Chapter 19
If Zeus or Apollo or whatever that idiot biker president called himself didn’t kill Kiki I was going to. She was now at an all-time low. How could she lie about Rhode to those assholes? And me? Did she want me dead? Did she want Remy to grow up without me—or worse, get hurt, too?
Had she hated me this much all my life?
“Please tell Wilson I said thank you for taking care of my place. That was cool of him.”
“Babe.”
I didn’t have to look at Rhode to know he was concerned.
He’d watched me carefully as he told me about his conversation.
He’d been exceedingly gentle when he explained the dilemma we were in.
And it was quite the predicament—throw Kiki under the bus and clear our name or keep the target on our backs and let Kiki live.
Honestly, that was what I was most pissed about—the situation she’d put me in was unwinnable. Protect my son—which was a no-brainer. Or protect her—which meant saving the people who took me in after my parents’ death a lifetime of hurt.
“I need a few hours to think about it,” I told him.
“I can give you that, but while you’re thinking about it you need to remember that none of this is your doing.”
“But she’s lying because she hates me.”
Rhode’s hand on my back moved lower to my hip and his other went to the back of my neck and both squeezed.
I was catching on—he did this when he was going to say something I wasn’t going to like.
It was a warning to brace, so I did. I gathered up what I had left of my patience for a situation I didn’t want to be in, one that was dangerous beyond anything I’d ever experienced, and I waited.
“Straight up, Sugar, I don’t give a fuck if she does hate you.
Kiki’s life choices are Kiki’s. If she chooses to allow hate to guide her to making fucked-up decisions that’s not on you.
She’s responsible for her actions. Not you, not Letty, not her parents.
Kiki made the choice, and, Brooklyn, you gotta understand this part, it was a cognizant choice, she’s been around those bikers long enough to understand the repercussions of lying to them.
Not only lying, but starting what’s gonna amount to a war because she’s an immature, selfish twit.
Let me put it this way; if she went to Lawrence and told him that she hates you because she’s jealous and thinks you got more attention than her growing up and asked him to fuck with you because of that he would’ve laughed in her face and likely kicked her out of the clubhouse for wasting his time.
She’s not so stupid to tell him the truth.
So she made up a bunch of bullshit. Whatever comes her way because of that is on her.
Not you. But saying all of that, as pissed as I am, I’m not fired up about making the Welshes pay for their daughter’s fucked-up choices.
So we’re gonna sit on this, think about it, then make the right plays so everyone walks away unharmed. ”
Rhode didn’t strike me as the sort of man who sat on information and waited around.
He’d been clear from the start his priority was keeping me and Remy safe.
He was a good guy so I believed he wouldn’t be keen on seeing the Welshes suffer more, especially since he’d already had a front-row seat to their pain.
But that was not why he was weighing the options to ensure no harm came to Kiki, who I reckoned he couldn’t care less about.
He was doing it for me. He knew what the Welshes meant to me. He knew that as pissed as I was at Kiki, a part of me still loved her. At least I loved the little girl I’d grown up with.
“Thank you.”
Dark brown eyes bore into mine and I watched as they gentled and lost some of their anger.
“We’re gonna get through this.”
“I know.”
The rest of the anger slid clear away and he grinned.
“How upset are you gonna be when I take Remy out later on the dirt bike?”
Considering he hadn’t known about Remington long enough to purchase a bike small enough to teach Remy to ride I wouldn’t be upset at all. And if for some reason he had a bike small enough and wanted to teach him, I’d hold my tongue and let father and son do their thing.
“I’ll only be upset if you don’t have a bike for me to ride.”
“You think you can hang with the boys?”
He had no idea. I’d been riding since I was Remy’s age. Which was exactly why everyone gave me shit about not allowing my son to learn. But I was waiting for…something. Call it the romantic in me. But now that Rhode was here I knew what I was waiting for and that I’d made the right decision.
“Eh.” I shrugged. “I might be able to keep up.”
“Why do I get the feeling you think you can best me?”
“Because I know I can, and even if you could beat me—which you can’t—you’ll have Remy with you so I know you’ll take it slow.”
Rhode gave me one of his panty-melting smiles and I fell a little more in love when he teased back.
“Love your confidence, Sugar, but I’ll smoke your ass.”
“It’s cute you think that, honey.”
Lucky for me when Rhode tipped his head to the side and roared with laughter he was still holding on to me so I got to hear, feel, and watch his beautiful face alight.
I also got to memorize it.
But I would find out later there was no need to file away the sound of his happiness—he gave it freely and often. Something else to love.
“Can we have SpaghettiOs every morning for breakfast?” Remy asked as he wiped sauce off his face.
I looked over Remy’s shoulder to the clock on the wall and noted it was ten to six.
Then I tried to remember a morning when my son had been up this early alert, happy, smiling, and ready to tackle the day.
It was a fruitless endeavor; I didn’t have to waste time thinking about it because I knew the answer was never.
Remington was just like me, neither of us morning people.
And on a morning that was sure to be shitty—the morning Remy woke up in a bed he’d never been in the day after his home had been destroyed causing us to flee—he was smiling instead.
Yet after a hard start, he was sitting at the table alert and happy.
So I was giving great consideration to allowing him to eat SpeghettiOs every morning for the rest of his life if a bowl of empty-calorie-laden noodles made him this happy.
Though I figured his happiness had more to do with Rhode and the promise of fishing.
Which was good news because my concern for my son’s nutritional well-being won out and I had to break the unfortunate news he couldn’t eat processed, canned spaghetti for breakfast every morning from here on out.
“Sorry, bud, but the answer is no.”
“Bummer.”
“Do you know what bummer means?”
“Auntie Letty says bummer. Is it an adult word?”
Remy’s gaze lifted and his face showed confusion; a reminder that he was four, not fourteen despite some of the things he said. Nervousness set in, bringing me back to how we were going to tell Remington about Rhode. I didn’t even know how to start the conversation.
“No, bud, it’s not. I was just wondering where you heard it, that’s all.”
“How long are we staying here?”
“Um…”
Shit.
“A few days,” Rhode smoothly interjected.
“Cool. No school.”
Double shit. How could I have forgotten about school?
“Cool? You don’t like school?” Rhode asked between bites of his ravioli.
“It’s okay. But my teacher makes us take naps.”
“Yeah, I don’t like naps either.”
“I love naps,” I told them.
Remington looked at me and scrunched his face. “Naps are boring.”
“Agreed,” Rhode said.
“Boring? How can sleeping be boring?”
With identical brown eyes staring at me I lost my train of thought.
God, they were beautiful, both of them. The only thing that would’ve made the vision better was if they were smiling their perfect, matching smiles.
The icing would’ve been if I’d had this every morning since Remy was big enough to sit in a high chair.
Breakfast with my beautiful boys. I might not have appreciated the extreme beauty in front of me quite as much if I’d had it all along, though I was pretty damn sure I would’ve.
“Sugar?”
I was beginning to learn not much slipped past Rhode and I was also learning he was quick to call me on it when my mood shifted. Seeing as I was a woman and my mood shifted frequently, he had his work cut out for him.
I ignored Rhode’s concern and concentrated on my son, then I went for it.
“Remington, I need to talk to you about something.”
“Naps are boring but I don’t argue,” he rushed out.
Shit. My son thought he was in trouble. I was making a mess out of this and I hadn’t even started.
“It’s not about naps, bud, and I know you do. It’s about your dad.”
Remy’s tiny body snapped straight and his eyes got round. I’d never brought up this topic with him and I’d artfully avoided it the few times he’d asked.
“I have a dad?”
The guilt that slammed into me stole my breath and shattered my heart.
Not only was I botching what should be a special moment for Rhode and Remington I was irrevocably proven to be the worst mother in the history of motherkind.
“You absolutely have a dad,” Rhode told him fiercely.
“Are you my dad?”
Time stood still.
“Yes, Remington, I’m your dad.”
Five life-changing words hung in the air and I still couldn’t get my lungs to work. I needed to say something but my mind blanked. All I could do was stare at my son staring at Rhode.
No, my son was staring at the man he now knew was his dad and still, I couldn’t speak.
“Are you staying?” Remy squeaked.
“Yes!”
“Are you going to live with us?”
Oh, Jesus.
“Your mom and I are going to give you time to adjust, then we’ll talk about it.”
Good answer.
“What does that mean?”
Rhode smiled at Remington and I finally inhaled.
“That means that for now, I’m gonna spend all the time I can with you and your mom.”
“But you’re not leaving?”
“No.”
“Okay.”
Wait? Okay? That was it?
I found my voice and asked, “Do you have any questions?”
“When are we going fishing?”
Fishing.
I glanced at Rhode and he gave me a short shake of his head, which I interpreted as leave it. So I left it and didn’t push Remy on the subject.
“Can I let the SpaghettiOs settle in my belly before I take a boat ride?” I joked.
“How long will that take?”
Kids are as resilient as they are fragile. They’ll roll with change as long as their foundation is solid. You’ve given Remington solid parenting, so he’ll roll with this change.
Tally was right.
Remington was rolling with change.
“Ten minutes?”
“Ten minutes,” Remy agreed and jumped off the chair. “Do you know what’s cool about staying here? I don’t even have to get dressed since I’m still wearing clothes from yesterday.”
“Yes, Remy, that’s cool. I can see how changing clothes is a waste of time when a boat ride and fishing are imminent.”
“What does im-men-ent mean?” Remy asked.
“Upcoming. Happening soon,” Rhode explained.
“May I be excused?”
Further proof Remy was rolling with his life changing in ways he couldn’t begin to understand.
“Please, rinse your bowl and go wash your face.”
Remington dashed into the kitchen. I heard the water go on and off.
Then he dashed by the table and up the stairs.
Through all of this Rhode had his gaze locked with mine.
His expression gave nothing away. When the pounding of feet stopped Rhode got out of his chair, plucked me out of mine, and brought his lips to mine.
“Thank you.”
I didn’t respond.
I couldn’t, with Rhode giving me the best kiss of my life.