Chapter Ten
“Your worst enemy will often become your best friend when both of you are in need of the same thing—sadly, the cease fire rarely lasts, and what often follows is worse than what you accomplished—acknowledgement that maybe the other person isn’t as bad as you’ve perceived, making you question if you’re the villain instead.” —King Campisi
Bella
I’d seen love all around me and I was still convinced it didn’t exist, and yet exhibit A, a poop covered child and one of the scariest mob bosses known to mankind, mainly because his dad was Phoenix, wiping down a child with a towel, then plopping him in the sink real quick, smiling and laughing, only to get a pull up on him, and hand him off to me just as my sister walked in looking like a stripper—not a cheap one either.
She was clearly ready for date night.
And so was Junior.
He handed off Bam-Bam to me, then made a beeline for her throat with his tongue, waved us off, fumbled with his keys from the counter while she managed to grab her purse and not break a heel, and then they were gone.
No goodbyes.
No instructions.
Gone.
And I was holding a clean toddler who stared at me like he was going to break me and enjoy every second of it.
The door slammed shut.
Ivan cursed and moved slowly toward me. “You think that… um, they’re going to make it past the driveway acting like that—well, at least their lust hasn’t worn off, probably because they’re up all hours of the night with Satan.” He walked over and tapped Bam-Bam’s nose. “Hi little guy.”
“Don’t call him Satan!”
Ivan smirked. “I was talking about you, not the baby. He’s perfect.”
I rolled my eyes. “Then you take him while I make sure there isn’t poop anywhere else.”
“Suuuurre I can inspect poop, can’t I little dude? Plus, it’s only him it’s not like Ash and Annie came by to drop off—”
“Ash what?” Ash stormed into the house with his one-year-old, a giant diaper bag, a grin, and so many things left unsaid. His hair was tied into a knot on his head, he was wearing a black suit jacket, jeans, and smelled too good to be just stopping by. “Heard Serena was betraying me by going out on a date night so I figured I’d join in, plus now you guys match, each can take a kid, it’s perfect. I like clean math, don’t you like clean math… Ivan?”
He said this as he handed over the cutest baby ever, that still wore diapers, puked often just because he was learning violence at a young age, and often sneezed out any sort of substance that went into his mouth.
Ivan handed me Bam-Bam so fast my head spun.
Please, and he said he didn’t have favorites.
I took Bam-Bam, and he pulled my hair, not the sort of hair pulling I had in mind for date night. I untangled his grubby hands. He was already testing me while Ivan, for the first time in days, looked down at the little one and smiled. “We’ll have a good time.”
“Keep them alive.” Ash slapped Ivan on the back. “We’ll grab him around ten, as far as Bam-Bam…” His voice trailed off.
He stared, and Bam-Bam straight-up tilted his head and said, “Thank you.”
For no reason.
Only it sounded like “Fuck you” every time.
We were always confused if he just couldn’t say his T’s or if he truly meant what he said.
Some days, I think he honestly knew the words and meant them.
I shuddered and held him closer while Ash cleared his throat and murmured, “Welcome, little dude, and on that note.”
He stalked out of the house.
“Walt.” Ivan’s tone said it all, like he had already given up now that we were babysitting both kids. “He even looks like a Walt, what the hell kind of Italian name is Walt? Do they really want him to grow up to be an accountant? It’s like they spoke nerd over him!” He paused and caught his breath, then used one finger to point at the poor infant and whispered like Walt knew words already. “Walt is not a killer’s name.”
Walt looked up at him and giggled, he had a full head of jet-black hair and the prettiest blue eyes, one small dimple on his right cheek and lashes that I would kill for. Ivan was right, the guy looked like he wanted to dance in a field of daisies and burst out into song, then knit a sweater just in case someone caught a chill.
Whatever. I wouldn’t admit Ivan was right, I think that was part of the rules the Family built for us, don’t give in, even if you’re wrong, it just starts arguments.
I set Bam-Bam down. “Yes, because that’s what you should think when you birth new life into the world… might name him Damon, kind of sounds like Demon, he could kill people.”
Ivan held Walt against his chest and pulled down his little burp rag. “It’s like being excited that your kid will one day become a sociopath rather than go to college and shed a tear over it.”
“Yes.” Bam-Bam chose that moment to give me a thumbs up, then run into the wall before falling down, then jumping up and sprinting into the living room. “My thoughts exactly, do you ever just like look at Bam-Bam and think, yeah, he’s going to be a drug lord? Because I often think that may be his journey.”
Ivan looked around the corner while Bam-Bam stacked his different snacks in a row as if he was getting ready to sell them to the highest bidder. “Guaranteed, if I handed him a chocolate bar that little shit would still only hand over one bag of fruit snacks. A chocolate bar should at least equal three packs.”
“NO!” Bam-Bam yelled.
“Shit, he heard me.”
“Shit, shit, shit!” Bam-Bam laughed. “Shit, I shit, you shit—”
“—we all shit,” Ivan grumbled. “For the record, I’m telling them that you taught him that word.”
“He says worse.” I shrugged. “All right, let’s get them fed and then put on a movie that will more than likely make both of us want to inflict violence on each other.”
Ivan sighed and held Walt close to his chest, then put him over his shoulder and started rubbing his back. “Yeah, yeah, I say we order pizza and then feed this little dude some yogurt.”
“GURT!” Walt yelled. “GURT!”
The amount of energy it took to even walk over to the fridge was not a good sign for the rest of the night, especially since it wasn’t even that late yet. “What’s their bedtime again?”
“Now,” Ivan groaned. “I think in like two hours.”
“Two hours of hell, awesome.”
“Well, you live with me, I’m pretty sure you can handle two kids.”
I slow clapped. “Wow, you finally compared yourself to a toddler and a baby, I’m so proud that you’re seeing what we’ve known all along. You’re a child.”
“A child, hmm?” Ivan set Walt in his highchair and clicked him in, then sauntered over to me.
Why? Why was he sauntering?
Why was he staring at my mouth, and why did I feel the need to grab a spoon or fork or towel—anything to put distance between us. “A child?”
“You said that already. I’ll kick you in the balls if you touch me, Ivan, seriously.” I tried to move out of the way, but he had me cornered, literally between the fridge and the counter.
Walt was no help at all; he was playing with his hands.
And Bam-Bam was selling fruit snacks to Barbie.
I was all alone with the devil staring me down. It would be so much easier if he wasn’t truly one of the most attractive guys I’d ever seen in real life—it would be easier if he wasn’t aware how good-looking he was on a regular basis.
When did his white t-shirt suddenly get so tight on his arms? And why were his biceps staring at me like that? Was he flexing? I backed up until my ass was pressed against the counter and gulped. “I’ll grab a knife.”
“Kinky.” He grinned and had the audacity to scrunch up his nose while biting down on his lower lip, sucking it in with that demon-like mouth. Both of his hands moved to either side of my body as he leaned in. “A child? Really?”
“Back off, Ivan.” In my head it sounded like a threat, but it came out all wrong, breathless, stupid. God, I hated him. “Seriously.” Even my seriously sounded weak.
“Mmm…” He tilted his head and leaned in, his lips touched my right ear while his left hand found my neck.
I didn’t shiver.
I mean, I did, but the AC was on, and it was cold in the kitchen.
His thumb rubbed down my neck, testing my pulse. “Do you want me to prove to you that I’m not a child, might make you into a woman finally, someone sure needs to do God’s work and pluck that sad little virginal flower.”
Hot tears burned the back of my eyes. “Ivan, don’t.”
I could play his games most days, but whenever he went there, I either got pissed or just hurt all over again. What girl would want a sexy guy like him taunting her, knowing that he’s doing it on purpose, knowing that he has the power, knowing that he’s somehow taking it from her by making her feel less than for not being a whore?
His mouth touched beneath my ear, just slightly, a faint breath followed. I wanted to push him away, but my hands were still at my sides.
I wanted to strangle him. Kick him.
Maim him?
“Just like I thought… almost… frigid to the touch.” He pulled back, still towering over me. “What? No words?”
I clenched my right hand into a fist and slammed it right into his windpipe. “None, and now you don’t have any either.”
He gasped for air and collapsed against the floor. “How about that yogurt, Walt?”