Kings of California: Bargaining for King's Baby

If that meant spending less time with his wife and son than he would have liked, that’s the price he would pay. He was doing this for their future.

“Please let me stay,” Jeremy said and a single tear rolled down his cheek. “I’ll be good.”

“Jeremy,” he said, going down on one knee long enough to look his son in the eye. “I know you’d be good. But I’ve got work. I can’t play now anyway. You’ll have more fun with Mommy.”

Adam lifted his gaze to the woman standing behind his son. Monica didn’t look any happier than Jeremy, but rather than tears in her eyes, there was fire. Anger. An expression Adam had become more and more used to seeing.

Jeremy’s chin hit his chest and his narrow shoulders slumped in dejection. He rubbed the toe of his bright red tennis shoe in the dirt, sniffed loudly and ran one hand under his nose. “’Kay.”

As the boy turned and walked with slow, miserable steps toward the silver sedan parked in the driveway, Adam stood up to face his wife.

“That’s so typical of you, Adam,” she muttered, shooting a look over her shoulder at their son to make sure he was out of earshot.

“Let’s not do this right now, all right?” He checked his wristwatch again and Monica hissed in a breath.

“You never want to ‘do’ this, Adam. That’s the problem.”

“I don’t have time for it, all right?”

“Why don’t you schedule me in for a week from Tuesday, Adam? Will I get one minute? Or two?”

He blew out a breath, reached out one hand to her, but she skipped back to avoid his touch. Adam sighed. “You know as well as I do, I’ve got responsibilities.”

“Yes, you do.”

He was irritated, angry and just a little weary of this whole situation. Monica had less and less patience with what she saw as Adam’s “preoccupation” with the King ranch. And as she pulled further away from him, he did the same. The ranch was his family’s legacy. It took time. Dedication.

The car door closed behind Jeremy and he looked to see his son pull the seat belt across his chest and hook it securely.

Glancing back at his wife, Adam said, “Can we not do this now? I’ve got a meeting.”

“Right.” She shook her head, blond hair flying in a tight, short arc around her jawline. “Wouldn’t want you to miss a meeting just because of your family.”

“Damn it, Monica.”

“Damn you, Adam.” She turned and stalked to the car without another look at him. Just before she opened the car door, though, she allowed her gaze to lock with his. “Not that you’ll notice or anything, but I thought you should know—we’re not coming back. Jeremy and I are driving to my mother’s in San Francisco. I’ll let you know where to send our things once we’re settled.”

“Just a damn minute,” Adam said, starting for her.

But she hopped into the car, fired the engine and raced down the driveway before he could get to her. He watched dust and gravel fantail up behind the wheels of her car. The sun beat down on his head and shoulders and despite the heat, he felt cold. Right down to his bones.

The dust settled and still he stood there, watching after the car carrying his wife and son away from him. Then the alarm on his watch beeped and he idly reached to turn it off. He had to leave for the meeting. He’d give Monica a chance to cool off. Then they’d talk. Work this out.

He headed for his SUV.

First things first. He had just enough time to make that meeting.

Twenty minutes later, Jeremy and Monica were dead.

Adam came up out of the past with a jolt.

It had been years since he’d allowed himself to remember that day. But now, it had all rushed back at him because of the child, still laughing, in the corral.