The Hitman's Baby - A Bad Boy Secret Baby Romance (With extra added bonus novel for a short time only!) by Ashley Rhodes
Authors: Ashley Rhodes
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conversation she ever had with him about his father happened the night she finally got to take Ramon home. She laid him down next to her on her bed, swaddled in a plain blue blanket from the hospital, and watched him blink and squirm and yawn after she’d fed him, and talked to him now because she knew that later she wouldn’t be able to be so candid.
“He was a troubled man,” she told him. “He… he killed a lot of people, and his soul was heavy. But he saved me. And whatever else he’s done, he managed to put a little bit of light and good back into the world. That’s you, mi hijito. My little light from your Papa.”
That worked, for a while. Until Ramon was five he never really questioned not having a father. They were happy. Cassandra had managed to get through the most difficult stage of his life on her own and that that time he was nearing kindergarten and balancing his schedule with hers would become drastically less complicated.
He had grown into his father’s shape already—she could see the ghost of those broad shoulders, the promise of a prominent brow. He had the same cleft in his chin that no one in Cassandra’s family had. He was a brooding child, at times, too, and that worried her with irrational thoughts—what if he’d somehow inherited his father’s darkness?
Whatever darkness Nick had had, she told herself, he had light, too. That was what warranted focusing on.
After his first week of school, he asked about his father, in a roundabout way.
“My friend Tommy has a mommy and a daddy,” he said that evening while he pushed peas around his place with a fork.
“Some people have mommies and daddies,” Cassandra told her son casually. “Some people only have mommies and some people only have daddies. Families come in all configurations and shapes. Some people even have two mommies or two daddies. It just depends.”
“Tommy says you have to have a mommy and a daddy,” Ramon insisted plaintively.
Well, Tommy was a privileged little runt, Cassandra thought; but she didn’t say it. She’d known this was going to happen eventually, and thought for five long years about what she would say when it did. “Everyone has a mommy and a daddy, mi mijito,” she said. “But sometimes… sometimes their mommy or daddy doesn’t get to stay and see their little love grow up.”
“Why?”
“Because when you are an adult, life can require you to make hard choices.”
“Why?”
“Because…” he was gazing at her with those intelligent, penetrating eyes. “…because we have to make our way through the world, and we can’t always do what we want to.”
“Why?”
She chuckled, and ruffled his hair. “So many questions. I will answer them all, but not right now. You need to eat your dinner, and then it’s time for a bath before you go to bed.”
Ramon shrugged, and lifted a small mouthful of peas to his mouth. His little gears were turning, though. She could see it. He was frighteningly smart for his age, she thought. But, maybe all mothers thought that of their children. She didn’t know.
She still hadn’t made many friends. It was a long habit and hard to break. Ramon was making friends at school, though. Soon she’d have to socialize.
The story she had given other people, other adults, was that Ramon’s father had died. It was the easiest thing to say, really, and while responses often were sympathetic it wasn’t what she was looking for. She just preferred not to deal with further questions on the matter. Questions would invite her to slip up and she couldn’t afford that.
But she couldn’t quite bring herself to tell Ramon that his father had died. With anyone else, there was no chance at all that they would meet Nick and realize she’d lied to them. Other single mothers—she knew a couple—would probably appreciate the value of the lie in simplifying things. Ramon, though, stood some chance of meeting his father one day, however remote.
Though, for all she
“He was a troubled man,” she told him. “He… he killed a lot of people, and his soul was heavy. But he saved me. And whatever else he’s done, he managed to put a little bit of light and good back into the world. That’s you, mi hijito. My little light from your Papa.”
That worked, for a while. Until Ramon was five he never really questioned not having a father. They were happy. Cassandra had managed to get through the most difficult stage of his life on her own and that that time he was nearing kindergarten and balancing his schedule with hers would become drastically less complicated.
He had grown into his father’s shape already—she could see the ghost of those broad shoulders, the promise of a prominent brow. He had the same cleft in his chin that no one in Cassandra’s family had. He was a brooding child, at times, too, and that worried her with irrational thoughts—what if he’d somehow inherited his father’s darkness?
Whatever darkness Nick had had, she told herself, he had light, too. That was what warranted focusing on.
After his first week of school, he asked about his father, in a roundabout way.
“My friend Tommy has a mommy and a daddy,” he said that evening while he pushed peas around his place with a fork.
“Some people have mommies and daddies,” Cassandra told her son casually. “Some people only have mommies and some people only have daddies. Families come in all configurations and shapes. Some people even have two mommies or two daddies. It just depends.”
“Tommy says you have to have a mommy and a daddy,” Ramon insisted plaintively.
Well, Tommy was a privileged little runt, Cassandra thought; but she didn’t say it. She’d known this was going to happen eventually, and thought for five long years about what she would say when it did. “Everyone has a mommy and a daddy, mi mijito,” she said. “But sometimes… sometimes their mommy or daddy doesn’t get to stay and see their little love grow up.”
“Why?”
“Because when you are an adult, life can require you to make hard choices.”
“Why?”
“Because…” he was gazing at her with those intelligent, penetrating eyes. “…because we have to make our way through the world, and we can’t always do what we want to.”
“Why?”
She chuckled, and ruffled his hair. “So many questions. I will answer them all, but not right now. You need to eat your dinner, and then it’s time for a bath before you go to bed.”
Ramon shrugged, and lifted a small mouthful of peas to his mouth. His little gears were turning, though. She could see it. He was frighteningly smart for his age, she thought. But, maybe all mothers thought that of their children. She didn’t know.
She still hadn’t made many friends. It was a long habit and hard to break. Ramon was making friends at school, though. Soon she’d have to socialize.
The story she had given other people, other adults, was that Ramon’s father had died. It was the easiest thing to say, really, and while responses often were sympathetic it wasn’t what she was looking for. She just preferred not to deal with further questions on the matter. Questions would invite her to slip up and she couldn’t afford that.
But she couldn’t quite bring herself to tell Ramon that his father had died. With anyone else, there was no chance at all that they would meet Nick and realize she’d lied to them. Other single mothers—she knew a couple—would probably appreciate the value of the lie in simplifying things. Ramon, though, stood some chance of meeting his father one day, however remote.
Though, for all she
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