Blood trickles from my knuckles and drips onto the white tiles. Why not? Everything else in my life is tainted red.
“Owen, please. I’m really scared.”
Out of breath and aching everywhere, I collapse to the cool floor.
Sloane continues to bang on the door, screaming for me to open it and let her in.
“Just leave, Sloane! Get away from me.”
My own wife can’t bring herself to touch or look or talk to me. I’ll never be the man she used to think the world of. I disappointed her. Noah and Sawyer, too. More than anyone else, I disappointed myself.
I catch my image in a broken piece of mirror next to me, and what I see twists my stomach into knots. Thoughts of the jagged edge piercing the skin on my wrist taunt me. The relief would be instant.
Would the pain shut off instantly? My agony might, but everyone else’s would intensify tenfold.
I tear my gaze from the temptation and dig around in the storage shelves under the sink until I find what I’m looking for. After I plug the electric shaver into the wall outlet, I take the scissors from the drawer and start hacking at fistfuls of my hair.
The pounding and screaming from the other side of the door has stopped now.
It takes some time, but, eventually, all of my hair hits the floor. Well, most of it, anyway. What’s left now is not much longer than an inch or so. My blond hair lays all around me, mixed with broken remnants of our bathroom.
There’s no hiding my scars now. It won’t be a surprise, and it definitely won’t be forgotten. The whole world will know what I already do—I’m a mangled fucking failure.
When I stare at my reflection, I don’t see my regular self anymore which is exactly the point. It only makes sense I don’t recognize this man because I sure as hell don’t recognize this feeling inside of me.
Somewhat calmer than about twenty minutes ago, I clean up what I can and reluctantly leave the bathroom to get a garbage bag and broom to finish the job.
Sitting at the kitchen table, Lachlan, Sloane, and Noah fall into silence when I pass by to the linen closet.
“Whoa, mate. That’s a change. Everything okay?” Lachlan studies my head.
“Yep, all good.”
When I have the bag and broom in hand, I peek at Sloane. Her mouth hangs wide open, eyes red rimmed and puffy from crying. She’s looked like this so often lately, I’m beginning to think I’ll never see her green eyes shine again.
Noah’s expression stops me for half a second. He looks absolutely terrified. I didn’t think about him when I buzzed my hair. Didn’t think how different I would seem to him or how this might’ve affected him. Unfortunately, much like the rest of his new reality, he’ll just have to get used to his new uncle as well.
I offer my nephew a small grin and return to the bathroom to clean up the rest of the mess.
THREE
Sloane
Carbohydrates have become a new enemy of mine. I never thought I would get sick of eating home-cooked meals, but, for a few days following Sawyer’s funeral, family and friends have been popping in to check on all of us. Those people don’t come empty-handed. Not too many loved ones close to me have died before, but I’m quickly becoming familiar with the grieving process.
Bring food.
Lasagna won’t heal the ache crushing my heart or give Noah back his mother; nevertheless, it seems to make everyone else feel better about her death. So, with gratitude, I accept the casserole dish and add it to the chest freezer in the basement.
Chloe, the owner of the café near my antique restoration shop, Revamped, is the latest person to stop by our home.
It’s a relief when I open my front door to find her holding a tray of coffees and a pastry box. What a nice change from the casseroles and lasagna’s stockpiled downstairs.
“You didn’t have to bring anything, Chloe, but seriously thank you. I’m in desperate need of your caffeinated goodness. I miss my morning buzz from you.”
She follows me to the kitchen and places the tray and box on the island. “Trust me, the pleasure is all mine, Sloane. I seriously miss seeing your face every day.” She holds up a stack of envelopes. “I’ve gathered your mail from the shop. Thought I’d drop it off and check in on all of you. Make sure you’re all doing okay since the funeral.”
I shrug and try to force a smile to appear, but we both know it’s a fake, useless attempt. “We’re holding up as best as we can, I suppose. It still all seems like a bad nightmare and I’ll wake up any second. I’m waiting for Sawyer to burst through my front door. I’ve picked up the phone a hundred times to call her still. It’s so hard, I want to move on, but at the same time I don’t.”
“I’m so sorry, Sloane. I can’t imagine how this must be for you. I know how close you and Sawyer were. Where is everyone else?”
“Owen is asleep upstairs, and Noah’s in the backyard in the treehouse.” I stroll to the window to check on my nephew. He’s climbed out from the fort part to sit on one of the swings but he’s barely moving.
Owen built the entire playground and treehouse for Noah’s third birthday. It took him weeks because he needed to make sure it was safe and perfect for his nephew. Keeping Noah from seeing his present before the big reveal had been a challenge, but somehow we pulled it off. Every ounce of blood, sweat, and tears—all Owen’s—was worth it in the end I think.
“Okay buddy, you ready to see it?” Sawyer asks Noah who sits on the kitchen island eating animal crackers.
He tosses the rest of his snack behind him and throws his little arms in the air. “Yes! Show me. Show me. Show me!”
We all chuckle as Owen picks up crumbles from the floor. “Well, someone sure does sound excited. Maybe we should wait though. I don’t think you really want to see your super top-secret birthday surprise yet. Do you?”
“I do! I see now! Show me!” Noah shouts happily. Sawyer picks him up and places him on the ground, dusting off more crumbles from his shirt.
Owen stands in front of the back door, blocking anyone from going outside. “Okay. I’ll tell you what, you count to three, then I’ll open the door, and we’ll all run out to see the super top-secret birthday surprise. Capiche?”
“Captain Peach, Uncle O!” Noah responds. After a second of waiting, Noah turns to Sawyer. “You counted wif me, kay momma?”
She places her hands on his shoulders and kisses the top of his head. “Kay bud. One. Two. Three!”
Owen quickly opens the door, and we all scramble into the backyard and run towards Noah’s present.
“Wow. This is all mine?”
“That’s all yours, my love. Uncle Owen and Aunt Sloane are giving you this for your birthday. Uncle Owen built it all by himself.”
Noah runs to Owen, who is crouching near the slide, and hugs him with such force it knocks them both over.
“You know Noah’s spent nearly every free minute in that yard for almost three years? It’s his favorite place in the whole world. He would tell us all the time he wanted to move in there when he grew up.”
“He’s such a sweet boy. How’s he been holding up? I brought his favorite; vanilla bean scones.”
In spite of everything, a small chuckle escapes me and I shake my head. “What five-year-old boy’s favorite treat is a vanilla bean scone?”
Chloe smiles. “Sawyer’s boy.”
“Very true. She taught him well, didn’t she?” I take a deep breath, preparing myself to talk about Noah in-depth without crying which is nearly impossible. “He’s…he’s a wreck. I wish I could say he’s coping well, but he hasn’t spoken one single word since we left the hospital. Not one word to anyone. He barely eats. Lachlan sleeps in his bed with him because Noah can hardly be away from him. Noah clings to Lachlan, and he panics when his father is out of sight. You should have seen the battle today when Lachlan left a few minutes before you got here.”
“Noah’s lucky to have his father in his life. It really was fate he returned in your lives when he did. That chil
d out there is lucky to have all of you, Sloane. He’s still very much loved by his family.”
Chloe comes to stand beside me and watches Noah. “He’s trying to cope the only way he knows how. He’ll get there eventually. Don’t stress on what he’s not saying.” She puts her arm around me and rests her head on my shoulder. “Right now, he just needs a little bit of time and a lot of love.”
“If only it were so simple, I would give him just that, but Noah was the only person that saw who shot Sawyer and started the fire, and he can’t even tell the police any details. The only lead we have is locked up tight.”
“Are you sure? How much do you know of what he actually saw?”
“I mean, we don’t know for sure, but he had to have. He was in the room when Owen and Lachlan ran inside. Noah stood right next to her. He’s the only one who can help catch this guy. He has to know.”
“Guy? As in male?”
“Yeah, Lachlan and Owen both saw a guy leave the building during the fire that night. Neither of them were focused on his face. They just thought he was someone trying to get out of a burning building. The music was so loud no one heard a gun go off and they didn’t know Sawyer had been shot before a fire even started. They both agree if that was, in fact, who shot her, he was definitely a male.”
The front door opens and closes. “Hello?”
“Back here, Lach.”
“Ladies,” Lachlan glumly greets us as he enters the kitchen.
“Lachlan, you remember Chloe? She owns the café near Revamped. I’m not sure if you’ve formerly met.”
“It’s nice to officially meet you.”
Chloe rounds the island as Lachlan holds out his hand to shake hers. “Get that hand out of here, love,” she says, swiping his greeting away. “We hug in this family.” The woman brings Lachlan in, and he goes completely still.
Chloe has been like family since we moved here, and Sawyer and I became addicted to her coffee. She’s like the aunt I never had. With both of my parents only children, I appreciated it when she opened her cozy pocket of the universe for us. I’d been poking around for a great property to launch the shop. And she told us about the business location that went on the market near her.
After a moment, Lachlan goes limp and hugs her back. It’s obvious he still doesn’t know where he stands when it comes to Sawyer’s friends.
Everything happened so fast after he found her that he never really had the chance to fall back into her life. What little family and friends Sawyer had, besides Owen and me, didn’t know about Noah’s biological father. They knew enough to keep the subject off the table and that was that. I’m sure it came as quite the shock to find an older version of Noah holding him tightly at Sawyer’s funeral.
“Noah’s in the yard,” I tell Lachlan when Chloe finally let’s go of him.
“Yeah? How is he? Was he okay after I left?”
“He’s okay. Quiet, but okay. I asked if he wanted to get some fresh air, and he’s been on the swing for a little while. Kind of just sitting there.”
Lachlan walks to the window to check on his son and lets out a long sigh. “I actually need to talk to you and Owen for a minute about something important, if that’s okay.”
“I’ll just go say hi to Noah.” Chloe takes a scone from the box and places it on a napkin. “Let me see if I can get a little smile out of him.”
When she disappears outside, I turn to Lachlan. “Owen’s still asleep upstairs, but I can go wake him.”
He’s been taking sleeping pills to help him rest at night. He still wakes up screaming from his night terrors, so I don’t know why he bothers with the pills at all. Exhaustion takes over during the day, and he sleeps well into the afternoon. I tried to have a conversation with him yesterday about things he could do to help with the terrors, but he’s still not really talking to me after the meltdown the other day that lead him to buzzing his head. When he comes into a room, it still takes a second glance to recognize him. From the first day I met my best friend’s older brother, he’s had blond hair long enough to tuck behind his ears, or grip onto while our lips pressed together. It’s like part of his identity has been cut off.
“Ah, maybe you shouldn’t wake him up if he’s not getting sleep. I’ll just talk to you for now, and you can fill him in, yeah?”
“Yeah sure, that works. Have a seat.” I motion to the chairs tucked under the island and pass him a cup of coffee Chloe brought. “So, what’s going on? Is something wrong?”
“No, nothing’s wrong. I just wanted to let you both know the house I bought will be ready next week. When it is…Noah and I will both be moving there. It’s something the three of us haven’t actually discussed yet, and I don’t want to add any further stress for you two. So I wanted to let you know my plans.”
My heart beats erratically inside my chest. It never crossed my mind Noah wouldn’t be living next door anymore. He’s never been more than a few feet away. I don’t even know where Lachlan’s new house is or if Noah will have to switch schools. This is more than I can handle right now. I can’t stand the thought of losing anymore family or more changes.
“You’re moving into a different home? I knew you were looking when you first got here but…I just figured you would live at Sawy… next door with Noah... I didn’t know you were still planning to move away from here.”
“Yeah, at first that’s what I figured would happen, too, but, to be honest, being in that house…her house…I can’t. It’s too hard to have her everywhere. I feel like I stole her life from her in some way. Like I’m the replacement parent for Noah, and it doesn’t seem right. Besides, I think a change like this will be a good thing for him. It’s just a few streets over actually, on Timbercrest, so he’s still in the same school district. He’ll have the same friends. We can even do nightly dinners if you want. I’m still going to need some help getting to know his likes and dislikes, all the details. He’ll need you and Owen around him, too.”
For the briefest of moments, I resent Lachlan for coming back. If he never returned to California when he did, he wouldn’t have known about Noah. He wouldn’t be taking him from me right now. Owen isn’t going to be okay with this. I’m not okay with this. Owen’s been the only father-figure Noah’s ever known. What makes Lachlan think Noah will even want to move out of the only house he’s lived in? Maybe he’ll want to stay with us. Maybe he’ll ask to live with me and Owen and we can raise him. Lachlan could visit on the weekends or come for dinner some nights. That would be okay. I want to do that.
“Have you spoken with Noah about moving? I mean, he really loves his bedroom. He picked out those colors last year, and that house is the only one he’s ever known. I mean, please don’t get upset with me for saying this so frankly, but you’ve only known him for a few months. Like you said, you don’t even know the details. I’m not sure he’ll even want to move away from everything that makes him comfortable. Especially at a time like this…”
Lachlan takes another sip of coffee then starts to play with a ring on his thumb. “Last night, I brought up the subject. I told Noah I would be moving into a new home soon and asked if he wanted to come with me.”
“He actually spoke? What did he say?”
“He didn’t use words, no, but he nodded. I really think he needs distance, Sloane. And, I need for my son to get to know me and for me to know him out of that home. It’s just us now.”
I stand so fast my chair falls backward and bangs on the ceramic tiles. “No! It’s not just you two! He has me and he has Owen. We’re his family, we know him! We’ve been his only family since the day he was born! We’ve been here for everything.”
Lachlan jumps off his chair. “You don’t think I know that? It’s exactly why I said he still needs you. You’re taking this the wrong way.”
Owen stumbles into the kitchen, clearly groggy from just waking. “What’s going on? What’s with the yelling?”
“Tell him, Lach. Tell him you’re removing Noah from the only home he k
nows!”
“Christ, Sloane, you say it as though I’m kidnapping him. He’s my son, and he’s going to live with his father. He agreed to move with me; I gave him a choice. I’m not forcing him to come.”
“What do you mean? What are you guys talking about?” Owen grabs a coffee cup from the tray.
How the hell can he act so calmly when I’m ready to start throwing things?
Lachlan pinches the bridge of his nose. “I bought a house before…everything happened. I signed the deal the morning of your wedding, and it was supposed to be a surprise. I was going to tell Sawyer that night. Anyway, the house is going to be ready next week, and I’ve given this a lot of thought. Noah and I will be moving there when I get the keys.”
I wait with baited breath for Owen to explode. For him to beat the crap out of Lachlan or kick him out of our home or scream in his face for thinking something this preposterous. I wait for tears. I wait for signs of life from my husband. For some kind of reaction.
Anything.
Owen finally turns to me with an emotionless demeanor. “So? That’s why you’re so upset? Because he’s moving into a house he brought and Noah’s going with him? He has the right to his own kid. He is the father, remember?” Then, gutting me more than ever, he leaves the kitchen to go back upstairs.
His kid.
It utterly floors me he referred to his nephew as his kid. Like he’s just some random child and not the only blood relative Owen has left.
“Sloane.” Lachlan whispers my name as though he’s afraid to speak loud. “I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“Just go. Get out of my house.”
From the counter, I snatch a casserole dish Owen’s boss, Adam, brought earlier and storm away from Lachlan into the basement.
After shoving the dish in the chest-freezer, I slam the door shut and punch the lid. Then, I kick the bottom part, denting the front as I let out a scream.
Edges of Gone (The Gone Series Book 2) Page 2