Chapter 35
Jericho
I heard every word the doctor told Aspen, and just the idea of Eli having lifelong issues because of what occurred so early in his life makes my skin crawl.
I don't blame Aspen. She did the best she could do with the life she was handed. If anything, I blame myself. My bitterness kept me away. My anger over her choices, the betrayal I felt every day when I looked in the mirror, kept me away.
I crossed over that thin line from love to hate so easily, and if I were her, I'd probably hate me too. She suffered when she didn't have to.
How many times did she cry for me? How many times did she wish I was there, thinking I was dead?
I watch Eli as he presses his nose to the window of the helicopter. He's smiling, seeming to be enjoying the ride, but only time will soften the shadows circling his eyes. He has slept most of the day, and the doctor warned that he may want to sleep a lot. Although he needs to rest, we also need to watch for signs of depression. At seven years old, the boy shouldn't have concerns in his life. He shouldn't be stressed, worried, nervous, or anxious, but we were warned that he might experience all those and more.
I know we can meet every single one of his needs going forward and pray that the love we give him will make up for and overpower the trauma he has suffered.
I know now what Aspen meant when she told me she felt helpless. It's digging a hole inside of me, all my worries and fears piling up in the crater and making me antsy.
I turn my attention to Aspen but she's sleeping, her hands gripping Eli in her lap as if she's going to lose him again if she isn't holding him. The doctor mentioned therapy for our son, but I think all of us getting in a couple of sessions wouldn't hurt. Just thinking that makes me realize how much being a parent can change things for people.
I've never wanted to talk about my feelings. I'm a man who can handle his own shit, but I know better. I want to be better for these two.
Even in her sleep, Aspen frowns. If there was a way for me to take all her worries from her, I would. I'd shoulder the weight for both of them if they'd let me, but I have no idea how this situation looks in a week much less in a year or two. I'm not the only one who can make decisions about the direction we take. I can't put my foot down and demand things from Aspen. She might listen for a while, but she'd be bitter. I'd be no different from Damien trying to control her life, and I never want to look into her pretty eyes and see the same hatred that she had for him.
The landing of the helicopter wakes Aspen, and her eyes are wild for a second until she realizes that her reality is the same as it was before she fell asleep. I swear if I hadn't already killed Damien Gaines, I'd hunt him down and do it again for the trauma he's caused both her and Eli.
"Where are we going?" Eli asks Aspen in a low tone.
Aspen looks to me, making me realize I never explained to her what our next steps are. I can't take for granted that she's along for the ride because she wants to be and not because I just demanded it of her with my actions.
"We're in Tennessee, bud," I tell him. "There's a cabin here, and it has an indoor pool. There's a room in the basement with arcade games, and it even has a theater to watch movies in."
"That's a lot of stuff," Eli says, nervously toying with the front of the blanket wrapped around him.
He doesn't show the excitement I expected, and it crushes my heart just a little further.
"If I'm good, can I see the pool?"
And right then and there, my fucking heart splits open.
"See it? " I ask with a smile when all I want to do is pull this child to my chest and promise him the world. "We're gonna swim every day. Are you good at air hockey?"
He blinks at me. "I don't know what that is."
His voice is shy and I can see the struggle in his eyes. I have no doubt he was promised things he never got, along with having to see things he'd love but never get to have.
"It's hard to explain, but you'll love it," I assure him.
He blinks at me, and I can see that he has been promised a lot of things. Going by the mildly disappointed look in his eyes, those things have never come to fruition. I'll spend every hour of every day proving to this child that I mean what I say. I'll do my best never to have to go back on my word, and I hope that I prove to him enough that my word means something. That when something comes up and what I said would happen isn't possible, I'll make it up to him.
I don't want to be disappointed, but I know for him to have trust in me, it will take some time. Thankfully, he's young enough that with the help of a therapist, we can hopefully work toward him having faith and trust in those around him.
The helicopter ride ends a few miles from the cabin, and there is an SUV waiting there for us.
"Does he need this?" I ask, pointing to the booster seat in the back seat.
"He does," Aspen confirms. "He needs to be a few inches taller before he can ride without one."
I stare down at the thing, realizing I have a lot to learn about kids.
"Zara must've done this," I say, watching Eli climb into the booster seat.
"We'll have to thank her," she says, making sure to adjust the seat belt so it hits Eli in the right spot across his chest. "I'm going to sit back here with him."
I climb into the driver's seat and pull away from the helipad. For the first time in as long as I can remember, I'm nervous about driving. I don't know that I've ever felt the need to consider the people in the car with me before. Of course, I drive safely. I'm not a speed demon and I don't go zipping around in traffic. I'm pretty laid back in that I'm usually not in a big hurry, but I find myself riding the brake a lot more and looking in the rearview mirror to make sure they're both still okay.
"Do you drive slower with him in the car?" I ask her as we pull into the parking area for the cabin.
"I've never driven," she says, as if it's common to be her age and not drive.
"Do you want to learn?" I ask as I climb out and make my way to Eli's side of the SUV.
I help him out of the car and smile when he looks up at the cabin as if it's the most magnificent thing he's ever seen.
"I imagine I should," she says. "Just in case, but I'm not exactly excited about it."
"I wouldn't be the best teacher," I say honestly.
"Too rigid?"
I chew the inside of my cheek before answering. "I'd get distracted too easily."
She gives me a simple smile as she dips her head, and I don't miss the flush in her cheeks.
"What do you think?" she asks Eli as she steps up beside him and rests her hand softly on his back.
"It's really big. Whose house is it?"
Aspen looks to me for an explanation, and the answer is a little more complicated than it would be if we had our own place.
"This is owned by the guy I work for," I say. "We all live here."
"And I'll live here, too?" he asks, but he doesn't sound very happy about it.
It's one more thing I'll have to prove will be different from the time he spent with Damien.
"You will," I answer, not bothering to look at Aspen.
I know it's a conversation we'll have to have, but neither of them is in a place to go anywhere else any time soon.
"How many people will be in my room?"
"Are you used to sharing a room?" I ask, using the opportunity to gather more information without it feeling like I'm grilling him.
"Yeah," he says, not giving me much.
"Here, you get your own room," Hemlock says from the front porch.
I don't miss the way Eli leans in closer to Aspen. I know Hemlock is a scary dude. Being around mean-looking people who don't hurt others will be something else he has to get used to.
"I'm Hemlock," my boss says before holding his hand out. "And this is Zara."
"I'd love to show you to your room," Zara says with an easy, welcoming smile.
Eli looks at his mother, and when she dips her head in approval, he follows Zara up the steps and into the house. Aspen doesn't look in my direction before following both of them.
Her one and only focus right now is Eli, as it should be.
I hold back, waiting to speak with Hemlock.
"How is he doing?" the man asks as we walk inside.
"He's exhausted. I don't think we'll know the real extent of his trauma for a while. The doctor mentioned it manifesting in the form of behavior issues because of his age. He needs a therapist."
"We'll make arrangements for someone to come to the house. Whatever it takes, we'll do," Hemlock says, and it shows the value of the man that I didn't even have to ask.
I swallow a lump in my throat. For the very first time, in a very long time, I feel like I have a family, and I easily include this man in that. I just don't know how long everything will stay intact. There's a lot up in the air right now, and I don't have a clue how it will all fall when the dust settles.
"Something to eat?" Zara asks when she comes back down the stairs.
"Thank you for all you've done for us," I tell her, thinking better of offering her a hug of gratitude.
Family or not, there's only so much Hemlock will take where she's concerned.
"You're more than welcome," she says, fitting herself into Hemlock's side.
It's insane how different the man is around her. It's as if she was a missing piece. They fit together perfectly.
"He loved his room, but his eyes were already drooping. I don't imagine he'll be awake much longer," Zara says before turning to Hemlock. "Hungry?"
I feel like an outsider, watching the way his eyes dip to her mouth before a smile pulls up the corners of his lips.
"Starving," he says, his voice more of a growl than a word.
I huff a laugh when they head up the stairs instead of toward the kitchen, waiting for them to clear the top landing before I climb them.
I take a gamble on the door that's cracked beside my room and pop my head in. I feel like everything is right in my world when I look toward the full-sized bed to see Aspen curled around Eli who, like Zara predicted, is already asleep.
When my shadow reaches out to her form, she lifts her head, smiling gently in my direction. It hits me right in the middle of the chest like a lightning strike. This is everything. She's everything. Eli is everything.
This scenario is what I've been missing my entire life. The two of them are the puzzle pieces I didn't know were missing to make me whole.
She lifts her hand, waving it in my direction, an offering for me to join the two of them, but the rawness that's scratching at my skin is too much.
They have this connection, a bond that every mother and child should have, but I also know how fragile it is. His age may not allow for him to understand how impossible it was for her to protect him, and the pain and punishments she did receive in order to keep him safe. I want their bond to solidify. I don't want him to be bitter and blame her for anything. I can't interfere with their bonding, even if it means putting mine and his on hold for the time being.
I hold my hand up in a slight wave, letting her know I can't join them just yet, before backing out of the room and closing the door behind me.