One day old and already thrown into the goddamn inferno of chaos that is my life. Used. For money. For revenge. To hurt us. Take the purest thing in my life and use it to hurt me.
Not fucking cool. That’s sleazy. Unacceptable.
Fuck. You. Eddie.
I turn back south. My feet move again. Arms pump. My leave from reality only temporary.
I sure hope that cool half a million he just pocketed was worth it. When I get done with him, he’ll realize that damn photo cost him so much more.
Now I have to face Rylee. Tell her the man who took our moment, our piece of peace, has stolen from us again. Took the control to introduce our son to the world in our own way. Made Ace a pawn in this fucked-up game of his.
Fuck. You. Eddie.
Rylee’s face fills my mind: eyes wide with panic, voice wavering, paranoia over the windows consuming her. And now I have to go add a little more crazy to her chaos.
On top of everything else I’ve already heaped there.
Too much. Just too goddamn much. Open ends. Unexpected surprises. Forced hands. Uncontrollable situations. The never-ending unknown.
Fuck. You. Eddie.
CJ’s words were gasoline added to a wildfire already out of control. What had his answer been when I asked him how that little fucker keeps getting the upper hand in this goddamn game of payback? The only power Eddie has over you is the reaction you give him. My response? A curt Fuck you.
He holds no power over me. None. I’ll let him think he does, but his hand’s been dealt. Cards are on the table. He may have the wild card.
But I’m carrying all the aces.
“SHH! DON’T BE SO LOUD. You’re going to scare him,” Aiden shouts in a whispered voice to the rest of the boys gathered around him. Or more like gathered around Ace.
Seven heads—blond, brown, and one red—form a phalanx of overeager boys all vying to watch him sleep in Shane’s arms. All but one.
Zander sits on the couch, just outside of the circle and watches from afar. A slight smile is on his face but there is a distance in his eyes I recognize and detest. I watch him observe but make no move to get closer. And instinct tells me he’s doing what he knows, putting up a wall around him, distancing himself from his brothers, so if he’s fostered out, the blow won’t be as hard to take.
Defense mechanism 101.
Why do I suddenly feel the need to take this course?
I look up from watching Zander to find Shane’s eyes above the heads of the other boys. Our gazes hold and I can’t read the look in his. He’s getting so old now, graduating from college next semester, and has gotten so much better at guarding the emotions in his eyes. I can’t read what they say, and it’s not like this is the time or place to ask him what he’s not telling me.
An elbow is traded between Auggie and Scooter. The interaction surprises me, and even though my reprimand is automatic, a small part of me smiles at this small step in Auggie’s marathon journey to fitting in. And then the other part of me is saddened I haven’t been there to know of this progress.
“Easy, boys,” Colton warns from where he’s talking to Jax in the kitchen when elbows bump again.
Questions ring out left and right. Does he sleep all the time? Is it my turn to hold him yet? Are his diapers nasty? Is it my turn to hold him yet? Does he really come out of your belly button? Is it my turn to hold him yet? Is it true he eats milk from your boobies?
That one earns some snickers and a few pairs of blushed cheeks.
“Zander, you want to come sit next to me?” I ask, needing to draw him out of his shell some.
“Okay,” he mumbles as he rises from the couch and shuffles over. He sits next to me, and I put my arm around him and pull him in close. Needing and trying to offer some comfort, and pull some from him even in his silence.
“I missed you,” I murmur as I press a kiss to the top of his head that I’m sure embarrasses him, but I don’t care. Affection is something that never goes to waste no matter how much the other person thinks they don’t need or want it.
“Me too,” he says. I rest my cheek on the top of his head and just hold him there as the boys continue to stare at Ace, mesmerized by how little he is.
And a part of me is slightly surprised I’m not as freaked out as I imagined I would be watching all of these typically not-so-gentle boys crowding around him. But I shouldn’t be; these are my boys—my family—and I trust them because I know they’d never hurt something so dear to me.
Then again, I’m so exhausted I think the only thing that pulls me wide-awake instantly is the sound of Ace’s cry. Other than that I feel like I’m walking through a fog.
I’m talking to Zander, asking about school and simple things, trying to draw him out of his shell, when out of the blue a flash goes off.
Something in me snaps and takes over me.
“No!” I shout, flying off the couch as fast as my sore body can go. Heads turn to look at me as shock silences the room. “No pictures!” My voice is shaky but firm. My heart races and fingers tremble, as anxiety owns my body. I’m on panic-riddled autopilot as I jerk Connor’s phone from his hand and delete the picture he took of Ace immediately.
I see the shock in his eyes, the lax jaw, the shake of his head, and yet all I can think of is Ace. All I can feel is the rage I’ve kept in check after losing my shit yesterday when Colton told me about Eddie’s ultimate invasion of our privacy. How it’s eaten at me bit by bit. Made me feel like our life is spinning out of control and will never get our bubble back.
I need our bubble back. Desperately.
I’m standing in the middle of the family room, Connor’s phone grasped in one hand, and the boys looking at me, unsure what to do. My body begins to shiver as a hot flash of dizziness engulfs me. Sweat beads on my skin. My stomach turns. I look from boy to boy, unable to explain, and worried because I know I just scared them and yet I can’t help it.