Chapter 8
Colton
My world keeps spinning further and further out of control.
I try to line everything up in my head, make it make sense somehow, but even I can hear how insane it sounds.
A week ago, it was just me and Ollie trying to survive.
Then I had to run. And now there’s Ronan.
Ronan, who seemed like an asshole when I first met him.
Ronan, who offered me a job that pays too much, an apartment that’s nicer than anywhere I’ve ever lived, and a contract so over-the-top it should probably come with ominous music in the background.
His mother acts like Ollie belongs to her already.
His father lets toddlers cover him in silly string.
His family fights like they’re in an action movie.
None of them is anything like what I expected from some rich business family.
And that’s almost worse. Because if they were cold or cruel or obviously fake, it would be easy to walk away.
Instead, they’re kind. I know there are red flags everywhere with Ronan.
I know that.
But every time I think I should pull back, he does something that makes me want to step closer instead. Can someone be a walking red flag and still somehow be green too? Because that’s exactly what Ronan feels like. And now he wants us to stay with him.
“That’s not necessary.”
“I’m pretty sure Alessia will not stand for Ollie or you to stay at a motel. You can either stay with Ronan, or you can come home with us,” Kieran says. How are those my only two choices?
“They’re staying with me.”
“That’s Colton’s choice, Ronan.” Kieran cocks his head at Ronan.
“No, it’s not.”
“Yes, it is, Ronan,” I say to try to stop this back and forth. Yes, he is my boss now, but that doesn’t mean he gets to order me around. This whole day, everyone else has been making decisions for Ollie and me, and it is getting on my last nerve.
“I’ll be right back.” That’s all Ronan says as he leaves the room. Kieran just nods at me and leaves as well. I’m now alone in the office. I sit back down at my new company-issued computer and start working on the code for the center. I need to keep this job, so I get back to work.
An hour later, Ronan is back. He doesn’t tell me where he went, and I don’t ask. The code error is simple enough to fix, but I run through it again to make sure it’s working. I check the time, and it’s a little after five.
“I’m done with the center’s security fix. Is there anything else you want me to do today before I leave?”
“No.” Short and not so sweet as usual. I gather my things, thankful I brought my messenger bag.
“What time do you want me here tomorrow?”
“Eight.”
These one-word answers are really starting to piss me off.
Why is he behaving like this? Not that he talks much to begin with, but it is more than what he is giving me now.
Fuck it, tomorrow is another day. Hopefully, Ronan will be over whatever mood this is.
I leave the office and head to the conference room to get Ollie.
I hear his giggles before I even reach the door.
“Rawr!” Xavier yells with his hands up, pretending to be claws.
Ollie screams and throws a ball at his head.
Xavier is in the ball pit with Ollie. I step beside Declan and watch the two play.
Declan is intimidating as hell. I’m not really a small guy, just average in every way possible, but I feel tiny next to this guy.
It’s not just physical, either; his demeanor gives off the “don’t fuck with me” vibe hard.
But when he looks at Xavier, there’s something soft in his expression.
I wonder what it would be like to have someone look at me like that, to care that much about me and my well-being.
I shake that thought away. I don’t have time for a relationship right now.
I have to keep Ollie safe. Besides, it wouldn’t be fair to drag someone into the shit show that is my life.
“It’s time to go, buddy,” I say as I walk up to the play area.
Usually, when I’m close to Ollie, he runs up to get into my arms, but not this time.
His little nose scrunches up, and he turns sideways away from me.
“Come on, Ollie, we need to eat, and then it’s bath time.
” I try to coax him, but he pushes his little body farther into the balls.
“I’ll get him for you.” Xavier smiles as he roars at Ollie before scooping him up. Ollie’s laughter fills the room until he realizes that he is being taken out of the ball pit. I didn’t realize that Ollie could hit that octave. I take him and try to calm him down.
“What’s going on?” Ronan asks from the doorway.
“Ollie doesn’t want to leave. Not that I can blame him. I had a blast playing with him. I get to babysit him some tomorrow.”
Where Xavier is all smiles and happiness, Ronan is frowning and grumpy. He has already proven that he doesn’t like babies and thinks they are gross. Hell, he didn’t want to touch Ollie. That’s another reason it is laughable that he would want us in his space.
Ollie is really being a brat. He is leaning back, making it hard for me to hold on to him.
He’s tired, and it’s showing, but like all toddlers, he isn’t about to give in.
I shift him several times, trying like hell not to drop him.
Suddenly, his weight is gone from my arms, and I have a second of panic, but I realize that Ronan has taken him from me.
“Hey, stop that. We are going home to eat and take a bath,” Ronan says to Ollie. To my shock and amazement, Ollie calms down. He still has tears running down his little chubby cheeks, but he is no longer fighting. Ronan hands him back to me, and Ollie puts his head on my shoulder.
“Wow, he listened to you. Thanks.”
“Let’s go,” Ronan says and turns to walk out of the room. I grab Ollie’s diaper bag and, after telling Xavier bye, I follow Ronan.
At the elevator, Ronan takes the diaper bag from me. The elevator goes straight to the parking garage. I step out as soon as the doors open and realize that we are not on the floor where I parked my car this morning. I need to go back up two levels.
“I’ll see you in the morning,” I say, stepping back in. Ronan throws his hand out to stop the door from shutting.
“Where are you going?”
“My car is parked on the main level.”
“The car seat is already in my car, and your stuff has been moved.”
I shake my head and follow him to a Mercedes G-Wagon parked near the elevator.
He opens the rear door, and sure enough, Ollie’s car seat is in the middle of the back seat.
I buckle him in and grab his old teddy bear out of the diaper bag.
I bought it for him when he was first born, and he never gets too far from it.
Ollie smiles at me. I can survive anything if it means keeping him safe.
I stand back up. Ronan shuts the rear door and then opens the passenger door for me.
I slide into the seat and wait for Ronan to get in.
“I’m sure you really don’t want Ollie and me in your space. The motel we’re in is fine for now. I’ve already paid for the next week, so we can just stay there for now.”
“It’s fine. Besides, I already had your stuff moved to my apartment and got you a refund. My place is safer for you both.”
I know he means safer from the immediate danger. The motel we are staying in is not exactly the Ritz. But I can’t stop myself from thinking it also means safer from everything we ran from in the first place.
I have trackers on both my parents’ phones, and I check them constantly, even though I doubt they’ll be the ones sent after us. I couldn’t get close enough to anyone else’s phone before I left.
“You’re very presumptuous with all of this,” I say. “The question is why.”
“It’s what’s best for you.”
I let out a disbelieving laugh.
“See, that just proves my point. You keep assuming you know what’s best for us.”
I automatically glance at Ollie in his car seat.
“I can take care of Ollie and me just fine.” Because I have been. For almost a year now, it’s been me. Only me. I know I told myself I should just go along with Ronan for now, take the help, stop fighting every single thing. But this is getting out of hand.
“I’m not saying that you can’t. What I’m saying is that you need a better place to stay, and I have one. It’s practical and makes sense.”
“To you maybe,” I mumble.
“Da, eat eat,” Ollie yells from the back seat.
“Okay, buddy. We’ll eat in just a little bit. How about some fishies as a snack?” I pull out the Ziploc bag of Goldfish crackers for him. We are in a fucking two-hundred-thousand-dollar car. I can’t give these crumb producers to Ollie.
“Ishies!” Ollie cries out and kicks his feet. I can’t let him eat these in this car. “Ishies!”
“Why are you not giving them to him? He’s going to start crying any second now.”
“It’ll make a mess. Maybe I can just give him one at a time.” I say as I hand him a single cracker. He shoves it into his mouth and immediately holds his hand out for another. We stop at a red light, and Ronan turns to me.
“Do you usually just hand him the bag?” I nod as I take out another single cracker. Ronan takes the bag from my hand and gives it to Ollie.
“What the fuck, Ronan? He’s going to get crumbs everywhere.” I reach to take the bag back.
“Then I’ll get the fucking thing cleaned.” He grips my elbow and turns me back around in my seat. “It’s fine.” He takes out his phone and quickly types something in it, finishing just as the light turns green.
“You don’t seem like the type to be okay with crumbs and gooey half-chewed crackers on your seats. I seem to remember you as the guy who looked terrified to have a toddler sitting on your lap. Something about him being covered in spit.”
“I didn’t say I was going to touch it or clean it.”
I have to laugh. “You’re crazy, you know that, right?”
“Certifiable.” He deadpans. I can’t stop myself from laughing again, even if I try. He is so serious all the time, and yet his humor is hilarious. I have always enjoyed dry humor where the joke hits you hard and is delivered with a straight face.
We drive in silence for a few more minutes, Ollie’s happy babbling filling the car. It’s another thing I like about Ronan. He doesn’t talk just to fill the space. He doesn’t force conversation or act like silence is something uncomfortable that needs to be fixed. With him, it’s easy.
By the time we pull up to the building, I’m almost relaxed.
Almost.
The building towers over the others around it, all glass and steel and clean, sharp lines. It stands out from the surrounding buildings with their brick fronts and older stonework. This place practically screams money. Power too.
The ground floor is lined with expensive-looking shops and a café with giant windows and people sitting outside drinking drinks that probably cost more than an entire meal should. Because apparently rich people can’t survive without their triple-foam, caramel, whatever-the-hell macchiatos.
Ronan pulls into a parking spot that is marked reserved.
We are surrounded by cars worth more than I will ever make in two to three years working eighty hours a week.
I suddenly become painfully aware of my worn jeans, my scuffed shoes, and the spit-up stain on Ollie’s shirt.
I grab a couple of wet wipes from my bag before getting out of the car.
I want to clean as much of Ollie’s mess as I can before it dries or gets ground into the leather seat seams.
When I open the rear door, it is worse than I thought. Ollie has decided that it is a good idea to dump the bag into his lap. Oh, the joys of a one-year-old. I start picking up what is left of the Goldfish and put them back into the bag.
“Just grab the baby and leave that to Chuck.” I look back over my shoulder at Ronan.
“Chuck?”
“Yeah, Chuck. That sort of thing is what he gets paid to do.” He throws his thumb over his shoulder to point at a guy behind him. He is pushing a cart toward us, loaded with cleaning supplies.
“You have a car cleaner on staff?” I ask, and Ronan just shrugs.
How is this my life all of a sudden? I grab Ollie, who automatically reaches for Ronan.
I try to shift him onto my other hip, farther away from Ronan.
This only causes Ollie to squirm even more.
Ronan looks at Ollie’s outstretched hands — his clean hands.
The way he studies Ollie, you would think he is trying to solve quantum physics. Then he moves to take him from me.
“Oh, you don’t have to carry him.” Ollie settles against Ronan immediately, like he belongs there.
“Well, one of us does. Have you seen him walk? It would take all night to get inside. He has very short legs.”