Chapter 24
“Take one more step, and you gon’ see exactly why they call me the liability,” Kash snapped.
“Kash, please!” I said, my voice echoing off the mirrors. “He didn’t mean it!”
“He looked at you, seen you was eight months deep, and still didn’t move his shoulders?” This wasn’t coming from Kash. This was Ares, the older of Angel’s brothers. He was currently looming over the poor delivery guy like a gargoyle made of muscle and bad intentions.
Next to him, Arrow, the quieter but somehow scarier brother was already peeling back the Velcro on his tactical gloves.
The delivery guy, who looked like he was maybe twenty-two and definitely not paid enough for this, was backed up against my front desk, his face the color of library paste.
“I—I just tripped,” the kid stammered, clutching his empty crate. “I didn’t mean to bump her, I swear.”
“Tripping is an accident,” Arrow said, his voice a low, vibrating hum that made my skin crawl. “Disrespecting a pregnant woman in my brother-in-law’s presence? That’s a choice.”
This whole mess had started ten minutes ago when Kash had popped up to the studio.
Angel had made some specialized Caribbean stew she swore was the only thing that would make our son “drop right” when the time came, and Kash, being the dutiful and terrified husband he was, had been tasked with the delivery.
He’d brought Ares and Arrow along for “security” because apparently, a pilates studio in a high-end neighborhood was a war zone.
I had been walking toward the door to greet them when the delivery guy, rushing to finish his route, had swung around the corner and caught my shoulder. It wasn’t even a hard bump more of a graze but to these three? He might as well have drop-kicked me.
“He’s just a kid, Kash!” I yelled, stepping directly between Ares and the delivery guy.
I felt my son kick hard against my ribs, probably annoyed by all the yelling.
“You’re gonna catch a charge over a shoulder-check? For real?”
Kash didn’t look at me. His eyes were locked on the guy. “My sister-in-law is carrying my brother’s heir. You touch the heir, you pay the tax.”
“I’m the one he bumped!” I snapped, leaning as far forward as my belly would allow.
“And I’m telling you to stand down. Right now.
Both of you!” I aimed a finger at Ares and Arrow.
“Angel sent you here to bring me lunch, not to get blood on my custom mats. You know how much it costs to get DNA out of cream-colored fabric?”
That stopped Ares. He glanced at the mats, then back at me.
Kash huffed, the tension in his shoulders dropping about an inch, though his jaw was still tight enough to snap a pencil. He pointed at the delivery guy.
“Get out before I change my mind about that promise I made my wife.”
The kid didn’t need to be told twice. He scrambled for the door so fast he almost tripped again, his van tires screeching as he peeled out of the parking lot.
Silence fell over the studio, save for the soft, calming instrumental music I usually played to keep people from wanting to fight.
I exhaled, dropping my hands to my stomach. “Y’all are a lot. Seriously.”
“We’re protective,” Ares corrected, adjusting his jacket. “There’s a difference.”
“There’s a thin line between protective and pyscho, Ares,” I muttered, walking toward the break room. “Now, where’s my food? If I’m gonna deal with a near-death experience in my lobby, I need to be fed.”
Kash followed me, picking up the insulated bag he’d dropped on one of the benches during the initial scuffle. He looked a little sheepish now, his ‘God-of-War’ energy fading back into ‘Annoying-Big-Brother’ mode.
“Angel said to tell you it’s got the extra ginger you like,” Kash said, setting the bag on the break room table. He paused, looking at me. “You really okay, Sev? He didn’t hit you hard?”
My heart softened just a little. Underneath all the bravado and the threats to send people to the afterlife, they really did care.
“I’m fine, Kash,” I said, pulling out the container. The smell of the stew hit me, and my mouth instantly watered. “But if Kasen finds out you three almost caught a felony at my job, he’s gonna lock the security system and none of y’all will be able to get into your own garages for a week.”
Kash winced. “Yeah, don’t tell Batman. He’s already been extra twitchy lately with the due date coming up.”
“I won’t tell him,” I promised, picking up a fork. “As long as you promise to stop trying to kill the help.”
Arrow leaned against the doorframe, finally pulling his gloves off. “No promises, Sevyn. But for today? We’re good.”
I shook my head, taking a big bite of Angel’s cooking. My life was messy, my baby daddy was a headache, and my fiancé’s friends were borderline domestic terrorists.
But as I looked at the three men standing guard in my breakroom while I ate, I realized something.
My son was going to be the most protected kid in HighVille.
God help the first person who bumped into him.
The high of Angel’s stew and the amusement of Kash’s protective streak didn’t last long. By 3:15 PM, the peaceful vibe of the studio was shattered by the ring of my personal phone.
I answered without looking, assuming it was Kasen checking in. “Hey, Batman.”
“Mommy?”
My heart skipped a beat at the wobbliness in Serenity’s voice. “Renny? Baby, why you calling me from the office phone? Is everything okay?”
“The teacher says everybody else already went home,” she whispered, and I could hear the faint sound of a school clock ticking in the background. “Dad didn’t come. He forgot me.”
Ice water. That’s what felt like was flowing through my veins. Troy was a lot of things—petty, annoying, manipulative but he was never late for school pickup. He lived for those moments.
“I’m coming, baby. Stay right there with your teacher. Mommy’s ten minutes away.”
I didn’t even say goodbye to the girls in my 3:00 class. I grabbed my keys, threw my bag over my shoulder, and was out the door before the front-of-house staff could ask what was wrong.
The drive to her school was a blur of heavy breathing and white-knuckled steering. By the time I pulled up, Serenity was sitting on the bench with the principal. She looked so small, her little Batman backpack, the one Kasen got her resting between her feet.
I didn’t say a word. I scooped her up, felt her little arms squeeze my neck, and walked straight back to the car.
Instead of going home, I headed to my mother’s. I needed a second to breathe, and I needed someone to watch her while I figured out how to handle the anger currently rising in my chest.
When I burst through my mother’s front door, she wasn’t in the kitchen. Her husband, David, was sitting in the living room reading. He looked up, eyes widening at the sight of my face and my daughter’s tear-streaked cheeks.
“Sevyn? What happened?”
“Troy forgot her,” I spat, my voice shaking. “He just… he didn’t show up.”
I went to pace the floor, but a sharp, stabbing pain shot through my lower back—the stress hitting my third-trimester body all at once.
I hissed, clutching my stomach.
David stood up immediately. He walked over, his movements calm. “Go sit down for a second, Sevyn,” he said.
It wasn’t a suggestion; it was an order.
I opened my mouth to tell him to mind his business—I’d spent years perfecting the art of keeping him at arm’s length but the look in his eyes stopped me. It was the same look Kasen gave me when I was overworking myself.
I listened. I sank into the recliner, leaning my head back while Serenity climbed into my lap. David handed her a juice box and went to the kitchen to call my mother.
Five minutes later, the roar of a familiar engine rumbled in the driveway.
Kasen burst through the door before he even killed the lights on his truck. He didn’t look at David. He didn’t look at the house. He came straight to the chair, dropping to one knee beside me.
“You okay? Is she okay?” his voice was low, frantic. “I seen your location at your mama’s and then I seen your heart rate spike on the watch data.”
I looked at him, and the tears I’d been holding back since the school lobby finally came.
“No,” I whispered. “He has never done this, Kasen. Never. He’s petty, but he loves her. Something is wrong.”
Kasen’s jaw tightened. He pulled out his phone, probably ready to track Troy’s phone or hack his car, but I beat him to it. I dialed Kasey.
If anyone knew where that man was, it was his other baby mama.
“Hey, Sev,” Kasey answered, sounding suspiciously cheerful. “I was just about to text you.”
“Where is Troy?” I demanded. “He didn’t pick up Serenity. He left her at school, Kasey.”
The line went quiet for a heartbeat. “What? That’s impossible. He texted me two hours ago saying he was picking Kori up early for a sister surprise. I thought he had Serenity with him already.”
“He doesn’t have her,” I said, my voice rising. “I have her. She was crying in the office.”
“Wait,” Kasey’s tone shifted into something sharp. “Sevyn, he’s at the fair. He told me he was taking both of them to the spring fair because it was their special day. He picked Kori up at 1:30.”
The silence that followed was deafening.
Troy hadn’t been in an accident. He hadn’t had a flat tire. He hadn’t been held up at work.
He had picked up one daughter and completely, intentionally or not, left the other one behind.
I looked down at Serenity, who was now quietly sipping her juice, her eyes still red. Then I looked at Kasen.
He didn’t have to say a word. The way he stood up, the way he adjusted his glasses, and the cold, clinical look that settled over his face told me everything.
He was done playing nice.