28. Long Time Coming #3
,” Connor screams, sending hot tears cascading down my cheeks as Adam gently sets me aside, playing with the lock.
“It’s okay, baby!” I fight to mask the anxiety clawing its way up my throat. “Mama’s here!”
“We’re coming in to get you, okay, buddy?” Adam tells him. “Just hang tight.”
“What do we do? Should I go find Brandon? Get his keys?”
“I’ve got it,” Adam mumbles.
“How are you going to—” I gasp as Adam shoves his shoulder against the door. “Adam, it’s a reinforced door. There’s no way you can—”
His shoulder connects with it a second time, and the door pops off the top hinge. With a grunt, he shoves his body into it once, twice more, and he catches himself against the frame right as the door swings open and the elevator opens behind us.
“What the fuck?” Brandon yells. “My fucking door!”
“Imagine you cared about your family as much as you cared about your door?” Adam bars his arm across the entrance, stopping Brandon from following me as I race through the apartment. “Don’t fucking follow her.”
Connor’s tear-streaked face appears from where he’s trapped between the floor and his tipped-over playpen. Little hands reach for me, fear-stricken eyes colliding with mine, and I rip the playpen off him, scooping him into my arms, pressing my lips to the small gash on his forehead.
“I’m here, baby,” I weep softly into his hair as he buries his face in my neck.
“It’s going to be okay. Mama’s got you.” I scoop his bag off the floor, and Adam takes it from me, his hand on my back as he guides me toward the door, past a confused and half-drunk Brandon. “He was trapped under his playpen.”
“He…he…” Brandon’s eyes ricochet from the mess in his living room to the blood trickling from Connor’s forehead. “He must’ve tried to climb out and it tipped over. It was an accident. Right? It was just an accident, buddy. You’re okay.”
He reaches for Connor, and I yank him away.
“Don’t touch him,” I seethe. “Never again. You’ve had a million chances. Too many chances
, and like a fool, I kept giving you more because all I’ve ever wanted is for Connor to have a family. But you’re not his family, are you? You don’t care about anyone but yourself.”
“That’s not true,” he tries weakly, eyes flicking to Adam. “I…I love him.”
“You don’t have a clue what love is.”
He rolls his eyes, giving up the act. “And you do?”
“I know it feels nothing like this. This toxic, selfish bullshit you call love does nothing but harm people. And I won’t let you hurt him anymore.”
“So what? You guys are done with me then?”
“You’re not even on the birth certificate.”
He snorts a laugh, shaking his head as I turn to leave. “Whatever. Big fucking loss. Sick of being a goddamn babysitter.”
I spin around, the words on the tip of my tongue, but Adam beats me to it.
“And that’s your fucking problem, isn’t it?” He looms over Brandon, watching as he shrinks away. “You’re not a babysitter, you’re his goddamn father, and the last thing you’ve ever done is act like it.”
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Brandon looks at me, a bitter chuckle rising in his throat.
“This is who you’re dating? Adam fucking Lockwood?
You must be mental if you think this guy cares about anything other than getting pussy.
” He looks to Adam. “She must be holding out on you still, otherwise you’d know it’s not worth it. ”
“Leave,” Adam says, so quietly, the single word scatters a shiver down my spine. “Rosie, leave. Now.”
“I—”
“What is she, your newest charity case? She’s a worthless piece of ass, Lockwood. You must know that, though, right? That’s why I’ve never seen her in any pictures with you. You’re embarrassed.”
“Leave,” Adam repeats, eyes locked on Brandon as he points at me. “Take Connor and get in the truck.”
“She poked a hole in the condom just to get a baby out of me,” Brandon spits his lie when I try to walk away, knowing full and well that fucking latex ripped right down the middle. “Because she was so desperate for a family. For someone to fucking want
her. Someone as rich and famous as you? What do you think she’s gonna do to trap you?”
The door slams in my face, a force so heavy and brutal it knocks me back a step. But that’s not what brings the gasp ripping up my throat.
It’s the sound of Adam’s fist connecting with flesh and bone.
Once.
Twice.
Three times
.
His whispered threats are barely audible, and I’m rooted in place as they float through the door, touching my ears.
“You shut your goddamn mouth and quit acting like those two walking out this door and never looking back won’t be the worst thing that’ll ever happen to you.
Because I promise you, it fucking is. You’re only gifted something like this once in a lifetime, and somebody else is going to appreciate and love the beautiful family you were given, the same one you took for granted. ”
“Who?” Brandon struggles to ask. “You?”
“Yeah. Me.”
The door swings open, and I stumble backward before Adam’s fingers wrap around my arm, catching me. He takes my crying son into his arms without hesitation, hugging him tight as Connor buries his Dada
s in Adam’s neck. His hand slips down my arm, fingers linking with mine, and my gaze settles on his swollen, bloodied knuckles.
Adam pulls me into the elevator, his heated gaze coming to mine as his chest heaves with each ragged breath. “I think we need some hot fudge sundaes.”