Chapter Twenty-two
Grant’s knuckles rapped against the weathered mahogany door. When Maddie swung it open, her eyes were like shards of ice. “What now, Grant?” she snapped, arms crossed as if to shield herself from the blustery wind that followed him inside.
“I’m done with the games, Maddie,” he said, voice steady but loaded, like a gun primed to fire. “It’s got to stop—the kids are caught in the middle.”
“Games?” Maddie echoed, a mocking lilt in her voice as she tossed her hair, a wild mane of curls that seemed to match her untamed spirit. “Do you think I’m playing? You know I don’t fall for that shit. What do you want?”
Grant pushed his way inside.
“Ruthie wants to spend December skiing with Lola. I thought it was a good idea, so you need to hand over some cash,” Maddie retorted. Her hands flew to her hips, and her posture screamed defiance.
“You get plenty of money from me, Maddie, plus a place to live. If you can’t manage Ruthie’s outings with what you get every month, that’s just too bad.”
Grant went to the kitchen and removed a can of soda from the refrigerator. He pulled the tab, the hiss from the soda the only sound in the room. Maddie trailed behind him.
“How dare you just walk in and make yourself at home,” she shrieked.
Grant took a deep breath. “This is my home, Madeline. Remember?”
She shrugged, her eyes shooting sparks of anger. “How could I forget, you bastard? You remind me of it all the time. Now, get the hell out of here. I’ll make sure to tell Ruthie that you don’t care enough about her to let her go with Lola.”
“Enough!” Grant’s fist hit the wall, a punctuation mark to his boiling point. He didn’t miss the flicker of fear in Maddie’s eyes, quickly smothered by renewed fury.
“Fine!” she screamed. “I’ll take them away from here! Away from you and all your crap!” Her chest heaved, and her eyes sparked with a manic energy. “We’ll leave the country. You can have your house back. See how you like playing games then.”
“Threaten me all you want, Maddie,” Grant said, his voice low and menacing as he leaned in, close enough to see the tremor in her lower lip. “But I won’t let you use the kids as leverage. Not anymore.”
Their faces were inches apart, two forces of nature locked in an inevitable clash. This was more than an argument; it was a declaration of war.
“Pathetic,” Ruthie muttered under her breath, directing the sentiment at neither parent in particular but rather at the entire tableau that unfolded with wearying predictability. “What are you looking at, clown face?” Ruthie said when she saw Adler come out of his room.
“You’re a pizza face,” Adler said, knowing how sensitive Ruthie was since her skin had started breaking out.
“Remind me not to eat when you’re around.
All that pus might make me barf.” Unlike Ruthie, Adler didn’t have the luxury—or curse—of apathy.
His keen blue eyes, so like his father’s, darted between his twin sister and the voices downstairs.
“F off, jerk,” Ruthie spurted out.
“Your potty mouth only enhances your ugly zit face, Ruth. I guess I’m the lucky twin in that respect. You got all the zit genes.” He laughed, then headed downstairs so he could see his dad and hopefully stop his mother from screaming.
“Yep, but I also have the guts that you don’t, creep,” Ruthie said, her voice filled with hatred.
“You’re so gross,” Adler said as he walked past her.
“Mom doesn’t like you, Adler,” Ruthie shouted at his back. “That’s why they’re divorced.”
Adler turned around and shot back, “He left because of her.” It wasn’t just his mother’s antics he had watched over the years; it was the shifts in his father’s demeanor, the weariness in his eyes that spoke of defeat rather than abandonment.
It was enough to convince Adler that if given the chance to go live with Dad, he’d jump on it.
“I’ve remarried, Maddie,” Grant said. “And we’re expecting a baby in four months.”
Adler stopped in his tracks when he heard his father’s words.
For a moment, there was nothing—no sound, no movement, as if the world itself had inhaled sharply and was holding its breath. Then, the facade of calm shattered like glass under a hammer.
Maddie’s face contorted, eyes flashing a dangerous spark as her voice crescendoed into hysteria. “Expecting a baby? With what woman?” She spat out the last word as if it were poison. “You think you can just replace us, start a new family, forget about your children?”
Grant sensed the shift in her before it fully manifested, the way a sailor might feel the stirrings of a storm on the horizon.
He braced himself. “I want you to think about another place to live. My wife and I may relocate shortly.” He would sell the house and purchase another, one without any negative history.
“You can’t do this to me, you jerk. I swear, if you try and kick me and your kids out of our home, your new whore will have hell to pay. I will find her, and I promise when I’m finished with her, she won’t be pregnant.”
“Your threats don’t scare me,” Grant said, his voice stern.
“Don’t be too cocky,” Maddie seethed, her hands clenching and unclenching. “Oh, I will find her, Grant. And when I do, both of you will be sorry.”
Adler, who had been watching from the top of the stairs, felt a cold shiver trace its way down his spine.
His mother’s rage was a force unto itself, one that could sweep up everything in its path.
Ruthie might have tuned out their parents’ battles, but Adler knew better than to underestimate the storm that was his mother’s fury.
Grant held his ground, the chill of resolve icing over his features as Maddie’s tirade echoed off the high ceilings of the Connecticut home they once shared. He watched her chest heave with each breath, her hands trembling with anger.
“You’re insane, Maddie,” Grant said quietly, his voice a stark contrast to her shrillness.
He took a step closer, his eyes never leaving hers, searching for any sliver of the woman who had been his partner, the mother of his children.
“You wanted this divorce as much as I did. Remember? We agreed it was best—for us and the kids.”
Maddie recoiled as if struck, her lips parting in disbelief. “I never wanted it!” she snapped back. “You forced me into this corner, Grant. You and your cold-hearted ways!”
He could see it then—the desperation unfurling in her like a flag of war. It wasn’t just about their past, their failed marriage, or even his new life. It was a battle for control, one Maddie refused to lose.
“Is that what you tell yourself at night?” Grant asked, keeping his tone even despite the acid churning in his gut. “To sleep better?”
“Sleep?” A bitter laugh escaped her, contorting into another threat. “Oh, you’ll have sleepless nights soon enough, Grant. Believe me.” The malice in her voice was unmistakable, a venomous dart aimed squarely at the heart of his newfound happiness.
Adler continued to watch from the shadows, his young mind wrestling with a conflict far beyond his years.
His mother’s words were daggers, and he could feel their sharpness as keenly as if they were pointed at him.
He knew there would be no peace until his dad agreed to do what she wanted.
He always gave in and let her have her way.
“Dad!” Adler called out, his voice laced with desperation. Grant turned back to see his son’s wide, hopeful eyes fixed on him. “Please, can I come with you?”
Maddie turned to her son. “You aren’t going anywhere with this screw-up,” she screamed.
Grant tried to speak as calmly as he could. “Of course, buddy. “You can always—”
Maddie’s screech cut through the room like a siren, her face contorted into an unrecognizable mask of fury. “You will not take him from me!” she spat, her hands clenching into fists at her sides.
“Mom, please—” Adler’s plea was cut short as Maddie’s hand struck across his cheek, the sound a sharp crack.
Adler stumbled, unable to withstand the force of his mother’s irrational rage. His head connected with the glass table’s corner with a sickening thud, and he collapsed onto the floor, silent and still, blood spilling from his head.
For a moment, time stopped, the world reduced to the echo of the impact and the sight of his son lying motionless. Then instinct kicked in, and Grant was moving before he fully registered what had happened.
“Adler!” He was at his son’s side in an instant, one hand cradling the boy’s head, the other fishing for his cell phone. His fingers fumbled, but the urgency of the situation lent them speed.
“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?” came the operator’s voice.
“My son—he’s been hurt. He hit his head; he’s not moving. We need an ambulance,” Grant said, his voice steady but laced with an undercurrent of panic.
“Stay on the line, sir. Help is on the way,” the operator assured him. As Grant relayed the address, his gaze never left Adler, willing his son to show any sign of consciousness.
“Please,” he whispered, not sure if it was to Adler or a higher power. “Hang on, son.”
Thankfully it wasn’t long—although it felt like an eternity—before the paramedics burst into the living room. As they knelt beside Adler, checking his vitals and preparing him for transport, Grant rose to his feet, his eyes locking with Maddie’s.
“You’ve crossed a line, Maddie,” he said, voice low and trembling with suppressed rage. “Assaulting our son? That’s child abuse.”
Her lips parted, but no sound came out—only a stupefied breath that seemed to acknowledge the gravity of her actions.
“I’m having you arrested, Maddie.” Grant’s declaration was resolute, his protective instincts fortifying his resolve. “You’re not going to hurt him—or me—ever again.”
The paramedics maneuvered the stretcher toward the door, and Grant followed, leaving Maddie standing alone, the reality of her situation settling around her like a thick fog.
Grant’s hands trembled as he started his car and followed the ambulance, breaking all speed limits, to get to the hospital, to get to Adler.