Page 86 of Code Violation

Holding my chin high, I pin Kane in my gaze. “Yes. I want him to leave.”

Mason edges closer, a broad smile on his face that promises a whole world of trouble if Kane doesn’t exit the bar in the next few seconds.

Both men are locked in a standoff before Kane diverts his attention back to me.

“We need to talk, Vesper. And soon,” he bites out before he steps around Mason and heads for the door. He yanks it open, and it crashes against the jamb, making me jolt.

Closing my eyes, I exhale a long breath, trying to re-center myself.

“I thought you’d already be back home. Thank you for coming to check on me.”

Mason steps around the bar and picks up my leaflet, wiping it down with a cloth before he drops it back into my purse and hands it to me.

“I’m old enough to recognize a predator when I see one. After I left here, I nursed a soda next door for a couple of hours. I didn’t get a good feeling about leaving you alone, and clearly, my instincts were right.”

Since I don’t have the words to express my gratitude, I reach inside my bag for my phone.

“If you’re calling for a taxi, I already have it covered. There should be an Uber outside in the next few minutes.”

“I was actually going to check the bus times.”

Mason shakes his head, moving across to the light switch on the far side of the room. He kills the overhead lights and heads toward the door, holding it open for me to leave.

“If you think I’m letting you take public transport with that weirdo still lurking, you must be crazy. Plus …” He takes my keys from me when we both step outside, locking up and checking the door. “Staying on the right side of my captain has never been more important to me these days, and I’m a hundred percent certain that you and the baby are his whole fucking world.”

28

. . .

Silas

Kane

Let me know when you’re next around. We need to talk.

Kane’s text arrives just as Vesper and I step into the room where we’ll meet our baby for the first time.

I haven’t heard from him in weeks, although that’s not altogether surprising. He only ever contacts me when he needs something, and my best guess is, he’s after cash this time too.

Shoving that asshole to the back of my mind, I take a seat next to Vesper as she climbs onto the sonographer’s bed and adjusts her clothing, getting ready for the scan.

“Today would make you exactly eight weeks based on the date of your last period, right?” the sonographer asks.

Because I’m way too fucking excited, I chip in before my girl gets a chance to answer, “That’s correct, a whole eight weeks today.”

Vesper turns to look at me while the sonographer begins prepping the ultrasound probe with jelly. “I think you keep better track of my gestational period than I do.”

Taking her right hand, I delight in the way her palm fits so effortlessly into mine. “I downloaded an app. Each morning, it sends me an update. It also tells me how big our baby is.”

Her eyes soften, pupils dilating. “Could you be any more perfect?”

I won’t lie; Vesper’s last sentence is food for a man’s ego.

“Little one is around the size of a raspberry right now.”

She looks down at our joined hands. “Can I be really honest with you?”

Like that even needs to be a question. “Always.”