Chapter 29
Andilyn
The next few hours pass in a blur, but the moment I step inside the once happy home that’s now shrouded by grief, I feel the absence of Seth acutely.
I’m sure when they purchased this place they had grand plans of making it their dream home, but all that’s left is the ruin of what could’ve been.
I pack Hudson’s things robotically, forcing myself to detach from the reality of what I’m doing and the reason it’s necessary.
His scent still clings to the clothes hanging in his closet, his toys strewn around his room haphazardly after he abandoned them mid-play.
It’s like a pause button was pressed when they left here Friday morning, and it only mounts my festering anger to know that Seth was keenly aware they wouldn’t be returning, his brash decision forever altering the course of his son’s life.
Sensing the somberness of my mood, the guys leave me to work in peace.
Rita busies herself by cleaning up the kitchen, tossing any food that’s likely to spoil before we can make it back out here to empty the house completely.
As soon as I finish taping up a box, Colsen takes it to the truck, refusing to let me lift a thing.
Briggs grabs a toolbox and starts taking apart Hudson’s bed, but we collectively decide it’s best to leave his bedding and decor, opting to purchase new stuff so he isn’t overwhelmed by his entire room being replicated elsewhere.
By the time we make it back to the apartment, the sun has set, and my back is starting to ache.
“You doin’ okay?” Briggs helps me from the truck, his mouth pinched with worry as he trails his gaze over my body.
“I’m fine,” I assure him. “Just tired and stressed. I can’t wait to crash, but the pressure I feel to make sure everything’s perfect is refusing to let me stop.
It’s like my character as a person—as a parental figure—is on the chopping block, and all it’d take for everything to fall apart is one person’s negative opinion of me.
I barely have faith in my own ability to be a decent parent, so why should anyone else give me a chance to prove myself when the stakes are so high?
” My breath rushes out of me, the doubts I’ve been struggling with pouring from my mouth against my will.
“That’s just it, Angel.” Briggs’ achingly soft words could very well be the thing that pushes me over the edge.
He cups my cheek, his eyes holding mine like he has a direct line to my soul.
“We see what you can’t; there’s not a single person who’s more perfect than you to raise these kids.
I won’t say it’s destiny, because there’s no justification for what either of you went through, but I do believe that fate brought Hudson into your life for a reason.
If there were ever something good to come from what you both endured, it’s the fact that you found each other.
So, despite your own reservations, I need you to trust in us–that we’d never leave you hanging.
In case you missed it, even Seth knew the four of us have no plans of disappearing.
We’re not going anywhere. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not next week, or even next year.”
My fingers grip Briggs’ wrist, his thumb still stroking my cheek.
I have no idea how he knows just what to say when I’m spiraling, but the effect is grounding.
I’ve been self-sufficient all my life. Every memory I have, the only person I could count on was me.
In hindsight, I think it’s a blessing in disguise that we can’t remember infancy.
If my parents couldn’t be bothered to properly care for a kid who didn’t require much in the way of supervision, how negligent were they when I was a baby?
Was I left to cry for hours on end? How long would I sit in a soiled diaper before it occurred to them that maybe they should change me?
I’m fairly certain I don’t want to know the answers to any of those questions, and if for no other reason, having shitty parents only reinforces my determination to be everything they weren’t.
“Let’s get you inside,” Briggs comments, abruptly redirecting my thoughts.
Glancing around, I realize Colsen and Rita are halfway up the front steps, their arms full of boxes.
I grab a small tote from the backseat, the only thing I’ve been permitted to carry, and rush to catch up with the others.
It’s gotten rather chilly since dusk fell, and the idea of a hot shower sounds heavenly.
“Welcome back,” Roy greets me at the door. He takes the bag I’m holding, passing it to Raiden so he can sort where it goes. “Dayton is grilling burgers on the rooftop. Would you mind checking in with him to see if he needs any help carrying everything down?”
“Of course not.” I hasten my steps, entering the guys’ apartment a few seconds later. I’m breathing heavily by the time I make it to the top of the spiral staircase, needing a moment to gather my wits as a wave of dizziness causes me to stumble.
“Butterfly,” Dayton calls out, an edge to his tone as he rushes to my side, guiding his arm around my body so he can steady me.
“Why the fuck are you up here?” He glares at the empty space behind me, as if the person to blame is going to magically appear.
“And where the hell is your jacket?” He doesn’t give me a chance to respond before he rips his hoodie off and shoves my arms through it.
His scent still lingers beneath the hint of charcoal, a smile tilting my lips as I inhale deeply.
“I came to help you carry the food down,” I state, ignoring the other questions.
He grunts in annoyance, walking towards the grill to make sure nothing is burning.
I stand a few feet behind him, my lip tucked between my teeth as nerves start to bombard me.
Dayton has never struggled to voice what he’s thinking, at least not with me.
He’s always spoken his mind, even to the detriment of coming across as rude or overbearing.
But I’ve always respected his lack of a filter, because even though his bluntness can be off-putting at times, I’ve never had to guess what’s going on inside of his head.
The same can’t be said for this particular moment.
For weeks now, I’ve watched the way his body moves, becoming quite skilled at reading his mannerisms after tagging along to so many of his early morning practices with the team.
Right now, he’s so closed off I couldn’t begin to speculate what he’s thinking.
I’m not delusional enough to think my actions will be overlooked without so much as a conversation, but Dayton is typically the most confrontational, so his silence speaks volumes.
I shift from foot to foot, debating if I should be the one to broach the subject or let him stew until he’s finally ready to voice what he’s feeling.
He sighs audibly, his shoulders drooping as he begins to plate the burgers.
“I’m angry with you,” he admits quietly, keeping his back to me as he speaks.
I knew this would be the likely outcome, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less to hear him say it.
“But not for the reason you think. I’m pissed that you’ve been pushing yourself to join me at the ass crack of dawn.
I’m livid that you’ve been sitting on a hard, cold-as-fuck metal bench for an hour and a half, twice a week.
And don’t get me started on the shitty breakfasts I’ve been unknowingly feeding to a pregnant woman.
” My lips part, gearing up to squash his inaccurate placement of blame, but they snap shut when he spins to face me, the intensity of his stare searing a path from the top of my head to the soles of my feet.
“Don’t you dare try to make this better by saying it’s not my fault,” he demands, his lip curled in disgust at himself, but I’m failing to see the correlation.
It was my decision to keep the guys in the dark; therefore, it’s no one else’s fault if the consequences were less than preferable.
However, nothing he’s describing was bothersome to me in the slightest. “It’s my responsibility to make sure you’re taken care of.
That you have everything you need. So imagine my surprise when it comes to light that Briggs, of all fucking people, has been the one doing my goddamn job.
” I reel back in shock, my brows scrunched in confusion as I try to decipher the meaning behind his words.
“I’m not following…” I trail off, my head tilting to the side as I watch his anger amplify, as if I’m being purposely obtuse.
“And therein lies the root of the problem, Butterfly.” His fists clench tightly as he takes slow, determined steps towards me, only stopping when there are a scarce few inches between us.
“How the fuck am I supposed to feel about another man seeing to my girl’s needs, especially when I don’t have the full scope of what they are?
” My eyes flare wide, surprise and a healthy dose of alarm rendering me mute.
Dayton steps closer, his chest brushing mine as a wicked smirk curves his mouth.
He spins his ballcap backward, the move too hot for comprehension.
I push the fog of confusion from my brain, but his finger presses against my lips before I can string together a coherent sentence.