by Jo Raven
“What’s the little dude doing now?” Erin leans over to look at him and giggles. “God, he’s a looker.”
“It’s the toothless gums. So gorgeous.” I snicker again.
“Won’t be toothless forever, woman.”
Audrey wanders back into the living room, Scott on one arm and his bowl of food in the other.
I get up. “Should you be carrying him, Aud? He’s pretty heavy.”
She pales. “You think I shouldn’t? Here, take him.” She passes him to me and rubs her hand over her tummy. “I sometimes forget there’s another bun in the oven.”
“That’s because you’re not showing yet.”
Scott babbles at me and pats my face with a saliva-covered little hand. He knows me well, so he doesn’t mind me holding him, and although I’m pretty biased when it comes to my own baby—Zay is definitely the prettiest baby in the whole wide world—Scott comes a close second. A miniature copy of his dad, he has pretty blue eyes and hair so dark it’s almost black.
I wonder if the second baby will look like Audrey with her green eyes and red curls.
“Hungry, Scotty?” I swallow hard, like every time I speak his name, though it’s slowly getting easier.
That was the name of the baby brother I never had because he died before he was born, when Mom was beaten pretty badly by one of her boyfriends. I have always felt what happened was my fault—for not saving him, for not reacting fast enough when it happened.
Rafe has told me repeatedly that there was nothing I could have done, no matter what. That I have to let go of the past.
I’m working on it. Although I talked to mom recently, and she wants to come to the wedding. Should I say yes? Should I see her again?
What if she comes bringing another one of her violent boyfriends along? And am I ready to forgive her for the hell she put me through my childhood and later, when her crazy guy came after me?
God, I’m not sure I can. This wedding is proving more stressful than I thought. I haven’t invited many people. Some friends from the places where I worked before. Raylin, my ex-roommate and her millionaire fiancé, soon-to-be husband, Storm, who will have to fly in from Baltimore. Otherwise, most of our friends are here around me, plus the Damage Boyz and their girls.
I have no family here, other than this.
And I’m happy.
“I keep thinking we should put off the weddings,” Erin says, and I sigh. We have discussed this plenty of times. I think we should go through with them, give everyone a bit of a distraction. Erin thinks we shouldn’t.
Frankly, at this point I don’t know what to think anymore. Maybe she’s right.
Scott sits on my lap quite peacefully, opening his mouth when Audrey wiggles the plastic spoon with his food, and I pet his soft hair. He still smells like a baby—powder and baby shampoo and sweetness—although he’ll turn two in a few months.
“Baby face,” I whisper in his little ear and he twitches, half turning to look at me, so that the spoon Audrey is wielding paints his cheek instead of entering his mouth.
“Oh my God.” She starts to laugh kind of hysterically. “You’re… it’s yellow…”
His chubby cheek is streaked with yellow.
“That’s kinda like the scratch that car Zane saw is supposed to have, isn’t it?” Erin says, and our laughter dies.
That’s when the phone rings.
“Hello?” Erin is the only one with her hands free right now, and she frowns at the phone she’s answered. “You what?”
“What’s going on now?” Audrey’s cheeks flush. She glances at me and I shrug.
“I have no clue.”
“Rafe, I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Yeah, I know the police said that. It’s illegal. Not to mention dangerous.” She hunches over, her pretty dark eyes troubled. “But what do you expect to do once you—” Her mouth purses. “Rafe, wait.”
She puts the phone down, glaring at it. “You won’t believe this.”
“What then?”
“They’re going to Kenneth Shaw’s house. They plan to break in and look for evidence.”
“What evidence?” Audrey mutters, looking confused.
“They’re going without us?” I hiss.
“They don’t want to put us in danger.” Erin massages her temples. “And I get it. These guys are really protective.”
“Yeah, but you know what? Screw that.” I pat Scott’s head. “Sorry for the language, buddy. But seriously, I’m going.”
“I’m going, too,” Erin mutters. “No question about it. At least we will make sure the guys don’t do anything stupid.”
Audrey shivers. “I’m coming, too.”
I kiss the top of Scott’s head and he claps his hands. “And the kids?”
“Damage Control,” Erin says, a gleam in her eyes.
“What?” I gape at her. “You sure?”
“It’s time the Damage Boyz got used to babies.” The gleam in her eyes is now positively evil. “I heard rumors that they’ll be having some of their own soon.”
I guess that’s as good a reason as any.
***
“Uh. What am I supposed to be doing?” This is Jesse Lee, full-time tattoo artist in the new shop and one of the Damage Boyz. In his heavily tattooed arms he’s holding baby Isabella and the look in his pretty green eyes is positively terrified. “Erin!”
“Hold her. Don’t drop her.” Erin wags a finger at him. “And pay attention while I explain how to feed and change her, in case we are late.”
“You trusting him with your baby?” Seth chuckles, running his hand through his short black hair. “Are you sure?”
“Hey.” Jesse scowls and cradles Isabella to his chest. A dribble of milk seeps out of her mouth, soaking into his T-shirt. He curses and shoots Erin a panicky look. “She’s leaking milk.”
Oops.
“You wipe her with a napkin,” Erin says firmly and she hands him one. “Here. You can do this, J. I have faith in you.”
He doesn’t look reassured.
“Now you,” I say, and hand my son over to Seth whose grin glazes over. “This is Zay. Just follow the manual.”
“Manual?” His voice has gone kind of high-pitched with horror. “Meg…”
“We will explain everything to you. Just hold him.” Zay looks up at Seth’s rugged face, and their dark gazes meet.
Zay makes a tiny noise and wags his little arms.
“What did he say?” Seth is frowning so hard he’ll have a headache later.
“That he digs your haircut and that you need shaving,” I say with a straight face.
He doesn’t look up but he laughs softly. “He’s a handsome little guy. Hey, Zay. What’s up, buddy?”
Okay, I think Seth’s getting the hang of this. A natural, what do you know, despite the tremor in his muscular arms.
Coming up next… Ah, Shane. He flips his long dark hair over one shoulder and takes a step back when Erin lifts little Scott and presents him like a present.
“Scott, say hi to Uncle Shane.”
“Uh,” Shane says.
“Ai,” Scott tries, and Shane’s eyes go round.
“He said, ‘Hi.’”
“He’s a clever little man,” Erin says. “Hold him?”
And Shane does, letting Scott tug on his hair and rub his jaw, his arms secure around the little body. “What’s this, a kids’ party?”
“Sort of.”
Ocean makes the mistake of popping out of his cubicle and receives baby Emmanuel without warning from Dakota.
“Hey, hi, baby.” He shifts Lee quite expertly upright, supporting the little head. “What’s up?”
“Wait, wait… You have experience with babies?” Dakota is staring openly at him.
“I’ve held a baby or two back at the trailer park where I grew up, while their moms did the chores.” He shrugs. “What’s so strange about it?”
“Nothing.” She giggles. “That’s cute.”
“He’s ready to be
a daddy,” Erin mouths at me, and I choke on laughter.
“What about me?” Micah comes out, raking a hand through his blond hair. His sky-blue eyes look merry, and he’s grinning. “No baby for me?”
“You get to keep an eye on the older kids,” I tell him and nod at Miles who’s holding the hands of Jax and Teo by the door. “Miles is pretty much his own man already, but just in case… you know.”
“Sure, no problem.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “Though I’d been hoping for a baby.”
“Get your own,” I say.
He winks. “Maybe I will.”
Rumors have it that Evangeline, his girlfriend, may be expecting, though they haven’t announced anything yet. The light in his eyes tells me the rumors may be true.
“Well, then. We need to get going.” I nod at Erin who’s explaining to the guys with the babies what to do when the babies cry, and places a paper with all our phone numbers on the reception desk.
“And where are you going?” Jesse asks, already rocking baby Isabella like a pro. My, these guys will make good daddies, I think.
Super sexy daddies.
“Mission impossible,” Erin says without missing a beat. “If I told you, I’d have to kill you, and then who would babysit for us?”
“Good point,” Dakota murmurs, her expression grave.
“What?” Jesse looks from her to me and back to Erin. “It’s a secret? It is a girls’ thing?”
I wonder what a “girls’ thing” is supposed to be.
“Look after the little ones,” Dakota says, “and we’ll be back soon.”
“Thank you!” I call out as we file out the door.
“Have fun!” Erin says and wiggles her fingers at them before the shop door closes behind us.
***
“Meg.” Rafe frowns when I climb out of Dakota’s car outside Kenneth Shaw’s house, but like every time he sees me, his frown melts into a smile. “Hey. What are you doing here?”
“Same thing you are. Standing by our friend.” I nod at Zane who’s standing with Asher, facing the house, talking in low voices.
“Always happy to have you with me,” he admits in a whisper, and I wrap my arms around him. “Although I’d have felt better if you were home, safe.”
“And you don’t think I feel the same way about you?”
From the corner of my eye I see Zane wrap Dakota in his arms, his eyes closing briefly in obvious relief. Tessa is standing beside Dylan, holding his hand. Erin is stroking Tyler’s face, whispering something to him, too low to hear.
Stupid boys. They need us as much as we need them. Wanting to protect us is sweet, but they have to learn that the feeling is mutual. That we share everything, the good and the bad times, the fear and the danger and the pain along with the happiness and pleasure.
We’re right where we want to be.
“All right.” Dakota turns to face us. She has dark circles under her eyes, and her face is lined with fatigue and sadness, but her voice carries over us. The same voice that blares out the lyrics of punk rock songs when she performs with her band, DeathMoth. There’s determination in her blue eyes, and despite her diminutive size, she has us gathering around her without hesitation. “Let’s decide how to do this. You got something to open the door with?”
Asher lifts a folded cloth, red tinging his cheekbones. “Here.”
“You know how to break into a house?” Audrey whispers, eyes wide.
“Had to do it sometimes, at home, when I had to sneak in and my window wouldn’t open,” he whispers back.
I clap a hand over my mouth not to laugh.
“Good. Do we know if he’s inside?”
“We knocked, and rang the doorbell,” Tyler says. “Nobody answered.”
“Okay, we should split up,” Dakota says. “Front and back door, and we post lookouts, in case he comes back and catches us by surprise.”
“And since when are you an expert in breaking into houses?” Zane mutters, sliding an arm around Dakota and pulling her to his side. He looks vaguely amused, although exhaustion seems to hang around his neck like a stone.
“Movies.” She flicks him a smile. “Watched lots of them while breastfeeding.”
It makes Zane chuckle, and it’s a good sound.
“We go in,” she continues, “check the house for anything suspicious. Any sign of anyone else living inside, any kids, any pets, any sign of violence, any signs he has abandoned the house never to come back. Because we need to know.”
“If the police located him and contacted him, he may have skipped town,” Rafe says darkly. “That’s why we decided to act quickly. If he’s gone, we may never find him again.”
Makes sense.
“If he’s in there, if he’s armed…” Dylan chews on the inside of his cheek. “We leave, we get out, we call for help. No heroic acts. No attempt to overpower him. Got it?”
We all nod obediently. Truth is, I think even those of us who once didn’t value their lives so much have come a long way to cherishing them. We have families, kids, people who love us and we appreciate what we have. Whole-heartedly.
I think of my baby boy in Seth’s arms and shiver.
Then I glance at Zane who’s gazing at the house of the man who stripped his childhood innocence away, who gave him nightmares and made it hard for him to trust in love, and let out a huge breath.
“Come on,” I say, tugging on Rafe’s arm. “Let’s find a way to put this bastard behind bars before he has the chance to hurt anyone ever again.”
Chapter Twenty Six
Rafe
I shouldn’t be so happy Meg is here with me, trying to break into the house of a potentially dangerous man. Every protective instinct in me—and I have lots of those—screams at me to get her away, to keep her out of harm’s way.
But I’m happy, and calm seeps through my system like every time she’s close to me. She’s the steady, warm, perfect part of me, and after a day spent in near panic, with guilt eating at my insides, her presence is a soothing balm.
Until she tells me who she left our kid with, that is.
“With the Damage Boyz? Seriously?” I feel panic welling up again. “Those klutzes will fucking drop him!”
“I think they’re naturals.” She winks at me, and smiles, and I swear she’s laughing at me inside. “You need to hold a baby to learn how to hold a baby. Like we did. Zay will be fine.”
I swallow back my protests. She’s right. And I trust the guys at Damage. She trusts them, too, obviously, or she wouldn’t have left Zay with them.
“Silence your phones,” Tessa whispers at us as we stalk toward the house. “Keep your voices low.”
Faced with the house as night is falling I have a brief moment of doubt.
Okay, moment of truth: I’ve been battling doubt all day. Questioning my decision to come here, to look for fuck knows what. Most probably we’ll find nothing, and I’ll have endangered my friends’ safety, and for what?
I shouldn’t have told Dylan or anyone else. They’re my family. I should have known they’d all show up.
I should have come alone.
And yet I smile at my girl when she squeezes my hand and bites her lower lip, sinking those white teeth into the caramel flesh, her dark eyes studying me. I lean in for a quick kiss and pray this crazy expedition will be worth the fucking ulcer I can feel coming on.
Asher is crouched by the back door, fiddling with his tools, when we approach. He works a thin instrument into the lock, jiggling it right and left.
Over my shoulder I glance back at the street where Tyler and Erin are keeping watch. I know Dylan and Tessa have gone to keep watch on the other side, leaving six of us to check the house: Asher and Audrey, Zane and Dakota, Megan and myself.
I could still call this off. If the others listen to me. It was my idea, after all. I mean, what the hell do I expect to find? A conveniently written confession? Selfies of him with kids he abused taped to the walls?
Fuck, this was a
terrible idea. At the time, I couldn’t think of a better one.
Still can’t.
The lock clicks, and Asher grabs the handle. He turns it slowly and pushes the door open.
A glance at our lookouts shows we’re in the clear. I give Asher a thumbs-up, and he slips inside, pulling Audrey with him. Dakota follows, tugging on Zane’s hand, and then it’s our turn.
We step into darkness, and it takes my eyes a moment to adjust to the faint light of the city-lit sky slanting through the curtains on the windows.
It’s the kitchen. And there’s a smell of rot and must that hits me like a fist in the chest. It’s all I can do not to cough as we tread through the space littered with trash. There’s a pile of unwashed dishes in the sink, and flies buzzing over them.
Fuck.
There’s a sick feeling in my stomach as we enter the living room we’d glimpsed through the windows at the front and walk among piles of trash.
Either the guy is long gone, or there’s something seriously wrong with his mind. I’d go with the latter, but trash left to rot isn’t proof of criminal activity, unfortunately.
As we trudge through the first floor rooms, climb upstairs to have a look at the small attic and climb back down, it looks more and more like the guy is indeed gone. Like, for good.
The house looks as if it has been abandoned for a while. Days, at least. Perhaps he did see Zane and decided to leave town just in case?
Weird, though.
Unless he really has something to hide.
But what? And where?
Megan shoots me a troubled glance, and I walk over to where she’s been rifling through a drawer to stroke her face.
“You okay?” I whisper.
She nods against my hand. “We won’t find anything, will we?”
I stroke her chin. “We’re not done looking yet.”
“He wouldn’t leave anything incriminating lying around. If he was so stupid, he’d have been caught long ago.”
Or he doesn’t think we can find the evidence. Hidden in plain sight, maybe. Disguised as something else, or kept in a place we haven’t discovered yet.
But despite the insistent feeling of disquiet screaming in my mind as we sweep every corner, we find nothing, and about an hour later, we walk out and close the kitchen door behind us.
