Page 59 of Double the Redemption

There was a storm in her eyes, and he hated seeing it. He wanted to tell her it was over, that all this would be behind her and they’d never touch either of them again, but she wouldn’t believe him. Not fully.

So, he switched the topic. “What about your mother? What was she like?”

“I don’t really remember her. She died when my sister and I were young. My father said she was like me, with the same kind of memory and smarts. I’m still not sure how they ended up together, since, from what I understand, they were complete opposites. She was Ivy League, and he was an other-side-of-the-tracks kind of guy.

“Maybe at one point it was a love story, but he got greedy when he realized just what she could do for him.

“I think he was always like that. Good at hiding his true self.” Her expression darkened. “He certainly managed it well enough.”

“And your sister?”

She sighed. “All I know is that my father got her wrapped up in Diego’s operation, but I don’t know the details beyond that. We were never allowed to communicate, and she didn’t even try. My father made a point of telling me how well she was doing without me, saying she had talents beyond her brain. I don’t know what that means, and I don’t want to know.”

He had a pretty good idea, and it soured his gut. The cartel had specific uses for women, and if her father sold her to them, as he had with Naomi, it wasn’t for anything good. And even if it wasn’t the worst possible answer, she’d be loyal to them in a way Naomi wasn’t.

Not to mention, if they thought it was possible her sister could carry these children like an incubator … a shiver of dread ran down his spine.

Yeah, he didn’t even want to consider it.

“Done!” Asher declared.

“Good job, buddy,” Ink praised.

“Pway?”

“You can go play with your toys, yes. Ink can play with you soon, once he’s done eating.” Asher nodded, clambered off his chair, and headed back to the living room. “He’ll be busy for half an hour.”

Ink nodded. “He’s very self-sufficient.”

Something flashed across her face—regret, maybe?—before she nodded. “He’s advancing faster now that he’s not stuck in one room or around other people who want him to keep moving forward. Scarlett has been great at getting him things to do and read with me from the library. We’ll be working on his math and writing next.”

Ink blinked at her. “He’s two.”

Her lips quirked. “By the time I was his age, I was doing both those things. He’s already trying to copy me, and he’s getting pretty good at it. We also play memory games to see if he can remember where things were after we move them around. Easy stuff for now, but enough for me to see what I have to look forward to in the future.”

Ink looked at her in awe. “Shit. I knew you were a genius, but I guess I never really put the pieces together in my head about what that might mean. He’ll be running laps around the rest of us soon enough.” He was oddly proud of that. “And he seems to like drawing and coloring. Maybe he’ll like doing that as well as the math parts?”

“He does like to color a lot. I’m good with that too. I’m not very artistic, so if that’s what he prefers to do, we’ll look into it. Some people with higher IQs are more adept at instruments and the arts than in logical careers. He’s too young, really, to decide on that now unless he really shows an affinity for something.”

“D-did you always want to work with numbers?” He hoped the question didn’t upset her.

She sighed. “I went through phases growing up. I was smart, taking advanced classes in everything, but I just wanted to fit in, be like the other girls. Get the boys’ attention. I was pretty enough, and I worked hard to learn how to do my makeup just right and got a job to get some nice clothes, but the guys were intimidated by me. I would talk faster, remember things they did, and they really didn’t like that I could remember where something was. If they were trying to hide something, they thought I would snitch. It made high school hard.”

“Teenage boys are pricks. We’re only focused on impressing our friends and scoring as much as possible.”

“Yeah, I don’t think they grow out of it either.” Her stare was bland, but the corner of her lip twitched as she tried to hide her smile.

Ink grinned at her. “Probably, but I’d like to think we’ve matured a bit about it and don’t do the stupid stunts we used to. And we’re better at recognizing the smart girls are the hottest ones.”

She rolled her eyes. “You can’t help yourself.” She pushed away from the table, grabbing her empty plate.

“Afraid not.” He got to his feet, took his plate, and followed her. “I got this.” He eased the dishcloth from her hand and gently hip-checked her when she shook her head and tried to take it back. “You made dinner, I clean up. That’s how things work.”

“It’s only a couple dishes and one pan, Ink. I’m not going to strain myself.”

“Don’t care. You cook, I clean. We should make a list of rules for each other. You’ll remember each one, but I’ll memorize them. This can be the first one. I think the second should be that we have pizza at least once a week. I have an addiction to feed.”

He might be pushing this, but damn it, he didn’t want to stop. It was the first night she hadn’t shoved him out and was opening up. He didn’t know what the girls had said to her, but he’d buy them all flowers or something if it had helped her decide to finally give him a shot.