: Chapter 2

Lia

The steering wheel of the hired car twisted under my sweating palms, and I navigated around a loch, the choppy water grey and hostile. Driving was a new thing for me—I’d only passed my test six months ago, and not in the UK.

They drove on the other side of the road here. The car’s controls were on the wrong side, too.

“It’s fine, all fine,” I mumbled to myself.

For the fiftieth time, I glanced at the instructions Rory had sent me. When I’d met Max, it had been in Inverness, where my father had been working. I’d never come to his home out here in the mountains. I’d had no clue where he lived.

A fresh burst of fear mixed with my shaky determination.

I was in the right. Max couldn’t get away with this any longer.

The road took me through stone gateposts and over a bridge. A castle loomed on the banks of the water, but I only had my mind on my goal.

Find Max. Demand answers.

Force him to acknowledge all he’d ignored.

The directions took me left into a forest. Rory had given me the destination of a classic car repair garage. Max’s workplace, I presumed. Despite the very little he and I had told each other about ourselves, I’d guessed he was into cars from the ever-present scent of oil on his clothes. Knowing it now had me squirrelling the fact away, racking it up with my other scant knowledge.

Everything our daughter had a right to know as she grew.

Up ahead, a building came into sight. Fitzroy Classics, the sign over the workshop claimed.

Showtime.

It was almost two years since I’d last seen Max—June, two summers ago. So much had passed since then. My pregnancy, my body’s extreme reaction which sent me into a hospital bed for months, my reliance on relatives for help in all things, including in telling the father of my baby about our impending parenthood.

I wished beyond belief that it could’ve been different. That I’d been able to make the trip, rather than entrusting the act on someone I barely knew. Perhaps Max would’ve reacted different. Not rejected the perfect person we’d made.

He didn’t deserve Evie. But she deserved the truth.

For her, I’d do anything, including getting on a plane and travelling a long way for this confrontation.

Nausea churned my stomach, and I slowed the car, bringing it to a halt in the middle of the road. By the garage, a large vehicle with mountain rescue insignia waited, but next to that was a black-and-orange motorbike.

I knew that bike. I’d even been on the back of it once.

I’d been a child then, a teenager playing at being an adult. I’d changed so much in the past couple of years, I wondered if Max would even recognise me.

Even through my hate, I wanted him to.

There was only one way to find out.

I drove on the last twenty meters and parked. As I pulled the keys from the ignition and exited the car, a group of people burst from the entrance to the garage.

A man in a black motorbike helmet led the way, a dark-haired woman pursuing him. Rory, I recognised from her profile picture. But it was the last person who held my attention.

Max chased them, arguing.

For a long moment, I simply stared. He’d changed, too, but I couldn’t so easily tell how. He had the same red hair, the same features. Though his appearance was identical, if a little older, something in his manner was entirely different.

As one, all three people spotted me.

I froze in place.

My determination wavered. I’d come this far yet couldn’t take another step.

Max stared back at me, and I felt… Nothing. That was unexpected, though not unwelcome. I’d have hated myself if I’d burst into tears.

The woman advanced. “Lia?”

At my nod, she turned to the man in the motorbike gear. “Take that off.”

Slowly, the mystery man raised his arms and dragged his helmet from his head. For a brief second, while his gaze was down, I had the benefit of full sight of him.

A twist to his lips. A ghosting of stubble. Then auburn hair.

In stages, a second Max was revealed.

My brain blipped out. I shot a look back to the first Max, then to the second.

Two of him.

A mirage.

My jaw had dropped, so I snapped it closed. “What the hell’s going on?”

“See? She doesn’t know,” Rory said.

It was some kind of cruel trick. My voice came out in a splutter. “Whatever you’re trying to pull isn’t funny.”

Rory raised a hand as if to placate me. “No trick. Did you know Max had a twin?”

A twin? My shoulders bunched higher. “No.”

Neither man said a word, sentinels either side of the American woman. I kept my gaze on her. She’d been my route back here and now became my anchor.

Likewise, Rory kept her gaze trained on mine. “Thank you for coming. I know this is kind of fucked up, but it’s really good that you’re here.” She swallowed, her throat bobbing. “I can tell from your expression that the twin revelation has weirded you out. It answered a question for us, too.”

Tension ran across all three people.

“I’m a friend,” she continued. “I’m engaged to Maddock.” She pointed to the man on her left.

She’d told me she was dating Max’s brother. Which meant the motorbike guy was Max. Despite knowing he was into bikes, I hadn’t caught up with all I was seeing.

I flickered a look at him. At our direct eye contact, electricity licked me.

The shock of recognition I’d been lacking hit me hard. My plan had been to remain coolheaded and to forget how he used to make me feel. Instead, it took everything in me to hold my ground and not stagger under the weight of it all.

I despised him.

I had to do this for Evie.

Summoning my strength, I managed to speak. “Max, your future sister-in-law has better manners than you. I bet she doesn’t even know, does she? She invited me here with all this talk about closure, but I’m certain you didn’t tell her the full story.”

Max’s eyebrows dove together in angry slashes. “What story?”

My pulse sped and, in a heartbeat, I knew this would be a battle. For some reason, he was full of hate, but that wasn’t my problem. I had neither the will nor energy to unpack that.

“Of our daughter.”

Rory gasped, but the twin men shared an identical response. Both reared back and glanced at one another.

Max recovered. “What the fuck are ye talking about?”

“About the pregnancy you chose to ignore,” I spat the lines I’d long rehearsed. “About the perfect baby you wanted no part of. Well, tough. She exists, and I am only here for one thing, to force you to acknowledge her. She’s your child, Max.”

“You have a baby?” Rory asked.

At her side, the other twin dug his fingers into his hair and wheeled away.

“She’s thirteen months old.” My voice cracked.

Max dropped his bike helmet to the gravel. “No.”

“Are you kidding me?” Pent-up frustration hit me. “Yes, she’s real. I know you don’t want anything to do with her, but bad luck. Here.” From my back pocket, I snatched the photo I’d brought.

On it, Evie stood clutching the couch, the picture taken shortly after she’d started walking. She beamed at her own cleverness, and the resemblance to Max was unmistakable. Not just her red curls. They had the same eyes, green like emeralds, full of inquisitiveness.

On her, they were beautiful. On him, treacherous.

I held the picture out. From ten feet away, all three people stared at it, but I kept my gaze on Max. This moment, this reckoning, had been so long in the making. In times of desperation, I’d wondered what his reaction would be to her. My plan all along had been to present her to him, but she was old enough now to feel the tension and his rejection. I would do anything to keep her affectionate, sunshine personality untainted by the denial he’d already shown.

I watched him, my need for any tiny sign of emotion eclipsing every thought.

His features flickered, some strength of feeling surfacing.

Warmth flooded my heart.

God. He recognised her. Without him saying a word, it was right there in his torn expression.

But then he opened his mouth. “How do ye know she’s mine?”

I jerked back, stung.

My tiny flame of hope gutted and extinguished.

“I knew you were heartless, but that is a low blow.” I tossed the picture, and it fluttered down near his feet. “I don’t want anything from you. I’m not asking for money, we are more than provided for, but the least you can do is accept her as yours. She deserves that.”

Tears threatened. I couldn’t let him see. Turning on my heel, I made to march back to the car. What had I been thinking? All this time, I’d made every excuse for Max. At one point, I’d almost believed myself in love with him, before I accepted that couldn’t be possible. I’d been a child, dreaming.

A hand took my shoulder, spinning me back.

Max towered over me, his jaw hard. “Until this second, I had no idea she existed. But I ask ye again, how do ye know she’s mine and not Maddock’s?”

A shocked gasp came from behind him, but I couldn’t acknowledge it.

If I’d been a different person, I would have slapped his face for that insult. Instead, tears clogged my throat. Dad had been right. He’d gently told me how men backed into a corner would lie and shift blame to excuse their shitty behaviour.

But this? His own brother?

“You are a terrible person, Max McRae. If you ever change your mind, I won’t stop you from seeing her,” I said for him alone. “But it’ll be for her sake, not yours. As far as I’m concerned, you can go to hell.”

Without a second look, I returned to my car and skidded on the icy road in a fast turn. Then I sped off, unable to stop the tears from flowing.