The Suit (The Bro Series Book 3)

by Xavier Neal

  Eden’s ramblings about romantic comedies being the base blame for our breakup finally come to end. “You know, this whole problem totally could’ve been avoided had you just let Thatch and Ian do you a favor. But you refused. Higher road and all that shit.”

  My fingertips massage my scalp in an attempt to soothe my restless mind. “Is this really the best advice you have to give me?”

  “No, but you won’t take the advice I gave you last week when you called crying the first time.”

  After Hattie wailed profusely in my arms about not wanting to lose her Dad, she ate just enough to have permission to go to her room for the rest of the night. She didn’t want a bath. She refused to read a book. She barely even spoke to me before school the next morning. While the teenage style silent treatment has begun to fade away, she constantly asks me about Pax, and why hasn’t he come back. When will he come back? Does he miss her like she misses him? Basically, all the questions that keep me up bawling my eyes out, not only because I hate seeing her hurt, but because I feel the exact same fucking way. What choice did I really have? Risk losing the ability to protect my daughter like I can now or sacrifice a little bit of happiness to guarantee it.

  Simple choice.

  Okay, not exactly simple, but I made it.

  I have to stick by it.

  I have to protect my little girl.

  “Talk to him,” Eden huffs loudly.

  “E-”

  “No,” she immediately interrupts. “I’m serious, Ry. Listen to me, and listen good. You miss him. Hattie misses him. Your lives miss him. Call Pax and invite him over. Talk this shit through.”

  “But Jesse-”

  “Fuck Jesse.”

  The bite shuts my mouth.

  “He’s been trying to destroy your life long enough. You are not the same broken party girl you were when Hattie was born, Ry. You’re smarter now. Stronger. And thanks to Pax, happier because you brushed off the dirt of the old you that we all missed. Let Jesse try to take you for more custody in court. He’s most likely banking on you not having the balls to face him there.”

  I don’t. His attorney is objectively better than mine. Besides, I’m not sure I have the greatest faith in a legal system that has yet to punish him for any of the other bullshit he’s been caught for like the DUI that magically never happened on record.

  “Face him. Take Pax with you, too, and face him together. Prove to Jesse…no…prove to yourself that you don’t have to fight your battles alone. That you have family that cares. That supports you. That wants to help protect you and Hattie. Stop being fucking stubborn and call him.”

  There’s a soft knock on the front door. “Did you really just call me stubborn? Do we need to take a moment and recall your heel digging moments with the two men you’re in love with?”

  Eden pretends to have gone deaf. “Hm?”

  “Exactly.” I stand to my feet on a snicker. “I gotta go, but thanks for the advice. Again.”

  “Just use it this time, and we’ll call it even.”

  We exchange quick goodbyes just seconds prior to me opening the door.

  Jesse’s disheveled nature and red eyes kick alarm into my system.

  Was he really getting high around our daughter?!

  My daughter.

  Not his.

  Never his.

  He shoves Hattie forward. “Here’s the fucking kid.”

  I quickly lean down to embrace her. She wobbles sluggishly into my arms, head flopping pathetically onto my shoulder, Barry hanging weakly in her clutches. “Hi, Mom.”

  Squeezing her close, I inquire, “You okay, princess?”

  “She’s fucking whiney,” Jesse grunts. “’I want my dad. I want my dad. I want my dad.’ What the fuck do you mean you want me? I’m right here!”

  “Do not yell at her.”

  “That’s the only way she’ll ever learn to fucking listen!”

  “You’re not my dad,” Hattie quietly pouts. “Pax is my dad.”

  He rubs his ear in a disgusting manner having missed her faint words.

  With a soothing rub to her back, I state, “Can you go inside for me, please? I’ll be right in to make you something to eat.”

  “Not hungry,” her small voice gets smaller.

  “Go.” Hattie’s body slumps away inside, Barry dangling from her grip, and I crack the door closed to give us a shred of privacy from her young eyes. “Are you fucked up right now?”

  Jesse shrugs rather than answer.

  “Unbelievable,” I mutter, before quickly backtracking. “Actually, totally believable. This is exactly the type of shit you do. The type of shit that should not allow you to have more custody let alone the custody you currently have!”

  A small smirk crosses his lips. “Too bad your shitty lawyer boyfriend can’t save you from that battle or from me taking you in other ways right now if I want. Or should I say ex-boyfriend, babe?”

  “I don’t have to save her,” Pax’s voice booms unexpectedly. “I don’t have to protect her. It’s a fucking choice.” He finishes his stride to the porch. “I suggest you choose to walk off this porch before I throw you off it.”

  “See,” Jesse practically spits. “Fear for the kid’s life.”

  Pax’s hand clamps around Jesse’s throat. “You should fear for your own.”

  Without exerting much effort, he begins to drain the life out of Jesse’s face. Watching his drugged eyes bulge and seeing his body flail provides me with two very distinct emotions. Satisfaction that for once this bastard is getting a taste of true justice and security that I know I’ll never feel with another person.

  “Enough,” I quietly state like it’s a magic word.

  His grip vanishes and Jesse hunches over, coughing and gasping for air mumbling, “You’re gonna regret that.”

  Pax’s stoic expression remains. “Non lo faro.”

  Jesse’s eyebrows furrow in what I imagine is a bit of fear and confusion.

  Unable to resist the chance to be snarky, I question, “Do you need me to translate?”

  He gives us both the finger and storms over to his car. We wait and watch together for him to speed off down the road, only letting our eyes connect when he’s rounded the corner.

  At that moment, we lock eyes yet remain silent.

  My eyes helplessly drink in all the features I’ve missed.

  That I swore I’d never see again.

  That I tried to convince myself I could live without.

  But I can’t…

  I need his extra-large, extra tall frame wrapped around mine. His strong, cut face smiling for me. His presence to radiate an unwavering sense of protection whether it’s in dress shorts or a suit like this one.

  “That was self-defense,” he quietly claims. “You were being threatened. You were in a threatening situation.”

  His legal based statement has me nodding in agreement.

  He’s not lying.

  It was a threatening situation…

  One I could’ve probably solved with a kick to the testicles, but no need to add that.

  Pax’s voice is filled with despair. “Can I come in?”

  I’m unable to stop myself from nodding.

  With a gentle push of the door open, I allow space for him to stroll inside. However, what should be a walk is an immediate dart that forces my head to snap the direction he’s charging. Seeing Hattie’s body collapse on the hardwood floor ignites the exact same reaction.

  “Hattie!” My body lands beside her, and I gently pat her cheek demanding she wake up. “Hattie! Come on, princess. Wake up for Mom! Wake up for Mom!”

  When there’s no response I use my shaky fingers to dial 911. I do my best to answer and explain questions, yet the way my voice trembles make me impossible to understand. Pax plucks the device from my fingers and calmly describes the situation.

  I start to move her when he quickly reprimands, stating the importance on not moving her in case she starts to seize.

  But
she’s not.

  There’s no movement other than the shallow rise and fall of her small chest.

  “Come on, Hattie,” I desperately whisper, caressing her cheek. “You can hear me, Princess. Wake up. I need you to wake up. I need you to open those pretty eyes for me, okay?”

  She remains still.

  Tears begin to blur my vision, but I hold my begging steady. “Please…Please wake up for me. For us.”

  All of sudden, there’s a tiny groan out of Hattie followed by a meek, “Mom?”

  “Oh my god,” I croak and scoop her to me, cradling her harder than ever. “Oh my god!”

  Pax expresses she is awake now, and that we’ll be rushing her to the hospital. There’s no need for discussion or debate on the next actions. We load up in Pax’s Rover with me and Hattie in the back seat and take off to the nearest hospital. He does everything in his power to weave around the pre-holiday traffic while insuring he doesn’t put us in further danger.

  “Mom,” Hattie calls out again, her head attempting to lift off my lap.

  Gently stroking her back, I reassure her, “I’m here, princess. I’m here. We’re going to the hospital to get you something to make you feel better, okay? Just lay still for me, but keep those eyes open.”

  “It’s hard…”

  “I know, baby. I know.”

  “Dad?”

  “Driving, Hattie Pattie. I’m driving,” he softly retorts, and I swear I can almost feel her smile against my leg.

  He is her father. How the hell could I ever take him away from her? Is this my fault? Is not eating her way of protesting the choice I made? Did I somehow manage to put her life at risk by trying to do what I thought would protect her?

  In a strange yet impressive maneuver, he reaches into the backseat to hand her something important. “Barry is super worried, so I brought him with us.”

  Her weak grip tries to squeeze him.

  “Hope he protected my girls when I couldn’t.”

  “He…tried…”

  “Guess I’ve still got a lot to teach him.”

  She tries to laugh and the sound, a sound I haven’t heard her make since I kicked him out, sends more tears to my eyes.

  With the hospital now in our sights, I swipe them away and swallow the remainder knowing now is the time to be strong. First, we’ll get her medically cared for, and then we’ll do everything in our power to prevent Jesse from ever coming near her again.

  He may have taken a portion of my life from me, but he will never take Hattie’s.

  I’ll kill him myself to guarantee that.

  Hopefully, I won’t have to.

  Chapter 16

  Thanksgiving. The bullshit American holiday we have set aside for giving thanks.

  For being grateful for the people in our lives.

  After Julez was sent to Italy, I didn’t see the point in celebrating it with my parents. They spent so much time arguing and blaming one another prior to the official separation that it was easy to distance myself from them. It became just another day to get drunk with my bros, watch football, and relish in the fact we were family.

  I wanted that to be enough.

  I convinced myself that it was.

  But now that I have another family…one with a daughter whose life I feared for and a woman I consider my wife regardless of a ring on her finger, I know those times were just a way I coped with the void left behind from where my foundation for family once stood strong. Those days while definitely enjoyable weren’t filled with true gratitude.

  They weren’t used to appreciate our bond or the life we had built together at The Row.

  They weren’t used to reflect or remember that at any point we could be snatched away from one another like Julez had been from me.

  Like Hattie almost was…

  Hattie contently nuzzles Barry and curls against the pillow I slipped in my place.

  Thankfully, she didn’t have to spend the entire night at the hospital. They got her in, got her blood sugar levels up, and monitored them for a few hours. Once she was officially stable, the doctor explained the severity of the situation. Hearing him describe the hell she could face mentally and physically if the diet is not followed properly as instructed and the doctor’s visits are not continued consistently shook something inside of me I didn’t know could be shook. While Ryann snuggled with an exhausted Hattie, I stepped outside to begin the process of preventing Jesse from endangering my child again. I texted Holden a coded message to update him on the severe need for something or some things on record to keep Jesse from the possibility of having her in his care. I called a law enforcement acquaintance about filing a temporary restraining order for me and the girls, knowing when Jesse sobered up and remembered why he had bruises on his neck that it would be his next step. I then called Bart to inform him that Ryann would be using that attorney as soon as possible even if I had to foot the bill behind her back, and made Lucille, her mother, aware of what was happening with her granddaughter. She demanded to come up to the hospital, to speak to her daughter, to see her granddaughter, but ended up listening to my advice on waiting until we were back home to do so. The end of that conversation sparked the thought to invite them over for Thanksgiving, as well as my own parents. Lucille seemed excited at the suggestion of a larger gathering and Mamma loved the idea of having more people to cook for.

  Ryann and I tip toe out of our bedroom, shutting the door quietly with us on the other side. Hand in hand we stroll through the eerily quiet house to the kitchen bar where I abandon her to make us some coffee.

  Neither of us speaks for what seems like an eternity.

  We barely spoke at the hospital.

  All of our attention, all of our energy went to Hattie and making sure she was alright. On the way home, I mentioned the conversation I had with our parents, and she seemed too tired or too distraught to argue.

  The memory has me quietly scraping to reassure, “I wasn’t trying to control your life, Ry.”

  Her bleary eyes peer up at me.

  “Not before. Not now. Inviting our parents here for Thanksgiving wasn’t a power play or some start to a long manipulation process. I didn’t think you’d want Hattie traveling, and I knew they’d wanna see her. I know they’re worried.” Pausing directly across from her, I add, “Everyone’s worried about her. Your parents. Mine. My bros. Eden who sent me some very angrily worded text messages that have me wondering if The Godfather is her favorite movie or if she just thinks all Italians should behave like that.”

  Ryann’s face cracks a smile.

  “I also know I shouldn’t have just shown up-”

  “I’m glad you did,” she argues. “I’m glad you didn’t let me push you too far away. I’m glad you were here when…when…” The tear stricken words get caught in her throat. “We needed you.”

  My body rushes to rescue hers. I wind my arms around her fragile frame that begins to shake from the magnitude of the sobbing. “I’ll be here, Buttercup. Ti amo tanto. I’d never let anything happen to you or Hattie. I don’t care what the cost is. None is too high for the two of you.”

  “I love you, too,” she says between unsteady breaths. “I’m sorry I kicked you out. This is all my fault. I’m a terrible person. I’m a terrible mother-”

  “Hey.” I pull back to capture her chin between my thumb and index finger. “You are not a terrible person, and you damn sure aren’t a terrible mother. Your only concern is Hattie. It’s obvious. You thought you were doing what was right.”

  “And it was clearly wrong.”

  “That’s a hazard of parenting.”

  She brushes away her tears.

  “You don’t have to do any of this shit alone, Ryann. Wrap your mind around that and let us…let me help the two of you.”

  There’s no hesitation in her nodding or in the relief it provides.

  The coffee maker squeals, but I ignore it to crush our lips together. Ryann melts into the kiss, and everything else on my mind vanishes. Our
tongues lightly brush, both afraid of providing too much too fast. The mutual vacillation only lasts a moment longer before she shatters it by dragging her fingertips down to the waist band of my workout shorts. A heavy groan is ripped from my chest when they slide inside and grab my cock. My mouth fumbles from hers eager to claim we can wait to physically make up later and desperate to demand we have to start now. Ryann ends the contemplation for me by spreading her sleep shorts covered legs wide, granting me permission to remove them. Swiftly, I slide them off and slip inside, barely able to stifle my groan of gratitude for the wet, warm welcome home.