42. Riley
42
RILEY
“ G uess what!” Aurora announces as she bounces into the kitchen a short while later. Logan and Royce are already there, and Logan immediately scoops her up, throwing her into the air and making her squeal in delight.
“What?” he enquires. He tries to settle her on his hip but she squirms to get down, grinning like it’s Christmas morning as she bounces over to Grayson. She’s barely left his side since I told her he’s her brother.
I’d been half asleep, refusing to admit it was time to get up when I heard their whispered conversation.
It broke my heart, listening to them bond over their shithead of a father—albeit on two very different levels. If scaring her and not playing with my daughter is the worst Bertram did to her, then I can live with that.
May she never know the horrors I’ve faced at that man’s hands.
Still, it made it clear to me just how much they needed one another, even if Aurora didn’t know it yet.
The excitement when I told her…
The sheen in Grayson’s eyes…
It’s a moment I’ll never forget.
“Gayson’s my brother!”
Except, she can’t say brother so it comes out more like brov-er, and the entire sentence is just adorable! Including the way Grayson’s chest swells with pride.
“He is?!” Logan exclaims, his grin broad and genuine. “Well, this is cause for a celebration. How about pancakes?”
“And milkshake?” Aurora enquires because, yes, Logan has gotten my daughter addicted to strawberry milk.
“Obviously. No celebration is complete without milkshakes with extra cream and chocolate sprinkles.”
“Yes!” Aurora throws her tiny fist in the air, abandoning Grayson’s side in favor of the promise of sugar.
While Logan gets her to help him with breakfast, Royce strides over to clap Grayson on the shoulder. Nothing is said, but the two of them share a loaded glance.
“Can I eat in front of the TV, Mommy?” Aurora asks, precariously carrying her plastic plate of maple syrup-covered pancakes.
“Sure, baby.” Bringing over her milkshake, I settle her in front of the TV with a cartoon program before returning to the kitchen. “However, remember, we have to get dressed soon. Today’s your first day of daycare, and we can’t be late.”
I’m fairly certain she’s not paying attention, too engrossed in her cartoons as I leave her to it.
“You ready to go back to class?” Logan asks when I sit down at the kitchen table with them. “You can take another day or two if you need it?”
I give him a soft smile. “I’m fine, Logan. I’m ready to get back to a normal routine.” My gaze slides to Grayson. “Your dad is still in hospital?”
He nods, sipping on his coffee. “Yup. They’ve had him in a medically induced coma while he’s intubated. He’s not going anywhere, Tempest.”
I ask for an update on Bertram every day, and every day, the relief at hearing he’s still there is lifting.
Between mouthfuls of food, I tell the guys, “I think he did something to Lydia.” I don’t honestly care, but I’m curious to get their perspectives. Is she dead like Bertram implied, in which case I never have to worry about her bothering us again, or is she really on some island in Europe, where she can just pop on a plane and return at any time?
All three of them stop mid-chew to look at me.
“Uh, baby,” Logan hedges.
“She and David are dead,” Royce states, laying it all out there.
“We found their bodies,” Grayson adds. Logan makes a gagging emotion before dropping his fork to his plate and pushing it away.
“Thanks for that reminder, man. Just what I needed—skipping breakfast before a practice session. Real cool.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, ignoring Logan’s antics.
“After Bertram… took you both,” Royce hedges, “We went to the apartment we found Aurora in case he took you both there. Obviously, you weren’t there, but Lydia and David were.”
My eyes go wide. “So they really are dead.”
“Deader than dead,” Logan deadpans. “You ain’t ever getting their stench out of the apartment.”
I have no idea what he’s talking about, but it feels good to know Lydia is gone.
“Good,” I say, picking up my fork and continuing with my breakfast.
The guys all share a glance, but that’s the end of the conversation. None of us care to spend any more time discussing the heinous bitch that was Lydia.
A wall of muscle is at my back as I bend down to give my daughter a hug and a final pep talk. “You’re going to have the best time and make so many friends.”
“But no boys,” Grayson interjects.
Sighing, I pray for patience. Dropping Aurora off for her first day of daycare should be straightforward, but with all three of them in tow, it has turned into a full-blown operation—one that has drawn the eye of every other parent here.
“You can be friends with whoever you like,” I tell Aurora, ignoring Grayson altogether. Emotion churns in my chest as I pull her in for a tight hug. “You remember the most important thing?”
“To have fun.” Her words are muffled against my chest, and I smile as I pull her back, holding onto her arms as I give her a big, reassuring smile. “Go on,” I urge. “Go play.”
Loud sniffling behind me has me looking over my shoulder as my daughter skips away, not a second's hesitation as she makes a beeline for the play mat where a bunch of toys have been set out. His eyes glisten with unshed tears. “She’s just so... brave,” he says, his voice trembling.
“Logan, it’s daycare, not boot camp.” It’s a struggle to keep the humor from my tone. He’s as dramatic as Aurora—worse, maybe. The two of them definitely rub off on one another. I can only imagine the hysterics when Aurora hits her teenage years.
“Who’s that kid? He looks like trouble,” Grayson grumbles. Following the line of his suspicious glare, I find Aurora talking to a little boy. He holds out a red firetruck for her to play with, and when she accepts it, he sits beside her.
“He just sat down beside her!” He sounds so ridiculously outraged. I can’t decide if his brooding protector shtick is entertaining or migraine-inducing.
“He’s a kid ,” I remind him, because he seems to have forgotten that.
“Yeah, he’s a kid now, but one day he’s going to be all grown up with a chip on his shoulder and a cocky swagger.”
“Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize he was your kid.”
That glare of his swings my way. “Har har.”
I merely smile sweetly up at him.
“That’s my big brother!” Aurora’s sweet voice carries over to us, and while still maintaining his glare, Grayson stretches to his full height, chest puffing outward. The little boy Aurora was chatting with takes one look at him before whipping his gaze away so fast I’m surprised he doesn’t snap his neck.
Annnnd now we’re terrifying the children.
“Grayson,” I hiss, smacking him in the chest with the back of my hand.
“Finally,” Royce grouses. The next second, he’s striding away, and I whirl in time to watch him stride up to the teacher. Oh my god, I’m never bringing any of them ever again. It’ll be a miracle if Aurora isn’t kicked out before drop-off is even over.
“Ms. Evelyn,” I hear him saying. His superior height makes him tower over the poor five-foot-three woman, and his tattoos are on full display, intimidating every other parent in the room. I don’t even want to know what the teacher thinks of our crazy family. I’m on the verge of disowning three-fifths of us anyway.
“I want to know that a close eye will always be kept on Aurora. No leaving the room without an adult.” Okay, well, at least he’s just doing his due diligence. Understandable, given everything.
I miss the teacher’s response, and I groan when I next tune in to what Royce is saying. “Now, she doesn’t like the crusts of her bread. They need to be cut off. And she prefers squares to triangles. For nap time, it?—”
I clamp a hand on Royce’s arm, giving him a tight smile as I scream at him with my eyes to shut up . “We have taken up enough of the woman’s time,” I hiss before turning to Ms. Evelyn. I really hope my smile is less crazed looking as I say, “Ms. Evelyn, thank you. I’m sure Aurora will be just fine in your care.”
With a glance between us, Ms. Evelyn smiles before walking off, and I cast a quick look in Aurora’s direction. Unfazed by the commotion we’re causing, she has moved on to exploring the room. Spotting a table with colorful blocks, she sits down and begins playing with them.
My heart swells with pride and a touch of sadness. My little girl is growing up. Still holding her little backpack, I move to the wall of coats and bags. Her name is already written on a peg, and I set her backpack on the bench beneath it.
“Time to go,” I hiss at the others when I’m done.
Grayson frowns. “I dunno…”
“Grayson.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “This is a daycare. The entire point is that we leave her here while we go to work and class.”
“The teacher assured me she’d call at lunch,” Royce reassures him, glaring fiercely around the room.
“Oh my god, please tell me you didn’t.” I throw my hands in the air before whirling to find Logan. He’s still watching Aurora. In fact, I’m certain he’s inched closer, and looking at his face, I can tell he’s two seconds from pulling out a chair and joining her at the table.
“Logan,” I bark, keeping my voice low and a smile plastered on my face for the sake of the children and other parents present. “We’re leaving.”
His head whips toward mine. “Already?”
How are they not grasping this concept?!
“Yes. I thought you had class at nine?”
He waves a dismissive hand. “I can grab the notes from someone.”
“Or you could just go to the class.” I stalk toward him. “I assure you, you cannot hang out here all day.”
He gapes at me in outrage as though how dare I suggest he can’t do that. “Says who?”
“The teacher, for one, if we don’t leave soon. Probably the other parents when they find some weirdo is playing with their kids all day. Your teachers and Coach when you inevitably don’t show up for class or practice.” Affronted, he grunts at me.
Rolling my eyes, I give him a playful nudge. “She’ll be okay. She needs to make her own friends.” He makes a noise of disagreement. And in some miraculous feat, I manage to wrangle them all out the door.
“Hey!” At the sound of Aurora’s voice, we all whirl.
“What is it, Pumpkin?” Logan’s voice is filled with concern as he crouches, and she immediately runs into his arms.
“You didn’t say bye!”
“I’m sorry, boo.”
Burying her face in his shoulder, she wraps her tiny arms around his neck, squeezing tightly. After a moment, she stretches out an arm, making grabby hands. “Gayson. Ro.”
Despite the nonsense that has been this entire ordeal, it is an incredibly sweet moment, the three of them blocking the entire hallway as they crowd in for a hug. Aurora mastered the art of wrapping them around her finger in less than a week. The girl deserves an award. They are absolute suckers for her.
Eventually, she wiggles to get down, before skipping away. “Bye, Gayson. Bye, Lo. Bye, Ro.” Reaching the door to her classroom, she waves, and just before she disappears, she tacks on, “Bye, Mommy.”
Well, better an afterthought than completely forgotten, right?
“Can we please go now?” I grouse.
“Awww.” Logan fake pouts at me as he drapes his arm over my shoulder, and we walk out of the daycare. “Someone’s just salty because they were nearly forgotten.”
“I am not.”
He gives me a knowing look, and I accidentally jam my elbow in his ribs.
Outside, I take a deep breath, feeling the weight lift from my shoulders. “She’s going to be just fine,” I say, more to myself than anyone else.
Grayson moves to my other side, Royce at my back. “She’s got this,” he assures. “Besides, if anyone gives her any hassle, we’ll soon sort them out.”
That’s not the ringing endorsement he thinks it is.