But, somehow, he’d managed to restrain himself for seven more years. It wasn’t until that Christmas, when she was in her twenties, that he hadn’t been able to deny himself.
“You’re so full of shit,” Ace scoffed.
“Look, is there a point to this?” Mack asked. “Because it’s late, I’ve got a long drive ahead of me and I’d just as soon be on my way.”
“Actually, I do have a point.”
“And that is...”
“Lucas is my point.”
The hair stood up on the back of Mack’s neck. “Your son?”
“That’s just it. Is he my son?” Ace asked, his eyes sparking with tightly leashed fury.
“Far as I know.” Mack wasn’t about to say anything more, not if he could help it. First, he had to establish Lucas’s paternity. Then they could figure out a way to deal with the results.
“You’re saying you don’t think he could be yours?” After reaching inside the house, Ace held up a small journal, which he opened and began to read aloud. “‘God, I’m tired. And I have a big test coming up. I need to concentrate, and yet I can’t quit thinking about Mack finally stripping off our clothes and pressing inside me. Nothing in my life has ever felt so good. I didn’t want to come, because then I knew he’d come and it would all be over. But it was impossible to hold back. I’ve never had a night like that one. The only problem is, I’m not sure what I’m going to tell Ace. Do I stay in the relationship—or get out of it?’”
“That’s enough,” Mack grumbled.
Ace sneered at him but seemed to be choking up at the same time. “Do you want me to give you the date of this entry?”
“No.” He already knew the date. It had been two days before Christmas over seven years ago. He hadn’t been able to forget that night, either.
“That stupid bitch lied to me!” he cried. “She told me she loved me. I never knew she’d been with anyone else, not after I started seeing her. I assumed a pregnancy meant the baby was mine.”
Mack winced. “To be fair, I don’t think she knows any different.”
“She had to have known there was a possibility!” His voice had been rising all along; now he was shouting. “Tell her I don’t want anything to do with her ever again. Tell her I will never even look at Lucas, never come near him, never be his dad. She used me. She used me because she couldn’t have you. And now she’s wrecked my life,” he said and slammed the door.
Natasha would never have purposely used Ace or anyone else. She wasn’t the type. She must’ve thought she loved him enough to make it work—to create the family she’d always wanted and never had. Or she wouldn’t have married him. But Mack still felt partially responsible. The way he’d responded to that night had been wrong. He was sorry for that, but he couldn’t change the past. So what did he do now? And, more specifically, how did he react in this moment? Ace still had Natasha’s journal and pictures, and he obviously wasn’t planning on giving them back.
Mack stood on the stoop, trying to decide if he should risk a fight by pushing the issue. He wanted to, but even if he banged on the door, he doubted Ace would answer.
“What a mess,” he muttered as he returned to his truck.
Once he was behind the wheel, he called Natasha.
Her voice was thick with sleep when she answered. “You okay?” she asked.
“I’m fine.”
“Did you get my stuff?”
“Um, ran into a small wrinkle there.”
“What happened?” Her voice was much clearer now. The surprise had woken her up.
“Ace is a little upset.”
“Why?”
“Apparently, he found an old journal inside your box of pictures.”
“A journal?”
“Yep.”
She went quiet. Then she said, “Oh. My. God.”
“Yeah.”
“He read it?”
“He did.” Mack didn’t add that he’d read it aloud to him, as well.
“And? Did it get ugly between you?”
“Not too bad, but he says he wants nothing more to do with you or Lucas.”
This declaration was met with silence. After she’d had a chance to process it, she said, “He doesn’t want to wait until we find out for sure?”
“He was upset, didn’t seem concerned with proof. He may come back later and demand it, but we should have the results by then.”
“I should’ve burned that journal,” she said, so low he could barely hear her.
“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” he said. “You’ve been through a lot. You’re physically and emotionally exhausted.”
“Yeah, I am,” she admitted. “And as nice as you’ve always been to me, I wish I’d never met you.”
She disconnected and Mack let his head fall onto the steering wheel. He couldn’t believe this had to happen, especially before Natasha could get back on her feet and feel strong enough to take another blow.
He started the engine and was about to head back to Silver Springs. But he couldn’t let Ace keep Natasha’s pictures. Once they were lost, they’d be gone for good. And she already had such a meager endowment from her childhood.
Putting the truck back in Park, he released his seat belt and got out. As far as he was concerned, Natasha and Lucas would both be better off without Ace. The dude could get the hell out of their lives if he wanted to, but he wasn’t going to hang on to Natasha’s belongings just to spite her.
As Mack stalked up the walkway, he saw the curtain move in the front window. Ace had been watching him. Good. Now he could open up and hand over her stuff, or Mack would bang on the door until he did. “Listen, I know you’re pissed off,” he called through the panel. “Maybe you have a right to be. What’s happened hasn’t been good for any of us, and I’m sorry if I’m to blame. But I can promise you that Natasha has never tried to hurt anyone. She’s not that kind of person. When she married you, she must’ve loved you and believed Lucas belonged to you. So give me her things, and after I take a paternity test, I’ll let you know the results. Fair enough?”
The door shuddered beneath a violent blow. “You can go to hell!” Ace shouted.
“The two of you are divorced,” Mack reasoned. “You have no right to keep her pictures. You have no use for them.”