by A. S. Teague
I dropped the hold I had on his jumpsuit and stepped back as he continued to scream, false panic lacing his voice. “He’s attacked me! He’s hurting me! Help.”
I stepped away from the table and laughed. “You are a fucking fool.”
He stopped yelling and peered at me with guarded eyes.
“You must think I’m dumb. I do have that tough guy that lacks any sense look about me. And you know, that’s probably true about a lot of things. But not when it comes to the people I care about.” I dropped my hands on the table and leaned forward. “And I care about Max. So, I’m no dumbass.”
“You just assaulted me.”
It was my turn to laugh and I did, heartily. “I’d hardly call that assault. And I don’t think anyone even saw it.” I glanced over my shoulder at where the officers were standing, deep in conversation with each other. “They never even heard you call them.”
“There’s cameras!” he said, his voice shrill. His eyes were panicked as they darted around the room.
He’d just admitted to me that the woman who had claimed to be a relative was not. Something I already knew, after doing a little bit of detective work. But I needed more than just a suspicion if I wanted to be able to go to a judge and demand custody of Max.
And now, I had it.
I pulled the wire out of my shirt, the very one that Rebecca had used six years ago, and dangled it in front of Joseph’s shocked face. “Got ya, motherfucker.”
I had insisted that Rebecca keep that stupid wire all these years and occasionally we would laugh at the lunacy that it was. I’d give her a hard time about it. I mean, who the hell wears a wire?
But, when it seemed like we were going to lose Max, that stupid piece of spy equipment had damn near called out to me from our closet, and I had known what needed to be done.
And, even though I still had an overwhelming urge to pummel his face in, I spun on a heel and walked away from the table, leaving Joseph staring after me, his mouth hanging open.
It had never felt so good to walk away from an opponent in my entire life.
Chapter Eleven
Rebecca
Three Months Later
“Max,” I whispered, brushing his unruly locks from his forehead. “Wake up.”
“Arghh…” He groaned, rolling away from me. “I don’t wanna get up.”
I laughed and straightened. “Okay then.” Even though he couldn’t see it, I shrugged a shoulder. “Guess we can skip the adoption hearing.”
The words were still echoing in the room when Max popped out of bed, his handsome face split wide with a grin.
“Oh, so maybe you do want to get up?” I crossed my arms but had to quickly unwind them when he launched himself at me. Our bodies collided, and I let out an ‘oomph’ as he looped his arms around my waist and squeezed.
“It’s really going to happen?” he asked, his words muffled by my chest.
I held him close and rested my chin on his head. “Yep. You’ll officially be a Hawke after the hearing.”
His shoulders shook as a sob slipped through his lips. I didn’t acknowledge the tears, just held him tight as the magnitude of what was going to happen today washed through him.
It had been three months since the day Ryker had managed to get Joseph to confess to having lied about the woman being Max’s aunt. My stomach clenched every time I thought about how close we’d come to truly losing Max. I had no doubt that if the woman Joseph had sent for him had been able to gain custody, we would have never seen him again.
Neither Ryker nor I had any clue as to why Joseph was so set on keeping custody of Max, but after talking with him at length about his life with his father, we’d come to the conclusion that Joseph Galloway was a man who had become bitter since the death of his wife.
He’d been a good man once. Max could remember a time when his dad didn’t drink. He remembered a time when his father played catch with him in the yard. And it broke my heart to watch him as he talked about those times. The way he would grin as he recalled the better times. And then the smile would fade, and sadness would creep in as he would recount the bad times.
The times when his dad would be passed out in the recliner for sometimes an entire day, leaving a nine-year-old child to fend for himself.
Joseph had fractured when he lost his wife. And just like Humpty Dumpty, no one was able to put him together again. Not even the son he refused to do the right thing for.
I held on to Max as long as he needed me to, but eventually he pulled away and ran a hand over his face. “When do we have to leave?” he asked, his voice still shaky.
“An hour.” I grasped his shoulders and peered into his red-rimmed eyes. “This is your last chance to change your mind. I want to make sure you are absolutely positive that this is what you want.” I held my breath as I waited for him to respond. I knew with a thousand percent certainty that I wanted Max Galloway to officially become my son. I’d known it from the moment the thought had crept into my mind. But I didn’t ever want him to do something because it was what someone else wanted again. He’d spent years doing everything his father wanted and never getting the love he deserved in return.
Max rolled his eyes and I grinned at the typical teenage response. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
“All of your fourteen years?” I rolled my eyes in return.
His chin jerked. “Yep, all of my fourteen years.”
I pulled him to me once more and gave him a quick squeeze before rushing from the room under the guise of letting him get ready. Really, I just didn’t want him to see me cry. Again.
The gavel connected with the wood of his desk and the judge proclaimed, “It is my distinct honor to announce that you are officially a member of the Hawke family.”
He smiled broadly at Max as the courtroom erupted in cheers. We were surrounded by our family, Gram at Ryker’s side, her frail arm looped through his with the loudest whoop of all.
I wrapped my arms around his waist and pulled him to me as Ryker gripped us both, sandwiching Max between the two of us. Our girls were at our hips, their tiny arms woven through our legs, and together we all held the newest member of our family as tightly as we could.
It had been three of the longest months of my life, worse even than the surprise pregnancy with Cinny while I was trying to take care of twins. I’d spent the entire time worried that Max’s biological father would find another way to get custody of his son back. Not only had he not tried to find another way to lie to the court systems, but once he’d been sentenced to years in prison, had contacted the social worker to relinquish rights to his son. I’d requested a meeting with him after that, but he’d refused to see me, instead leaving me sitting in the visitors room alone for an hour before I finally gave up.
About a week after that, a letter had come in the mail from him. It had been short and riddled with grammatical errors, but the sentiment had been profound.
He’d gotten sober and had come to the realization that he was no good for his son. It had broken my heart to read those words, true as they may be, but when he’d signed the letter with a simple, ‘thank you for loving my boy’ I’d known we wouldn’t have any more legal issues with Joseph Galloway.
When we finally peeled away from Max, he quietly looked back at where the judge was sitting and with a strong voice said, “Thank you, sir.”
The judge beamed as he said, “I see a lot of sad stories in my court room. But it’s days like today that make it all worth it. Take this new life you’ve been given, son, and do something big with it.”
I glanced at where Gram stood beside her boy wiping her eyes with a handkerchief and winked. If it hadn’t been for her and her wise words, we may not have been standing where we were today. She knew she was the catalyst for all of this and she’d never been too proud to remind us of it all. But this time, she just grinned at us and shook her head when I mouthed, ‘thank you.’
I looked back at where my son was addr
essing the judge and watched as Max’s bottom lip began to quiver. But, so much like Ryker already, he swallowed hard and jerked his chin.
“You bet I will.”
Epilogue
Ryker
I took a pull from my beer and leaned back in the chair, taking in the sight before me. The backyard was filled with people, children running and screaming, adults chatting with one another, all the while keeping a watchful eye on the kids but letting them enjoy the waning moments of the summer sun.
Rebecca’s dad was in his usual spot, manning the grill. A long spatula in one hand, he threw his head back in laughter at something his son Tripp said and then took a swig of his own drink. Reb and Sidney were lounging on an oversized blanket in the grass, both in shorts and a bikini top, working on their tans. Hattie was on her belly beside her mama, a book in hand, while her sisters gave chase to Olivia.
I finished off my beer and dropped it on the glass top table beside me and pulled another from the cooler. My eyes found their way back to my wife, which they so often did, and I watched as she pointed something out to Sidney across the yard. My gaze traveled to where she was gesturing and the small smile on my lips grew wide as I watched Max effortlessly take one of the new trainers in our gym to the ground.
The guy’s face was a mask of surprise as he pushed up from the grass and brushed his shorts off. He smiled and stuck his hand out, and although I was unable to hear what was said, I was pretty sure he was congratulating Max on a job well done.
Max’s face wasn’t smug. There wasn’t the slightest bit of boasting to be seen. He ducked his head and gave a nod and then shrugged and looked over his shoulder at me. When our eyes met, his face broke into a grin and he jerked a thumb at his opponent. I nodded and returned his smile.
Max’s smile was humble and almost timid, but mine was full of pride. The boy wasn’t just good, he was great and every day he got a little bit better. There was no doubt I was looking into the face of a kid who would one day be a champion.
He broke our gaze and said something to the trainer before he began to trot over to where I was sitting. “Dad!”
That simple word, one I had heard thousands of times from my girls, was something I’d never expected to hear from Max.
We’d both agreed that if he only ever called us Rebecca and Ryker, we would be okay with that, so after the adoption was finalized, we’d sat him down and told Max that he was to call us whatever he wanted. In front of the judge and a courtroom full of our family, we’d promised to love and care for Max Galloway, now Hawke, as though he had always been a member of our family. And that was exactly what we planned to do, no matter how he addressed us.
But, about two months ago, he’d started calling Rebecca mom. The first time he’d said it, I was sure Reb was going to die from happiness. He’d still called me Ryker, and that was okay with me. He had a father, and I’d never wanted to erase him from Max’s memory.
But then, one day last week, Max had been in the gym and had mastered a takedown he’d been working on for a while. He’d leapt to his feet, excited that he’d finally conquered the move that had been giving him so much trouble and began searching the gym. When he’d finally found me seated at Rebecca’s desk, he’d thrown his arms around my neck and shouted, “Dad, I did it!”
He’d frozen the moment he’d realized what he said, and I’d held my breath, trying to will myself to remain level-headed. The truth was, when I’d heard it, my chest had squeezed so tight I wasn’t sure I could get a breath in if I’d tried.
He’d leaned back, uncertainty in his eyes and asked, “Is it okay if I call you dad?”
It had been a miracle that the vice grip on my chest had loosened enough for me to assure him it was okay to call me that.
“Dad, did you see me take Luke down?” Max’s animated face broke my train of thought and I grinned.
Wrapping an arm around his shoulders, I ruffled his hair. “Hell, yeah, I did, kid. That was amazing. Not gonna be much longer before you’re ready for the pros.”
He started chattering on about how he’d done it, never moving from his place under my arm, and I tightened my hold on him, bringing him into my side and placing my lips on his head. He stopped talking and leaned back.
“What was that for?” he asked, peering at me out of the corner of his eye.
“You’re a good kid, you know that?”
His suspicion grew, something that made my stomach clench. We’d been learning over the last few months just how bad things had been at home and with every new detail that was revealed, my determination to make sure he had the best damn life possible increased.
“I mean it.” I waved my hand at the crowd of people, all of them there to celebrate Max, and continued, “You see all these people? They’re here today because you are worthy of their love and affection.” I pointed to where Breccan had joined Tripp and his dad. “Those men over there told me earlier that you’re going to be the best mixed martial artist the world’s ever seen. And, not just because you’re talented. But because you’re humble in victory and defeat. Something Breccan never mastered.”
Max chuckled and I gestured to where Cinny and Ellie were sitting with Olivia.
“And those little girls think you hung the moon. You’re the best big brother they could have ever asked for.” I jutted my chin in the direction of where Rebecca still sat with Sidney. She was no longer chatting, but watching us with wet eyes, no doubt having caught the affection between us. “And your mom over there? Rebecca has always seen a person for what they really were. There’s never been a person to get one over on her.” I paused and ran a hand through my hair. “Well, except me, that is. I got damn lucky that I was the one man who was able to get past her keen people reading skills.”
Max laughed heartily this time. “Yeah, you got lucky all right.”
I grinned and winked at my wife, who was still watching me like a hawk. “Damn right I did. Max, that woman saw the goodness in you a long time ago and she knew, even then, that you were special. She knew you deserved everything good in life and seven years ago started on a path to make sure you got it.”
The humor in Max’s eyes had been replaced with a seriousness that a typical fifteen-year-old wouldn’t even know how to possess. But Max had been through enough in his short life to know a good thing when he had it. And with a fierceness I’d never seen before, he pulled his gaze away from her and looked back at me. “She’s the best person I’ve ever known. I love her.”
I smiled. “Yeah, kid, me too.”
“I love you too, Dad.”
It was the first time he’d told me he loved me. I didn’t need to hear the words. I knew he did. I knew it by the way he always looked to me for reassurance. I knew it because he treated my girls like they were princesses and had vowed to me to watch out for them. I knew it because he worshipped Rebecca, always the first to offer her a helping hand.
I hadn’t known what our future would hold when Reb and I decided we wanted to officially make him a part of our family, but I knew that whatever it was, we would weather it together.
I wasn’t sure Max would ever fully recover from the years of abuse and neglect he’d experienced at the hands of his biological father. But, as he said those words to me for the first time, I knew his future was bright, and my life was immensely richer because he was a part of it.
The thought of raising a child with Max’s history was daunting, but if there was anything I’d learned over the years, it was that with Rebecca by my side, nothing would ever unravel us.
I blinked back the moisture in my eyes and cleared my throat as I said for the first time, “I love you too, Son.”
About the Author
A.S. Teague enjoys the warmth of sunny South Carolina with her husband and two daughters, seventeen and five (and no that huge age gap was not planned.)
When she’s not writing, you can find her in a nightgown binge watching Netflix and drinking Sauvignon Blanc in bed, which happens to be her
second favorite place in the world, right behind the beach.
Also by AS Teague
The Bars Between Us
When You Became Mine
The Hardest Route
Acknowledgments
A very special thank you to Erica Alexander for helping me format this box set. And for answering my questions, even though I kept saying that the last one was the last one.
Thank you to Sarah Ferguson and Social Butterfly for everything, especially for picking up my slack.
Thank you to all the readers, bloggers, and fellow authors that make this job so amazing.