Too Late For Regret: His Secret Heir

The heavy iron doors of the federal detention center groaned.

Jake pushed them open.

The freezing November rain of New York hit him instantly. His muscles locked. The cold seeped straight through his thin cotton shirt, but he didn't care. He was out.

He scanned the dark street through the downpour.

He found her.

Grace stood under the yellow glow of a streetlamp.

Jake's heart slammed against his ribs. He ran out into the rain. He opened his arms, wanting nothing more than to bury his face in her neck and breathe her in.

Grace stepped back.

Her spine hit the cold metal of the signpost. She gripped the handle of her black umbrella so hard her knuckles turned completely white. The hard plastic dug into her palm, leaving a deep red indent.

She kept the umbrella between them. A physical barrier.

Jake's arms froze in the air. The rain plastered his dark hair to his forehead.

"Grace?" His voice was hoarse. "What's wrong?"

Grace stared at his chest. If she looked into his eyes, she would vomit. Her stomach was already churning, twisting into tight, painful knots.

"We're done, Jake," she said.

Her voice was flat. The heavy sound of the rain masked the violent shaking of her vocal cords.

Jake blinked. Water dripped from his eyelashes. He reached out, trying to grab her wrist. "You're just scared. It's okay. I'm out on bail. We can figure this out."

Grace violently yanked her arm away.

"Don't touch me," she snapped.

She forced her chin up. She looked at his face. She memorized the way the rain hit his cheekbones.

"I am done," Grace said, raising her voice over the storm. "I am sick of this. I am sick of the lawyers, the panic, the empty bank accounts. You are a bankrupt loser, Jake. I am not going down with you."

Jake stopped breathing.

He stood perfectly still in the mud. His chest stopped moving. He stared at her like she had just driven a knife into his stomach.

"Jake, let's go. The car is waiting." His lawyer, David, hurried over from the waiting car, his expensive leather shoes splashing in the puddles. He was using his briefcase as a makeshift umbrella against the downpour, his shoulders hunched against the biting wind.

Jake shoved the lawyer backward. He didn't take his eyes off Grace.

He took one step closer. He invaded her space.

"Look me in the eyes," Jake whispered. His eyes were bloodshot. "Look me in the eyes and say that again."

Grace looked up. Her heart cramped so hard she felt it in her teeth.

Her face remained completely blank.

She shoved the black umbrella directly into his chest.

The hard plastic handle hit his sternum. Jake stumbled back half a step. The physical force of her rejection knocked the wind out of him.

Grace turned around. She walked toward the black sedan idling at the curb.

She didn't look back.

"Grace!" Jake screamed.

His voice tore through