“Does that mean I get ten percent for introducing you guys?” I laugh, and he shakes his head. “I’m happy for you. It’s a great organization.”
“Yeah, I’m excited about it. My wife, not so much, since all of her family is here,” he says and then looks down and then up again. “She’s expecting.”
“Holy shit,” I say, holding up my hand and waiting for him to high-five me, and he beams with pride. “That’s crazy. Nico is the new owner, right? I heard about him taking over for his father. He has big plans for that club.”
“Yeah, it’s really early, and she doesn’t want to say anything.” He looks at the kids. “But fuck, I’m just so happy.”
“I’m happy for you,” I say, and then Matthew comes out of the back. “Stop stealing my people,” I say, and he laughs now.
“I have to go. I just wanted to tell you,” Ralph says. “See you later.”
He shakes Matthew’s hand and walks away.
“That was a good pick,” I say to Matthew who stands there in his track pants. He’s been at my side since this whole thing started. Actually, everyone has. All the men are hanging at the rink today. My father is teaching on the other ice with Max, and Evan is in the gym with mini Cooper.
“Where is Viktor?” I ask Matthew, and he looks down.
“He wanted to hit up a meeting,” he says, and I look at him. “At the church where Caroline works.” And just like that, I see that he went to make sure she is okay. “With Mom.”
My eyes open huge. “What?” I almost scream. “Why would he take her there?”
“Would you say no to her?” Matthew laughs. “The best part is that she didn’t tell Dad.”
“Oh my God,” I say, and then blow the whistle for the kids to get off the ice. “He’s going to lose his shit.”
“Yeah,” Matthew says, and we both know how protective my father is about my mother. He doesn’t let anything touch her that is bad. He shields her with everything he has. “Dinner will be interesting.”
I look toward the clock and see it’s lunchtime. “I’m dragging my ass today,” I say, getting off the ice. I walk through the hallway and peek into some of the rooms to make sure no kids are lingering.
“Oh, shit,” Matthew says, and I look at what he’s looking at, and I see that Caroline is charging into the arena with my mother following her. “This doesn’t look good,” he says. “I know that walk,” he continues. “It’s not a good walk.”
“I think she’s charging,” I say under my breath, and I see Caroline look around. When she finally spots me, I smile at her, but all she does is glare.
“Oh, I definitely know that look,” Matthew says. “Just say you're sorry.”
He tries to talk fast. “Doesn’t matter if you don’t know what it’s about, just say sorry.”
I look back, and she is in front of me now, and I see that she is even more beautiful. “Hey there, sweetheart,” I start softly, and she just crosses her arms over her chest.
“Don’t ‘hey there, sweetheart’ me.”
Matthew mumbles under his breath, “Say sorry.”
“Don’t you start.” My mother looks at Matthew, and he just holds up his hands.
“Why didn’t you tell me you got suspended?” she asks. “I can’t be in this if you aren’t going to be honest with me.”
“Okay, for one, being suspended isn’t that big of a deal,” I say. Sure, it pissed me off that my team didn’t have my back, and I have a call with the general manager set for next week where I plan to tell him exactly how I feel about this. “I honestly didn’t even think of it.”
“If you want me to work for you, there has to be a contract of sorts,” she starts saying, and I look at her. “When we are at work, I’m your employee and not your girlfriend.”
I am about to say something, and Matthew is the one who puffs out. “You’re his woman,” he says. “He’s not hiding that fact.” Caroline looks at him, and he puts his hands up. “Just stating the facts.”
“I’m not hiding that we are together, and if I want to come and say hello and give you a kiss, I’m going to come and give you a kiss.”
“You come and say hello during lunch, and if I’m on break, you can kiss me,” she negotiates.
“Fine,” I say, accepting it. I’m not about to tell her that I’m going to do what I want. I’ll ease her into it.
“Next, I gave up my apartment today,” she says, and I look at my mother, who just smiles. “So I’m basically homeless.”
“You aren’t homeless; you live with me,” I say.
“I told her that,” my mother chimes in. “It was silly for her to pay rent if she is never going back there.”
“Wait, you went to her place?” Matthew asks, and my mother nods her head. “Viktor is fired.”
“Oh, you stop that,” my mother says.
“I’m telling Dad,” Matthew says, and my mother laughs. “Not kidding.”
“Can we for a second get back to me?” Caroline says. “I want to pay rent.”
“Fuck no,” Matthew and I both say at the same time.
“Then I’ll buy food,” she counters.
“Sweetheart,” I start to say, and she glares at me.
“Then you cancel the cleaning lady.” She raises her eyebrows.
“Only if you quit your job at the motel.” It’s now my time to counter.
“Wait, you work two jobs?” Matthew says to her and shakes his head. “He lets you work two jobs.”
“I do,” she says, and Matthew just looks at me like how could you?
“Fine, I’ll quit the job at the motel, and in return, I’ll clean the apartment,” she says, and I nod.
“Sure,” I say, knowing full well that’s never going to happen. “What else?”
“Well,” she says and looks at my mother. “I bought you a gift.”
“Wait, what?” I say, and she hands me a white square box.
“Oh my God,” Matthew says. “If she proposes to you, I’m going to die, and you’ll never live it down.”
“Caroline,” I say, using her name.
“It’s not a ring,” she says. “And if it was, would you say no?”
“Say no,” Matthew says.
“Matthew Grant,” my mother says in warning.
“Mom,” he says, “don’t even.”
“It’s not a ring,” Caroline says. “God, it’s not a ring.”
“Then I’ll take it,” I say, taking the box from her and opening it. It’s a silver chain with a medallion on it.
“It’s Saint Christopher,” she says softly and steps closer to me, and I pick up the silver medallion with the saint on it and the words protect us on the bottom. “It’s not new,” she says, and she turns it over, and I read it.
Caroline & Dylan
“I love it,” I say. Taking it from me, she pulls it out of the box, and I bend for her to put it on me. I stand, and she puts her hand on it.
“Does this mean you are officially living with me?” I ask, taking her in my arms. “And you are going to work with me?”
“For you.” She raises her eyebrows.
“Same thing,” I say and kiss her, and Matthew just laughs.
“It’s not the same thing,” she says against my lips but wraps her arms around my neck while I pick her up.
That night, everything is back to normal, and the next day when we walk in together, it’s done with me not worrying about Andrew just popping up.
I don’t think I’ll see him until we are in court, and then one day when I run back to the SUV to get something, he is waiting beside it for me. I stop in my tracks, and Matthew pulls up at the same time, getting out of his car without turning it off.
“Relax,” Andrew says, holding his hands up. “I’m not here for anything.”
“Then you better get the fuck away from my brother,” Matthew says to him, and he smirks.
“What do you want, Andrew?” I ask him, standing here with my arms across my chest.
&n
bsp; “I’m here with a proposition,” he says, and I see he’s wearing the same clothes as on Sunday.
“You have nothing that I want,” I say, and he just laughs.
“Oh, that’s where you're wrong,” he says, waving his finger. “I have Dylan.”
“The fuck?” Matthew says from beside me, and my heart starts to speed faster.
“Ten thousand.” He says the number as if he’s selling a fucking car. “You give me ten k in cash, and I’ll sign over my rights to him.”
Oh my God. “Bullshit,” I say, trying not to smash his head into the truck.
“Get the papers ready and the cash, and I’ll sign it,” he says, shrugging.
“Tomorrow,” I say, and his eyes light up. “You show up at my attorney’s office tomorrow morning, and I’ll have your cash ready for you.”
“Twenty k,” he says fast.
“Ten,” I say it again. “Not a penny more.”
“Give me the address,” he says, and I grab the card from my SUV and hand it to him.
“I’ll be there at eight. If you aren’t there by eight thirty, the offer will never happen again.”
“Fine by me,” he says, smiling and snickering. “Kid’s been a dark cloud following me ever since he came into my life.” His hand comes up. “I’ll be there at eight.”
He turns around and walks away, and I finally let out the breath I was holding and put my hands on my knees. “Did he just sell his fucking kid for ten thousand dollars?”
“I would have given him everything I have,” I say, watching him disappear.
“You going to tell her about this?” he asks, and I shake my head.
“Not until he signs the papers,” I say, and he just looks at me. “Nothing until he signs.”
I don’t mention it again, and that night when I get to tuck Dylan in and tell him I love him and he hugs me back, I put my hand on the medallion hanging around my neck.
The next morning, I make a stupid excuse about hitting the gym with Matthew, and I can see right away that Caroline doesn’t believe me. But I kiss her and walk out to Matthew, who picks me up, except he’s picking me up in an SUV instead of his car, and when I get in, I look in the back seat and see that all the men are there. “You didn’t think you’d do this alone?” my father asks, and I don’t say anything.
We get to my lawyer’s office at ten minutes to eight, and every single minute that passes feels like an eternity. My father and Matthew sit beside the lawyer at the head of the table in the conference room. Evan, Viktor, Max, and Markos are sitting two by two in front of each other.
When it finally gets to eight, I start pacing back and forth, and at eight ten, he saunters into the office. “I fucking hate that fuck,” Max says.
“You got the money?” he asks, and Matthew just shakes his head.
“Not until you sign this.” I put the paper forward, and my lawyer speaks up.
“This is you signing away your parental rights,” he says. “You at no time can contact Dylan Woods.”
“Don’t want to see his face either,” he says as he signs on the dotted line, and I think my father is going to jump over the table.
“Are you sure you understand what I just said?” my lawyer asks, making sure that he gets all this on camera.
“Yeah,” Andrew says. “The fucking kid isn’t mine; he’s his problem now.” He motions to me with his head. “Now where is my cash?”
My lawyer hands him the envelope that I gave him when I came in, and Andrew opens it to see the bills. “Should have held out,” he says, turning around.
When he is finally out of the room, Evan stands up. “I think I’m literally going to be sick.” He puts his hand on his stomach.
“The guy just signed away a kid,” Markos says.
“He’s sick,” Viktor says, and we all look at him. “Relax, I don’t like him. I’m just saying that he’s a sick man.”
“I don’t give a fuck what you say.” Matthew looks at Viktor. “You’re in recovery. Would you sell baby Zara?”
“I would die before I gave her up,” he says without skipping a beat.
“The question now is when are you going to tell Caroline?” my father asks me.
“Tonight,” I say, and when the lawyer gives me a copy of the papers and I walk out of his office, I get sick right next to the car.
Chapter Forty
Caroline
“Caroline, can you please make sure that all emails have been verified?” Malika smiles at me.
I smile back at her. “I just did.” I give her the ones that have to be changed.
“It’s so good to finally have some real help here,” she says, turning and walking back to her own office. When I first started here, I thought I would just be answering the phone, but Justin stuck me in a office, and Malika came in with a coffee in one hand for her and another one for me, and she went through everything that we did. I was in awe with everything that Justin’s foundation does. I was also in shock when they told me that my salary was close to seventy-five thousand dollars.
“I’m just happy I haven’t messed things up too badly.” I smile when I hear voices, and look out of my office window, wondering if Justin is in. He was acting really weird the whole day yesterday, and this morning, he nearly ran out of the door.
When he went to bed last night, it was as if he wasn’t there. Even when we got lost in each other, something was missing. I tried to tell myself that he was tired. I tried to tell myself that it was nothing and all in my head, but this morning, he barely made eye contact with me, and my stomach dropped when he left without so much as a backward glance. In fact, he couldn’t run out fast enough.
“Hey.” I hear, and I am taken out of my daydream, and I smile when I see it’s him. “You almost done?”
“Yes,” I say. “I’m done.”
“Okay, I’ll be done in about fifteen,” he says, and then he looks at me and just fake smiles and my heart sinks.
I wait for him and Dylan to come and get me, and when he drives home, all I can do is look out the window. Dinner is quiet also, and he passes on going to the pool. I know it’s the end. When Dylan and I come back from the pool, he’s sitting outside, looking at the view. “We’re back.”
“Oh, yeah,” he says, and Dylan comes out, and he grabs him and brings him close to him and buries his face in his neck. “I love you,” he tells him, and then he puts him on his lap, facing out, and holds him as they watch the sun go down. I try not to sob. I try not to show my pain; after all, I’m good at hiding things. It’s only when I step under the shower do I allow the tears to fall.
Same story, just a prettier bathroom. I get out and get dressed, and when I walk out of the bathroom, he’s there sitting on the bed waiting for me. His eyes are down and papers are beside him, and I have to hold the doorframe to be able to stand. I love him so much that if me leaving is going to make him happy, I’ll do it. “Is everything okay?” I try to talk without my voice cracking.
“No,” he says and looks down at the floor, and my heart is shattered.
“I get it,” I say, and he looks up. “It was a whirlwind, and everything happened so fast.” He looks at me. “I’m just going to sleep with Dylan, and we can be out of here tomorrow.”
“What?” he says.
“I get it, Justin,” I say, the tears falling now. “It’s fine.” I smile, not wanting him to feel sorry for me or want to be with me because I’m crying. “We’ll be okay.”
“I’m so confused right now,” he says.
“It’s over.” I say it for him, although I shouldn’t. I should make him do the dirty work.
“What’s over?” he asks, confused, and I want to yell at him to stop pretending.
“Us.” I point at him and then myself. “This thing.”
“We aren’t over,” he says, scoffing at me even saying that. “Far from it.”
Now I’m the one who is confused. “Andrew came to see me.”
“What?” I look at him
and take a step forward.
He holds up the paper for me. “I did it for you,” he says. “For Dylan.”
My head spins as I try to think about what he did for us, what more can this man could do for us. I grab the paper in my shaking hands, and I unfold it and it looks like a case file and my eyes go line from line until I see the words.
Termination of Parental Rights.
My tears blur my sight, and I can’t continue reading it when I see Dylan’s name. My hands are shaking uncontrollably when I put one of them in front of my mouth. My body shakes now, and I can hear my teeth chattering. “What?”
“He came to me.” Tears roll down his own cheeks and he looks me in the eye. The anguish is written all over his face, the hurt, the pain everything is written on his face. “I’m so sorry.”
“For what?” I’m so confused. “Did you agree to let us go for this?” I shake the paper in my hand. “To have him out of Dylan’s life, you gave us up?”
“Sweetheart,” he says, his voice broken. “Never.” He looks down “He signed it for ten thousand dollars.”
The gasp comes out along with the sob, and I fall, shattered to the floor, and he comes to me. “I’m so sorry, I’m so, so sorry.”
The wail rips through me. “Why?” I can’t even think; I can’t see the paper in my hand crushed between us as he rocks me. “How could he? That’s his child. His blood,” I sob. “His son. Why?” I shake in his arms. “Me, I get, but Dylan, that sweet boy who doesn’t hurt anyone. Who accepts when all I can do is feed him peanut butter. The little boy who doesn’t care that he only got one Christmas gift or that his birthday gift this year was just a meal at McDonald’s and a visit to Dollar Tree. The boy who wore his shoes for two months more than he should have with a hole in the sole without saying anything because his dad’s fucking drug dealer came and took our rent. Or that we had to wear our shoes and gloves to bed one night because the heating got cut off in the spring, but it was still fucking snowing.” I close my eyes, thinking of Dylan. “My son, who doesn’t deserve any of this. Why?”
“I don’t know,” he says softly. “I have no idea, but I had to,” he says, broken. “Don’t hate me. Please don’t hate me.”
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