Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
evangeline
The sound of shattering glass makes me run down the hallway toward Jake's room. I find him in the middle of what can only be described as a complete meltdown, hurling his toys against the wall while screaming at the top of his lungs.
"Jake, sweetheart, please—"
"I want my mom!" he shrieks, throwing his favorite action figure so hard it cracks the mirror above his dresser. "I want my dad! I want them to come home!"
My heart breaks watching him fall apart. The other kids are huddled in the doorway, Sophie crying, Lily clinging to Emma's leg. Mason steps forward like he's going to help, but I shake my head.
"Take your sisters to the living room," I tell him quietly. "Put on a movie or something."
He nods, understanding that his little brother needs space to let this out.
"Jake, honey, I know you miss them—"
"You're not my mom!" he screams, his face red and streaked with tears. "You can't tell me what to do! I hate you! I hate living here! I hate everything!"
The words hit like physical blows, even though I know he doesn't mean them. He's ten years old and his world exploded three weeks ago. Of course he's angry. Of course he's lashing out at the safest target he can find.
"It's okay to be angry," I say, keeping my voice calm even though my hands are shaking. "You can be as mad as you want. But we can't throw things that might hurt someone."
"I don't care!" Another toy hits the wall, this one a wooden train car that leaves a dent in the drywall. "I don't care about anything!"
The front door slams, and I hear Ethan's voice echoing through the house. "What the hell is all that noise?"
My stomach drops. He's supposed to be in New York until tomorrow, wrapping up some business deal. The last thing I need right now is him trying to handle a traumatized child with his usual authoritarian approach.
Hades has security cameras all around the house, not to mention a prospect sitting outside, watching. So how the hell did he get in?
"Evangeline?" His voice is getting closer. "What's going on?"
“How did you get in?” I ask, my voice sharp. “Did the prospect not stop you?”
“He was busy,” he says nonchalantly. “What’s going on?” He asks once again.
"Jake's having a hard time," I call back, not taking my eyes off the little boy who's now pulling books off his shelf and throwing them across the room.
Ethan appears in the doorway, taking in the chaos with obvious displeasure. "He’s out of control. This ends now before any more damage is done."
"He's grieving."
"He's being destructive and disrespectful." Ethan steps into the room, his voice taking on that commanding tone that always makes my skin crawl. "That's enough. Stop this behavior immediately."
Jake looks up at him with wild, tear-filled eyes. "You're not my dad! You can't tell me what to do either!"
"I'm the adult in charge here, and you will listen to me." Ethan moves closer, looming over Jake in a way that's clearly meant to intimidate. "Pick up these toys. Right now. Every single one."
"No!"
"Yes. And if you don't, there will be consequences. No video games, no dessert, no—"
"Ethan, stop." I step between him and Jake, my protective instincts flaring. "This isn't helping."
"What's not helping is you coddling him. Children need structure, discipline, clear boundaries. Not endless patience for tantrums."
Jake throws another book, this one hitting Ethan in the leg. "I hate you! Go away!"
Ethan's face flushes red with anger. "That's it. You're going to your room and staying there until you can behave like a civilized human being."
"He is in his room."
"Then he can stay here. No dinner, no interaction with the other children. Maybe a night alone will teach him some respect."
The casual cruelty of it, the way he talks about punishing a traumatized child for expressing grief, makes my blood boil. "You're not punishing him for having the worst day of his life."
"I'm punishing him for being destructive and disrespectful."
"He's ten years old and his parents are dead!"
"That doesn't give him the right to destroy other people's property or treat adults with contempt."
I can see this escalating into a full-blown fight, which is the last thing Jake needs to witness. My hands are shaking as I pull out my phone.
"What are you doing?" Ethan asks.
"Calling someone who actually knows how to handle this."
"You're calling that biker? Absolutely not. We can handle this ourselves."
"We are not handling it. You're making it worse."
Ethan's jaw tightens. "I will not have my authority undermined in my own house."
"This isn't your house," I say, hitting Hades' number. "And Jake isn't your child."
The phone barely rings before Hades picks up. "Angel? What's wrong?"
"Jake's having a panic attack. He's throwing things, screaming, and I can't calm him down." My voice breaks slightly. "Can you come? Please?"
"I'm already on my way."
"Absolutely not," Ethan says the moment I hang up. "I will not have that criminal in this house dealing with family matters."
"Then leave," I snap. "Because he's coming whether you like it or not. You're also forgetting that Hades is family, and you have no right to be here. We broke up. Why can’t you accept it?"
Hades arrives in less than ten minutes, and the relief I feel when I see him walk through the door is overwhelming. He takes one look at my face, then at Ethan's furious expression, and his jaw tightens.
"Where is he?" he asks quietly.
"His room. Down the hall."
Hades nods and heads toward Jake's bedroom without another word, Ethan trailing behind him with obvious reluctance.
I slip into the kitchen under the excuse of grabbing a drink. For a second, my legs buckle, and I catch myself against the counter, swallowing a sob. Just for a moment, I let it wash over me, before I steady my spine and head back.
I find Jake curled up in the corner of his destroyed room, sobbing into his knees. He looks so small, so broken, that it makes my chest ache.
"Hey, buddy," Hades says, his voice gentle as he crouches down a few feet away from Jake. Not too close, not invading his space, just... present.
Jake looks up with red, swollen eyes. "Uncle Hades?"
"Yeah, it's me. Heard you were having a rough day."
"I broke everything," Jake whispers. "Aunt Evie's gonna be mad."
"I'm not mad, sweetheart," I say from the doorway. "I'm just worried about you."
"Your aunt's not mad," Hades confirms. "But it looks like you're pretty mad yourself."
Jake nods miserably. "I miss them so much. And I keep forgetting they're not coming back, and then I remember and it hurts."
"Yeah. That's the worst part, isn't it? When you forget for just a second and then reality hits you all over again."
"Does it ever stop hurting?"
Hades is quiet for a long moment, and I can see him choosing his words carefully. "It stops hurting as much. The love doesn't go away, and neither do the memories. But the hurt... it gets easier to carry."
"How do you know?"
"Because I lost someone important too when I was about your age."
Jake's eyes widen. "Who?"
"My mom. And it made me so angry that sometimes I'd break things too. It made me feel like if I couldn't make the hurt stop, at least I could make some noise about it."
"Did you get in trouble?"
"Sometimes. But mostly I just got scared looks from people who didn't understand that I wasn't really angry at them. I was angry at the whole world for taking away someone I needed."
Jake crawls closer to Hades, drawn by the quiet understanding in his voice. "Were you scared too?"
"Terrified. Because when you lose someone that important, it makes you wonder if everyone else is going to leave too."
"Yeah," Jake whispers. "That's exactly how I feel."
"I know, buddy. And it's okay to feel that way. It's okay to be angry and scared and sad all at the same time."
Behind me, I hear Ethan shift impatiently, but I ignore him. This is exactly what Jake needs; someone who understands, who doesn't try to fix or minimize his pain.
"What if I can't stop being angry?" Jake asks.
"Then we'll figure out better ways to let it out.
Ways that don't involve breaking things that can't be replaced.
" Hades glances around the destroyed room.
"But the good news is, most of this stuff can be fixed or replaced.
And the really important stuff, like how much your parents loved you, and how much your aunt and your brothers and sisters love you, that stuff can't be broken no matter how hard you throw things. "
Jake considers this, then launches himself at Hades, wrapping his small arms around his neck. "I'm sorry I broke everything."
"It's okay. We'll clean it up together." Hades holds him close, and over Jake's head, his eyes meet mine. The tenderness in his expression, the way he's comforting this broken little boy, makes something warm and dangerous flutter in my chest.
"Can you stay for a while?" Jake asks. "Until I fall asleep?"
"Of course."
"This is ridiculous," Ethan mutters from behind me. "The child needs discipline, not coddling."
Hades' eyes go cold as they shift to Ethan, but his voice remains gentle for Jake's benefit. "Why don't we get this room cleaned up first, and then we can talk about bedtime?"
For the next hour, I watch Hades work magic with all five kids.
He helps Jake sort through his belongings, separating what can be repaired from what needs to be replaced.
He listens to Emma talk about her worries without trying to fix everything.
He reads to Lily and Sophie, his deep voice turning the simple story into something captivating.