Chapter 12 Phantom
PHANTOM
“Jax! Come inside a sec,” I shout through the patio doors, relieved to see the kids all wearing their life vests. I’m happy to see they are not only getting along, but they’re doing the right thing while they’re outside on the channel.
Jax bounces across the lawn, his longish brown hair flopping over his eyes. “Hey,” he says, looking worried. “Is my mom okay?”
“She’s great,” I assure him. “I’m going to send some guys over to check on your house and grab some things for your mom.
You cool staying here until your mom’s better?
I’ll get you to school tomorrow, so backpack, clothes, whatever you’re going to want.
” I hold up my phone. “If they missed anything when they brought over your stuff, tell me what’s missing, and I’ll get it. ”
Jax describes his backpack and the clothes he wants. I shoot off a text to Savage and ask the prospects to give me updates on the cleanup.
“Phantom?” When I look up from my phone, Jax is standing a few feet away. He looks like he wants to go back outside, but his feet are stuck in place.
“What’s up?” I ask.
Jax doesn’t say anything at first, but then he crosses the living room. “Are you my mom’s boyfriend now?”
The question takes me by surprise. I don’t know what to say. “Does she have another one?”
Jax shakes his head. “She’s never had one. Not that I ever knew about.” He’s quiet again, but he’s biting his lip and picking at his fingernails.
“Hey.” I lower a brow at him. “You got something on your mind, I’m all ears.”
Jax shrugs. “Mom is just… I don’t know. She’s always so tired. She doesn’t seem tired around you. She seems happy.”
I nod. “She’s had a hard run. It’s not easy raising kids, working a job. I get that. Sometimes being an adult is shit, plain and simple. But she loves you, and I think she loves what she does. A little rest here will do her good. Yeah?”
Jax nods, but then he comes up close to me. He’s a skinny kid. Tall, with lightly tanned skin and the same wide brown eyes as his mom. “Thank you for taking care of her. No one ever does. She won’t let me and…” He trails off. “Just thank you.”
An unexpected tightness grips my chest. Sometimes I forget how much of what we’re going through affects our kids.
I reach out and clamp a hand on Jax’s shoulder.
“You’re a good kid, but remember, you’re a kid.
It’s not your job to take care of your mom.
” As I say the words, I realize this is the same song and dance I’ve been giving Holly and Daisy.
Same issues, different parents. Somehow, the shit is more relatable than I want it to be.
I jerk a thumb, motioning for him to go back outside. “Go on,” I tell him. “Before the girls kayak down the channel without you.”
He nods, but before he leaves, he gives me a huge smile. Then he takes off running toward the backyard.
My next call is to my lawyer. “Hey,” I tell him, knowing he’s got me on caller ID. I wouldn’t call on a Sunday—and he wouldn’t answer—if it weren’t important.
“What?” he asks, getting right to the point.
“There was a break-in last night. Nothing stolen, though.”
I hear him suck air. “Your place? The compound? You make a report?”
“The woman who owns the salon. Poppy.” If Shayla is behind this, her motivation could either be jealousy or revenge. I’m not taking any chances. “We were out together with our kids when it happened.”
I listen as my lawyer tells me exactly what he needs.
“Got it,” I say. “On it.”
We end the call, and I text Savage.
Me: Upstairs in the kid’s room. Get his backpack, everything you can see that he’d need to draw, and a bunch of clothes. Bring it all.
Savage: I’m there now. Had to bring in the girls. There’s too much here for the jackass prospects to clean. Stella’s in charge.
Whatever it takes.
Me: Good call. And the other thing?
Savage: Tiny complication. Viper handled it.
Me: Hospital?
Savage: The other guy. Shattered ribs and a black eye. Nothing permanent. Message sent. Next run should go smooth.
I don’t reply. I hate that I can’t be there myself. I gave the order for Viper to handle the shitheads trying to horn in on the deal we worked with Elliott. But it should have been me—my knuckles, my fists.
Savage: Jizz has been dealt with.
I like the text but don’t reply. It’s what we do. Deal with problems. Sweep up messes. Keep our house neat because our business can get dirty.
I rub my eyes and head into the kitchen. I take out my frustration on some carrots and celery. If Poppy’s going to get better, she’s going to need some soup. If I expect her to stay here, she’s also going to need the truth.
The room is dark and quiet. I hear the soft sounds of Poppy breathing and rustling under the covers.
“Phantom?” Her voice is weak and thin.
“Hey.” I set the tray I’m carrying on my bedside table and open the drapes just a crack to let in some light. “I brought lunch.”
I head over to the bed and help Poppy sit up, fluffing some pillows behind her.
“You brought me soup?” she asks quietly.
“It’s the only thing I can cook,” I chuckle. “The kids make pancakes and all that shit, but I’ve got one trick. This is it. Chicken noodle soup.”
She takes a deep breath then covers her mouth and coughs. “Sorry,” she rasps. “It smells amazing.”
I sit on the side of the bed and put the tray on her lap. “Eat,” I tell her. “Then rest. I got my brothers bringing over Jax’s clothes and backpack. I asked them to update me on the cleanup and to bring whatever they could for you—clothes, hairbrush, whatever.”
She sets the spoon down on the tray and shakes her head. Even sick, her deep brown eyes glassy and her cheeks flushed, she is fucking beautiful. I watch her draw her lower lip into her mouth and sigh. “You don’t have to do all this,” she says. “I’m going to get you sick staying here.”
I shake my head. “My immune system’s like a rock,” I tell her. My guts churn, and I realize I’m feeling fucking nervous. Me. Nervous. I push past it because there’s no other way to do this. “After you’ve been to prison a couple times, you’re around so much shit, you toughen up pretty quick.”
I meet her eyes.
“At least, I did.”
She considers what I said, but she doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t look horrified. “Can I ask what happened?”
I lace my fingers together and crack my knuckles. “When I was younger, I didn’t have the same discretion I’ve got now. A couple of fights got out of hand. Assault, public intoxication. Stupid shit when I was careless.”
She sips the tea I brought her. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Not exactly first-date information. But you’re in my house, in my bed.
You should know what there is to know.” I know being honest with her could drive her away.
Make a woman like this get up and run for the hills.
Her ma’s in local government, for fuck’s sake.
I don’t know how much Mama’s going to like her baby dating an ex-con.
“Is there more I should know?” she asks, her voice raspy. “Because I’ve seen a lot, and I have a few opinions of my own. But if there’s more you want to share…”
I shake my head. “You got the highlights.”
She takes another spoonful of soup. “My God, Phantom. This is good, and it’s not just because I’m sick.” She leans back against the pillows and sighs. “I’m glad you told me. There’s something I think you should know.”
I brace for whatever’s coming. I can take it.
I’ve been insulted. Called a criminal or worse.
Called worthless by the people who were supposed to love me.
Fuck, Shayla’s favorite nickname for me is loser.
Whatever Poppy thinks, it can’t be anything I haven’t heard before.
So why am I tensing up like I’m bracing for a punch that I know is going to hurt?
“Lay it on me,” I say.
Her eyes are closed, but there’s a smile on her lips. “You’re gorgeous,” she says. “And funny. You’ve been gentle with me and nothing but perfect with my son. Your daughters adore you, and I haven’t seen you do anything but the right thing since I met you.”
“Go back to the first thing.” I scoot closer and put my hand on her knee. Even though the blankets separate my skin from hers, I need to touch her right now. Need to feel her close to me. “Gorgeous. More about that.”
“Mmmmm,’” she moans and laughs softly, which is quickly followed up by a wicked cough. “Sorry,” she croaks.
I smooth the hair back from her face and pour out another dose of flu meds. “Drink this so you can go back to telling me how sexy you think I am.”
“I didn’t say sexy, but…” She swallows the meds and washes them down with water. “God, you are. If I weren’t sick right now…”
I move close and rest the back of my wrist against her forehead. “You’re not burning up again, so you’re not delirious. You know what you’re saying. I’m going to want you to finish that sentence.”
“I will,” she murmurs and then drifts back into sleep.
Poppy sleeps through Sunday afternoon. Daisy makes dinner for us, and I try to bring Poppy a burger, but she’s snoring and looks too peaceful to wake.
Savage brought over a bunch of things from Poppy’s house, and Holly spent the afternoon washing Jax’s school clothes along with the girls’. Turns out that Jax’s elementary school is right across the street from Daisy’s junior high. Dropping everybody off in the morning will be no big deal.
After dinner, I do the dishes while Holly crams for a math exam in her room, and Jax and Daisy work on a comic book at the kitchen table.
I’m sitting on the patio staring off at the blue water of the channel when my phone rings. I set my beer down and swipe the touchscreen.
“What?” I ask.
Savage is on the other line. “We got something.”
I listen as he fills me in. It’s a rumor, but if we can confirm what he’s saying is true, I might just have the evidence I need to prove Shayla was behind the break-in at Poppy’s.
“Get me a name,” I bark.
“Phantom.” Savage says it quietly, but there’s no mistaking the warning in his voice.