Chapter Eleven
Remy
Raven and I go straight from work to the restaurant in Brooklyn because Owen eats dinner early. It’s not a long trip and I drive us in my car.
Letting him order a root beer float keeps him busy slurping and playing with the straw while the grown-ups talk.
Early in the meal, Raven seems uneasy, glancing around and looking over her shoulder.
I already have an eye out for anyone or anything unusual, but my instincts don’t buzz with awareness. Still, I can sense her discomfort.
Caleb is smart and steers the conversation away from his mother and brother and onto other things, and soon Raven settles down and focuses on her nephew.
“Hey, buddy. Can I have a sip of your float?”
Owen’s lips turn down in a pout. “But I only have a drop left. See?” He points to the tall glass which is still half full.
Matching his pout by pursing her lips, Raven folds her arms across her chest. “But I don’t have any more water and I’m thirsty.” She meets the little boy’s gaze in a staring contest I have no doubt she’ll win.
“Owen, what did I say about sharing?” Caleb asks in a calm, easy dad-like voice. It reminds me of my father’s way of admonishing his kids without yelling.
“Fine.” Owen’s bottom lip pushes out even farther.
Grinning, Raven takes her own straw and sticks it into the drink and takes a long sip. The straw is clear and it’s obvious to the grown-ups, at least, she doesn’t pull up any liquid, saving it all for her nephew.
“Yum!” she says, as she lifts her head. “Best root beer float ever. Thank you so much for sharing. You’re the man!” She holds up her hand for a high five, which Owen gladly gives, smacking her hand with his, grinning the entire time, his upset already forgotten.
“Want to share my fries?” She pushes her plate full of French fries loaded with cheese toward him.
The kid has been eyeing them since they were delivered to the table. “Yes! I forgot to ask Dad if I could have them with my burger. You’re the best, Aunt Raven!”
He goes to town on the fries, leaving the adults grinning at one another and me amazed at her way with children.
On the drive home, I say as much.
She shrugs. “Owen makes it easy. He’s a really good kid.”
I glance at her profile. God, she’s beautiful, with her delicate profile, porcelain skin, and plush lips. “Do you ever think about having children of your own?” I ask, keeping conversation light.
She spins to face me. “And how would that work?” she asks in a bitter tone.
“I’d be giving Lance another target, for one thing.
And what if he tried something and I had to pick up and leave town?
How easy would that be with a kid?” She pulls in a shaky breath.
“No, Remy, I’ve never thought about having kids of my own,” she says as she does a full-body turn and stares out the passenger-side window.
Fuck. So much for light conversation, I think, my stomach cramping at my carelessly asked question and her pain-filled words.
“I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry.”
She sighs and turns back toward me. “It’s fine. I just… yeah, I’d like kids. I just don’t see it in the cards for me,” she says, and is silent for the rest of the trip.
The quiet that follows gives me time to think about our evening. Raven had a good time with her brother but until she focused on Owen, she was nervous and jittery.
“Was something wrong earlier?” I ask, breaking the stillness and silence.
“What do you mean?” she asks.
I think back to the crowded restaurant and the way she was craning her neck and looking around. I didn’t say anything at the time because any question would lead to a discussion of Lance and I didn’t want to upset Caleb’s son.
“When we first arrived at the restaurant you kept looking around. I had my eye on things, but I didn’t notice anything wrong.” I pause, then ask, “Did you?”
She rubs her hands on her black jeans. “Well, to be honest, I felt like someone was watching me but…” She shakes her head.
“I discounted the possibility because we were in Brooklyn, not the city close to where I live, and everyone else seemed calm. Especially you, so I chalked it up to my imagination.”
I pull into the underground parking garage where I live, turn into my designated spot, and cut the engine.
“Besides,” she continues. “Caleb always says Lance wouldn’t do anything with Owen around but…
I’m not so sure. I’ve warned him about trusting that twin bond, and I’ve been adamant that I don’t think Lance is capable of feeling what Caleb does.
That’s why I never agreed to live with them.
I wouldn’t ever put that sweet boy in harm’s way. ”
“I agree with you.”
“You do?” She sounds relieved.
I nod. “And just because I didn’t notice anyone doesn’t mean I’d discount your intuition. Always trust your instincts,” I tell her, vowing silently to up my game. Watch more closely.
She lets out a long, pained sigh. “I don’t think I should see Caleb and Owen for a while.” Disappointment and hurt fills her voice. “God, I hate that Lance is in control of my life.” She fumbles for the door handle, clearly eager to escape the confines of the vehicle.
“Raven, wait.”
She turns and the agony in her contorted expression guts me.
Reaching out, I stroke her cheek. “We’ll figure something out, okay?”
She nods and I only hope I can live up to the trust in her eyes.