by Ivy Fox
“I hope not, hon. For your sake. He’s a cop with a stellar reputation, nice house from those pictures you showed me, and a stable income. You, my darling girl, are a waitress who gets paid under the table, who suffered from a mental disorder, and are shacked up with three bikers who are always strapped to the nines. If he tries to get full custody of Angel, I don’t think any court would deny him.”
“Aurora, that’s enough,” Michael warns after seeing the fear leak from Hope’s eyes. I go straight to her and kiss each tear away.
“Sweetheart, whatever the battle, even if there is one on the horizon, we will overcome it together as a family. Do you hear me, baby?” Michael says, sitting on the other side of the bed and stroking her cheek. She nods meekly, and little Angel starts to cry something awful.
“Good. Now our boy here needs you to be strong for him, too, but most importantly, I think he needs you to feed him.” He smirks, and she shakes her head, letting out a small laugh. Michael holds little Angel in his arms so Hope can get herself ready to nurse him, and I see my VP melt. Yeah, the little guy is going to have us doing his bidding, just like his mama, in no time. Hope starts to unbutton her shirt and one huge, delicious breast pops out, looking like the best dessert I have ever seen.
“They got even bigger! How is that possible?” I ask in awe.
“It’s the milk, silly.” She laughs as she picks Angel up from Michael’s careful embrace, and places him closer to her breast. He latches on to her nipple straight away.
Smart kid.
“Okay, when he’s done, I’m next,” I say, raising my hand, calling shotgun.
“Yeah, I’m out. That’s just too weird, even for me,” Aurora quips, getting up from the bed.
“Bye, Aunt Aurora,” I tease waving her off.
“You are incorrigible,” Hope says, laughing.
“And cute as a button. We’ve had this conversation already, love. Now feed my kid so I can get some.”
Chapter 30
Hope
“You sure you don’t want to come with us?” Cam asks as he straps little Angel’s car seat in the back of the brand new SUV, which the guys got me as a present. “I’m sure Mabel would love to see you. George, too.”
“I know, but I’m so tired. I’d rather take a long bath in the tub, and a nap, if you guys don’t mind,” I tell him, hoping he hears my plea for an hour of me-time.
“Not at all, baby, you take care of you, and we’ll get out of your way. Take as much time as you need,” Michael says, giving me a departing kiss and getting into the driver’s seat.
“Need anything from town while we’re there?” Cam asks, coming in for a hug of his own.
“No, just come back with my boy and you two whole, and I’m good.”
“Always, love,” he replies and kisses me, with a bit more passion in it, making sure I ache for his speedy return. I watch the car pull away and then feel two strong hands around my waist.
“You really going to take a nap, or are you going to soak in the tub and read those smut books from Cam?”
I turn around in his arms and wrap mine around his magnificent, broad shoulders.
“I love how you know me so well.” I giggle.
“That’s what I thought,” he laughs. “I’ll be down under in the gym, working up a sweat of my own,” he says, tempting me in more ways than one. “You read a couple of chapters, and if you get too needy, you know where you can find me.” He winks.
“I might just do that,” I tease, knowing that I’m most certainly going to take him up on his offer. He leans down, giving his own tender kiss.
“See you in a bit, little bird. Don’t take too long,” he says, and I watch him adjust his pants.
I smile and run into the house, ready to fill the tub with water and bath salts, light some candles, put on some music, and just relax. I love my little bundle of joy—Angel has been the biggest blessing in my life. But to have an hour, or even thirty minutes out of the day just for myself, is pure heaven. I need to reboot and recharge my batteries, and these little breaks do just that.
Of course, having three other people in the house who share baby responsibilities also helps a great deal. When they say it takes a village to raise a child, they weren’t kidding. I don’t know what I would have done without my guys. They have been incredible. From changing diapers to midnight bottle feeding to anything under the sun, they have been there for me. Like this, I really won’t mind having a whole dozen little rug rats walking around the house. Just the idea of it makes me warm up from the inside. This house is already filled with so much love that it would be a sin not to add to it. Share it. I know the boys like the idea, but I also like the idea of adopting, too.
I think of Cam’s parents, and how they brought Michael and Gabe into their home when they had such misfortune dealt to them. They gave them a safe port, to grow into the wonderful human beings they are today. Then I think of when my men did the same thing for me. Found me on their doorstep and took me in, and made me a part of their family. Gave me love, kindness, and friendship. Yeah, I want to do that again. I know Angel is still young, a little over a month, but I’m sure his daddies won’t mind if we start giving him brothers and sisters, sooner rather than later.
I close the tap, feeling so good about how our lives are heading that it takes me a minute to register the sound of a car door being closed outside.
“Hmm, did the guys forget something?” I think out loud.
I swear I saw them put everything in the baby bag for the small trip to the diner. Actually, by my count, they put enough stuff in there that it looked like Angel was going for a small trip out of state for a week. But his daddies are like that, always thinking ahead and planning for the worst-case scenario.
I go to the kitchen and open the screen door, but when I do, I see it’s neither my guys nor my son out front, but the man who believes I’m his wife.
“Ben?”
“What are you doing here?” I ask, naturally perplexed at how he even knew where I lived.
How did he know where we lived?
“How did you find me?” I ask him, standing at the top of our porch as he strolls my way unhurriedly. This was the last person I expected to see at my doorstep.
“Can’t say it was easy, Jen.” He smirks, and his demeanor looks a bit odd to me. When I first met him at the hospital, I felt sorry for the low-key man, but today he doesn’t seem to hold that same frailty in his shoulders. He looks far too confident, almost arrogant in how he’s holding himself now, a far cry from the stodgy first impression he made a month ago.
“Went all over town and asked about you. Showed a bunch of people your photo, and no one seemed to know who you were. But then I ran into the most interesting man. Maybe you know him? Uri-something-or-other. He had a lot to say about you.” Ben looks around, and my spine starts to stiffen with his inspection of our surroundings. “Seems like you’re settling quite well in this place.”
“I told you as much back at the hospital. You didn’t have to come all the way here to learn that. I thought we agreed I would call you once I was ready,” I tell him, not hiding how annoyed I am with his unexpected visit, as well as this cocky new bravado he’s high on at the moment.
“It been a month, Jen,” he says matter-of-factly, making me feel somewhat guilty about how I had put him on the back burner all this time. I try to understand how frustrating this must be for him and put myself in his shoes, but his insistence on calling me Jen isn’t helping. I’m not this woman, and the sooner he grasps this, the better it will be for all of us.
“I know that, Ben. I’m still processing everything. Just needed a bit more time,” I proclaim, hoping he understands where I’m coming from.
“I think I’ve given you plenty of time,” he replies, taking a few more steps my way, getting closer to the porch.
I don’t know what it is, but I’m not entirely comfortable with the way he’s looking at me, or talking to me, for that matter. Again, back a
t the hospital, he looked so impassive and expressionless, like a white canvas that needs a bit of color to make sense of the person inside. I put it down to the fact that, not only was he seeing the image of his wife for the first time in months—the wife he suspected had died a gruesome death at the hands of her own foster brother, no less—but also at the realization that she was very much alive and well, and had given birth to a child who was his, of which he had no previous knowledge. Of course, his mind must have been a total blank. Too much information for any person to take in.
Cam hadn’t helped, either, by saying he was my boyfriend at the time. If Ben even knew he was only part of the actual trio who owned my heart, I fear he might have lost it right there and then. But this man, who is taking small steps toward me, like a panther scoping the layout of the land before attacking his prey, is not the same man who visited me at the hospital a month ago. That man was contained, dull, and a bit aloof at the time. This one looks cruel.
Every time I say something, his face changes into a sour expression, as if he tasted something bitter in his mouth. His scrutinizing glare makes me feel small somehow—as if I was unworthy of his presence, and him being here was entirely my fault, and consequences needed to be accounted for. I kick myself for leaving my phone inside the house, but I’m not going in to get it, either. He might take it as an invitation to come in with me, and right now my gut is telling me I shouldn’t let this stranger inside my happy home. Not when he looks to be unhinged.
“Where is he?”
“Who?” I ask, my own mind drawing a blank.
“Don’t act dumb, Jen. You never were before, so don’t act like it now.” He smirks, crossing his arms over his chest, which doesn’t look as puny as I thought it did last month. The tight blue long-sleeved shirt he’s wearing under his dark brown jacket showcases impressive pecs of his own. Not as impressive as my men, but I can now see a defined muscular body gained from an extensive workout regime. Most likely from being in the police force, and the physical work that comes with the job. His blatant patronizing comment, added yet again with a name I don’t identify with, irks me to no end.
“My name is not Jen,” I deadpan, crossing my own arms in front of my chest.
“Hmm. Right, I forgot. You lost your memory.” The sneering smile on his face when he says it sends chills running through my skin.
“Where is my son, Jen?”
“Not here, Ben, and as I told you, once I’m ready to discuss Angel with you, we will. However, it is not that time yet.” I lift my chin up at him so he can see how this is non-negotiable.
“Angel? Is that the name you gave my son? You stupid cunt,” he says, running his fingers through his hair, showing the first signs of exasperation, but I’m still reeling with the unprovoked insult he just made.
“I’m sorry? What did you just call me?” I ask, outraged.
What the hell is wrong with this man?
I get his frustration. I even get his anger, but I don’t see why we can’t be civil about this. Calling me such an ugly and defamatory name, especially for a woman, is not only unnecessary but, quite frankly, distasteful, which only makes me see him in a whole different light. I think I’ve mistaken his aloofness for blatant arrogance.
“Listen here, you stupid bitch, I want you to march your ass inside that house and get my son, or I’ll do it for you.” My jaw almost drops to the floor at how he is able to threaten me, insult me, using the same monotone voice he probably uses to order a coffee and a sandwich at his local deli.
Tired of his brand of intimidation, since I feel how my body is responding to it, I decide enough is enough, and he should be on his merry way.
“Ben, I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but I think you should go now,” I command.
“You think I should go?” he asks, taking another step forward while I take one back, away from him.
“Yes. I think you’re upset and not thinking clearly. I understand how these circumstances could be overwhelming, and that maybe you are having some sort of episode. I think you should go home. Cool down, and later, call so we can talk this over,” I hear myself say. Every bone in my body is screaming at me not to let this go and not be as forgiving as I’m trying to be with his lapse in judgment, but for Angel, I will do whatever I need to for him to have a well-balanced life. Even if it means I’ll have to deal with an asshole from time to time.
But then the most awful feeling of déjà vu happens. Ben begins to laugh. His whole head falls back, and his God-awful laugh makes me cringe in such a way, I have to keep myself from curling up into a ball with how terrified it makes me feel.
“No, no, no, Jen. This is what’s going to happen. You are going to get my son and give him to me now. I’m going to get him as far away from his skank of a mother as possible, and then you can call whoever the fuck you want to have your civilized conversations with.”
“I am not giving you my son, Ben!” I scream at him, face to face now, enraged with the mere suggestion of him taking my Angel away from me. And before I even have time to say another word, the mother of all slaps lands right across my cheek, making me stumble and fall to the ground. I don’t know what shocks me more—that Ben hit me, or that the sound of his hand connecting with my face seemed awfully familiar.
“Get the fuck up, bitch, and get my son,” he says ever so evenly, and then I feel a swift kick to my stomach, and I yelp at that, too. I try to scramble up, but Ben is too fast for me, and before I know it, he’s got his hands in my short hair, bringing my head all the way back to meet his shoulder, the seething pain is so real that tears of rage are leaking from my eyes.
“I won’t say this again, Jennifer. I will take my son with me today, one way or another. Get him now, or I swear to God, I’ll make you hurt so much, you’ll wish you really had died that day,” he whispers in my ear.
My eyes go wide at his words, and my instinct to break free from his hold is far too great to keep still. I won’t let him hurt me again. I need to get help, and although we are far from any civilization I can account for, as long as I can get to the hatch where Gabriel is, I know I’ll be safe. So taking advantage of his back to me and his unprotected gut, I swing my elbow into it as hard as I can muster, which must do the trick, since he lets go with a big cry like the fucking coward he truly is. I start to run, which isn’t easy since the son of a bitch had kicked me in my once-bruised ribs which had taken forever to heal, and were now crippling me from the inside. I’m almost halfway to the hatch when, suddenly, two hands grab me from behind, making me falter, and I fall to the icy ground, skinning my knees in the process.
“Aah!” I wail in pain.
“You should have learned your lesson by now, Jen. There is no running away from me. That little stunt is going to cost you, you fucking bitch,” he grunts in my ear, gripping my hair once again like it’s an extension of his fingers. And then he twists my head back and forth, hard enough to hit the ground and I feel my forehead slash wide open in the mother of all cuts, immediately bleeding into my eyes. I try to kick him off of me, but he just crashes my head once again into the ground, and this time I go lightheaded, unable to gain my bearings in time to stop him from doing it a third time. Which he must have done, because, in a split of a second, I’m surrounded by a familiar black existence, swallowing me whole, only this time, instead of it promising cold darkness, a life once lost makes its way back, reminding me that some nightmares aren’t dreams at all—some are just reminders of what to expect when you open your eyes.
Chapter 31
Hope
Nine months ago
There’s a knock on the motel room door, and I rush to it to see if it’s heaven or hell on the other side. Luckily for me, a familiar shadow is bouncing from side to side, either nervous or just plain cold from being kept out on the balcony for so long. I open the door and pull him in.
“Were you followed?”
“Shit Jen, you think I don’t know when I got a tail on me?”
&
nbsp; I raise my brow and place my hands on my waist until he gives me a straight answer.
“Nah, sis, I wasn’t followed,” Nico goads, looking around the shabby rent-an-hour motel room I’m hiding in. It does look like something out of one of those forensic crime television shows where bodies are found all chopped up in tubs and whatnot. But it was the only motel I could find that didn’t make a big deal about needing ID, took cash, and not a lot of it, and was far enough out of town to go unnoticed, crossing all the things off my priority list of needs, if not wants.
Did I want the neighbors next door not to be a hooker and her John getting it on and making a ruckus while doing it?
Yes, yes I did.
But was I willing to spend an extra fifty bucks or so for that silence in a nicer hotel, risking unnecessary exposure?
Nope. Not at all.
Money was a commodity I wouldn’t be spending lightly in the foreseeable future, and my anonymity was an even bigger concern. Nico looks like he’s considering whether he should sit on the bed in the middle of the room, or just stand, taking about ten seconds to make his decision, to then just lean on the wall instead.
Yeah, big brother. Not a fan of STDs, either.
But his approval of my current living arrangements is not why I called him over. I needed help, and in this miserable life I’d been dealt, there was only one person I could rely on, and that was him.
“Good. Did you get everything I asked for?”
“Yep, pawned all your jewelry like you asked, and got the car, too. It ain’t much, but it’s got GPS, so you’ll be able to know where you’re going at least. Do you know where you’re going, Jen?” Nico asks, his face marred with concern. I place my palm on his cheek, and he places his own over mine. His dark grey eyes hold a thunderstorm of worry for me.
“No, I don’t. Even if I did, I wouldn’t be able to tell you. You understand that, right, big brother?”
“Yeah, I get it. Feel like I should have seen this shitstorm go down earlier, that’s all.” I hear his reprimand.
