Fate (Steel Brothers Saga #13) - Helen Hardt Page 0,76

girl, but this one was a boy, I felt certain. What would we name him? I had no idea. I didn’t want to name him after my father. Yeah, he’d come through for me this time, but all those years he tormented my mother… I’d never forget that.

Daphne could name him. She’d pick the perfect name.

He’d be big and strong and wonderful, and I’d teach him to work the ranch as my father had taught me. I’d—

I jerked when sirens shrieked. A police car whizzed past me and stopped in front of Wendy’s condo. An ambulance followed.

An ambulance? That was a surprise. My father told me it would be the police.

An officer exited the car along with a man in plain clothes. The psychologist, of course. I started my engine and drove forward until I had a good view of Wendy’s door.

The officer knocked. Even in my truck, the loud pounding resonated in my ears.

The door opened.

Wendy.

Christ, she was freaking naked! Was she always naked at home? She seemed to be every time I went to see her.

Words were exchanged, but they were only a jumble to me. Wendy closed the door, and a few minutes later, the officer and the psychologist entered the home.

I waited. A couple guys in white got out of the ambulance and brought a stretcher to the front door. God, they were going to strap her down. My father had gone all out.

She wouldn’t go quietly.

Or would she?

Would they subdue her with a sedative? Could they?

More moments passed. My heart raced. Please, let this work. Please get her out of my life.

Finally, the door opened. The officer led Wendy out in handcuffs, the psychologist at her side. She was eerily quiet…until she saw the guys in white waiting for her.

“Fuck no!” she shouted. “You aren’t putting me on that thing!”

The men went to work strapping her down anyway, despite her protests. I made out most of her words because she was screaming.

“What the hell? I have rights, you know! I have money! I’ll sue the hell out of all of you! I want a lawyer! I have a right to a—”

My truck. Her gaze settled on my truck.

“You!” she yelled. “You’re behind this! I’ll never forgive you, Bradford Steel. I’ll fucking see you in hell!”

My blood chilled.

Maybe I shouldn’t have come, but I had to see this event for myself. Had to make sure she was truly gone.

Wendy was brilliant, yes.

But she was no match for my father.

Or for me.

From now on, I’d make sure of it.

Chapter Fifty-Five

Daphne

Telling my parents that I was pregnant, moving in with the father of my baby, and getting married wasn’t going to be easy. I went over and over in my mind how to tell them during the half-hour drive to my home. I’d called earlier to tell my mother I was coming and bringing a friend.

They were ecstatic that I had a friend.

Of course, they didn’t know the friend was actually a lover who had gotten me pregnant.

I cleared my throat. “This is it,” I said to Brad.

He pulled up next to my parents’ modest suburban home and parked on the street. Then he turned to me. “Doing okay?”

Not even slightly. “Yeah,” I said.

“Do you want me to wait out here for a few minutes?”

“No. I need you to be with me.”

“Absolutely,” he said. “Whatever you need.”

We left the car and walked up to the door. Oddly, I felt like I should knock or ring the doorbell even though this was my home. Why did I feel like such a stranger here?

Easy. I was a stranger here. I was a completely different person from who I was when I left this house a month ago.

I reached toward the doorknob when the door opened on its own.

My mother stood in the entryway. “Daphne, honey. Welcome home.” Then her eyes turned to circles.

I cleared my throat again. “Mom, this is Brad Steel. He’s…my boyfriend.”

“Oh, my.” She held out her hand to Brad. “It’s very nice to meet you. I’m Lucy Wade.”

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Wade.”

“Lucy, please. Come right on in.”

I entered and Brad followed me. My father sat in his recliner, reading a newspaper.

My mother cleared her throat. “Jonathan, Daphne’s home, and she’s brought her”—another throat clear—“boyfriend.”

The paper dropped, and my father nearly stumbled getting out of the recliner before he put the footrest down. “Boyfriend?”

“Daddy,” I said, “this is Brad Steel.”

“Good to meet you, sir,” Brad said.

“Brad Steel. Not the Steel ranch heir?”

Brad nodded. “One and the same.”

“Oh.