His pants had to be tailored to fall just so on his legs—and around what was unmistakably a gift to the women he entertained. His socks matched. Not only each other, but his shoes and pants.
He was the utter personification of tall, dark and handsome, in one neat package of fine, fine male.
The man annoyed the living piss out of me.
He was a complete shark. In everything. Even sitting here, he thought that there was some kind of negotiation that could happen with the lives of two young children.
“I was named as James’ guardian,” he said, his voice even and steady. “He’s my charge.”
I leaned forward, my ribs screaming against the pain, but I kept my reaction off my face. “No one has argued that, Mister Hathorne. However, the judge—”
“The judge doesn’t seem to understand—”
“The judge—” I barked right over him and shut him up, “has said that the boys should not be split up, and should remain together if that is possible. And, Mister Hathorne, you have the means to keep them together.”
“I was only tasked with James.”
“I don’t care, and you need to listen to me.” I stared at him until he sat back in the chair. “Now. The judge has said the boys are to remain together. They consider each other brothers, and the petition for James’s mother to adopt Dre—”
“Andre.”
“Dre was on her desk. If you cannot keep the two of them together, then we will find a home where they will be kept together.”
“But I was the named the legal guardian.”
“And Judge Mulvaney doesn’t give a shit.” I smiled at him. “There’s no negotiation here, Mister Hathorne. You either take both or you take neither.”
“I can’t take care of two children.”
“One, bullshit. The judge had your records pulled, and you are more than monetarily able to provide for both of them. Two, you’re not going to be taking care of them. I saw your childcare plans when I spoke with Mulvaney. You plan on nannies and boarding school. That’s not taking care, that’s foisting off.”
“He is my responsibility—”
I held up my hand. “Sir. Stop. I can see that you’re not picking up what I’m putting down.” Dre let out a hard laugh, then slapped a hand over his mouth. “These boys have had each other for a while. They’re bonded like any good brothers would. Dre clearly loves James, and wants to be there for him. James is used to Dre, and now that he doesn’t have a mother or father, he could use as many strong figures in his life as possible.”
Dre sat up a little straighter in his chair behind James. He was a good kid, he wanted to be a good kid, and he wanted to be in his brother’s life.
“I’m still not sure where you’re going with this.”
“Take the two of them, Alistair. Let them be brothers. Get the nanny if you want, but take the two of them. Dre will look out for James. The nanny can take care of bath time and food. She can be Dre’s chance to be a teenager, and the interference you want without having to actually parent children.”
He stared at me, and cocked his head. I could see his wheels turning, considering my offer. A moment later he turned to Dre.
“Young man, if I do this there will be expectations.”
Dre wasn’t intimidated. “Like?”
“Good grades, good hygiene, good manners, good cleaning habits.”
“I’m a straight A student, and assistant captain of the varsity baseball team,” Dre said. “I plan on going to college, getting a degree, and becoming a physical therapist specializing in sports injuries. I can’t slack if I want to be the best and get hired by the Phillies.”
Damn. Kid was impressing me.
Smirking, Dre pulled on the string of his hoodie. “You thought I was more street than that? Just because? Was it the clothes? The hair? The way I talk?”
“I assume everyone is less than they seem.”
“Wow, Alistair,” I said, leaning back. “You are an asshole. I heard stories, but thank you for proving that.”
Dre leaned forward and touched the back of Alistair’s hand. “Sir. I love my little brother. He’s everything to me, and now he’s the only thing I have. I have plans, big plans, and I want them to work. I want James to see what he can be if he wants to. We may get in your way, and we might fight. I mean, I’m sixteen, for shit’s sake. But giving us a place to sleep and food to eat is all we really need.”
Alistair hauled in a breath, and let it out. No wonder this guy was a defense attorney. He had zero expression on his face.
A long moment later he turned back to me. “I owe Vivian at least the care of her son. If Andre is part of that deal, then so be it. They can stay with me.” He glanced back at Dre. “We’ll set some ground rules this weekend, after I consider what I want to address.”
“Thank you.” Dre’s voice was utterly sincere.
“Thank you, Mister Hathorne. We’ll have a few meetings in the future about their progress and placement, but they are formalities.” I flipped the folder closed. “Would you give me a moment with the boys, please?”
He nodded, stood, pulled his suit straight, and headed out the door. As soon as the door closed, Dre slumped in the chair.
“Oh, my God, Mrs. Domingues. Thank you. I don’t know what I would have done if he took James and not me.”
“Something foolish.” I laughed. “You’re basically going to be your brother’s parent, you know that, Dre. Mister Hathorne doesn’t do paternal, or approachable.”
“Yeah, I got that.” His laugh was dry. “But I have James and a roof over our heads, and that’s what matters. He may not be paternal, but he’s also, clearly, not interested in hitting us or punishing us in ways that we don’t really deserve.” He picked a fingernail. “I’ve heard the stories from kids at school who get punched and kicked and starved in their foster homes. I don’t mind someone who’s cold as long as he doesn’t abuse us.”
The word shot through me, and pinged against one of my still healing ribs. I didn’t react to it though. I just ignored it. I had to get through the day.
“I understand that, and I think that while he’s a cold fish, you’ll be safe there. Let me know if anything at all goes wrong?”
“Of course.” Standing, Dre reached down for his brother. “Come on, man. We got a roof and food and it’s time to go home and see if we can do this.”
“Foods?” James asked, grabbing his brother’s hand. “I’m hungy. Sammich?”
“Peanut butter?”
“Wif honeys?”
“You got it,” Dre said, the smile spreading across his face. “Come on.”
Pulling the door open, he walked James out of the office and into the hall where Alistair was waiting. He nodded them down the hall, and the door closed.
I wrapped my arms around my middle, and let out the groan I’d held back earlier. Busted ribs were shit. I hated them. They made it hard to walk, talk, even think sometimes.
After the real pain had passed again, I stood. I could sleep later and let them heal more. I had things that had to get done.
Locking up the office, I shut the lights, and headed for the parking garage. Finally, weeks after the incident, the news had stopped following me around and asking me for more information on what was going on.
We’d never know why Ira Higgins had lost his goddamn mind and shot up a school of babies. He was dead now, and so were his ex and his baby mama. I was glad he was gone, but I could also understand how all those parents would never get justice for their children.
My heart hurt.
I walked up to the now-empty daycare. There were just a few news trucks around, but after two weeks, the media had moved on.
The assistant medical examiner, Reid, was inside walking around, taking photos and notes. I had just a few more notes to take myself before the building would be razed.
“The end of this, Doctor Sadowski?” I asked.
He glanced up at me and, to my shock, had tears in his eyes. “The
end of this, yes. But those families… Shit. I don’t even know how to process that.”
“I can’t imagine,” I mumbled. “Losing a child like that?”
“I wish I could give them back.” He sniffled.
Nodding I moved around him to take my notes. I wanted to make sure that no one had any questions, and I knew exactly what had happened in here.
Reid and I walked around each other in an eerie silence, the occasional click of his camera the only real sound as the sun headed for the horizon.
“Are they going to clean this?” I asked, after a while.
“No.” He shook his head. “They are just going to tear it down.”
“That seems so wrong. Like, children were killed here. Couldn’t they at least clean it up?”
“It’s a practical matter. No need to waste resources.”
“Feels wrong.”
“Totally agree.” He scratched on his notepad.
The silence settled again.
My mouth ran off without me. “Have you ever been married, Reid?”
“Not in this life,” he mumbled, then jerked around to look at me. “No. Not yet. Why?”
“Just…” I stared at my notebook. My mouth did it again. “I’m pregnant and my husband doesn’t want children. I guess I was hoping for a married man’s input.”
“Do you want children, Paige?” He held my gaze with his own.
“Yes.” I didn’t hesitate. “I always have.”
“Didn’t you talk about this before you got married?”
“I brought it up. He said no kids.”
Reid’s forehead wrinkled in disapproval. “And you didn’t leave?”
“He loves me.”
Tipping his head forward, the look on Reid’s face said a lot. “He can love you all he likes, but if you have completely different goals, it will never work. Marrying someone who wants four kids when you want two, that’s negotiable. But one versus none—you can’t break that stalemate. There’s a canyon between one and none.”
Go ahead mouth, just do what you want at this point. “I thought I could convince him of just one kid. Just one. That would be all the family I really needed in my life. I love my foster kids, and do my best by them every day. But I wanted one of my own. One that didn’t come with any baggage.”
“Sounds to me like you should have run, Paige,” he said.
“Love is so hard to come by though…”
“Were you looking in the right places?” His eyebrow went up.
“We met in a bar,” I answered.
“Were you looking for the right thing?”
“For…” I blinked at him a few times. “The right thing?”
“Were you looking for someone to love you, or someone to just fuck you? Were you looking for someone who doubles as your best friend, or were you looking for someone who just wanted a woman around the house?”
“He cares for me. Lets me do all my foster work. He doesn’t ask much of me, just what usually happens in a marriage. Cleaning, food, sex…”
Reid shook his head. “I’m totally unconvinced that this man loves you in anyway. And that’s the thirty second impression, Paige. Lets you do things? Normal things in marriage? Your eyes don’t light up when you talk about him. Not like they do when you’re working with the kids.”
Pausing, he cocked his head again and studied me. “How hard have you tried to convince him to have kids?”
I stuttered, then spilled the truth. “I’ve had three abortions. This would be four.”
I didn’t know a jaw could actually fall open like that. He corrected himself quickly, and tossed the clipboard on the desk next to me. He grabbed my hands. “Did you go for them, or did he make you?”
“They were his choice,” I whispered. “After the last one, I couldn’t do it anymore. I used so many different birth control methods I was sure I was going to throw a clot—and it didn’t work. At all. I’m almost at the second trimester. I had no idea…”
Tears I didn’t know I had in me started pouring out. I sobbed and shook, and couldn’t catch my breath.
It was so true. I couldn’t do this again. I couldn’t. “I want this baby so much. I want to be someone’s mother. I know it’s wrong, it’s not healthy, but for just a little while I want someone in my life who loves and trusts me unconditionally. Just to know what it feels like…”
He pulled me into a hug. “Oh, honey.”
I gasped at the crush of his arms around me, prodding my still sore ribs.
“What was that?” Reid held me at arms’ length again.
“N-nothing,” I managed to squeak out.
“What’s wrong with your sides?” He pressed on my rib cage before I could pull away. “What happened?”
“They’re bruised. I fell the other day.”
“You’re a liar, and a bad one at that, Paige.” He ran his fingers over the bruise I managed to mostly conceal with heavy makeup. He traced it up, under the hair I had brushed over the stitches and saw those at the edge of my hairline. “What is all this?”
“I fell.”
“You’re lying.”
A ridiculous, ill-timed laugh bubbled out of me. “Of course, I’m lying! I’ve been lying for years, just to keep some kind of hold on my sanity.” I stepped back. “I don’t know what love really is. Not one single clue. I was a paycheck to all twenty-three of the foster homes I was in. That’s it. I wasn’t someone they cared about! I lie because I need to survive.”
“He does hit you, doesn’t he?”
His question was painfully straightforward, and I didn’t have a clue how to lie about it.
“Yes.”
“Is there nowhere you can go?”
“Even if I had somewhere, which I do not, he’d hunt me down, drag me back. I’m not strong enough to leave.”
“You are, though. You have to be. If you want this baby, you’re going to have to take your shit and get out before their born. Because once they’re born, it becomes a whole new ballgame.”
“Where am I going to go?” The laugh was back. “There’s nowhere for me to go. A battered women’s shelter? He’ll find me.”
“A friend?” He looked hopeful, but I crushed that with a shake of my head. “Family?”
Another shake of my head. “If I had family…”
He considered me, again. “If I can find a safe place for you to stay, would you leave?”
“Leave…everything I have?”
Reid shook his head. “What do you really have there, though? Someone who orders you around like you’re not even worth the time? Someone who controls you so well you’ve fulfill his request three times to end your pregnancy when you wanted them? Things can be replaced, stuff is just stuff. You cannot be replaced, Paige. That’s what I’m trying to protect right now.”
“I’m not worth—”
He covered my mouth with his hand. “If you say you’re not worth anything, I will kick your ass from here to Timbuktu. You are worth everything, and you need to believe me when I say that if you can’t really believe it yet yourself.”
Stepping back, he released me. “But you’re not ready to leave yet, are you? You still need to try one more time to see if you can get him to care. Or respond. Or even be indifferent to you.”
“Alain is all I’ve ever had.”
He put his hand softly on my flat stomach, that wouldn’t be flat much longer. “He isn’t. Not right now.”
Reid hung his head a moment. “I will make you a deal. Think on what we’ve said here. Just think on it. If you ever want to get out of this shit situation, you call me, and we will get you out. But soon. Babies make it harder.”
I swallowed.
A life without Alain?
Terrifying and exhilarating—but I didn’t know how much of each.
Fischer
The three kids were pumping their legs like mad, trying to get as high as Ellie was on the swing. She was cackling like a mad woman and I thought that maybe, just maybe, she’d
achieve everyone’s goal on the swings.
Get over the cross-support bar.
Physics didn’t allow it, but we all tried anyway.
Tim and Bits—she’d really liked that nickname way more than Tabi—were doing pretty good. They were about half her height.
Ben was struggling. He hadn’t had enough time to really build his overall body strength.
Walking over, I grabbed his seat on the backswing.
“Hang on, man.” I grinned. I lifted him back, over my head and then jumped and pushed to give him as much momentum as I could.
Three-quarters of Ellie’s height, and the biggest laugh I’d heard out of him yet.
I latched on as he came back again, and did the jump-push once more. He flew forward and was almost nearly parallel to his sister.
“Not fair!” Tim screamed.
Lincoln appeared next to me, behind Tim and Bastian appeared behind Bits. Linc’s grin split his face. “Race yah?”
“Hell yeah.” I laughed, and grabbed Ben’s swing again. The three of us backed up, and I could hear Wren laughing at the picnic table. “Ready, set, Go!”
Whipping Ben down and forward, we jumped and pushed and grabbed and shoved the kids’ swings as hard and as fast as we could. The three of them were screaming in delight, yelling at us to get them to swing over the bar.
Ellie was losing height, she was laughing so hard. So, on her next swing up, she dismounted. “I’m judging this contest! Highest one gets me to clean their room next weekend!”
Ooh, a chore prize!
“Hell, I’m getting on that swing,” Bastian called.
Ellie looked him dead in the eye. “Hell no. Hell no. I don’t want anything to do with your room.” She stared at Lincoln and me as well, and repeated herself. “No. Thing. Nuthin’. Zero. Zilch. Nada. Negatory. You’re not in on this contest. Capise?”
That was the danger of a sexually awakened sixteen year old. She knew what went on in those rooms, and she was grossed out by the idea of her parents doing anything other than holding hands. We avoided being open around the kids, but Ellie was a strange middle ground sometimes.
“Ellie! Who’s winning?” Tim screamed.
Fall Page 12
