Avenging Christa: Irresistibly Mine Duet Book 2

  Avenging Christa

  Irresistibly Mine Duet Book 2

  Tracie Delaney

  M. A. Comley

  Contents

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  Books by Tracie Delaney

  1. Dayton

  2. Christa

  3. Dayton

  4. Christa

  5. Dayton

  6. Christa

  7. Dayton

  8. Christa

  9. Dayton

  10. Christa

  11. Dayton

  12. Christa

  13. Dayton

  14. Dayton

  15. Christa

  16. Dayton

  17. Christa

  18. Dayton

  19. Christa

  20. Dayton

  21. Christa

  22. Dayton

  23. Christa

  24. Christa

  25. Christa

  26. Dayton

  27. Christa

  28. Dayton

  29. Dayton

  30. Christa

  Author Notes

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  Books by Tracie Delaney

  Acknowledgments

  About Tracie Delaney

  About M.A. Comley

  Copyright © 2019 Tracie Delaney

  Copyright © 2019 M.A. Comley

  Edited by Emmy Ellis at Studioenp

  Edited by Delphine Noble-Fox

  Proofreading by Love2ReadRomance

  Cover art by Tiffany @TEBlack Designs

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted, in uniform or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without prior written permission of the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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  Books by Tracie Delaney

  The Winning Ace Series

  Cash - A Winning Ace Short Story

  Winning Ace

  Losing Game

  Grand Slam

  Winning Ace Boxset

  Mismatch

  Break Point - A Winning Ace Novella

  Stand-alone

  My Gift To You

  The Brook Brothers Series

  The Blame Game

  Against All Odds

  His To Protect

  Web of Lies

  Irresistibly Mine Series

  Tempting Christa

  Avenging Christa

  1

  Dayton

  “I love you, Dayton. But I love Max more. I’m sorry.”

  Christa’s words tore through me. As swiftly as wet fingers snuffing out a candle, my world imploded. She didn’t mean it, couldn’t mean it. After everything we’d been through, all we’d overcome, the family we’d built…

  Atwood could go fuck himself. I would not allow that psychopath to ruin the best thing that had ever happened to me. Christa, Max, and me, we were a team—and God help anyone who tried to tear us apart.

  I watched the love of my life, my heart, my soul, my… my everything, clutching her son, her arms wrapped tightly around him. She kissed the top of his head, her eyes on me, waiting for my reaction. No, not waiting.

  Fearing.

  Oh God, no. I was as bad as him. This was all my fault. My inability to rein it in, to show some restraint, had brought us to this point. And now I’d have to live with the consequences.

  “Angel, please listen to me. I hear what you’re saying, but I won’t let you fight this alone. I’ll do whatever it takes. Please don’t give up on me. On us. I will never allow that fu—Atwood to take Max.”

  Her watery gaze met mine. “It’s in the hands of the courts now. You can’t stop him. No one can.”

  “Momma, down,” Max demanded, wriggling in Christa’s arms, thankfully, completely oblivious to the war about to be waged with him right in the middle of it.

  Christa set him down on the floor, and he waddled off to go play with his toys. Christ, the innocence… There were no limits, no lengths I wouldn’t go to, when it came to protecting him and Christa.

  In desperation, I clutched her upper arms. “We can stop him, providing we stick together. If you let him push us apart, then that’ll weaken your chances. Trust me, please. I will fix this.”

  “How?” she asked, her voice hoarse, raw, broken. “How will you fix it?”

  I had no freaking clue—yet—but problem-solving was in my blood, a skill I used every day in my work life. This wouldn’t be any different. In fact, I’d relish the chance to ruin that bastard.

  “Do you trust me?” I asked, purposely ignoring her question.

  “Yes.”

  Her instantaneous response sparked a flicker of hope that maybe she hadn’t given up on me just yet.

  I caressed her face, memorizing every inch in case there was ever a time when I needed to recall how her skin felt beneath my fingers. I brushed my lips tenderly over hers, the spark of hope turning into a flame when she kissed me back.

  “I won’t let you down,” I whispered. “Give me a chance to prove I’m worthy of your trust.”

  Her bottom lip wobbled. “I’m scared, Dayton. I can’t lose my baby, especially not to him.”

  “Max is going nowhere,” I reiterated. “We’ll play Atwood’s games, go along with his petition, but I want you to know that I’ll be working in the background to make this right.” I took a breath. She wasn’t going to like what I had to say. “Prepare yourself, angel, because the judge will likely award visitation rights automatically while the rest of the custody hearing takes place.”

  She paled and shoved a trembling hand through her hair. “You’re right. Of course you’re right. Why wouldn’t they give him access? In the eyes of the law, he’s an innocent man.” Tears spilled down her cheeks. “I can’t do this.”

  My heart squeezed with agony while my spine stiffened with rage. That bastard would suffer, not only for what he had done to Christa in the past, but also for what he was trying to do to her now. My nostrils flared, my hands subconsciously curled into fists. I caught Christa’s wide-eyed stare and quickly unfurled them, stuffing them into my pockets. The last thing she needed was to be reminded of what lurked beneath the surface, of how much anger I held within me, of my ability to unleash it on anyone who hurt the people I loved the most. Violence was her trigger, her red flag, the very thing that hauled her back to what he’d done, the depravity of his revenge. I inhaled, releasing the breath slowly, calming my inner demons. Christa didn’t need my fury. She needed my support.

  I might not have figured out how I could drive Atwood from our l
ives for good, but I knew how to be patient when the situation called for it. I was well versed in being dogged, determined, single-minded. Just ask my father.

  I wrapped my arms around her and kissed the top of her head. “We’ll handle him together. I’m with you every step of the way. You’re not alone in this.”

  * * *

  “That’s not good enough.”

  Eric, my Head of Legal, and one of the most ferocious commercial counsels in the country, sighed heavily down the phone. “Dayton, be reasonable. Family law isn’t my thing. I need to make some calls. What difference is twenty-four hours going to make?”

  To Christa’s sanity? A whole fucking lot.

  “You’ve got twelve, Eric. Make them count.”

  I hung up. Wearily, I swept a hand over my face. The atmosphere in the car on the drive back to Manhattan had been tighter than an archer’s bow with Christa retreating inside herself, nibbling on her fingernails and staring out the window, causing a huge knot of anxiety to grow in my stomach. One that was still there, gnawing away at me.

  I wandered back into the living room, ordered some food, and poured us each a glass of wine while I waited for her to appear. She did, ten minutes later, her face bruised with exhaustion, her shoulders drooped, her skin pale. I beckoned to her, and she sat beside me then rested her head on my shoulder.

  “Max okay?”

  Her head bobbed. “Out like a light.”

  “I’ve ordered Chinese food.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “Neither am I, but try to eat something, for me.”

  She straightened and picked up her drink, taking a larger than normal swig. “I needed that.”

  I tucked her hair behind her ear. “I called my Head of Legal. He’s going to source a couple of names of excellent family lawyers. I’m going to make an appointment for Monday.”

  She stared into space, her fingertip absentmindedly circling the rim of her glass. “How did it come to this?” She shook her head, meeting my worried gaze. “I’m so sorry, Dayton. I didn’t mean to bring all this trouble to your door.”

  “Hey now.” I removed the glass from her hand and set it on the table, then nestled her into my side once more. “You, me, and Max. We’re a family. You’ve both brought such joy to my life, Christa. This is merely a bump in the road.” And one I’m going to obliterate.

  She snorted. “Understatement of the century.”

  I grinned. “What can I say? I’m a winner.”

  She laughed, the first time in what felt like days, but all too soon, her face fell. “You don’t know what he’s like. He doesn’t care about Max. He only cares about hurting me. He won’t stop until I’ve paid the debt he thinks I owe him.” Her voice broke, and she wrung her hands. “He wants retribution, and he knows that choosing to go after Max will hurt me the most.”

  “He won’t get custody of Max.”

  She shook her head forcefully. “He could, Dayton.” She grabbed a cushion and hugged it to her belly, then tossed it to one side, gripping her hair instead. “God, he might. I have to face facts, because if I don’t prepare myself and the worst happens…” She scrubbed her face, then let her hands flop into her lap. “I know you’re trying to shield me, but it’s honesty that will make me strong, not well-meant half-truths. Sutton could win custody of Max. At the very least, shared custody.”

  A burst of anger erupted within me. “Over my dead body.”

  I launched to my feet. Christa silently watched as I prowled around the room like a caged animal, my hands clenched into fists. What I wouldn’t give to punch Atwood’s face, beating him until he begged me for mercy, all the while knowing that by acting out on the fantasy, I could be the reason Christa lost Max. No, if I was to win the war against Atwood, I’d need to be cunning, and have patience, not rage.

  After a few seconds of watching me stomp around, Christa shot to her feet. She stood in front of me, hands planted on her hips. “Dayton, calm the hell down. I know you’re trying to protect me, to protect Max, but lying to me, and to yourself, about what we’re facing won’t do either of us any good.” She pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes for a brief second. “Don’t treat me like a child. Treat me like your equal. Don’t you see? Our power is in our love for each other, and for Max. It’s what will drive us forward, keep us going when shit gets rough. Because it will, and it’s going to be awful, just awful. Only by sticking together, by being completely honest with each other will we get through this.”

  As I gazed at her, my chest burst with pride. She was in the middle of a nightmare, terrified of losing her son, and her own sanity in the process, and yet still she responded with dignity, with reasonable, rational thought. Once she’d recovered from the initial shock of Atwood’s release, she’d grown a spine of steel.

  “You really are an amazing woman.”

  She gave me a faint smile, then tucked herself into my arms. “Max gives me strength, but it’s your faith and belief in me, your support and your love, that will ultimately give me the power to beat him.” She tilted her head back, a determined glint in her eyes. “And I will.”

  2

  Christa

  My heels clicked on the marble floor, the sound echoing down the hallway. I leaned forward, walking more on the balls of my feet to minimize the noise. Nerves filled my stomach, and my palms felt unpleasantly clammy. Francesca Hale, one of the most sought-after family lawyers on the east coast, had agreed to take my case. Mine. Talk about surreal. I had Dayton to thank, though. If it had been me on my own, I’d have had no chance of securing her services.

  We took a seat outside Francesca’s office. Pressing my knees together, I rested my hands in my lap, tapping my fingers on the top of my thighs. My priority was preventing Sutton from gaining any sort of permanent custody to Max. I’d already acknowledged that he’d be given temporary access. I didn’t need a lawyer to tell me we’d lose that concession. From a legal standpoint, the courts would see Sutton as an upstanding member of the Seattle community, a rich, successful businessman who exuded charm and sophistication.

  I knew different. I’d seen what the monster behind the mask was capable of. Every time I allowed my mind to wander, to think about handing over Max to him, panic simmered to the surface. No, I couldn’t go there.

  One baby step at a time. That was how I’d chosen to deal with this. Bite-size chunks.

  Dayton squeezed my hand. I offered up a wavering smile, which was all I could manage. Without him and his unfailing support, not to mention his deep pockets, I’d have had no chance of beating Sutton. Without Dayton in my corner, the probability of losing my son would be much greater.

  “You can go in now.”

  I acknowledged Francesca’s assistant with a succinct nod and rose from my chair. I slipped my hand inside Dayton’s, straightened my spine, and took a deep breath.

  That’s it, Christa. Professional and in control on the outside.

  And a complete mess on the inside.

  Francesca Hale wasn’t at all like I expected. I’d seen her photograph on her website, but she was much younger in person, and tall—only an inch or two shorter than Dayton—with long, straight blonde hair and the kind of eyes that saw everything. Keen, almost hawk-like. I immediately took to her.

  She stood as we entered, then rounded her desk to greet us. “Mr. Somers, Ms. Adams, lovely to meet you.” We shook hands, and she gestured to the two chairs opposite her desk. “Please, have a seat.”

  “Thank you for seeing us at such short notice,” Dayton said as I tucked my skirt beneath me and sat.

  Francesca picked up her pen and hovered the tip over a yellow legal pad. “Eric gave me some scant details, but why don’t you start from the beginning.”

  Dayton looked over at me, and I began talking. Once I started, I couldn’t stop, apart from the odd time to take a sip of water to quench my parched throat. Having laid out the details as objectively as I could, I sucked in a calming breath while ignoring the chill
creeping over my skin and continued.

  “Sutton wants to make me pay. He blames me for putting him in jail, and now he’s back to demand his pound of flesh. He isn’t doing this because he wants Max. He only wants to hurt me, to make me suffer, and he knows the best way to do that is through my son.”

  I wiped my sweaty palms on my skirt and swallowed. Dayton touched my elbow.

  “Are you okay?”

  I nodded, biting my lip.

  Francesca set her pen down. Her neat handwriting had filled several sheets of paper. I idly wondered why she didn’t use a tablet or a laptop. My hand would ache if I wrote that many pages.

  She linked her fingers and met my gaze. “Thank you for being so honest and articulate. You’ve made my job a lot easier. You’d be surprised the number of clients who leave out bits and pieces where they think the information might show them in a bad light.” She turned her attention to Dayton then back to me. “Okay, so here’s what we’re going to do. Absolutely nothing.”

  My eyes widened, and my lips parted. “Nothing?”

  She nodded. “Correct. Let him make the first move. He has to file a motion with the court first before we can counter, so let him get on with that. In the meantime, here’s my advice. We hire a private detective to find out everything we can about this guy. And I mean everything. We dig hard and deep into his background, his past, from childhood to now. No one is off the table. Ex-girlfriends, ex-employees, disgruntled family members. Any one of them might have information to share that will help your case if and when he does file for custody. We use the time we have now to our advantage, because once the courts get going, we’re in the system and we’ll have to run to their timescales.” Her pen rolled to the side, and she picked it up, then fixed her attention directly on Dayton. “I hope you’re heavily invested in winning, Mr. Somers, because this is going to get expensive real fast. Good private investigators can run into the tens of thousands.”