Then There Was You: A Single Parent Collection

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Then There Was You: A Single Parent Collection Page 27

by Gianna Gabriela


  “I do. Although I think I would love him no matter how he looked, Ethan. That’s what loving someone is about, buddy. It’s about accepting them for who they are. The outside of a person can be beautiful. Flawless. However, if they are an ugly person on the inside, then they will end up being lonely for the rest of their life,” I answer, cross my arms over my chest, and wonder if I should say something about their talk or not. I decide against it. What I just said was a little deep for an eleven-year-old.

  “Like your brother?” He validates what I said with those words.

  “Just like him,” I respond, then smile wide at my child’s alertness.

  “Dad told me you’d be sleeping in here,” he blurts with a shrug of his shoulders.

  “Oh,” I say, stunned, observing him for any signs of being uncomfortable. He’s calm. Too wise for his age. He can slow down any time now. I won’t mind at all.

  “I told him I was cool with it, you know; because I am, Mom. I told you that already.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal.

  “You sure, buddy? I mean if you’re not—”

  “Are you happy, Mom?” He cuts me off. His eyes stare into mine with purpose. His expression is nothing like I’ve seen on my carefree child before.

  “Very happy, Ethan. I love him. I love you, too.”

  “I love you, too, Mom. Can we just be a family now? I don’t want you worrying about me anymore. It’s kind of driving me nuts.”

  “I’ll always worry about you, Ethan. Your health and happiness is part of me being your mom. But, to answer your question, yes, I’ll try as long as you promise me one thing?” I lift my brow when he regards me confusingly.

  “If it’s to quit swearing, I said I wouldn’t anymore.” He looks so serious I can’t help but laugh this time.

  “That’s not it. Although you can stop that, too. I want you to promise you’ll come to me if there is anything about this situation at all that makes you uncomfortable. I mean anything, Ethan. You may not understand this now, but hopefully, someday you will. You’re the most important person in my life. I don’t ever want you to feel that you can’t talk to me, or your dad for that matter, about anything. No matter what it is, Ethan, okay?”

  “Okay, Mom. Can we head to the beach for my lesson now? I need to practice if I’m going to win that competition.”

  And there you have it. Time stops once again in the most beautiful way.

  20

  RIDDICK

  “You better start talking, goddamn it, or you’re going down with the two of them.” I verbalize it as a fucking fact, since it sure the hell is one and this nose-stuck-up-his-own-ass lawyer moments.

  Richard Chapman, the lawyer who drew up the will for Cora’s parents, is a pain in my goddamn ass, a lethal weapon in this case, and he fucking knows it. It took a threat from the FBI to drag him and his entourage of high profile lawyers to what he calls our measly little police precinct. I’m not sure who the fuck he thinks he is by not cooperating, but he’s about to go down even if he didn’t have a damn thing to do with it, or maybe he did, and he’s the missing link. I’ll kill him right the hell here if his smug face so much as twitches.

  He is shown documents that are as fake as the tits on the only female lawyer with him. The one who is making it obvious she’s fucking me in her mind. The bitch. I wouldn’t touch her snake-eyed body for anything.

  “Settle down, Murdock, or you’re out of here,” Field Agent McGraw of the FBI tries to reprimand my ass. No such luck, buddy.

  “I will not settle the fuck down.” He may be in charge here, but goddamn it, he knows this is my entire world we are talking about. If he thinks I’m going to sit here and sweet talk this man, who somehow managed to get his head up his own ass, then he is as mistaken as the huge mistake Jesse made when he tore Cora’s life apart. “Now, where was I?” I lift my brows at McGraw then angle my head, slam my fist on the table, and take this interrogation into my own hands. “We’re a little over a week away from Cora’s birthday, which means that fucker will be coming to see you. Now, it’s my understanding that you’re a busy man, Dick,” I emphasize his name, because that’s exactly what he is: a dick. One with no goddamn balls. “Which leads me to believe that either he already has an appointment with you or one of your associates. All you have to do is give us the time and place, and we can be on our way. I can go back home to my woman and son, and you can go back to shoveling shit up people’s asses. What’s it going to be?” These people pulsate with the vitality of someone with air between their heads, and yet they know exactly what I’m talking about.

  “Look, Detective. I can’t begin to imagine what kind of life this has been for any of you. You know as well as I do that I can’t divulge that kind of information. What I can tell you is this. Feel free to have undercover officers show up outside my building on her birthday.” I cut him off before he has the chance to insult my intelligence.

  “Fuck you. How stupid do you think I am? Her birthday is on a Saturday. I know damn well you spend your Saturdays buried between this bitch’s legs instead of in your office.” I point my finger in the direction of his associate or whoever the hell she is to him. Fucking pigs. Both of them. This dickless asshole is married, has three grown daughters, and is fucking this bitch behind his wife’s back. I want to bitch slap him until he cowers in the corner for not taking his marital vows seriously. Fucker.

  “Are you spying on us?” Miss I’ll-fuck-anything starts to speak. Her words just cause me to snap.

  I tackle her question while ignoring her flapping jaws and startled, wide-eyed she’s-been-caught act and address this fool once again. “I’m a goddamn detective, that’s how. We’ve been busting our asses for days to find every piece of information we can find to bury you if you decided not to cooperate. Does Lenore, your wife, or your daughters know you’ve been fucking this bitch for over a year? If not, I have no problem showing them the evidence. I’m sure they’d be so proud to know you’re a lying, cheating asshole.” I have no idea where his daughters are or their names for that matter. Don’t really care. But if this man thinks I won’t show the pictures of his bare ass while he pounds this cunt from behind on his desk, then he’s sorely mistaken. Those images of his hairy ass are burned in my brain. I’d hate to do the same thing to them, but I’ll do whatever it takes to get to the man I desperately need to bring down.

  “Try it and see what kind of lawsuit I bring against you and this entire department,” he snarls.

  “Threating a cop is a crime. Threating a suspect who could possibly be involved in one is my job, buddy,” I tell him with vengeance pouring out of my mouth. I’m teetering on the edge of snapping his neck.

  Jesus, and these people are supposed to be good attorneys? The way I see it, the only decent person in his office is his secretary, who was happy to give up the information we needed. We already know Jesse is coming in for a nine-o-clock appointment on July 25th, Cora’s birthday. We just don’t know where the meeting is. The greedy fucker wants that big, fat check. We asked Richard to meet with us in hopes he would co-operate. See the wrong that’s been done here. Obviously, the rumors of how ruthless and cutthroat he is are true. He may be one bargaining motherfucker in the courtroom, but here he’s a pawn. A pussy who is going down. I’ll drag his ass from here to eternity if need be. I don’t give two fucks anymore whether it hurts his innocent family.

  “Leaking information that you have no proof of is a crime, Mr. Murdock,” Richard, who finally grows a set of balls to challenge me, speaks.

  “I have all the proof I need, pal. I also know that it’s against the law to harbor a fugitive. To not give up his whereabouts. And it is also against the law for you to give that man a dime when all the proof you need that Cora should be your client and not him is right the fuck in front of you. What the fuck is wrong with you? Is it your cut of the money?” I seethe.

  “It’s because of me.” My spine goes ramrod straight at the sound of Tyson’s voice, the door slamming behind h
im as he enters the room. I spin around, my eyes trying to meet his. He isn’t looking my way. His dark eyes are blazing at Richard, who now stands so abruptly that his chair clatters to the floor. The bitch beside him gasps in absolute shock.

  “What the fuck do you mean, because of you?” I say, confused as all hell as to why he is in here when he said he wanted nothing to do with this interrogation, which at the time I thought nothing of. Figured he knew that this was my deal so he would allow me to blow off some of the rage that is building inside of me by doing this myself.

  “Richard,” he addresses, calmly ignoring me altogether.

  “You rotten piece of shit. How dare you?” Richard strikes. My head is volleying back and forth between these two like an intense must-needed tennis point to win the match while they stare hatefully at one another. It’s goddamn intense in here.

  “What in the fuck? Tyson.” I break this gauging war to the side it should be on, mine, goddam it, by moving to stand directly in front of Tyson’s line of fire.

  “He’s Lynne’s father.” Tyson directs his attention to me, focusing on my reaction while I stumble backward as if he’s sucker-punched me. Which in my world he sure the fuck just did.

  “What the fuck? Jesus Christ,” I verbalize loudly, hiss at his words that have my head reeling. It all makes sense. Well, not really. It’s a goddamn soap opera. The days of our dramatic fucking lives are what they are. No wonder Tyson froze up when he did. No wonder he’s been distant since Jude found the lawyer’s name and said it out loud at my house.

  I quickly gather my shit together. Tyson owes me an explanation. One I intend to get. Not today, though. Whatever the fuck happened all those years ago will not be dragged out here. I may be shocked right now, but this is much more important than a war that should have ended years ago.

  “Whatever happened between us has nothing to do with this. If you’re holding back information because of me and my involvement in this investigation, then you are the son of a bitch I’ve always known you to be. There’s an eleven-year-old boy involved in this, Richard. One who just found out his father is alive. Take that into consideration, turn the table, and tell me how you would feel if you were standing in Riddick’s shoes. If it were Lynne and her child. I know better than anyone how much you love your daughter. For once in your goddamn pathetic life do the right thing.” For the first time since I’ve known the man, Tyson stands there staring at this dickhead and spills out more information than he has ever said about Lynne before. My head is reeling from it, yet not a damn word of it makes any sense. Especially the part of Richard being her father.

  “She’s happy, you motherfucker. Keep your distance from her. You hear me? Now, get this motherfucker out of my sight.” Richard adjusts his tie, uprights his chair, and sits down calmly as if Tyson was never in the room. The door slams shut with Tyson’s departure without him saying another word. The room fills with silence while I stare at the vacated spot my friend stood in, wondering what in the hell I just witnessed and what in God’s name has he been keeping from me.

  “Where’s Tyson?” I ask over the loud rustling noise of every damn cop in this precinct. I need to find his ass like right the fuck now.

  I want to thank him and choke the hell out of him. His short-fused words must have gotten through, because the minute he left, Richard confirmed that Jesse had indeed gotten ahold of him. However, they were not meeting at his office like he confirmed they had last time. They were meeting at Richard’s home, which he found odd. However, we sure as hell didn’t. Because he’s fucking lying. Jesse may have contacted him. However, he knows that piece of shit is coming for my family sooner than I thought. I can feel it in the pit of my gut, yet right now there isn’t a damn thing I can do but get my ass home.

  I’ll bet my life that bastard is calling Jesse right now, telling him I know every goddamn twist of his filthy knife. Every motherfucking lie he told. And here I am trying to find my friend to give me some goddamn answers, because that prick of a lawyer we had to let go of since there isn’t enough evidence gathered to hold him here, is as much in on this as Jesse is.

  Jesse doesn’t want to be seen in public. He has plans to take that money and disappear. I know it. I’ll give him credit for trying to play it smart. He knows he’s a dead man walking.

  “I don’t know, brother. What the hell is going on?” Jude’s voice drips with concern. He stops typing on his computer, pulls off his glasses, and regards me seriously.

  “I’m not sure,” I inform him. I’m not about to worry Jude over a situation I’m unsure of myself.

  “I’ll fill you in, Jude. You go home, Riddick. Take care of your family. I mean it. I don’t want to see your face until we have something. You get me?” McGraw scrutinizes me as well as answers Jude’s question.

  “I better be the first person you call if that fucker leads you to him.” I regard him in a matter-of-fact manner.

  “You will be.”

  “Find him, Jude.” I hold McGraw’s gaze, taking into account that once Jude is filled in, he won’t leave this place until he’s tracked Jesse down before he tries to come up with a way to get to Cora. Every lead has led to a dead end so far. Jude’s been at it for days. The exhaustion is written all over him.

  I grab my helmet from the seat at my desk, lift my chin, walk down the hall, and disappear out the side door before anyone can stop me by asking questions or offering their help.

  “I knew you’d come out that door.” Tyson gives way to his large body standing next to our bikes. Arms crossed over his chest, eyes flaring as if he’s the one who just received the shock of his life. I stop directly in front of him, and my goddamn heart hits the heated pavement, sizzling like a burned piece of meat when the anger I had earlier vanishes. The sadness in his eyes shows the opposite of his stature. The unshed tears are begging to fall from a man I thought I knew. A man who holds more secrets than the ones that have been flying at me left and right like the bullets in Afghanistan did all those years ago when we stood side by side ready to burn those that wronged our country into ashes. To mix them with the sand of the dry desert.

  “If you’re going to fill me in, can you do it fast? I need to get home.” I understand how bad he’s hurting. I’ve been there, but now is not the time for this.

  “I owe both you and Jude an explanation, and you’ll get it. The only thing you need to know right now is that motherfucker cannot be trusted. Whatever the fuck he told you may or may not be a lie. He’s a snake that will strike at any moment, especially when he feels trapped and, brother, I’m here to tell you, him seeing me will fuck this all to hell. He wants to pay me back for what he thinks I’ve done.” His words unnerve me. Every vertebra in my spine creaks, snaps, and scrapes across my spinal cord, causing my body to stop movement of any kind.

  We stand there for God knows how long staring at each other, my fucked-up mind trying to process it all. Conjecturing what the hell he thinks Tyson did when I know this man in front of me. He may be keeping shit from me, but there is no way he lied to me about her. She left him. She broke him. Shattered him. Buddies as close as we are have no reason to lie about shit like that. We have no reason to lie to each other at all. Especially when every step we took out there could have been our last. Every goddamn bloody burning breath we took could have been our last.

  “He said they were meeting at his house. Gave us an address, time,” I advise him sternly. I don’t have to acknowledge what he needs to tell me about Lynne. He’ll disclose it when what I’m dealing with is over. When we can make his situation a priority and help him, if that’s what he wants.

  “What address did he give you?” He lifts his brows, uncrosses his arms, and takes the paper with the address from my outstretched hand. “Yeah. That’s where they live. I’m telling you, man, he’s got his hands in this.” He hands it back as if it caught his hands on fire. “Let’s get you home. I’ll follow you. You can fill me in on everything when we get there.” “Tyson,” I say, hopeful m
y words come out the way I mean them to. “I don’t know how this is all going to go down but, brother, I trust you with their lives. If Jesse doesn’t try to get to her before Saturday, I’m going to need you to stake his house. You down with that?” I know damn well he is. No matter if Lynne were to be standing at the front door, he’d do his job before he’d acknowledge her presence. We’ve always had that sixth sense of perceiving what the other is thinking, the next move, the having each other’s back. It’s all part of the nuptials you have with the family you make when your next move could cost you or the man next to you his life. It’s the-pit-of-your-stomach, the I’ll-risk-my-life-for-yours feeling that sends you to your knees with the knowledge you aren’t alone. That everyone feels the same.

  I smirk when those words stumble on a lilt and a laugh out of his mouth followed by my code name.

  “I’ll always have your back, Murdock. Now, get on that pussy ass bike of yours and get your goddamn ass home. Besides, you know me, man. I’ll chop a goddamn snake’s head off before the first hiss slithers out of its mouth.”

  After pulling into my drive, I yank off my helmet and drag my hands down my face. “Shit. Time to meet her mom.” I’m not prepared to meet her. Not when all I want to do is grab my family and lock them up somewhere.

  It’s been several days of hell. Several days of brief encounters with Cora and one hell of a morning talking to Ethan about the birds and the bees. Thank God that kid is smart. All it took was my asking him how he felt about us sharing a room, and the eye rolls started coming. Along with the “Shit, now you’re worried about me, too,” flowing freely out of his mouth. I scoffed and went right into my unprepared speech with him anyway, because I wanted to. Told him that he was the best thing that happened to his mother and me, and everything happens for a reason. It was the first serious conversation I had with my son. One that many people hate having. It sure wasn’t my favorite topic, but it was necessary, and one I hope he listens to.

 

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