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Sterling Shore: Tagged And Ashed Part 19

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Chapter Eleven.

The Bold Truth Tag I can't stop smiling. She still wants me.

Just as I'm about to leave the office, a detective from Ash's case steps off the elevator.

"Detective Marks, I wasn't expecting you," I murmur in bemus.e.m.e.nt. "Did you catch the guy?"

"Not exactly. He did break into Ms. Branderwood's storage facility, and he stole or trashed everything she had. Is she still staying at your place?"



f.u.c.k.

"Yeah. I'm not letting her out of my sight."

"Here's the thing. The target is no longer just Ms. Branderwood. We found these," he says while handing me several photos locked inside evidence bags.

There are pictures of Trip and Ash taken from afar from her old place. Trip's eyes have been blacked out, his mouth has been burrowed through, and there are crossed-out marks over his body in every picture.

"We also found this," he uneasily releases while handing me a baby doll inside an evidence bag. The eyes have been gouged, the mouth has been ripped out, and the head is disconnected. The sickening part, he's wearing a s.h.i.+rt with a picture of Trip.

"f.u.c.king s.h.i.+t," I release as my hands tremble.

"I know. This guy is beyond f.u.c.ked up. In cases like these, I have to notify both parents. Ms. Branderwood said I could share anything with you, so I'm hoping you'll do the same for me."

"Yeah, of course. What do you need?"

"Well, she's sort of silent on the matter of the child's father. It's possible this guy might be the one doing all this, considering the new target. I went to rundown the name of the father, but I couldn't find a man in this area by that name. I'm hoping you can help me locate him. If he's not the suspect, he at least needs to know someone is targeting his kid."

He knows his name.

"I don't even know the dad's name, but I'm sure I can help if you give it to me. Her best friend is on my speed dial. I'm sure he can help."

My stomach flip-flops. I've wanted to know the name of this b.a.s.t.a.r.d for months now.

The detective smiles appreciatively.

"Great, it's Shannon Pierce."

I tilt my head curiously, and then I shake it.

"Shannon Pierce isn't a guy. That's one of her friends - a girl friend. What's going on?"

He frowns, and then he makes a note of what I've said.

"What's going on is Ms. Branderwood is hiding something. Whatever it is, it could end up getting her hurt if the father is indeed the suspect. Care if I come over tonight?"

"Yeah, sure," I mutter, now losing the euphoric cloud I was on.

Tag My moment of excitement has been soured now. I was ready to get home to Ash, finish what we started, but now I just want answers.

Why in the h.e.l.l would she lie to the cops about the father of her child? I realize she's protecting the b.a.s.t.a.r.d, but that's crossing a line.

The detective follows me down the drive, and Ash is smiling with Trip in her arms when she opens the door to see me. Her moment of happiness ends when her eyes fall on the detective following close on my heels as we both near the door.

"Hey," she says softly as my arm wraps around her waist. "What's going on? Did something happen?"

As.h.i.+ara "I can't believe this monster is now after Trip! Who in the f.u.c.k is this obsessed with me?" I whimper, and Tag holds me to his body as I restrain my tears, happy they're not cascading down my cheeks.

Trip is lying in his pin, sleeping peacefully, unaware of the madman out there after us both.

"Ms. Branderwood, about the person you told us was your child's father, we know that's your friend-your female friend."

I swallow hard, and Tag's grip tightens on me.

Please not in front of him.

"I'm sorry. At the time, I just panicked. I didn't want him involved."

"Is he a violent person?" the detective asks.

"No, of course not. He's a great guy."

"A great guy?" Tag scoffs. "A great guy would be here for his son. A great guy would be here for you."

Exactly. He's a great guy, dumba.s.s.

The detective clears his throat a little when he senses Tag's anger on the matter, and then he turns back to me.

"It's possible he could be the suspect. We need to find him. At the very least, he should know what's going on."

"He's not your suspect," I quickly object. "And he's perfectly aware of the situation."

"And he's still not here?" Tag snarks. "Yeah. Great guy."

I roll my eyes, and then I see the detective not impressed or pleased with my answer.

"I need to speak with him, Ms. Branderwood. I'm sorry, but you're going to have to give me his true ident.i.ty."

"If this is about the guy who attacked me, he was short. I told you that. He's very short. Trip's dad is incredibly tall."

"Ms. Branderwood, please don't make me ask you again," the detective mumbles, exasperated.

"I can't. I can't right now. It's not him, and I promise he's aware of the situation surrounding his son."

He tightens his lips, and then he tilts his head as he stares at Tag. I get sick as his mind wraps around the thing Tag hasn't figured out. He purses his lips, and then he walks over to stare down at my son.

"He doesn't look much like you, Ms. Branderwood. I see a striking resemblance to someone else I've spoken to though."

Tag whips his head around, and then he rushes over to stare at Trip alongside the detective. I almost feel dizzy. I'm so sick right now. This isn't how I wanted him to find out.

"Who?" Tag demands.

The detective shakes his head and returns to me.

"Is there any reason for you to fear his father at all?"

"Absolutely not, and I think you know that, Detective," I grumble while my hands shake.

"Then why not tell him?"

"Because... because he didn't want to be a dad."

"Who the h.e.l.l is it?" Tag almost blares, making Trip whimper.

He quickly turns around and scoops him up to soothe him, making Trip's sleepy eyes close again.

"It looks like things have changed, Ms. Branderwood," the detective sighs, and Tag's eyes widen in disbelief.

He looks stunned, and tears teeter on the edge of his lids as he stares at me with judgmental, icy blues.

"He's mine? This whole f.u.c.king time you've been lying to me?" he hoa.r.s.ely releases.

Tag How could she?

She's sitting there, fighting back her tears as she lowers her shameful eyes to the floor. This whole time I've been right here, and yet she didn't tell me. I was on the verge of telling her I love her, and yet she kept my son a secret.

"Why?" I prompt.

"You know why, Tag. Don't act like being a father was on your to-do list," she whimpers, her eyes still not meeting mine.

"Not on my to-do list?" I almost whisper in disbelief as I cradle my son to my chest. "Ash, do you think that little of me?"

Her eyes finally look up, the tears dripping in streaks as she shakes her head.

"No, I think that much of you. You would have stopped everything. You would have given me money, possibly even tried to be with me for the sake of the child you helped create. I didn't want that. I didn't want to try to push you away because I knew I couldn't. I couldn't let you feel guilty for something you didn't mean to do. I'm in... I'm sorry, but I couldn't take it."

"You didn't have that right," I scold, my own tears threatening to drip. "I missed the entire pregnancy. I missed the sonograms, the doctor visits, the d.a.m.n birth of my son. I missed the first three weeks of his life, and I would have missed all of it if it had been up to you. How could you do that to me?"

She looks away, and then she stares at her hands as she almost whispers, "Either you hated me because you knew, or you hated me because you didn't. I thought I was helping you. I'm sorry."

I can't even look at her right now. I can't believe she could do this to me.

"When you find this guy, tell me he's going to jail for a while," I growl to the forgotten detective.

"We should be able to get him for attempted murder, thanks to the gunshot he delivered against Ms. Branderwood. We'll be a.s.signing a protective unit to you. Where will your son be staying?"

My son.

"We'll go to Melanie's," Ash says while fighting off more tears.

"Not a chance," I snap. "I think you've kept him from me long enough. You can go if you want, but he's staying here."

Her thick tears fall harder as she looks up at me with those stormy eyes stinging with pain.

"I can't leave my son, Tag."

"Then you know how I feel. You can keep your room. He's not going anywhere. In fact, there's a lot of s.h.i.+t that will change. Starting with where he sleeps. You had four weeks, I get four weeks. I'll get his crib tonight."

The detective stands, and his lips tighten as he makes his way past the sobbing girl and toward me.

"Can we talk outside, Mr. Masters?"

I nod, my jaw clenching as I stare at the girl I once thought had betrayed me in a completely different way.

I follow him out the door while still holding Trip, and he sighs as he turns to face me.

"I realize this is a really big bomb to have dropped on you. While I don't agree with what Ms. Branderwood did, I understand what she thought she was doing. It's not my place to offer advice, but she's going through h.e.l.l right now. She's locked up, her child is in danger, and she's scared out of her mind. If you take out all of your anger on her, she's just going to have one more thing to worry about."

"If she didn't want me angry, she should have told me he was my son the day she found out she was pregnant," I almost hiss.

His lips tighten again, and then he turns to walk toward his car.

"I'll be in touch, Mr. Masters."

"I'll be here."

With my son. My son.

As.h.i.+ara I've never spent a night away from Trip, and even though I'm just a little bit away, it's torture. I've spent the entire night crying and listening to the monitor that was once in Tag's room.

Hearing his soothing voice calming our crying child stabs me, especially since I know he truly does hate me. This entire thing is f.u.c.ked up. He can't force me to let him keep Trip in his room. He can't force me to stay here either. I can go to Melanie's, and I can live there without him having any rights. It'll take him forever to even get the paternity test he would need to prove Trip's his child.

So why am I staying?

Because I owe him that much.

Breathing in heavily, I go to sit in the kitchen and stare out the window at the world that has forsaken me. This morning, I thought of all the ways we could be together. Tonight, I'm thinking of all the reasons we never will me.

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