Chapter 24
We were dressed—unfortunately. Cleaned up—again, unfortunately.
And back in bed. This was good seeing as Brooklyn was on her side with her head resting on my chest, hand resting on my heart, and her leg thrown over my thighs—though not as good as it would’ve been if Brooklyn still had been naked.
But I didn’t need my boy waking up to find Daddy naked with Mommy, hence the unfortunate necessity of clothes.
This wasn’t the first time I’d felt Brooklyn cuddled close.
The first time, she’d been naked with her perky tits pressed to my chest so I could see how I’d missed it then.
I wasn’t missing it now. Not the way she snuggled deep, seeking closeness.
Not where she’d placed her hand, not the way she’d flattened her palm and sought out my heartbeat.
And I didn’t miss her sigh when my arm closed around her, pinning her body to mine.
Yes, I’d been a dumbfuck because if I’d been paying attention she would have given all of this to me five years ago.
With a great deal of effort, I pushed those thoughts from my mind. I had a lot to tell her and I wanted it hashed out before Remy woke up.
“I talked to Wilson. Good news is, two suspects are in custody for the shooting.”
“Really?”
“He’s waiting on a ballistics match, then we can go down the mountain.”
Brooklyn went stiff and her fingertips pressed deeper over my heart.
“Hey,” I called and waited until her eyes tipped up. “No way in fuck I’d take us down the mountain if I didn’t know it was safe.”
Brooklyn nodded, unconvinced.
“Wilson’s set a meet with Trevor Lawrence. A detective’s agreed to go. A show of protection for Kiki. Lawrence will know that truth but it will be made clear Kiki’s off-limits. I need to be at that meet.”
“Why?”
“Because I need to make sure Lawrence is crystal clear what happens if he fucks with you or Remington.”
“You’re gonna threaten him in front of a detective?”
I was going to do more than that.
“I’m gonna put the fear of God in him. He’s gonna know exactly what happens if he chooses to be a dumbfuck and fuck with my family. By the time the meet’s over, he’ll see it clear and he’ll forget you and Remy exist.”
“And Kiki?”
I gritted my teeth in an effort not to say what I wanted to say.
Something about Brooklyn I’d learned was that she saw the good in people.
She saw what she wanted to see and not what they showed her.
Kiki was a selfish, envious, nasty bitch.
It was plain to see and from what I’d heard from Letty and her parents they all knew it.
That wasn’t to say Michael and Tallulah didn’t love their daughter.
They did. They’d said it themselves—they’d tried for years to save Kiki from her bad choices.
Letty sounded like she was plain fed up, which was understandable.
But not Brooklyn, it was like she had to believe there was good in Kiki, something to be redeemed.
“I say this cautiously, but, Sugar, not everyone gets a happy ending.”
“What?” she breathed and looked up at me with big eyes.
“We’re taking precautions to ensure her safety.
Part of what I’m going to explain to Lawrence is Kiki’s to walk away from the Horsemen physically unharmed.
But, Brooklyn, Kiki made a series of bad choices.
And from what I’ve heard they didn’t start when she hooked up with Lawrence.
They started when she was a kid. I get that you love the Welshes.
I understand you want to believe there’s some good in Kiki but sometimes there’s not.
Not everyone sees the error of their ways. And I want you prepared for that.”
“I’m not stupid,” she mumbled.
“Never thought you were, baby.”
With a long-suffering sigh, Brooklyn settled back and nuzzled closer.
“I know who she is. I know all the bad shit she did to Letty and what she put her parents through. But I also saw her act apologetic and loving. When she wasn’t being a brat she could be sweet.
She’d make up these cute songs when we were kids and sing for me and Letty.
She could be funny when she forgot to be jealous.
I admit those times were few and far between but they happened.
That’s what I can’t let go of. Not for Kiki, but for Michael, Tally, and Letty.
I want them to have the Kiki I saw in those rare moments.
And I know what she said about Remington and it hurt so bad to hear her say it, not only because Remy’s my son but because after Remy was born, Kiki would light up when she saw him.
It was like she was a different person. These last couple of years the only person Kiki’s been nice to is Remington.
I never would’ve allowed her around him if she wasn’t. ”
I didn’t want to think about that bitch around my son and I didn’t give the first fuck if Kiki liked spending time with Remy, that shit was done.
“Love that about you, baby. The way you see the good in people. So it gives me no pleasure to remind you that this might not end with Kiki going home and patching shit up with her parents. She’s likely going to be pissed and she’s got a history of blaming other people for her mistakes. I want you prepared for that.”
“It’ll be my fault just like everything else. For Kiki it all boils down to me and what I took from her.”
“Sugar—”
“Logically I know I did nothing wrong. But Kiki’s right about one thing.
It’s always been me and Letty. Best friends since we were in diapers.
Kiki didn’t have all of her sister’s attention because I had it.
We tried to include her but she’s younger than us; by the time we were teenagers we didn’t want her tagging along.
Maybe we shouldn’t have left her out so much. ”
Fuck no.
“How about this for an alternate scenario; maybe Kiki should’ve found friends her own age.
Maybe Kiki shouldn’t’ve been a nasty bitch and she would’ve been included.
You and Letty weren’t leaving her out; you were escaping her.
You and Letty did nothing wrong. And Michael and Tallulah did everything a parent could do to help their daughter.
Kiki chose this. Kiki decided how she behaved.
Kiki is still making shitty life choices and she alone is going to have to take responsibility.
Not the Welshes. Not Letty. And certainly not you. ”
That was met with silence, which I hoped meant Brooklyn was thinking about what I’d said. Unfortunately, we had other shit to discuss so I got on with it.
“Two more things,” I carried on. “First up is, we’re not going back to your place.
We’re going to a safehouse until we can sort our living situation.
We’ll come up here whenever we got time, let Remy get used to this place being his.
Give me and you our time up here. I like that you get this cabin means something to me but I hope you understand this mountain means something different now.
This is us. This is where you gave me you.
This is where you gave me my son. This is where I became a dad.
I want time up here—the three of us, family, bonding, memories.
But we need to find a place in CDA to live.
I don’t want you and Remy going back to your place.
Warning, Sugar, you wanna go back there I’m gonna spend a good amount of time talking you out of it.
And I’m not gonna let up until I dissuade you from sleeping in a house where you and Remy experienced a trauma. ”
“I don’t want to go back to my place,” she admitted.
Thank fuck.
No arguments there, which was good because the next topic was going to piss Brooklyn off and my solution to that problem was going to piss her off more.
“We gotta talk about the reward money you gave Michael,” I started, and just as I thought, Brooklyn’s shoulders tightened and she started to roll away. “No, baby, just listen. First, you gotta know we’ve got resources and Wilson deployed the best we got to resolve this situation.”
“What situation?”
“Michael’s name was forged on a wire transfer. The money was moved out of the account to a bank in Canada. We’ll get the money back but it might take some time.”
Brooklyn’s whole body sagged right before it bucked and a hiccupped sob echoed in the room.
“How much more?” she whimpered.
“What, Sugar?”
“How much more do they need to go through? This isn’t fair. They’re good people. The best. How much more shit do they have to go through?”
Of course, she was talking about the Welshes. That was pure Brooklyn, worrying about those she loved before herself. She wasn’t crying because she’d lost her life savings; she was crying because Michael and Tallulah had more shit piled on them.
And I didn’t have the heart to tell her that life wasn’t fair, that all too often bad shit happened to good people.
“The money was moved to a bank, Brooklyn. They left a trail that will be easy to follow and we’ll get the money back. It’s just gonna take time. In the meantime, you and Remy are covered.”
“Covered?”
“Four years you’ve been going at this alone. I owe you—”
With a mighty heave, Brooklyn pushed off my chest and sat up.
“You don’t owe me shit,” she spat. “I told you I didn’t want your money.”
I took in her frown and her squinty eyes and read what they said but unfortunately didn’t take the time to contemplate her reaction before I went on.
“You might not want it but that doesn’t mean it’s not yours. And at this juncture, sucks, Brooklyn, but you’re gonna need it.”
Wrong thing to say.
Brooklyn scrambled off the bed, blue fire blazing from her eyes. If that hadn’t clued me in to just how pissed she was, when her hands went to her hips and she leaned in deep, bending at the waist, giving me the woman’s universal sign that her man’s an idiot—that was a clear indication.
“I don’t need shit. We’ve been doing just fine without you, Rhode. I have a job, it pays well, and Remy’s never gone without. So, no, I don’t need your money.”
No, that was the wrong thing to say.
I clenched my jaw trying to keep the anger burning in my gut from exploding all over the room. To keep the anguish at the reminder she and my son had been fine without me from igniting. And to prevent all the bitterness I’d been ignoring from detonating.
“Don’t need the reminder, Brooklyn.” I tossed my legs over the bed and stood.
And instead of taking a moment to compose myself, I faced the mother of my child and the bomb ignited.
“Trust me, baby, not a second’s gone by that I don’t remember you and Remington didn’t need me.
You and my boy living your lives happy and content.
The two of you building a life, you giving my boy good.
Without me. Now here I am wondering how I can fit myself into the family you’ve given him.
My son sharing wisdom with me that another man taught him.
My son sharing with me stories about his life that don’t include me.
Four goddamn years, Brooklyn. Four. I missed those.
Me. Not you. Not Michael or Tallulah or Letty.
Me. So while I’m remembering all that I missed I haven’t forgotten all that you don’t need from me because, baby, they go hand in hand.
You wanna take more from me, I can’t stop you.
You wanna throw the one fucking thing I can give you to make up for missing out on those years, I can’t stop that either.
And it fucking kills I can’t get those years back.
I can’t make it up to my son in any real, meaningful way because those years are gone. They’re lost to me.”
“You don’t get it,” Brooklyn whispered.
I couldn’t miss the hurt in her voice. But with fury still burning through me I ignored what I heard and carried on.
“No, Brooklyn. It’s you who doesn’t get it.”
And with that, I rounded the bed and left.
It wasn’t until I was standing out back looking over the majesty of the mountains did the guilt start to gnaw.
Fuck.
“Fuck,” I grunted into the warm breeze.
Unable to look at the beauty around me, I dropped my head and focused on my feet.
My bare feet. Which led me to remember why I wasn’t wearing my boots.
How not even thirty minutes ago I’d reconnected with Brooklyn.
How all the emotions I’d buried had rushed to the surface.
How I finally remembered why I couldn’t forget her.
Now I was standing alone, contemplating my bare feet, wondering if I would ever be able to get past losing what I’d lost.