by Jo Raven
The door of the shop chimes as it opens, and Tessa walks in. “Erin? Audrey says you have…“ Her face lights up. “Oh my God, is that Jax?”
“You knew,” Zane says accusingly, and Tessa shrugs. She tickles Jax’s cheek.
Jax starts to wiggle, and I swear his tiny boots must have steel toes. Wincing, I lower him to the ground, and he runs to check out the booths.
“Are the booths safe?” I start after him, but Zane takes my hand.
“All tools are locked away. It’s safe.”
“You had us fooled for years.” Rafe chuckles to himself. “Always thought Jax was your boyfriend.”
Yeah. I’m tired from the drive and all the emotions rocketing inside my head. “He’s been my secret all this time. I had him very young, and I thought he’d be safer and happier living with my parents.”
Audrey comes to take my other hand. “He’s amazing. You must be so proud of him.”
“I am.”
A heavy hand lands on my back, and I jerk. Asher appears in my line of sight. “Sorry about before. Looks like it’s a misunderstanding.”
“Damn right it is.” Zane lets go of my hand and pulls out his cell phone again. “Didn’t I tell you fuckers you should talk to each other more? Secrets are bad for your health.” He calls a number which I assume is Tyler’s, and clenches his jaw.
After a while, he pushes the cell back into his pocket. Still not answering.
I pull away from Audrey and try to call him from mine. It goes to voicemail and I hesitate. “Call me back, Tyler,” I finally say. “It’s a misunderstanding.”
The beep ending the message comes before I can think of more to say. I put the phone away.
“Where’s Tyler?” Tessa is pulling off her scarf, eyes scanning the shop. “How did he react?”
“Why should he react—?” Audrey snaps her mouth shut, then glances at Asher, who blinks.
“What?” he mutters.
“As I said, he reminds me of someone,” Zane says. “He has something of you, too, Ash.”
Does he? Asher’s face is handsome, and in the strong lines of his brows and jaw I think I see what makes him Tyler’s brother.
Jax’s uncle.
“You guys.” Tessa giggles. “You should see your faces.”
“Your face looked exactly the same when I told you,” I mutter as I lean to the side, trying to see Jax among the booths.
“He’s Tyler’s?” Asher asks, breathless.
Everyone is looking at me again. Do I even need to answer that?
“But that must be… he’s…” Audrey also glances around for Jax. “Three?”
“Yeah,” I whisper, and suddenly, fear grips me. “Jax! Where are you?”
“She must have been, what, fifteen when she had him?” Audrey is saying.
“Sixteen,” Tessa says. “She’s a year older than us.”
“And that was around the time Tyler left, right?”
“Yeah, but he didn’t know…”
Their voices fade as I walk through the booths, calling Jax’s name and checking under the tables and chairs and counters. The office is locked. I check the bathroom and come back to the front of the shop, empty-handed.
I feel dizzy. The door is open—a small crack, but maybe enough for a little boy to slip through. “Jax!”
“What’s going on?” Rafe grabs my arms, and I realize I’m stumbling. “Erin?”
“Jax is gone.” I tug on Rafe’s hold, trying to keep moving, and point a trembling finger at the door. “I think he got out.”
***
It must be cold, but I can’t feel it as I run down the street with Audrey and Asher, calling Jax’s name. Fear numbs my body and makes my thoughts spin slowly and out of control.
What kind of mother loses her son? Jax has to be so frightened. He’s in danger with cars speeding down the street and strangers passing him by.
If anything happens to him…
My cell rings, and I lift it to my ear. “Yeah?”
“Have you found him?” Zane yells into the phone.
“No. Where are you?”
“Returning to Damage. I’ll check one last time inside, in case he hid under the furniture or something.”
“Okay.” I disconnect and stop. “Let’s go back.”
We turn back and jog toward the shop. We enter, and I brace myself against the wall, trying to catch my breath. Audrey leans against the desk.
Asher immediately starts searching. He lifts tables, chairs, bends under the desk to look. I join him, checking again the booths, one by one, below the counters, behind the chairs. I look inside trash containers, behind doors. I see Rafe come out of the bathroom, but I go in and check anyway.
I just can’t believe this is happening. My pulse thunders inside my head. My mouth is dry with fear.
“Erin.” Zane walks around the booths, his face a stony mask. “He’s not here.”
My heart sinks. “I’m calling the police.”
I pull out my cell. My hands shake so badly I almost drop it. I turn back toward the shop front, and it’s all blurry. I realize tears are burning my eyes.
Then the door chimes. I dash the tears away and blink at the tall figure who has entered the shop. Wide shoulders, short dark hair, inky eyes.
And on one arm he’s holding Jax.
The cell phone drops from my hand and crashes to the floor. Tessa comes to take my hand, and Audrey takes the other, the guys flanking them.
“What’s this, a welcoming committee?” Tyler’s voice is rough, and his eyes glisten. He hefts the little boy easily, as if he weighs nothing.
“We were worried, fucker.” Zane nods at him. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” Tyler looks straight at me. “I gave it some thought and decided I’m done running. That I should stay and talk this over with Erin. Besides, I promised Ash I’m staying.”
Asher snorts and grins.
“Tyler…” I press a hand to my stomach. I think I might get an ulcer like my mother with all that’s been going on. “Where did you find him?”
“This little guy?” Tyler sounds bemused. “Right around the corner where I was parking my bike. Says his name’s Jax. Strange, huh?”
I nod, biting my lip because I want to laugh hysterically or sob. Maybe both. This isn’t the way I’d imagined them meeting.
Jax snuggles closer, one little arm hugging Tyler’s broad chest. Tyler stares down at him, a strange expression painted on his face, caught between tenderness and confusion.
“Thank you for bringing him back,” I whisper.
“Mommy.” Jax lifts his head and smiles at me.
“Is he yours, then?” Tyler’s eyes harden.
“Yes.”
But Tyler makes no move to give him to me, and Jax seems way too comfortable where he is.
“Tyler, man…” Rafe starts toward him, but Tyler lifts a hand, stopping him.
“Is he…?” Tyler swallows hard and glances back down at Jax’s tousled head resting on his shoulder. “Dammit, Erin, he looks a lot like me.”
“He’s your son.” I take a step closer, then another. “I should have told you. I’m sorry. I’m—”
Tyler unfolds a long arm and snags me around the waist, drawing me to his side. His scent of musk and pine mingles with the leather of his jacket, and it calms my racing heart. I put my arm around him and the other around Jax’s little form, who’s so content where he is he doesn’t even ask me to pick him up.
“So this is Jax.” Tyler sounds thoughtful, and I don’t know what he’s thinking.
“He likes you,” I mutter.
“He’s a cool kid.” Tyler grins. “Besides, he won’t let go.”
“I won’t, either.”
Tyler chuckles, a low, rumbling sound in his chest, and hugs me tighter. “I sure hope not.”
Does he mean it?
Then Jax lifts his head again and gives Tyler a solemn look. “Are you my daddy?”
I wait, my heart thumping
.
“Yeah,” Tyler says, his voice gruff. “Yeah, I am.”
“You’ve come back.”
Tyler nods, and his lashes look wet. “Yeah. It took me a long time, I know, but now I’m here.” He gazes at his son’s face and smiles. “And I promise I’ll stay.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Tyler
Wrapping my head around the fact I have a son is fucking hard. But I’ve seen him, held him, talked to him, and he’s an awesome little boy. Fearless. Outspoken. He looks like me. And he smells of sugar and candy, like his mom.
I can’t imagine what she must have gone through to have him. So young. Without me around to help. She must have been scared.
She’s stronger than me.
The weekend flies by. We spend most of our time at Erin’s and Zane’s apartment, with Jax and anyone else who cares to hang out with us. That means basically all the guys dropping by at different times. They bring food and drinks, and we put music. Everyone wants to play with Jax, and I feel so damn proud.
Which is absurd. I’ve just met him. But whenever he turns to me and says “Daddy!” I want to laugh out loud with joy.
I have a family. I have Erin, Asher and Jax. And I can’t remember ever being happier in my life.
After everyone’s gone and Jax is fast asleep, we talk. I tell Erin more about Uncle Jerry and my life in Chicago, about James and even Marlene to whom I have sent a message letting her know I’m with someone else and to fuck off. She hasn’t written since. As for James, I told him I’m not moving back to Chicago. He told me he had a gut feeling about it, so he already gave my job to the temp.
That fucker. Then again, I don’t plan on going back, so who cares?
In her turn, Erin told me more about the time I left—about finding out she was pregnant, about the hormone changes and terrible mood swings that led to the fight we had. Then we kiss until we pass out on the couch.
Sunday, I drive Erin’s car to her parents’ home. Erin is in the passenger seat, Jax in the back, and I feel like I’m traveling through a dream. I’m in a bit of a shock, I think. When we reach the house and Erin’s dad comes out to greet us, when he claps my back and tells me they’re glad to finally have me back, I stare at him, speechless.
Thank God he laughs and drags me inside. I remember Erin’s mom, a nice lady. When I pass through her cozy kitchen, I decide I’ve solved the mystery of Erin’s and Jax’s sugar scent. I bet Erin’s mom bakes cake every day. There are four of them on the table, decorated with icing and fruit.
We don’t stay long. Her parents offer coffee and cake—see, I knew it—and make small talk, asking how I’ve been, and what I do for a living. It’s obvious they know Jax is my son, but they don’t ask why I left.
During the conversation, I find out that having Jax wasn’t easy on Erin. She was in a clinic for two months before the birth and two weeks after, plus that cost a hell of a lot of dollars. And then Erin says she wants to leave college. Because of the debts.
Debts.
I sit up, shaking off my daze. “I’ll help.”
Erin glances at me, the gold and green flecks in her eyes lighting up. “Tyler…”
“I don’t have much, and I pay Ash something to help him finish school, but I have…” I glance at Jax who’s playing with a toy truck on the carpet, then back at Erin’s beautiful face. “I have my bike. It can bring me ten grand, maybe more, and I have my job at Damage Control, so…”
“Tyler, no.” Erin reaches for my hand and tangles her slender fingers with mine. “You love that bike.”
I do, it’s true. But… “Not as much as you.”
Silence settles in the room, and I hope I haven’t said something I shouldn’t have—but Erin presses a feather-light kiss to my cheek.
“Love you, Tyler Grayson.” Her smile is sweet. “We’ll talk about this later, okay? Don’t go selling your bike just yet.”
“As long as you don’t give up on your dreams,” I counter, holding her gaze, letting her know I’m serious. “We can do this together.”
“Oh, he’s a keeper, this one,” Erin’s mom says, and I feel my face heat. Why couldn’t I keep my mouth shut and talk to Erin later, in private?
But Erin nods. “Definitely a keeper,” she whispers and nothing else matters.
***
Monday afternoon finds me at Damage Control, at my usual spot behind the desk, welcoming customers, making appointments and wondering if the weekend really happened.
It must have, because I receive a message from Erin with a photo of Jax she took on Sunday at her parents’ house. He’s holding his red toy truck, lips pursed, eyes bright.
There’s a weight on my chest, but it feels good. I can’t stop smiling. Jax. He’ll be staying with his grandparents for now, as he’s used to, but we’ll have him over for the weekend again.
We should get an apartment together. We should—
Zane passes by and claps me on the shoulder, followed by Rafe. They stop in front of the desk and Zane gives me a once-over.
I scowl at him. “What?”
“You have a scar on your stomach,” he says without preamble.
What the fuck? I put down my phone, cold slicing through me. “Yeah, so?”
“But you didn’t cover it up with ink.”
I resist the urge to press a hand to my stomach, over the scar under discussion. “After I had my chest tattooed, I realize the ink wouldn’t really cover it completely. So I left it as it is.”
“It’s a good place,” Rafe says. “You’re right.”
“I have one that will fit just right.” Zane nods. “I’ll do it.”
I frown. “What are you two talking about?”
“I vote yes,” a familiar voice says, and Asher appears behind Zane. I didn’t even hear the door chimes.
Dylan is with him. “Fine by me,” he says and shoves purple-tipped bangs out of his face.
Slowly and deliberately I get up and fold my arms over my chest. I won’t say I look down at them from my six foot two—they’re all big guys. I swear Asher must still be growing because he’s almost my height, and the others are easily six foot tall, all of them. But I feel better standing, staring them in the face, than sitting down while they’re obviously discussing me.
“Care to explain?” I finally grind out when they mimic my stance, folding their arms and lifting their chins.
“We think you need a new tattoo,” Zane says.
“I don’t want more ink. Told you.”
“Didn’t say you wanted. Said you needed one, fucker.”
I narrow my eyes and clench my jaw. What the hell is he talking about? “I said no.”
“It’s a symbol,” Asher says quietly. He shrugs his jacket off, then pulls off his sweater and shirt. The hell?
I blink. He has a big black dragon inked on his chest and shoulder. He didn’t have this four years ago, when I left.
Then again, back then I had no ink either, and look at me now.
“Symbol for what?”
“Survival,” Zane says. “We each have a dragon inked on us, to remind us of it.”
“What doesn’t kill me makes me stronger and all that bullshit?” I drawl, a bit confused and annoyed by it.
“What doesn’t kill me can kiss my ass,” Rafe mutters, and I stifle a snort.
“It’s a brotherhood, motherfucker.” Zane advances on me and pushes me a step back. “We are brothers. Pain has made us so. We stand by each other. Pull each other up when we fall. We are the family we never had. Are you in?”
My gaze passes from Asher to Rafe to Dylan and back to Zane. “Are you serious?”
“Damn right I am. You need that ink. Because you’re family.”
I let my hands drop to my sides. I’m familiar with the sting of the tattoo gun. I’m familiar with pain in many forms. That doesn’t frighten me. But this is more than that. It’s not about covering my scar. It’s about showing everyone who I am and where I belong.
Asher nods
at me, and I tip my head.
“Okay,” I whisper. “I’m in.”
“Fucking awesome,” Zane mutters, his face splitting in a grin. “Five’s a good number. We’ll be the five musketeers, or something.”
“The musketeers were three, plus D’Artagnan, four,” Rafe says.
“And who gives a fuck?” Zane shrugs. “Welcome to the brotherhood, Tyler.”
The others gather around, clapping me on the back, and it strikes me that I’ve gone from having no one in the world, no one to care if I was found dead on the street one day, to having such a damn big family.
I ruffle Asher’s hair like I used to do when he was a kid, and he knocks my hand away.
“Take him in,” he says, and suddenly I’m airborne, lifted off the ground on three pairs of strong arms.
“Fuck.” I struggle as I’m carried toward the booths.
“Stop fighting it,” Asher says, following us as I’m carried into an empty booth and deposited on a chair. “You’re one of us.”
“I’m not fighting it.”
“Are you sure?” Zane lifts a dark brow.
“Yeah.” I pull my shirt off, exposing my scars and my ink. I’ve got nothing to hide anymore.
“This ink will be badass,” Zane announces, grabbing the tattoo gun and baring his teeth. “All for one, and one for all, fuckers.”
***
It’s late when I ring Erin’s bell, and I hope I’m not waking her up. She said I should just come over when I’m done with work, but the tattoo took time, and it’s now closer to midnight.
The lock clicks off, and she opens the door, dressed in my favorite tiny shorts and see-through white blouse. She smiles.
My blood beats faster as I step inside, running hot under my skin. It feels like weeks since I’ve been with her, and with Jax here, we barely even kissed.
Now it’s just us and as her subtle candy scent reaches my senses, I can’t think of anything else but kissing her, tasting her, taking her.
She steps back and I follow her, shrugging off my jacket and pulling off my sweater. I catch up in two strides and press her against the wall, my hands landing on either side of her face, framing it. My mouth crashes on hers, and my tongue plunges deep as I mold my hard body to her softer one. My inked stomach stings, but I ignore it. Her nipples tighten, biting into my chest, and she gasps in my mouth.