January 2014

Edinburgh, Scotland

Gabe set down his empty glass. It was time to go, but he had no desire to return to the room he shared with Quinn. He was still angry and upset, despite the three glasses of whisky he’d just downed. The alcohol took the edge off, as it usually did, but Gabe’s mind was still crystal clear, his thoughts swirling around in self-destructive patterns. Truth be told, he was upset long before Quinn even came back, which was why he’d decided to go to bed and not drive himself mad while he waited for her. He wasn’t so much worried for her safety as for her state of mind. Like so many adopted children, she’d fantasized about her birth parents and had elevated them to God-like status in her mind, having no real character flaws to pin on them. No child wanted to believe that their parent had been a prostitute, or a junkie, or just someone who couldn’t get rid of their infant fast enough. They chose to believe that their parents had been beautiful, idealistic, and in love when they were conceived, and that insurmountable obstacles prevented them from keeping their beloved child.

As far as birth mothers went, Sylvia Wyatt certainly wasn’t the worst candidate, but her story had broken something in Quinn, and now she was determined to find the man who fathered her through an act of violence. Given the circumstances, Gabe couldn’t imagine that Quinn genuinely hoped for a relationship with the man, so what exactly would bring her a sense of resolution? She hadn’t been herself since finding out about the night she was conceived, and the force that drove her to seek out these men was more destructive than healthy.

Gabe understood Quinn’s desire to look her biological father in the face, but this wasn’t the woman he knew. His Quinn would have confronted the man head-on, instead of going to his room when she knew exactly what he was after, and then threatening him with exposure when things didn’t go her way. She was allowing her emotions to get in the way of personal safety and good sense, and Gabe was worried about what this would do to her in the long run.

If Robert Chatham turned out to be a match, Quinn would still not be satisfied, especially since she disliked the man so intensely. Perhaps, in time, she might have reconciled herself to Rhys Morgan, who seemed to be a good man despite the mistakes of his youth. Robert Chatham was an entirely different article, and a nasty one at that. And if Chatham proved not to be a match, then Quinn would move Heaven and Earth to find Seth Besson, who at this point could be anywhere. Just knowing that he was the last man standing would not appease Quinn, but she’d need to meet the man and evaluate him for herself.

Gabe sighed and seriously considered ordering another drink, but they were picking up Emma in a few hours, so he had to be sober and alert. The thought of Emma instantly put a smile on his face. He wished with all his heart that Emma hadn’t lost her mother, but now that he knew she was his, he couldn’t imagine a life without her. He’d known her for only a few days, but she’d already kindled something within him that was so powerful that it fascinated and scared him in equal parts. He still had to keep reminding himself that this was real, and once they left Edinburgh, Emma would be his responsibility. The thought sobered him, but the joy he felt when imagining her in his life forever took his breath away. How could he not have known that he was a dad? How was it that his subconscious did not alert him to the fact that a part of him was out there in the world, going about her childish business and spending day after day without knowing of his existence?

And now Quinn, who was going through this existential turmoil, had been cast in the role of mother without any warning or choice, and had to deal with life-altering circumstances at a time when she should have been enjoying her time as a bride-to-be. He knew it wasn’t fair of him to spring parenthood on her or to expect her to simply step into the role of mum without any reservations, but part of him wished that Quinn would just give up this quest of hunting down her father and concentrate on the situation life had handed them. The next few months would be crucial, and, selfish as it sounded, he needed her support.

Gabe got to his feet and walked out of the dimly lit bar. There had been at least a dozen people when he’d come in a few hours ago, but now the bar was almost empty, the bartender wiping down the counter and collecting used glasses in preparation for closing. It was later than Gabe had realized. He walked the few blocks back to the hotel and entered the lobby, which was deserted. The night porter had snuck off to the back office and was watching television, a cup of coffee in his hand. Gabe walked quietly past and, instead of taking the stairs to the second floor, continued on to the guest lounge at the back of the building. There were several wing chairs arranged in front of the cold fireplace and a comfortable sofa bracketed by end tables piled with magazines and newspapers. It would have to do. He’d have to be up in a few hours anyway. Gabe stretched out on the sofa and fell into an uneasy sleep, dreaming of leering men and giggling little girls.