Saber's Surrender (Imperial Knights #2)

Chapter 16

CHAPTER

SIXTEEN

Roxy

“I’m nervous,” I convey to the girls as we box up Mr. and Mrs. McAllister's bedroom. The kids’ rooms have already been done and taken to RiffRaff and Jillian’s house, then set up so they have something familiar to comfort them. The only things we didn’t send over were the clothes that were out of season.

“Everything is going to work out, Roxy,” Harper promises. “Wrecker says so, so I believe him.”

“Is he all seeing as well as being a therapist?” I ask, teasing my new friend.

“He knows things,” she replies, winking at me as she bumps my shoulder with hers. “He cares about his family and knew that you and Saber needed help past the bump in the road.”

“That was a roadblock, not a bump, complete with barbed wire and snarling dogs,” I giggle. “But I’m glad he stepped in, otherwise, we may have never found our way back to each other.”

“He tried giving y’all time to figure things out on your own, but with Canyon and Egypt in the picture, he didn’t think you two would get there without a little push.”

“A push.” I snort. “He gave me a dick, Harper.”

“He told me you nearly ripped that appendage off when you felt Saber up,” she laughs.

“You try waking up in a man’s body and see how you react, Harper,” I lecture. “I promise, it was more than simple curiosity.”

“It’s a good thing you didn’t rip it off,” Laney states. “I know that what happens in the dreamworld doesn't always follow you home, but think about it, he has the probability of getting stuck in time, isn’t that curious?”

“Explain that,” I demand. “He can get stuck in someone’s mind?”

“He can without his anchor to the real world,” Harper states. “Which just so happens to be me.”

“You have a gift too?” I ask, interested in what they’re saying instead of boxing things up.

“You’ll find that we all do,” Laney expresses.

“I don’t,” I argue.

“Are you sure about that?” Selah asks, setting the bubble wrap to the side and placing all of her attention on me.

“Pretty sure,” I reply, bobbing my head. “I’d know, wouldn’t I?”

“Not if it’s dim and doesn’t show itself unless you’re around others like you,” Laney suggests. “I’ve learned that in this world, you never know what’s behind locked doors.”

Careening my head to the side in contemplation, I ask, “You think I’ve locked it away? If I have one that is.”

“Would that surprise you after everything you’ve learned?” Selah inquires.

“No, I suppose not,” I acknowledge.

“Well, there’s no need in worrying about something that might not be. For now, just ride the wave and if something exposes itself, we’ll help you through it,” Harper suggests. “Let’s wrap up, we’re almost done here. How’s it going in the bathroom, Selah?”

“I’m done,” Selah answers. “I have a trash bag full of things to be tossed, a box prepared to donate to charity, and the other is wrapped and ready to be stored with keepsakes.”

“I wonder how the guys are doing in the garage?” I ask.

“I’m sure they’re going through everything the same way we are. They’ll make sure that Canyon has his dad’s tools stored in a way that they won’t degrade,” Laney resolves.

The rest of the day we work in silence. It takes us eight hours in total to finish packing the rest of the rooms then cleaning the house since it’ll be going on the rental list sometime in the next week. Since we weren’t totally sure about what to do with the McAllisters’ clothes, we got airtight and waterproof totes to store them in because the kids might want some of them when they’re older. If they don’t, at least they’ll still be in good enough condition so that they can be donated at that time. Like Weston and I have discussed several times since all of this has happened, none of those decisions have to be made today.

“You ready for this?” Weston asks as we walk up the front porch to RiffRaff and Jillian’s house. It’s a huge, sprawling farmhouse which makes me happy because that means there’s plenty of space for Canyon and Egypt to roam and play. The kids had a rough night according to them, and they thought maybe us coming over and introducing ourselves will give them something else to think about.

“I don’t know that I’m ready, but even with that being said, I think the sooner we do this the better it’ll be for all four of us,” I reply. Okay, so in reality, I want to vomit, but I’m supposed to be an adult and face shit head-on, not cower. So, I’ve metaphorically pulled up my big girl britches and am standing by my man’s side.

“Just remember, if they’re short or mean-spirited, it’s nothing you’ve done, Foxy. They’re going to be overly emotional and ready to attack at a moment's notice. It doesn’t help that Canyon is fourteen and his hormones are out of whack,” he says, reminding me.

“I remember those days,” I snicker, bumping his shoulder. “You were an asshole when you were his age.”

“I was not,” he says in mock outrage. “I was as cool as a cucumber.”

“Lies!” I accuse, rolling my eyes. “You acted like the spawn of Satan.”

“Now who’s lying?” he asks, cackling.

Before I can continue with our bantering, the door swings open and RiffRaff steps outside, he looks worn and his eyes are somber when he lifts them and looks at us. “Egypt had nightmares all night. She got a total of four hours of sound sleep. Every time she closes her eyes; she lives through the crash.”

My heart breaks for the little girl. Her whole life has been turned upside down and now she’s with strangers. Granted, her big brother is with her, but he’s likely in his own head and little comfort to his scared, traumatized sister.

“We may need to call in Wrecker to help her soothe some of those memories,” Weston recommends. “Dragon may be able to assist him to dull the moment too.” I knew in my gut that Dragon’s attribute had to do with the mind, but seeing as I told Weston I’d wait until his president wanted me to know I wouldn’t probe any further, and I haven’t.

However, it surprises me a little bit that Weston is speaking so freely about these things in front of RiffRaff. Is the Roanoke chapter like the guys who came from Cedar Creek? It’s something to ponder.

“What about Canyon? How’s he handling things?” I ask RiffRaff.

“He hasn’t said a word,” RiffRaff replies. “He’ll nod yes or shake his head no, but not one peep has passed his lips since we brought them here from the hospital.”

“Did he talk at the hospital?” I question. I honestly don’t remember hearing him speak, so I wonder if this is because he’s now in foster care and the reality of his situation can’t be avoided.

“He talked to me, but didn’t really say anything to anyone else,” Weston states. “In fact, outside of when he asked me how his sister was, he was mostly monosyllabic.”

“Has Mrs. Tremain set him up with any therapy appointments? I’d think that would be one of the first things we need to set up if not,” I advise.

“Yes,” Jillian replies, having come onto the porch with us. She notices the expression on my face and continues. “Both kids are laying down right now. Egypt has fallen asleep, but I don’t expect it’ll be for very long based on last night, and Canyon isn’t sleeping, he’s just in his bed, curled up into a ball, staring at the wall.”

Tears start trickling down my face. Right now, in this moment, I wish I had the ability to turn back time so they’d have their parents back. Even if it meant that Weston still hated me, and we wouldn’t have the opportunity to have our son in our lives. I know we’re in a far better position now than we were then to raise a family, and so many parents don’t get this opportunity, but what will it cost the kids just so we get some joy?

“C’mon in, y’all. No sense standing on the porch when we’ve got a comfortable den we can sit in,” RiffRaff says.

Weston and I follow behind him and Jillian, with the two of us heading to the kitchen to get some drinks. When we get in the kitchen, it’s to see Jillian’s two, Kimber and Callum, working together to make cookies.

“Hi, Miss Roxy!” Kimber exclaims. “We’re making cookies for later when Canyon and Egypt come back down.”

“That’s very thoughtful,” I say. “What kind?”

Callum laughs while clapping his hands. “All of them!”

Jillian shakes her head, giggling at his antics. “They’re making our favorites that we enjoy until we find out what theirs are,” she advises, pulling a pitcher of iced tea out of the refrigerator. “I know Saber likes tea, what about you?”

I shudder when she waves the disgusting drink, that looks like dirty water, in my direction. “Anything diet or water if you don’t have diet drinks.”

Kimber starts snickering as she looks at her mom. “Um, we have Diet Coke, Diet Dr. Pepper, Coke Zero, and Fanta Zero.”

“Diet Coke please. Jillian, let me help,” I suggest, walking over to where she’s got several glasses on the counter.

“You’re a guest,” she whispers.

“No, we’re all family now,” I rebut. “Which means I get to help.”

“She’s got you there, Mom,” Kimber sasses. “Okay, Callum, can you bring me the butter that’s inside the microwave? Be careful and use the oven mitt.”