Page 24 of Deadly Lust

If Grant was his father, he would want to be part of our lives. I wasn’t naïve enough to believe this would change things entirely between Grant and me. We wouldn’t go rushing off into the sunset as a family. No. Grant despised me too much for that. I had lied to him. I had run away from him. I had broken his heart.

But maybe, just maybe, this new beginning could help us heal a bit.

What was my plan? Show up at Tiffany’s mother’s house and demand to get my son? Show some DNA test done by Roman’s friend? Kidnap my boy back?

The rational Mia knew that I should take a deep breath, call Grant, contact the police, and file a case.

But Mia had been missing for six months.

Ksenya was anything but rational.

I could call Grant, but he would realize I was high—a conversation I did not want to have with him.

I could call an Uber or call Autumn to take me up there. Neither of those options sounded appealing. Especially since I had no idea what Julián’s grandmother would say when I confronted her. That was likely to end with her calling the cops and having me, the crazy woman trying to take her grandson away, put in jail.

There was only one other option.

I texted Mitch.

Mia: Can you take me somewhere?

Only a few seconds passed before I saw the text bubble.

Mitch: On my way.

I finished my tea and went outside to wait. Twenty minutes later, Mitch showed up, a satisfied grin on his face. I hopped in the truck and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“Thanks for coming.”

“I was surprised to hear from you so soon. Where to?”

“Temecula.”

“Why?”

I considered telling him but paused. It wasn’t fair to tell him before Grant. I wasn’t adding blabbing the news to everyone else before him to my long, long list of indiscretions.

“I need to visit Tiffany’s grandmother. Get some more information to free Joaquín.”

He glared at me. It was never a good idea to lie to a SEAL. They could always tell. “Why isn’t Grant taking you?”

This time, I’d tell the truth. “Because I don’t have a clue where he is. He left this morning and hasn’t answered my texts. Besides, he seems to think Joaquín is guilty, which is why you’re here, big guy.”

“Fine. But I’m going in with you.”

“Okay.”

We drove up to Temecula in comfortable silence. I appreciated Mitch helping me, even if it was just because he wanted me. Maybe I’d misjudged him. He might be a misogynistic jerk, but he was loyal and protective.

We turned onto the street—and I let out a gasp when I saw a truck parked in front of the grandmother’s house.

Grant’s truck.

Oh, fuck.

“What’s Grant doing here? I thought you said you didn’t know where he was?” Mitch asked, slowing.

“I didn’t.” I turned to Mitch. “Please, just drop me off. He can’t see us together. He will freak.”