Chapter 42
The house was quiet, too quiet. It mocked me. The shadows lurked around me like judges of the night, standing over me and finding me unworthy.
I curled up on the old bed in my childhood room, the same one with the floral wallpaper and creaky floorboards. The same one Emmie slept in when she stayed over with her grandmother.
It should have felt safe.
It should have felt like refuge.
But it didn’t, no matter how hard I buried my face in the pillow that smelled like my daughter's shampoo and sobbed so no one would hear the noise.
No one could hear me break.
They’d tell. They’d surround. They’d pity.
And then they’d agree that I was too fragile to keep my kids.
I pressed my fists to my mouth to keep the sobs in, because once they broke free, they wouldn’t stop.
All I could hear in the quiet silence of the house was the echo of that woman’s voice as she read my charges like my last rites on the gallows.
Neglect.
Risk.
Abuse.
Unfit.
Each word pounded against my skull until they blurred into one sentence.
They’re going to take your kids.
And then the memories came, uninvited and merciless, assaulting me all over again like I was back in that house, married to my tormentor.
Danny’s voice attacked my mind, like he was in the room with me again.
I remembered a time when his voice was once a noise I fell for, a smooth honey sound that promised me the world, speaking louder than the doubts that everyone else had when we were young and in love.
I loved him with an innocent love that couldn’t fathom how it would ever be anything but sunshine and rainbows and perfect.
I thought I’d get a white picket fence around a house in a sleepy little town, a husband who worked with his hands and came home at the end of the day, with a bouquet of wildflowers and a smile, happy to be home.
That wasn’t at all what I got, though. And I couldn’t even remember how many times I wished I could go back to that day that we left Cedar Bluff, on his motorcycle with just a few changes of clothes with us, so I could run far, far away from him and his lies.
His voice slurred in my ear all over again like he was right here in this very room, his fists pounding the wall around my head.
The sting of his grip on my arms, the way he’d shove me back against the floor when I tried to fight him off.
The nights he staggered into our room, smelling like whiskey and smoke, forcing himself on me no matter how hard I screamed for him to stop.
Begged him for mercy.
I remembered the time he locked the door with Emmie crying in her crib on the other side, forcing me to endure him while I begged to go to my baby.
I could still remember how scared I was when she finally went silent behind that door as he continued to abuse me.
I prayed to the heavens that she simply fell asleep and didn’t choke or suffocate in my absence.
The worst part of it all was how my body remembered him even when I tried to get my mind to forget. It had been over four years, but the panic still curled in my chest, the shadows in my too familiar room made me feel like I was back there, trapped, helpless.
He was a monster that just would not die and leave me alone.
I just wanted him to leave me alone.
Guilt gnawed at me until I could barely breathe, threatening to pull me under completely.
What kind of mother would let this happen?
Again? What kind of mother brought danger back into her children’s lives by daring to be happy?
By daring to want love, want touch, want something more than survival bad enough to risk it?
I risked too much!
I thought about Travis’s steady strength, Eli’s warm smile, the way the kids had laughed in their arms. And it only made the guilt sharper.
They deserved better than me.
The door creaked open softly, and I saw my mom’s tiny silhouette framed in the light from the hallway. Her shoulders were hunched, and I could hear the tears in her voice as she stood there holding an extra blanket in her arms like she wasn’t sure if she should come in.
“Baby,” She whispered, “You don’t have to do this alone.”
I shook my head, curling tighter into myself and rolling over to face the wall. “Yes, I do. I’ll only drag you all down with me. Please, Mom, just—please let me fall apart in peace.”
There was a long pause, and then the blanket was set down on the end of my bed, “I’ll be right downstairs.”
When the door clicked shut again, the silence roared back in her wake, and I buried my face in the pillow, choking on sobs until there was nothing left but emptiness. And still, in the back of my mind, Danny’s voice hissed like a curse.
They’ll see. They’ll see what kind of mother you really are.
Hours passed, darkness mocked me through the window to mix with the darkness in my mind, but still I didn’t get out of bed.
What was the point when all that was left inside of me was despair?
I dreaded the sunrise, another day without my kids, without Travis and Eli.
Even though I spent all day at the police station, filing reports and giving the proof I had of what I did, I still had no hope.
There were times when I felt like the Chief was going to say I believe you, we got it wrong.
But he didn’t. He just kept taking notes and compiling my reports, ending the day with a passing, We’ll be in touch.
Limbo.
Purgatory.
Hell.
That was where I was. Stuck waiting for everyone else to get their shit together so I could go home to my family.
If they still wanted me.
The door creaked behind me again, and I stiffened.
My mom was an angel, but I couldn’t face her.
Coming home four years ago, broken and desolate, had been hard enough on her.
Watching her break for me, feeling my pain in the way only a mother could, was too much for her. I couldn’t hurt her that way again.
A deep voice filled the room, low and steady. “Shade.”
My breath hitched as I turned over, and there he was. Travis. Like I’d conjured him from longing alone, big, broad and steady, filling the doorway like he was built to hold the whole world up.
I sat up fast, clutching the blanket to my chest. “What are you doing here? Are the kids okay?”
“They’re fine,” he said, closing the door behind him, encapsulating us in darkness.
He crossed the room in three strides, crouching at the edge of the bed and gathering my shaking hands in his warm, strong ones.
His eyes were softer than I could stand, because in his softness, I’d crumble.
“I couldn’t let you go another night thinking you’re alone in this. ”
The knot in my throat tightened until I could barely speak, “They need you.”
His hands slid up to cup my cheek, and I selfishly leaned into it, desperate for his touch, “They still have me. I tucked them in, they’re asleep, and Eli is sleeping on the couch outside of their rooms. They’re fine.
” I sobbed again, leaning into him as he went on.
“They laughed today, baby. They ate too many of my mom’s cookies, made Eli referee a hockey game in the living room and brushed their teeth at bedtime.
They’re safe. They’re happy. Because of you. ”
My chest shook as I tried to breathe, “Because of you,” I whispered, “Not me. I’m the reason—”
“No,” His voice sharpened, firm enough to cut through the spiral. “Don’t do that. Don’t give him his victory. You’re their mother. Their anchor. The reason those kids shine the way they do is because of you and your sacrifices. No report, no agent, no son of a bitch can rewrite that truth.”
“Then why don’t they see that!” I cried, falling forward, crashing into him with my fists clutching his shirt. He wrapped me up without hesitation, lifting me onto his lap like I weighed nothing, holding me until the sobs shook free.
We sat there in the dark, the old house creaking around us, his heartbeat steady under my ear.
When the silence finally stretched, he leaned down, whispering against my hair.
“The world just needs to do its due diligence to make sure. We’re going to fight the whole time until they do, though.
All of us, Me, Eli, my parents. Hell, the whole damn town if we have to. You’re not carrying it alone.”
I nodded against him, too broken to argue anymore. For the first time since the papers hit the bar, I felt the smallest thread of hope. Travis was here, and he wasn’t letting go.
He still wanted me.
He never let go, physically or mentally, as he shifted us both up onto the mattress, pulling the blanket up around me like I was something fragile, on the edge of breaking. My head stayed pressed to his chest, his heartbeat steady under my ear, the warmth of his body wrapping around me like armor.
“You should go,” I whispered, though my voice cracked even as I said it. “You should be there when they wake up.”
“I’m right where I need to be, baby.” He murmured, his hand smoothing over my hair, down my back in slow, steady strokes.
“Right here, right now, I’m here with you.
And tomorrow, they’re going to my parent’s house to be carefree kids on a farm, with all the fun they can find there.
But I’m with you, we don’t leave each other behind, Frankie, not anymore. I’m here.”
The tears came again, softer this time, quiet against the fabric of his shirt. He didn’t flinch; he didn’t press me to talk or pull me tighter than I could handle. He just stayed solid and unyielding.
I forced myself to rest. I forced myself to find some solace in his arms long enough to make the noise in my head fall silent.
“Close your eyes, Shade. I’ve got you.”
And I did.
The memories still lurked, the fear still sat heavy in my chest, but with his arms around me, the edges dulled. For once, my body didn’t feel like it belonged to Danny’s shadow. It felt safe. It felt like it was mine.
Somewhere in the quiet hours, sleep finally dragged me under, the last thing I heard was Travis whispering into my hair, words meant more for me than for himself.
“You’re not losing them. You’re not losing us. Not while I’m breathing. I love you too fucking much, Shade.”
And with that promise, I let the darkness take me.