37. Dallas
DALLAS
Something about Duke’s presence brings me peace. He brings calm to the chaos of my life and my mind.
I was feeling good until Matt’s mom texted me and asked if she could pick up the boys for him this Friday. My eyes are puffy from the meltdown I had after reading it. My heart feels like it’s going to crumble inside my chest.
Duke was outside, working the cattle, and he took both the boys with him on the side-by-side. When I hear their happy little voices and feet coming inside, I make my way to the back door near the kitchen.
Duke is grinning widely, holding Dutton in one arm while bracing his hand on the wall so he can remove his muddy boots. It started raining a few minutes ago, and by the looks of it, they were caught in it.
I turn my phone toward him, showing him the text. His eyebrows scrunch together as he reads it.
Sandy
I’ll be picking up the boys this Friday for Matt’s parenting time. He’s not feeling well. Let me know where you’d like to meet!
He flexes his jaw before his blue eyes meet mine. He slowly sets Dutton down on the floor.
“Hey, boys, you wanna go grab a snack from the pantry?”
“Yes! I wanna pick!” Dawson races toward the pantry, Dutton on his heels.
Duke turns back to me. The tears are threatening to fall again.
“Hey, hey. You don’t have to meet up with her, right? Didn’t the lawyer say you are only required to turn the kids over directly to Matt?”
I nod. “I guess so, but if she’s saying he’s sick and she’s just meeting me to get them, technically, saying no could be seen as me being high maintenance and difficult. I have to be careful with my perception to the judge.”
“How have they treated you?”
Previously, I would say not horrible.
That is, up until the run-in I had with his sister at the café.
Now I’m wondering if Sandy has been playing me this whole time.
Clearly, her daughter thinks I’m a whore, sleeping around, and her brother is the victim.
I’ve been sent anonymous bullying messages about being a slut that I’m pretty sure were from his sister.
“I mean, not great for some of them. Sandy’s been nice, but I’m starting to question if it’s genuine. Someone has spread rumors around town that I slept around while we were still married.”
He rolls his eyes. “I don’t see why people who have blatantly disrespected you after he treated you so horribly should have any relationship with your kids. Why would you want those kinds of people influencing them? Just because they’re blood-related?”
I blink at him, shocked that he’s saying this. His family is so closely bonded. I would’ve thought he’d say something like, They’re his blood relatives; they deserve to be in their life even if y’all don’t get along. That seems to be what most people think.
“I agree. I don’t want them influencing the boys and trying to turn them against me. Some of them obviously think I’m the bad guy, so they’d certainly only talk negatively about me to them. It’s hard enough, raising them and dealing with him.”
A sigh of relief escapes me. He doesn’t think I’m evil for wanting to keep the boys as far away from Matt’s family as possible.
Still, a stab of guilt pangs my gut when I think of Sandy. She loves being their grandma. As far as I know, she hasn’t said anything bad about me.
“And of course, if they don’t see a problem with his behavior, they clearly don’t have any business helping him raise the boys,” Duke adds.
“Well, what do I say to her?”
I’ve been typing up different responses all morning, debating how to answer.
“Just say no,” he says, shrugging. “Or don’t even respond. Wait until you hear from him.”
I purse my lips, releasing a slow exhale. I wish the tight feeling in my gut would go away, but I know it’s going to be here as long as I have to deal with the trauma of handing my kids over to my abuser who’s endangered them multiple times.
“What did you do the other night?” I lower my voice.
I know something happened. His knuckles are all torn up, and his mood has been off. Sometimes, I hate my intuition. I wish I could be blissfully unaware.
Surely, he wouldn’t have killed my ex-husband without telling me …
He smirks, curling his hand around my waist while his other one tugs on one of the curls framing my face. “I had a little chat with him.”
My stomach flips. “You what?”
“We talked for a bit about how I expect him to treat my girlfriend and her boys.”
I blink up at him, opening my mouth and then closing it while my brain scrambles to come up with a response.
“Did you … did you hurt him?”
He tries and fails to hide his smirk as he slowly nods. “Some.”
“Some?”
“Yeah, some.”
“Duke, what does ‘some’ mean?”
“It means, yes, I hurt him. But last I checked, he was still breathing.”
He clears his throat, his fingers working through my hair. He fusses over a wayward curl that won’t stay in place.
“Is that why his mom is saying he’s sick?”
“Probably.”
“How bad is it? Why wouldn’t he go to the police if you beat him up?”
My pulse is skyrocketing as the potential fallout races through my mind. If Matt goes to the cops because my boyfriend beat him up, could it affect my custody agreement?
He shakes his head. “He won’t. I have something on him. And we came to an agreement. When Holden let him go, he told Matt I don’t want him near you or the boys, and he has one month to sign away his rights before we have another chat.”
I wring my hands and search his face, wondering if he’s actually real or if I imagined him this whole time.
“And if he doesn’t?”
“He will.”
“But if he—”
“Then I’ll deal with him. He’s my problem now. I don’t want you to think about it.”
“So, what about his mom?”
“Block her number. She has no custodial rights. It may not be her fault what he did, but if she wanted a relationship with her grandkids she should’ve stepped in and tried to protect them from him.” He cups the side of my face. “And trust me. Trust that I can deal with this for you.”
He plants a kiss on my nose and pulls away. “Boys! Let’s take Mama on a date.”
Over the next few weeks, I don’t hear a word from Matt or anyone in his family. Every day that passes, I relax a little more.
Maybe whatever scare tactics Duke used really worked. Maybe he’s gone for good, out of our lives.
I’m almost too afraid to dream it.
I wake up to the sound of a chainsaw outside my window. When I look out, I see Duke cutting a board with a stack of lumber beside him.
“What is he doing?” I muse.
Then I see my two little boys chasing each other with tape measures and big smiles on their faces.
They’ve finally started sleeping better.
After the kidnapping, Dutton was waking up with night terrors at least three times a week.
I’ve been exhausted, trying to keep up with them and go to work.
Eden is still babysitting for me, and Duke has been dropping not-so-subtle hints about how much he thinks my job is bad for my sleep schedule.
I think he’d let me be a stay-at-home girlfriend if I wanted to be.
The idea of depending on a man for my income again fills me with dread. I can’t do that to myself, not after what I’ve been through.
Bartending isn’t a long-term plan. I’ve been looking into schooling options, but with the twins and working, I know it will be a long road to getting a degree under my belt.
And they’re so little right now. If I spend the next four years busting my ass in school, I’ll be missing so much of their childhood.
I climb out of bed and make my way into the kitchen. I grab a mug and pour myself a cup from the coffeepot Duke made. A noise from the hallway draws my attention. Dolly enters, her face lighting up with she sees me.
“Hey! You’re up. Perfect. Do you wanna go to the farmers market with us today?” Dolly asks. “We stopped by to grab Eden so she can tag along.”
“Oh, I would, but I have to wrangle the boys.”
She waves a hand. “Duke said to ask you. He’s working on some project and will keep an eye on them. Sam’s coming over to help him build it.”
“What is he building?”
She shrugs like she doesn’t know. “Duke’s good with wood. He’s built lots of stuff around the ranch, like the table out on the porch, the feeding boxes for the cattle, I don’t even know what else.”
“Hmm.” I didn’t know that, but if I thought he couldn’t get any hotter, I was wrong. “Let me get dressed and put on a little makeup. I just woke up.”
“No rush! We have some time. Holden and Rosie are going now to set up, so we’ll meet them after.”
Dolly, Eden, and I make it to the farmers market just as it’s getting busy. We hurry to her tent setup, where Rosie and Holden are already busy fulfilling orders.
Dolly sells baked goods, and Rosie sells homemade salsa from her garden. They told me on the way over that Dolly couldn’t keep up with the demand with one oven, so Eden took over half of the baking, and she gets a fifty percent commission for her baked goods.
Rosie smiles at me and pulls me in for a tight hug. “Hi, future sister. How are you this morning?”
I shake my head at her, my cheeks tingeing red. “I’m letting my boyfriend babysit for the first time, so I’m nervous but good.”
“Nervous? I bet Duke is having the time of his life,” Dolly adds in, pinching my arm. “He’s the best uncle in the world to the girls, but he’s been dying to have boys to get all dirty with.”
“It’s true. Bonnie and Birdie are little princesses who hate the mud,” Rosie says.
I look over at the adorable twin girls sitting in matching red-and-white polka-dot chairs near the back of the tent. They’re wearing pale yellow baby-doll dresses and white shoes and ruffled socks.
“The girl-mom life isn’t even in the same universe as the boy-mom one.” I laugh.
“Hello. I see you have fresh salsa. Do you sell any organic vegetables?” A gray-haired customer is standing in front of the table.
Rosie shakes her head. “Not at this time, no. That’s a great idea though. That’s definitely what this market needs.”
She turns and looks at me, eyes wide. “You should totally do it.”
“Do what?”
“Start growing vegetables in your garden and selling fresh produce. You could can stuff too. Oh! Like pickles! I would do nasty things for some homemade pickles.”
I blink at her, an idea forming in my head. Holy shit.
“My mini herb garden is doing really well so far, but once summer gets here, it’s going to be a challenge. The heat and sun will kill most of it. Unless I had, like, a place to grow it in the shade.”
“Hmm,” she says, tapping her nails on the tabletop. “Well, if you decide to do it, you’re welcome to sell stuff here with us. We do weekly markets, and we always sell out!”
“With the four of us, it’s like a Redford women tradition,” Dolly says, pulling me in for a quick hug. “And to think, I used to cry about not having any sisters, growing up. And now I almost have four.”
Emotions clog my throat, and my head is pounding. We barely started dating, and they’re already adding me to the family.
He’s babysitting my boys and threatening my ex with God knows what kind of violence.
And I’m about to have a panic attack, just thinking about what the future may hold. I’m still healing, fighting the panic in the middle of the night and praying my ex doesn’t show up and demand I give him the boys back for his parenting time.
I’m not ready for any of this.