Chapter 17 #2
The boys were wide-eyed as they walked into the clubhouse, taking in the pool tables, the bar, the bikes visible through the garage bay doors. Knox was vibrating with excitement; Luca was more cautious, staying close to my side.
“This is where you work?” Knox asked, spinning in a circle to take it all in.
“Sort of. This is where the club meets. Where my brothers hang out.”
“Brothers like Handful?” Luca looked around. “The dirt bikes one—is he here?”
As if summoned, Handful emerged from the back, a deck of cards in his hand. “Did I hear my name? The famous Spencer twins, finally gracing us with their presence.”
Both boys frowned at the same time. Knox looked left, then right. “What other twins?”
Handful blinked. “What?”
“The Spencer twins.” Luca’s frown deepened. “Where are they?”
I stepped in. “Handful, meet Luca and Knox James.”
Handful went still for a second, putting it together. Then he nodded once, crouched down to their level, and held out his hand like they were grown men he was being introduced to at a business meeting.
“Luca. Knox.” He shook each hand in turn, solemn as a judge. “Good to officially meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Good stuff?” Knox asked.
“Mostly.” He grinned. “Heard you two did pretty well on my bikes.”
Both boys looked at him. “Those were your bikes?” Luca asked.
“My nephews’. Same thing.” He shrugged.
“Can you teach us a card trick?” Knox blurted out. “Colt said you know, like, a million.”
“Your da—” Handful caught himself. “Colt exaggerates. I only know about fifty. Come on, I’ll show you the best one.”
For the next two hours, my sons learned card tricks from Handful, got a tour of the garage from Glitch, and ate their weight in chips and soda. They were charming, curious, and completely at ease.
By late afternoon, they were crashed on the big couch in the common room, a movie playing on the TV that neither of them was watching anymore. Knox had fallen asleep first, slumped against the armrest. Luca had lasted longer, but his eyes were drooping.
Suddenly, Luca’s whole body jerked. At first I thought he was waking up. Then I saw his face—screwed up in terror, tears leaking from his closed eyes, his small hands fisting in the couch cushions.
“No,” he whimpered. “No, please. Don’t hurt her. Don’t hurt Mama.”
“Hey.” I crouched beside him, keeping my voice soft. “Luca. Wake up, buddy. It’s just a dream.”
His eyes flew open, wild and unseeing. For a moment he didn’t recognize me—just saw a large man looming over him, and he scrambled backward with a cry that woke Knox.
“What’s happening?” Knox sat up, confused. “Luca?”
“He had a nightmare.” I stayed back, giving Luca space, even though every instinct screamed at me to pull him close. “It’s okay. You’re safe. You’re at the clubhouse, remember? With me.”
Luca’s breathing was ragged, his whole body shaking. Slowly, awareness crept back into his eyes. He looked around—at the familiar common room, at his brother, at me.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean to—”
“Hey, no.” I moved closer, slowly, giving him time to stop me if he wanted. He didn’t. “You don’t apologize for nightmares. That’s not how it works.”
“I woke everyone up.”
“You woke your brother up. Everyone else is working.” I sat on the edge of the couch, close but not touching. “You want to tell me about it?”
He shook his head violently. “There was a man,” he said after a long pause. “Hurting Mama. I couldn’t stop him. I tried, but I was too small, and he was too big, and—” His voice broke.
Knox had gone pale. “Was it the dream about before? Before we were born?”
I looked between them. “You’ve had this dream before?”
Luca nodded miserably. “Mama doesn’t know. We didn’t want to scare her.”
Fuck. These kids—my kids—had been having nightmares about the attack that had nearly killed their mama, and they’d been protecting her from that knowledge.
“Come here.” I opened my arms, an invitation, not a demand. “Both of you.”
Knox moved first, crawling across the couch and tucking himself against my side. After a moment, Luca followed, and then I had both my sons pressed against me, their small bodies trembling.
“Listen to me.” I kept my voice steady, even though I was barely holding it together. “What happened to your mama—that was a long time ago. The people who hurt her can never hurt her again. I promise you that.”
“How do you know?” Luca’s voice was muffled against my chest.
Because I’m going to kill every last one of them, I thought but didn’t say.
“Because I won’t let them. Because your uncles—Handful, Dutch, all of them—they won’t let them either. We protect our family. And you two, your mama, you’re our family now.”
“What if they come back?”
I pulled back just enough to look into Luca’s eyes. “Then they’ll have to go through me first. And kid? Nobody gets through me.”
His expression shifted. Not into belief, but the beginning of it. The first crack in the armor he’d built up over years of being worried about his mama.
“You really mean it?” Knox asked. “You’d fight for us?”
“I’d die for you.” The words came out simple, true. “I’d do anything to keep you safe. Both of you, and your mama.”
Mama. I hadn’t meant to say it like that—like she was mine to claim, like we were already a unit. We were still in the fragile stage where they called me “Colt” and I didn’t push for more. But it was out now.
We sat like that until Handful appeared in the doorway, took one look at us, and silently retreated. When Lilac arrived to pick them up an hour later, both boys had tear-streaked faces and refused to let go of my hands.
“What happened?” she asked, alarm in her voice.
“Luca had a nightmare,” I said. “We talked it out. They’re okay.”
She looked at me—really looked—and her expression softened. “Thank you.”
“Always.”
That night, after the boys were home and I was alone in my room at the clubhouse, I broke down. Sobbed like I hadn’t since the night I’d sat alone in our empty house and let myself believe she’d chosen to leave.
My sons had been having nightmares about their mother’s attack for God knows how long. They’d been carrying that fear alone, trying to protect her, being strong when they should have been allowed to just be kids.
I couldn’t undo the past seven years. Couldn’t take away the trauma they’d already experienced. But I damn well would be there for every nightmare from now on.