an OB-GYN. According to Blaire, most of the women in both towns go to Portland for prenatal care, which is absurd.
Hayes and Blaire plan on hiring a couple of specialists, including a midwife and an obstetrician. Parrish won’t know until it is necessary. We’re also planning on building a small hospital where there can be more than just ambulatory surgeries.
After almost three months into the sentence, or as Mills calls it, living in purgatory, things get interesting. Henry is dating Sophia, but we discover he’s legally bound to marry some high society chick. She is living with us while Henry can prove to her that they aren’t meant for each other. Technically, he broke up with Sophia. It’s painful to be around those two.
Sophia and Blaire are like sisters to Leyla, which makes me happy. She’s always avoided people, and within the first days of meeting them, they hit it off. The issue is that any crap my brothers pull comes back to fuck me.
She’s upset at the Assdridges, but especially at me.
We are just a bunch of idiots who screw women for pleasure.
My relationship with Leyla is beyond complicated.
Some days we barely speak to each other. Others we fight because of stupid things. Like when fucking Easton Rodin is flirting with her. It makes me angry when she pokes me about choosing a new woman before I get rid of her.
Nights are the worst because we can’t keep our distance from each other, and we end up having sex. Sometimes it’s angry, others casual, and the times when it’s intense and loving she closes up and refuses to discuss us.
“It’s over,” she insists.
Last night she told me she knows what she’s doing after this, and surprise, surprise. I’m not included in her fucking plans. I swear I have to insert myself in her daily life because if she gets her way, we wouldn’t have to see each other after feeding the animals in the morning.
It was my idea to give riding lessons to Arden, which means Leyla and I are riding the horses and Arden chooses who he rides with. I drive her to the general store since she’s in charge of grocery shopping. I go with her to visit the shelter and take her to Portland to pick up the supplies she orders for them.
Nothing I try is working, though. I have no one but myself to blame for this fucking mess. In theory, I have time to get her to forgive me, but my gut says she’s leaving sooner. My life gets even more complicated when Beacon brings me some of the information I requested. Whoever is working for him is good.
He has information on all the agencies she applied to. Most of them pretended to lose Leyla’s applications after Bryant, LLP rejected the documents stating that the applicant had lied about her marital status and mental state. Because of her mental instability, they don’t want to tell her she was rejected. They are afraid she might do something to the employees—since her father was a mass murderer.
Every muscle in my body tenses. The evidence my family’s firm provided are a counterfeited divorce certificate and her medical history. According to the documents, she’s been in and out of rehab since we met. The papers look legitimate, but they are all fake, except for the police report of the night when her parents died. I almost throw up when I see the pictures of the bodies.
My mother has known what happened to Ley, and she’s never told me. But she used it against her. This is beyond evil. Wave after wave of anger hits me with every word I read from the medical history that isn’t real. I never sent her to rehab.
“This is fucking sick,” I mumble, not sure if I’m talking about what happened to my Ley when she was six, or my vicious mother.
Probably both.
“Now I get it,” he mutters. I guess he’s talking about the time I told him never to bring up her parents. “That’s…horrible.”
“The police report is true, but the rest is bogus,” I press, in case he’s wondering about the medical history.
“We know. The guys researched everything,” he confirms.
“If they can create bogus documents to fuck with Leyla, what can they do to give a person a child?” I ask out loud, and Beacon arches an eyebrow. “I bet they do more than just win cases because they pay a few judges. What do you think?”
“Dude, this is your family,” he