradley’s already caught up, his wary eyes fixed on me.
“Lynnie—” Christopher starts plaintively.
Lynley holds a hand out, stopping him in his tracks. “Even if I did cheat, you’d be the last person to scold meabout it. Or should we talk about the fact that youfucked.my.sister?”
His parents spin around to gape at their son, whose forehead is shiny with perspiration. Christopher looks around wildly, the whites of his eyes showing, and I can’t believe the idiot didn’t expect Lynley to clap back, considering how he left things the last time she saw him.
“What is she talking about?” his mother asks stridently. “Please tell me she’s lying.” Francine shoots Lynley a dirty look, but when her eyes clash with my menacing glare, she quickly looks away.
“You told us that everything was a misunderstanding.” Bradley clears his throat, still watching me, aware of who the apex predator is here. I show him my teeth in a facsimile of a smile, but it doesn’t appear to comfort him at all.Shame.“Christopher, you said that you and Lynley were fixing things.”
The tips of his ears go red. “And if I were,” he hisses viciously, “how the hell would the two of you ambushing her in the middle of the street have gone down? What the fuck were you trying to do?”
“Well,” Lynley interrupts, her voice filled with more amusement than this clusterfuck deserves. Still, I lift a hand and rub my own smirk off my lips with my thumb. “As fun as this is”—she makes a show of checking the time on her phone—“we actually need to go.” She looks up at me sweetly. “It’s almost time to pick the kids up from school.”
Christopher jerks like he has been struck by lightning. “Don’t tell me you’re actually together,” he rasps. “How did you even meet him?”
Lynley laughs again, and the worry I felt when I came out and found her standing with the Delcourts fades away. She’s stronger than she gives herself credit for, and I won’ttake this moment away from her. Just the fact that she knows I’ve got her back is enough.
“It’s a funny story, actually,” she tells him conversationally. “I turned up to Reynolds & Media to catch you in the act of fucking someone else, and Grafton and I…” She turns enough so she can reach up and cup my cheek. “We ran into each other, I guess. And the rest is history.”
Christopher sways, looking like he might actually keel over, and his mother rushes to his side, grabbing his arm. “I don’t know what’s wrong with you,” she snarls at Lynley. “Our family gave you everything.”
“Not everything,” Lynley sing-songs. “I was lucky enough to miss out on any STIs, but I’m actually really grateful for that, so”—she schools her expression into something solemn—“thank you. Sincerely.”
I snort, unable to help myself, and Lynley grins up at me, clearly proud that she made me laugh. Christopher’s watching us, his lip curled, but I couldn’t give a shit about what he thinks. He threw his family away like they meant nothing, and I’m not thinking twice about selfishly taking them for myself.
He’s seen the kids twice since the day that Lynley demanded he sign the papers. The first time, she let him pick them up from the house. He took them to some fancy seafood restaurant one night where Ginny ended up puking under the table. A couple of weeks later, there was an awkward ice cream trip where Mase came home and proudly told me he didn’t say a single word to his father the entire time.
It is obvious now that Christopher isn’t even going to ask after the kids—not about Mase’s baseball season and how his team had made it to the semifinals. And not about how Ginny decided she no longer wants tobe a ballerina. Now my little dancer has decided she is going to be an Olympic swimmer, and only gold medals will do.
Lynley has been swinging back and forth over the desire to release the information she has on Christopher, but, so far, she’s always managed to land on the conclusion that it could do more damage than good, especially when it comes to the kids. She isn’t prepared to risk it, and I am managing to respect that decision…but if this motherfucker keeps glaring at my woman, the gloves will come right the fuck off.
Francine lifts her free hand, trembling fingers smoothing her hair back from her face. “I’m not sure I understand what’s happening.” She narrows muddy brown eyes at me in censure. “Who are you?”
“Francine—” Bradley starts, but my grin has already sharpened. I let go of Lynley and step forward, holding a hand out. Christopher stumbles back as Francine places cold fingers in mine.
“Grafton Reynolds,” I say smoothly, and she blanches. “I would say it’s a pleasure to meet you, but this has been anything but.” I drop her hand and step back, making a show of wiping my own hand off on my pants. “Now that everyone appears to have had their say, it’s my turn.”
“Now, see here—” Bradley blusters, but I silence him with one steely look.
“You know who I am,” I say with certainty and no small amount of arrogance. It’s the persona that has carried me through years of boardroom meetings and cutting men full of hot air—like Bradley—down to size with little more than a few razor-edged words. “And you know what I’m capable of when I’m pushed. Lynley is prepared to treat you and your family with kindness, given your relation to Mase and Ginny.” I keep my stance loose and nonthreatening, but Idon’t blink as I lock eyes with Bradley. “Obviously, I am not Lynley.”
She steps forward, her arm brushing against mine. I don’t hesitate, sliding an arm around her waist, and she leans into me, silent and trusting as we show them we’re a united front—and I love her all the more for it. I know this isn’t how she wanted to handle things, but she also never dared to think they would actually accost her so openly.
And the second they tried to make her the villain in this story?
Well, that’s when I marked them for ruin.
Bradley’s jaw goes taut as he looks at Christopher. “What the fuck have you done?”
“Oh,” Lynley murmurs, ducking her head, but I can see the smirk she’s trying to hide. “Didn’t he tell you? The young girl Christopher knocked up? Her name is Angelica Reynolds.” She leans forward, dropping her voice to a whisper. “She’s Grafton’s niece.”
Francine sags like all the air has been sucked right out of her body, and suddenly, it’sChristopherholdingherup. “Mother…”
“And your sister?” Bradley rasps, eyes on Lynley.
