Chapter 41
Forty-One
Ava
Two days later and we still haven’t seen or heard from Ric.
Felix is doing his best to try and find him, but he seems to have gone completely off grid with the help of someone.
My anxiety about it is starting to get to me, and I half expect a major attack soon.
The issue is, Ric isn’t the sort to blow up in a public way.
Whatever he does will be secretive, which puts me more on guard.
Tonight is one of the rare nights where it’s just Elsie and me eating dinner at home.
Dagen had some business to attend to with Wylan, and Felix claimed he needed to check in with one of his contacts.
Which meant that Elsie and I got a quiet night at home, both of us humming over the plate of spaghetti we’d cooked together.
“What do you think?” I ask Elsie. “Would Gordon Ramsey like it?”
Elsie laughs. “No. He’d probably tell us it tasted cheap and that we’re an idiot sandwich.”
We both giggle, reminded of the show we love watching together. It feels so normal, so perfect, that it gives me hope for a second.
This.
This moment right here is why the guys are right.
If Ric continues to live, he’ll always be a danger to us. He’ll never let us just live without him, not if he can change that. He wants to put us in a cage, break our wings, but I won’t allow that to happen to Elsie.
I won’t.
As I sit there, my face must harden because Elsie reaches up and touches it. “Are you okay, Mom?”
I sigh and relax my face. “I’m fine, baby. Just thinking.”
“About dad?”
My expression smooths out. “What makes you think that?”
“You get the same angry look on your face every time you think about him.” She shrugs.
I blow out a breath. “You shouldn’t know that.”
“Why shouldn’t I?” she asks curiously. “I’m nine, not a baby.”
I can’t stop the laugh that rushes out and I shake my head. “Nine isn’t old at all.”
“But I’m not a baby,” she reminds me, pointing at me with her fork. “Besides, I notice a lot. Like the way Mr. Fox, Mr. Otto, and Wylan look at you.” She smiles. “Like the prettiest princess. Wylan even said you were.”
“Ah,” I say, wondering how I even begin to talk about a subject like this.
“It’s okay, you know,” she says.
“What is?” I ask, watching her carefully.
“If they’re around more.” She shrugs again. “They protect us. And they make you happy.” She stabs a meatball with her fork. “I like them, too.”
That’s it. So simple. No explanation needed because my too perceptive nine-year-old has already noticed. Man, I’m bad at this.
“Your face is pinched again,” she points out. “Stop worrying.” She reaches out and takes my hand. “I think we’re going to be okay. Dad can’t hurt us anymore. He’d have to go through Mr. Fox, Mr. Otto, and Wylan.” She takes a bite of the meatball. “And no one gets past Wylan.”
I press my hand to my forehead. “Did he tell you that?”
Elsie grins. “Yes. While wearing the pink tiara and tutu.” She takes another bite. “I think we should get him a princess dress. He seems like he really wants one.”
My lips pull into a smile. “You know what?” I say, pulling out my phone. “I think you’re right. We’ll order it right now.”
After all, the prettiest princess has to wear a dress. Elsie’s rules.
And we gotta follow the rules, or else where would we be?