Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Amelia
Maddox: I forgot to send this the other day.
Maddox’s text pops up beneath the video he just sent, but I’m already transfixed by the image of Dylan on Bluebell. His smile—God, I haven’t seen him smile like that in months. Maybe even years.
I hit replay, watching my son’s hands confidently holding the reins, his back straight, his face a picture of concentration that breaks into pure joy when Maddox’s voice calls out encouragement from behind the camera.
I play it a third time, my heart swelling in that painful way that only happens when you witness your child discovering something that lights them up from within.
After Saturday’s lesson, Dylan wouldn’t stop talking.
Words tumbled out of him during the entire drive home and throughout dinner.
Details about Bluebell’s personality, Maddox’s instructions, how it felt to trot for the first time.
My usually grumpy and quiet pre-teen, suddenly had diarrhea of the mouth.
The next morning, he was up early and helped me cook breakfast. We were just sitting down to eat when he dropped a bomb.
“He likes you. A lot. You should give him a chance. He’s a really cool guy, Mom.”
I stare at my phone screen, now dark. This is exactly what I’ve been afraid of—Maddox working his charm on Dylan the way he did on me. Creating a connection I can’t easily break. Making himself part of our lives.
But what if it’s okay? What if, for once, I let my guard down? What if I give Maddox the chance Dylan thinks he deserves?
These thoughts occupy my mind while I sit in front of the middle school. When three o’clock strikes, the usual chaotic flood of students streams toward the waiting cars and buses. I scan the crowd for Dylan. Five minutes pass. Then ten. The crowd thins, and my stomach tightens.
Dylan is nowhere in sight.
I park and rush to the front office, my heart beginning to race. “I’m looking for Dylan Cain?”
The secretary gives me a confused look. “His father picked him up about an hour ago. Signed him out early.”
“I didn’t authorize this,” I say, my voice rising. “I have primary custody. He can’t just—”
“I’m sorry, Ms. King. His name is on the approved list.”
I curse myself for never updating it after his last stunt. My hands shake as I call Russell. It goes straight to voicemail. I try again. Same result.
Dylan doesn’t have his phone. The school has a strict no-cellphone policy so Dylan usually just leaves it at home, which means I can’t call him.
I speed to Russell’s apartment, running every yellow light, my knuckles white on the steering wheel. When I get there, there is no sign of his car. I pound on his door, anyway. Nothing.
Back in my car, I call Shadow, my voice cracking as I explain.
“Go home,” he commands. “In case he brings Dylan there. I’ll find him, Amelia. And when I do, I’ll fucking kill him.”
I have no doubt that he’s serious, and unlike all the other times he’s threatened to kill Russell, I don’t try to sway him. We’d all be better off if he just didn’t exist anymore.
The drive to my apartment feels endless. When I turn onto my street, I spot Dylan and Russell sitting on the steps outside our building, and relief crashes over me like a tidal wave.
I’m out of the car in a flash, running to Dylan, checking him over with frantic hands. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine.” Dylan’s face scrunches in confusion. Then he turns to his father. “You said she knew you were picking me up.”
I look at Russell, rage replacing my fear. The son of a bitch has the audacity to shrug.
“Misunderstanding.”
“You bastard,” I scream, not giving a damn who hears me. “How dare you? How dare you take him without telling me? Do you have any idea what you just put me through?”
Tears fill my eyes as I glare at him.
“You scared the fucking hell out of me.”
Dylan stares at his father, anger flitting across his features. “You lied. Mom didn’t know.” He plucks a bag from the steps and throws it at Russell. “Take your stupid video game and shove it.”
The nonchalant expression fades from Russell’s face as he narrows he grabs the bag and narrows his eyes at Dylan. “What did you just say to me?”
“You heard me,” Dylan snaps. “You don’t get to use me to hurt my mom. I never want to see you again.”
“Dylan, go inside,” I order, handing him my keys.
“No, not this time, Mom.”
I look at my son’s face, so determined, so grown-up suddenly. For years I’ve tried to shield him from the ugliness, but Dylan sees Russell clearly now, and its high time I accept that. He doesn’t need my protection from the truth anymore.
“You’re right,” I tell Dylan, placing my hand on his shoulder. “You deserve to witness this.”
I turn back to Russell, whose face has morphed from anger to that smug expression I’ve grown to hate.
“This ends today,” I spit out, my voice vibrating with fury. “I’m filing for an order of protection first thing tomorrow morning. You don’t call him, you don’t text him, you sure as hell don’t pick him up from school. You come within a hundred feet of either of us, and you’ll be arrested.”
Russell laughs. “Good luck with that, babe. No judge is going to keep a father from his son.”
“Try me,” I say, stepping closer. “I’ve documented everything. The missed child support payments. The times you’ve shown up drunk. The manipulative bullshit you pull with Dylan. Every. Single. Thing.”
His smile falters slightly.
“And this little stunt today? Abducting our son from school? That’s the final nail in your coffin.”
“I didn’t abduct anyone,” he snarls. “He’s my fucking son too.”
“Only when it’s convenient or gets you something you want.”
For a moment, I think he might actually lunge at me, and I brace myself. But then something in his eyes changes. He looks at Dylan, then back at me, and I see the calculation happening. He’s not done, but he knows he’s lost this round.
“This isn’t over,” he mutters, backing away toward his car.
“It is over,” I say firmly. “It’s been over for years. You just never got the memo.”
As Russell retreats to his car, Dylan slips his hand into mine and squeezes. We stand there, watching until his taillights disappear around the corner.
“I’m so sorry, baby,” I whisper, pulling him into a hug. “I’m so sorry he did this.”
“It’s not your fault,” Dylan says into my shoulder. “He’s just... he’s just a piece of shit.”
Hearing my son say those words breaks my heart and relieves me at the same time. There’s no more pretending. No more excuses.
“Let’s go inside,” I say, guiding him toward the door. “I need to call Shadow and let him know you’re okay.”
As we climb the stairs to our apartment, Dylan asks, “Did you mean it? About the protection order?”
“Every word,” I answer, unlocking our door. “I should have done it a long time ago.”
Once inside, I text Shadow that Dylan is safe, then sink onto the couch. Dylan sits beside me, his expression serious beyond his years.
“What happens now?” he asks.
I take his hand. “Now we make sure he can’t pull something like this again.
And you...” I pause, thinking about that video of him on Bluebell, his face so carefree and full of joy.
“You keep riding horses if that’s what makes you happy.
Maddox sent me a video earlier. You were amazing. I’m so proud of you.”
A small smile breaks through his worried expression. “Really? I wasn’t sure you’d let me go back after I said that thing about Maddox liking you.”
I squeeze his hand, thinking about the man who somehow managed to bring that smile back to my son’s face. “I think maybe it’s time I give Maddox a chance.”
“I think so too. We can use a good guy in our corner.”
Dylan and I are arguing over what we’re gonna have for dinner when there’s a sharp knock at the door. Dylan jumps, his eyes darting toward the sound.
“It’s okay,” I reassure him. “It’s probably Shadow.”
When I open the door, Shadow strides in with Maddox right behind him.
When I swing the door open, I’m surprised to see not just Shadow but Maddox standing there, their faces grim. Shadow pushes past me, his eyes scanning the apartment until they land on Dylan.
“You okay, kid?” Shadow asks, his voice softer than usual.
Dylan nods, but I can see the tension still lingering in his shoulders.
“Tell me what happened,” Shadow says, lowering himself onto the couch across from Dylan. Maddox remains standing, his eyes locked on me with an intensity that makes my skin warm despite our current situation.
Dylan takes a deep breath. “He came to get me from school early. I asked him if Mom was okay, and he said yeah, that she knew he was coming to get me. I figured she got called into work or something.”
“I fucking hate him,” I interject, unable to stop myself.
Maddox crosses the room and takes a seat next to me, placing a hand on my thigh.
His fingers squeeze gently, and I realize in that moment that one simple gesture from this man has the power to ground me.
Oddly enough, it doesn’t terrify me, and that speaks volumes.
Dylan continues, his voice steady. “He took me for pizza, then to buy that video game he’s been promising for months. He asked what I’ve been up to lately, and I told him about the ranch and the riding lessons.” His eyes flick toward Maddox. “He didn’t like that.”
Before Dylan can elaborate, his phone chimes with a text. He swipes it from the coffee table, glancing at the screen. I hold my breath, thinking it’s Russell again. I should’ve blocked him like Dylan asked.
“It’s one of my friends from school. A new tournament is starting,” he says, looking at me. “Can I go to my room?”
I nod, watching as he disappears down the hall. As soon as his bedroom door clicks shut, Shadow turns to Maddox.
“I don’t like this,” he says, his voice low and dangerous. Then he shifts his gaze to me. “I don’t care what you say, Amelia., I’m going to straighten his ass out once and for all.”