The reality that she wouldn't be likely to have any memories of her father when she was older was something I couldn't think about without breaking down. It echoed my motherless childhood too closely.
I missed my husband. I missed having a partner. But more than anything, I missed my kids having a father.
"You almost ready, Princess?" I asked her, finishing up the pan and turning her attention back to me. Her expression smoothed out, a bright smile transforming her heart-shaped face.
"Yes, mommy," she peeped, holding up her arms in her high chair. Taking the wet washcloth, I cleaned all the evidence of her breakfast from her face and out of her hair the best I could.
"Are you ready to go see your Grandpa?" I asked as I lifted her out of the chair and carried her into the living room where Axel waited. Hanging out with my dad at his garage had quickly become my little princess's favorite pastime, and I couldn't blame her. I'd spent many years watching him restore vintage cars and handing him tools, feeling like his little helper.
The absence of my mom made it necessary.
I knew my dad probably never expected he'd have to do it all over again with his granddaughter, but I also knew he loved Ines and Axel with everything he was. He would give anything to enjoy his time with them—even be less productive at the shop.
I helped Ines into her spring jacket, zipping her up and booping her nose so she giggled and filled the silence with just a little piece of joy.
I'd take whatever I could get that day.
As soon as I bundled her up, Axel stepped forward to take her little hand in his while I grabbed her bag of toys to play with for the few hours she would spend at the shop with her Grandpa. They stood by the door and waited patiently while I grabbed my purse, and then we were out for another hectic morning of drop-offs.
Axel held his sister tight until I got the car door open and hoisted her inside. Always her protector, it overjoyed me to see just how close they’d become in the absence of Chad. I loved that he stepped up to help with Ines. I just hated that it was necessary at all.
Perhaps it was time to consider Aunt Sigrid’s encouragement that the time had come to consider dating again. Even if the thought filled me with dread, didn’t I owe it to my son to give him a father figure? To let him sit back and be a kid again?
I did everything I could, but for a boy who’d been raised with a hero for a father, it just wasn’t enough.
I wasn’t enough, and I never would be. No matter how much I wanted to be.
Once I’d gotten Ines settled into her seat, I walked around to the driver’s side of the car and opened the backdoor to check that Axel fastened himself in correctly. He rolled his eyes at me. Always my independent man who knew he could do it himself. I checked every time anyway, because I would never forgive myself if I didn’t and something happened. He’d understand one day.
I pressed a sloppy kiss to his cheek that made him groan. “Mommy,” he protested, wiping his cheek with the sleeve of his jacket furiously. Once I climbed in the front seat and started the car, music from Ines’s favorite princess movie immediately assaulted me, and Axel groaned again.
Backing out of the driveway while I changed it to the radio, Ines voiced her protest. “Princess, Mommy!”
“You know how it works, baby. You got the stereo yesterday. Today is Axel’s turn.” She pursed her little lips into a scowl as she glared at me, but I ignored it. I did not have time for a two-year-old tantrum today.
Nope.
I would not feed the terror that was my toddler.
Pulling up to my dad’s shop a few minutes later, any threat of a meltdown disappeared the moment she saw her Grandpa strolling out the door. He tugged her door open, looking all around the interior of the car. “Where’s my favorite granddaughter?” he asked. “Calla Lily, did you forget her at home?”
“Here, Grampa!” she squealed, kicking her little legs.
“Oh!” He smacked his forehead playfully. “How could I have missed the prettiest girl in the world?” His hands went to her car seat, unbuckling her and tugging her into his arms. “Have a good day at school, my Axel boy,” he added, turning that warm smile to his grandson.
I’d long since been convinced that there was nothing my dad couldn’t fix, so when he made Axel smile, it only confirmed my belief. The man was a miracle worker.
“I’ll try, Grandpa.”
“She has juice and snacks in her bag, and she brought her ponies today—” I started, wincing when he narrowed his eyes at me.
Dad shrugged me off, “Somehow, I kept you alive all your childhood. I think I’ve got it covered.” Axel laughed in the back seat, and I twisted my face up to glare at both of them. Moms just couldn’t help themselves.
“Try not to get into too much trouble today, my darling daughter.” My dad’s words only deepened my glare as I stuck my tongue out at him. He grabbed Ines’s bag from the floor of the back seat, and then I steeled my spine as I backed out of my parking space to bring Axel to school.
I swear you get in one public argument with the President of the PTA, and people never let you live it down.
Psh.
Thankfully, Axel’s school and the yoga studio were close to Dad’s shop, so we only drove in silence for a few minutes before I parked in the studio lot and hopped out. Axel climbed out of the back, hoisting his bookbag up into place. It was too heavy for his age, but my boy wouldn’t have it any other way. He let me hold his hand as we walked down the sidewalk and crossed the street. Every morning I thanked my lucky stars that I’d gotten a job at the studio right next to his school, because between dropping off Ines and then dropping off Axel, the idea of having to load myself into the car to go to some other part of town to work for a few hours exhausted me.
The wrought-iron fencing and the gate of the school came into view, and I tried not to flinch at the sight of all the moms dropping their kids off and looking immaculate in their trendy clothes.
Drop off was always painful. I was always the mom who rolled up in elastic-waist pants in a school that rolled its eyes every time I set foot inside it.
The fact was, Axel was smart. Too smart for public school, apparently.
He had a head for numbers, understanding them in a way that I had no clue where it came from. His school picked him out of the class in his first week of preschool, saying he was an exceptionally gifted boy.
He'd been reading when his classmates were learning the alphabet. He could count to one hundred when they were counting to ten. So, Chad and I had pulled the money out of nowhere, paying the tuition for the fancy private school that hosted gifted children. They strongly emphasized the importance of having a parental figure at home to encourage learning and help with the pile of homework they sent home every night. Most days, I wondered if I should just let Axel be more of a kid, but I couldn’t deny the joy he felt when he solved the latest problems they presented him with.
So I tolerated the perfect moms with the flawless blowouts and the stylish outfits and snide looks. So what if I pulled my platinum hair into a messy bun on my head? So what if my black yoga pants clung to my thighs in a way that the elite found inappropriate?
I did what I had to do to get by in the shit situation life threw at me.
"You'll pick me up early?" he asked as we stepped up to the gates, and the sadness in his voice made me glance down at him. He was normally so excited for school, darting off so quickly I sometimes had to fight to get a hug goodbye.
I sighed, nodding as I hugged him tight. "Yeah, Axe. I'll pick you up early. Just a few hours, and we'll go see your Dad. Okay?"
"Okay, Mommy."
"I love you." I didn't bother to tell him to have a good day. I wasn't that naïve.
"I love you too," he whispered, before darting inside the gates of the school. Two of his friends met up with him, flanking him in that way that only your closest friends could manage. His best friend, James, glanced back at me, giving me a wave as if to say he had it covered.
/> I nodded back at him, pressing a hand to my face before I stepped away and out of sight. James had been there for Axel through the funeral. He'd been there through all of it. He'd see my boy through the day.
I just had to get through mine.
Determined to do just that, I turned my back on the school and made my way back down the road to the crosswalk. On any normal day, having only ten minutes before my first class started would have stressed me out. But I couldn’t wait to clear my head and lose myself in yoga. So, with that in mind, I hurried across the street—waving to the car that let me cross.
A familiar face waited for me on the other side, greeting me with a smile like every other day. “Good morning, beautiful,” he murmured when my foot touched the sidewalk.
I resisted the urge to huff a laugh. “Good morning, Casey.” Sometimes, I wondered if he even knew my name, or if he just ignored it. Though our interactions were very brief, he always inserted a compliment in his greeting.
He bit his bottom lip shyly, his fair skin looking like such a harsh contrast next to the black fabric of his suit. It didn’t fit him, but there was no chance I would invite him to continue a conversation with me by making observations about his appearance. “Are you busy tonight?”
Even if I’d suspected the words might come, I hadn’t ever wanted them. While Casey was an amiable man, I just wasn’t interested. If I ever dated again, it would be for the sake of the kids, but even then, I wanted a man who could consume me. A man who could be consumed by me and make me feel like I was the center of his universe.
While my marriage had been content, I wished for a future one to be what you could only read about in romance books. It was a shame it didn’t exist, and even if it did, it wouldn’t for me. To love was to lose, and I would never put myself at risk for that again.
“I have plans with my kids,” I said, not bothering to mention the rather unfortunate timing of his decision to prod into my plans and life.
“What about this weekend?” he asked, and I sighed lightly and rubbed my arms awkwardly.
His face dropped instantly, and he could read my body language well enough to know what was coming. “You should probably know I’m not interested in dating,” I said, keeping my voice as soft as I could. “I have my kids, and they’re all I need.”
“Right,” he said, rubbing his hand over the back of his head. “Of course. That makes sense.” It was comical to watch how he tried to understand the rejection, but I imagined that he didn’t put himself out there often. Not when it had taken him months to work up the courage to ask me.
“I’ll catch you later,” I said, ducking into the yoga studio to avoid the awkwardness of that conversation. I didn’t get asked out often, fortunately for me. Dealing with the aftermath was shit.
Once I was inside the studio with the calming music and my mat at the front of the room, I drew in what felt like my first deep breath of the day. The scent of rose hit me, the essential oil of the night before permeating the space in a relaxing aroma.
As much as the yoga studio had started as just a job I was qualified to do, after years of staying home with the kids, I’d quickly become dependent on it. It would be a sad day when I left town and the studio behind. When I officially saved enough money despite our benefactor funds running out, we’d move somewhere smaller, somewhere new where people didn’t look at us with sympathy, and memories of Chad didn’t assault me every time I turned around. By the time I stripped my shoes off and dropped my purse in the back of the studio, students filled the main room and laid out their mats. I went to my own, standing and smiling at my class even though it was the last thing I felt like doing.
It felt like my theme for the day.
Five
Ryker
My knuckles dripped blood as I stepped into the warehouse.
That was a first.
The stupid fucker should have listened to me when I told him to stay away from my woman. Instead, he’d laid the groundwork to ask her out. The only reason he’d walked away alive was because Calla turned him down succinctly. If she hadn’t, I’d be wringing blood from my clothes.
The black jeans on my legs felt too restrictive on my ass and thighs, too tight against my skin, and I knew they needed replacing. I’d gained more mass in the previous month than any other. When waiting for Calla to be mine became unbearable, I spent my days in my home gym or preparing for her insertion into my life. Toddler proofing my home proved interesting, but I wouldn't risk Ines and Axel's safety for the sake of keeping the aesthetic of my converted warehouse.
I could have worn one of my new suits, but I didn't want to waste them on wet work. They didn't belong in my filthy torture chamber and covered in the blood of my enemies.
My boots were fairly new, fortunately. My last victim had bled so much that the old ones filled with blood, and there was just no getting the metallic scent of blood out of them. When I thought of Calla or the kids stumbling on them, I physically grimaced.
I'd gone waterproof with my newest pair.
The black T-shirt clung to my chest and strained against my arms, and even I had to realize that if I wanted to have any chance of not terrifying the living shit out of Calla when she got a good look at me, getting bigger probably hadn't been the best way to go.
My woman was in for a shock, but she was strong. Stronger than anyone expected of her, I suspected.
Most people saw the little pescatarian, yoga instructor widow and thought life had sufficiently beaten her down. I saw how she only shone brighter for the suffering life thrust at her.
She wasn't broken. She just sacrificed every bit of herself for her kids, just the way she had even when Chad had been in the picture. But those days were done.
One more day and she would no longer be a single mother. She'd be mine. Those kids would be mine.
The way they always should have been.
"Yo, where you been?" Simon asked, grinning at me as I stepped into the freezer. Simon was classically handsome, unlike most of the rest of the Bellandis, with dark hair and eyes that attracted even the most skittish of women—lulling them into a false sense of security. Like the devil couldn’t be attractive. He glanced down at the fists still clenched at my sides. “You realize you’re bleeding, right?”
“Not mine,” I grunted.
Simon widened his eyes on my face, staring at me like I’d lost my mind. It didn’t bother me in the slightest, not with how common of an occurrence it was. “And you didn’t wash your hands?”
“I’m just going to get bloody again,” I told him, watching as Matteo’s chest shook with a silent chuckle in the corner of the room where he lurked in the shadows. So like me in some ways, but so different in others.
Namely, he didn’t have the same thirst for blood and screams that I did.
The man sitting strapped down to the wooden chair in the center of the room struggled against his binds. Matteo stepped out of the shadows as the door mostly closed behind me, leaving just a crack for some fresh air to get in. The freezer stunk like death and the floors were stained by all the blood that had spilt over the years I'd been working for the Bellandis, since Matteo's father brought me on.
Matteo hadn't technically been a grown man then, still nearly a year away from his high school graduation and entirely wrapped up in Ivory. He'd never known about the slaughter his father had allowed in exchange for my services.
"You know, there was a day when you would always beat me here," Matteo chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest and raising his brow at me.
He was right. For years, this place and the release it offered had been the only thing that kept me going.
Then, after I'd met my Sunshine, it had been the only thing to distract me from the obsession that coursed through my veins like the sweetest torment. The moment she cast her light on the shadows I called home, the piece of me I'd thought gone forever snapped back into place.
"I think we can give him a break today," Simon laughed, stepping up
to the man in the chair. He grabbed him by the hair, tugging his head back until he looked up at Simon with pleading eyes. "Don't you think so, Seamus?" he asked, and the middle-aged man nodded his head enthusiastically.
"Guess you're in luck. Tiernan's lowlife says to cut you a break. I guess it isn't every day you get ready to lock your woman and her kids in your house for the foreseeable future." Matteo smiled at me. "I do not envy you the kids. They complicate things."
I shrugged, because I didn't see it that way in the slightest. Without the kids, Calla would fight me every step of the way. She wouldn't go as quietly as Ivory had when Matteo claimed her. She'd be much more likely to claw my eyes out while I slept. With them, I had some leverage, because she would do whatever it took to keep them safe.
Even if it meant keeping them oblivious to the circumstances of their move and biting her tongue when she wanted to verbally assault me.
Underneath her peace-loving, granola crunching exterior, my Sunshine had a creative grasp on the English language.
Even if I never intended to hurt them, those kids were my leverage. It just so happened that I adored them as much as I loved their mother. I'd watched them grow, arguably a more present fixture in their lives than their biological father had been, even when he wasn't buried six feet in the ground.
They didn't know it, but I'd seen it all.
"They're mine as much as she is," I added with another shrug when Matteo looked at me expectantly. He looked thoughtful for a moment before his face broke into a dark grin that made the man in the chair tremble even more. "Is Don ready for tomorrow?" I asked, instead of letting Matteo steer the conversation further down the path of my relationship with my woman. If he hadn't had Ivory, I wouldn't have been able to tolerate his interest in her. Even with Ivory, it was difficult to resist the urge to cut him.
I didn't like people who showed an interest in Calla. I'd spent far too much time over the past year chasing off would-be suitors looking to take from her.
Nobody but me would ever touch her again, and the entire year she'd gone without sex would help make her as desperate as I felt every day when I jerked off to thoughts of her.
Grieved Loss: A Dark Mafia Romance (Bellandi Crime Syndicate Book 3) Page 3
