Chapter 8
I hadn’t made it more than a handful of feet into my apartment that night before I stopped; body going so still that it was nearly painful as I took in my surroundings without moving. From the toys, books, and blankets left haphazardly in the living room to the scattered notebooks and bags I could just barely catch a glimpse of in the kitchen. Country music was playing through my speakers, and Kaia was crying somewhere in the apartment. Again.
By the time I was able to move, my lungs felt strained, my jaw and fists were clenched tight, and my muscles were twitching restlessly as I tried ignoring the feeling that was quick to overwhelm me whenever disorder spilled into my life. Like I was back in the trailer I’d grown up in, surrounded by drugs, filth, insects, and who knew what else.
“Miss Pearson,” I called out, her name snapping from me when I got a clearer view of the kitchen and saw it was even worse than the living room.
For a split second, silence filled the apartment as the song drifted to a close, and Kaia’s screams stopped. But then she started up again, full force, just before the source of my torment for the past nine months came rushing out of the hall with my screaming niece in her arms, her eyes widening when she saw me.
“Hey— hi ,” she stammered and quickly brushed at curls that had fallen before wrapping both arms around Kaia again. “You’re back.”
“It’s after five,” I informed her.
“Oh...” A whisper of surprise settled over her expression as she glanced around as if looking to confirm that before she released a heaving breath. “Well, okay. Sorry, I wasn’t expecting you yet.”
“I can see that.”
At the frustration in my words, she blinked up at me, seemingly taken aback.
“I’m not paying you to destroy my apartment, Miss Pearson.”
A stunned sound burst from her, but just when it looked like she’d snap back, she smiled instead and gently assured me, “Your apartment is fine, Mr. Briggs.”
“Asher.”
“Lainey,” she countered just as calmly as before, then waved her hand to the disaster behind me. “I had some things delivered, and I haven’t finished?—”
“Delivered,” I echoed, the word coming out low and harsh. “You had things delivered here?” At her hesitant nod, I demanded, “Why?”
“For Kaia,” she clarified. “You had the essentials, but there was still a lot that was needed for her and for you. To help you with her.” When I just stared at her, she hurried to add, “I was putting it all away between playing with her, but slowed down and lost track of time because...well...” She gestured to where Kaia was now softly crying.
I glanced at my niece for only a second before my gaze fell to the floor. It was like taking a dull knife to the chest and the cruelest reminder of who I’d lost every time I looked at her. “Can’t you get her to stop crying?”
A breathless laugh left Lainey. “She’s a baby, Mr. Briggs.”
“Asher,” I reminded her as my attention snapped back to her.
Lainey’s head slanted in acceptance as she continued, repeating the words I’d given to the social worker that morning, “Babies cry. Kaia’s also very tired.”
“You got her to sleep earlier,” I unnecessarily reminded her. “Can’t you do that again?”
“In a perfect world, sure,” she said with a brief, exhausted smile that in no way dulled how beautiful it was. “But I’ve been researching babies and their different stages all day. She needs to be on a sleep schedule so she’ll sleep through the night. I let her sleep for a little while this morning, but she refused to nap this afternoon. And if you’re here, then it’s probably time for her to eat.”
I wasn’t sure I’d ever felt as lost as I did right then, listening to this woman talk about the baby in her arms.
I’d raised myself and my younger siblings. I’d kept us fed, gotten us to school and back each day, and had figured out how to wash our clothes at the laundromat. I’d gone from a kid just trying to make it out of a trailer park alive to the leader of a Special Forces team to the owner of an extremely successful private security company.
But this? Sleep schedules and feeding a crying baby that I couldn’t even look at? It had a panic I’d never known creeping into my veins.
And then it hit me—I didn’t even know what to feed Kaia. I hadn’t been the one to feed her since the social worker dropped her off. I hadn’t even been around when the rest of my team had .
“Right,” I finally said, refusing to give voice to any of my doubts and worries. I’d figured it all out once, and that was before smartphones. I could do it again. “Give me the receipts from today so I can reimburse you, then leave.”
Lainey’s eyebrows drew tightly together before she shakily nodded.
I watched as she swept past me into the living room, seeming to shrink in on herself as she held Kaia close. As soon as I realized she was collecting the scattered books and straightening up, I said, “Leave, Miss Pearson.”
She froze with her back to me for long seconds before carefully placing the book she’d just grabbed on the small pile she’d already made. With a slow exhale, she turned, her steps quick but careful as she moved to the kitchen.
Once she had Kaia strapped into the highchair, she bent close so her nose was almost touching my niece’s, and whispered something I couldn’t make out before twisting to move through the kitchen.
Her expression was calm and resigned, but there was a deep sadness that lingered beneath the surface that had me intently studying her. Trying to understand this girl who was always on the edge of my every thought as she looked helplessly at all the bags before finally meeting my stare.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to finish putting everything away?” When I slanted my head, her shoulders seemed to sag before she could offer me a smile I was sure she meant to be reassuring.
Once she had her bag slung over her shoulder and was playing with her keys, she cautiously edged back up to the breakfast bar. Pressing the tips of her fingers to the notebook sitting there, she studied it before looking at me again. “Hopefully this helps. And I’m sorry if I—well.. .I’m sorry.” With another glance at Kaia, she ducked her head and hurried toward the elevator.
Leaving a trail of all that wild energy that I wanted nothing to do with and was already eagerly anticipating another hit of.
Kaia sniffed, dragging my attention back to her. And as if realizing she was now alone with the man who would destroy the world for her between wanting nothing to do with her, she let out a shrill cry that was nothing short of nails on a chalkboard.
I glanced at the clock once Lainey was gone, already mentally counting down to when she would show up again.
This was going to be a long fourteen hours.
I couldn’t do this.
I was failing in a way I never had before, and I didn’t know how to stop.
Thanks to Lainey’s meticulously detailed notes, I knew exactly what to give Kaia for dinner, but she’d refused almost all of it, screaming the entire time. She hadn’t stopped screaming since Lainey left over seven hours ago.
I’d given her a bath between mumbled curses and begging her to stop thrashing for just one minute. I’d changed her diaper—clumsily, considering I hadn’t changed a diaper since I was a kid myself. I’d gotten her in her pajamas even if they were backwards at first. I’d tried putting her in the crib, but she’d flailed and kicked at the bars for hours before I’d gone to get her.
Now we were on the floor of her room. Kaia was sitting there, staring at me with the most devastating expression, face red and tear-stained from crying for so long. And I...I was breaking.
For the first time since I’d gotten the call about Wyatt, every denial and heartbreak were ripping from my chest in strained sobs. My body shuddered as I fought to get control of my grief, but maybe this break was unavoidable.
There was only so much trauma you could endure, death you could see, and loss you could suffer before you inevitably broke.
Wyatt was clearly my breaking point.
Or maybe it was just this endless screaming.
Swiping the back of my hand over my face, I quickly got to my feet and scooped Kaia up as I stalked out of her room and through the apartment. Never slowing until we were up in my room, and I had my phone to my ear. Not giving myself time to think about what I was doing until the call connected.
“Hello?” she answered, voice low and groggy.
“Help,” I demanded, practically begged, my teeth grinding as the foreign word left me.
I wasn’t sure I’d ever asked anyone for help in my life.
I’d given jobs over to people on my team so it didn’t all fall on me, and I’d accepted help, but asking for it? It felt like another failure.
Seconds passed before shuffling sounded through the phone. When Lainey spoke again, she sounded wholly confused and only slightly more alert. “Mr. Briggs?”
“Asher.”
“What—wait, what time is it?” she mumbled to herself before asking me, “What’s happening?”
My eyelids slipped shut, and I took slow, steeling breaths as I admitted a shame deeper than any other I had before, “I can’t do this.”
Understanding and sympathy practically poured through the phone. “I’m sure this is all so difficult and a lot to deal with, but you can do this.”
My head shook as she spoke. “The only time she hasn’t cried was when you were here. Please...Lainey, please. Help.”
Silence met me for a while before she hesitantly said, “You fired me,” as if in reminder.
My eyelids snapped open at her words. “What?”
“Which is fine,” she hurried to assure me at the gruff question, “but I don’t know how you expect me to help you when I only worked for you for a day.”
“I didn’t fire you.”
A soft sound that was equal parts frustration and amusement left her. “You were mad at me, and you very irritably told me to give you the receipts of the things I bought?—”
“Which you didn’t,” I said over her, but she continued speaking as if I hadn’t.
“—then told me to leave.”
I waited for her to go on, but when she didn’t, I ground out, “Leave, as in for the night .”
“That was not the implication either of the times you demanded I leave, Mr. Briggs.”
“My name is Asher,” I reminded her, trying and failing to speak to her in the same gentle tone she continuously offered me. “And whatever you took from my words and tone, I assure you, it wasn’t meant to be there. When you left my apartment this evening, I fully expected you to be back in the morning.”
I left out the part about me starting a mental countdown as soon as she’d left.
A hesitant sigh started leaving her but cut short when Kaia’s next scream came through even louder than the others, causing me to wince.
“How long did you say she’s been like that?” Lainey asked.
“Since you left,” I informed her. “Wouldn’t eat. Won’t sleep.” When Lainey didn’t offer advice or reply in any way, I added, “I’ve never asked someone for help before. Don’t make me ask again.”
And yet, the longer I waited for a response from her, my lips parted to do exactly that just as she abruptly said, “I’m on my way,” before ending the call.