I can’t believe this is happening. I can’t believe Georgie instigated this. Not the girl who begged her grandmother to let us be together. Who said she loved me.
A detective slides in next to me. “I suppose even little girls want revenge when the man they’re pregnant for is escorting an actress on the French Riviera.”
If my hands weren’t cuffed, I’d break the asshole’s nose. Seething, I sit back and swear Georgie is going to suffer for what she’s done to me.
If it takes me the rest of my life, I’ll get my revenge.
The End
TEXT SUBJECT TO CHANGE
? 2015 Kathryn Kelly
Incendiary
SNEAK PEEK
“Let me see her.”
Mom reaches for my baby girl, ignoring the fact that I’m breastfeeding Bryn.
I bend my head and brush my lips against her wrinkly forehead. Grandma says she gorgeous, but at just over a day old, she still resembles a little old man. It wasn’t easy to nurse her. The staff was threatening to put her on the bottle, until I got them to leave the two of us alone, so I could figure it out myself. Now that I have, Mom wants her. I think not. “No.”
“Georgianna—“
“Go away, Mom,” I demand. No way in hell will I allow her to get anywhere near Bryn. I don’t trust her. This is the third time I’ve been in the hospital in a little over a year and the first she’s deigned to visit me. Not for me. For Bryn. Sloane’s baby. “I have nothing to say to you.”
Her lips thin but the opening door prevents her response. Grandma floats in, looking less than pleased to see Mom, who flushes as if she’s been caught doing something she shouldn’t have done.
“You and Bryn are being discharged, Georgiana,” Grandma says briskly.
There’s something frantic about her. Or, maybe, I’m paranoid. I’ve lived in an agitated upheaval for years.
Before I respond, I switch Bryn to my other breast and grunt at the release of milk. “As soon as I’m finished feeding her, I’ll pack my things and—“
A woman walks in holding a bible. She wears a dark gray suit with a white collar, appearing like a female prelate…I squint. Only Bryn’s whine snaps the tense unease building inside of me.
In silence, they watch me, extinguishing the hope that Grandma will send Mom on her way. While I finish feeding my daughter and she falls asleep, two additional women have arrived to pack my clothes and lay out the frilly nightgown and robe I chose for this occasion.
Bryn is snatched out of my arms by the cleric-y woman. The baby makes a whine of protest but is soothed back to sleep within moments.
“Give her back to me,” I demand, panic turning my blood to ice. I attempt to lunge for her but Grandma steps in my path. “You promised!”
Her jaw clamps and I grab the lapels of her dark green jacket. “Don’t take her from me.”
“No one’s taking the child away from you, Georgiana.”
The words ping through the room like icicles falling to the ground, but she moves aside and allows me to see Bryn still safely asleep in the other woman’s arms. Mom stares at her. Afraid of what’s going through my mother’s mind, I flinch.
“Hurry.”
Wanting Bryn away from Mom ASAP, I don’t waste another second at Grandma’s urging. Ten minutes later, I’m dressed in the blue and white lace and silk, bemoaning the fact that I can’t dress Bryn in her matching outfit but breathing a sigh of relief when she’s placed into my lap once I’m sitting in the wheelchair.
Surrounded by Grandma, Mom and the other women, I’m wheeled to the elevator. On the first floor, I’m shocked at the lack of activity. It’s the middle of the day and this is a busy place.
The doors slide open and bright sunlight glares on me. I make sure Bryn’s eyes are covered with the thin blanket, sighing at the Mercedes limousine. As much as I love the Roadsters, every time I see a sedan of the car, it bodes ill for me.
“Bitch!” a shrill voice screams a moment before an egg splatters against my head.
My first reaction is to lean over Bryn and protect her. The car doors open and four men swarm me. I hear the crack and splat of another egg but their bodies are shielding me.
“She ruined Sloane.”
Hands tug at Bryn and I shove at them. “We’re getting her to the car, Georgiana,” Kiln whispers.
I didn’t know I’d squeezed my eyes shut until they pop open at his voice. Hatred wells up in me. He set me up some kind of way. Whoever called from that unknown number brought Sloane down. News of his arrest, supposedly because of my police report, sent me into labor. I would never hurt Sloane in such a way, although I wouldn’t put it past Kiln to have done it himself.
“Later,” he says impatiently as if he knows I want to gut him. “We have to get you and the baby to safety first.”