Blackest Night (Shades of Death Book 3)

by Stephanie Hoffman McManus

  Fucking hell. They were real assholes. Eli shouldn’t have known any of this. They should have kept their shit away from him.

  “Would you like to have a nanny again who comes and stays with you on nights I have to work? If I make sure she’s a good nanny who will play games with you?”

  “Can it be Cassie?” he asked, with big hopeful blue eyes, a shade brighter than my own.

  “No, it can’t be Cassie, bud. She has another job.”

  “But she plays games with me.”

  “I know she does,” I sighed, and felt myself caving. “How about I teach you to play Battleship right now, and then we’ll call Cassie and see if she can come over tonight. We’ll figure out the nanny thing this week. Sound like a plan?”

  He nodded excitedly. “But it’s okay if you can’t find a nanny right away, Dad. Cassie can keep coming over until you do.”

  “Go wash the syrup off your hands and then we’ll play Battleship.”

  He shoved his stool back from the breakfast counter and hopped off.

  Shit. Had I just agreed to call Cassie again? Maybe it was really me that needed to see her, and Eli was my excuse.

  When he came back, we played several games of Battleship until he got the hang of it and could hold his own. Then, as promised, I handed him my phone and let him make the call to Cassie. His face fell slightly when she didn’t answer.

  “She might be at work right now. I’ll text her.” It was also possible she just wouldn’t answer my calls.

  “Or we can go see her at work. I can get another cupcake,” he was quick to suggest.

  Man, I needed to quit letting this kid walk all over me, but it was hard. I just wanted him to be happy. “Okay little man, we’ll go see Cassie and get a cupcake. Dad has to run a few errands anyway. We need to get you some school supplies. And we still haven’t gone to pick out paint yet.” Too many other things had gotten in the way of our plans to start redecorating.

  Our stop at the coffee shop was brief. Long enough for us to get in, and for Eli to ask Cassie if she would come over again tonight. She couldn’t, or wouldn’t, look me in the eye. Not even when she took my money to pay for Eli’s cupcake. I was sure she breathed a sigh of relief when we walked back out of the shop, but she’d agreed to watch Eli again, so he was happy.

  Our next stop was the hardware store where I bought all the supplies we needed to get started on our projects, and several gallon buckets of various colors of paint. Eli picked cardinal red and navy for his room. For mine, with a little guidance, he chose grey and slate blue. To cover the hideous pinkish orange color downstairs, I convinced him something light and neutral would be best to offset the other tan walls. He took ten minutes to decide between two shades of off white that I swore were the same. One was vanilla something or other, and the other whipped cream. Whipped cream came out on top, and I wasn’t surprised when he asked if we could go for ice cream sundaes after we left the hardware store.

  “Lunch, then maybe ice cream,” I told him. “But first, we still need to get school supplies so you’re ready to start on Monday.”

  He took twice as long deciding between pencils and pencil cases and markers as he did paint. By the time we grabbed lunch and then ice cream, there wasn’t much time before I had to leave for work.

  “Can we start painting right now?” Eli asked while helping me to lug the cans of paint from my truck into the house.

  “Painting will have to wait until tomorrow, bud. I have to get ready for work. But tomorrow I have the entire day off. We can paint as much as you want. And pretty soon, Uncle Spencer will be hiring more guys to work with us, and then I’ll get an extra day off every week, so I won’t be gone as many nights.”

  “I don’t like it when you’re not here at bedtime,” he admitted shamefully.

  I set down the buckets I was carrying just inside the door, and knelt in front of him, setting a hand on his shoulder. “I know you don’t, bud. I don’t like when I’m not here at bedtime to tuck you in either. Now that you’re going to be in school during the week, I’m going to try and get my schedule worked out so that on some days I’ll go to work in the morning and get home not long after you get out of school. Would that be better?”

  “You can do that?”

  I nodded. “Not every day, but some days. It would mean someone else would have to come over early in the morning to wake you up, make you breakfast and get you off to school. But I’d be home at dinner time and bedtime.”

  “I want you to be home for dinner and bedtime.”

  “Okay, I’ll see what I can do to make that happen.” I ruffled his shaggy hair and stood. “I think tomorrow we need to get you a haircut too.”

  “Can I have a mohawk?”

  “We’ll see,” I blew out a resigned breath, knowing full well my kid would probably walk out of the barber shop with a damn mohawk tomorrow.

  Cassie showed up and still wouldn’t look at me. I didn’t have the time to try and talk to her, nor did I even know what the hell I’d say. After a quick goodbye to Eli, I had to rush out the door. On the drive, I called Spence and asked him about changing up the schedule during the week. He said it wouldn’t be a problem. One of our new guys, Benson, a former SWAT officer, had made it through his probationary trial and was now on the rotation as one of us instead of a grunt guy. Having him in the field would lighten everyone else’s hours and workload. Which was good, because James was in serious need of a day off. Or a new assignment.

  He was in an especially foul mood when I showed up on set to relieve him. If he didn’t get that day off soon, he would kill the client and then the stalker ex-boyfriend wouldn’t be an issue.

  “She doesn’t listen to a fucking word I say,” he growled, and then I had to listen to him bitch for the next ten minutes about the Princess’ behavior today. It was just the same old shit, but James let it get to him every single time.

  Riley poked her head out of her trailer when he was leaving to wave goodbye with a grin. I swear there was smoke coming out of his ears as he stormed off set.

  “You gotta take it easy on the guy, Princess.”

  “Where’s the fun in that?” she smirked.

  “You keep torturing him and I’m not sure you’ll like what happens. You could just put the both of you out of your misery and fire him. Get our boss to put someone else on point for you.”

  “James is good at his job, yes?”

  “He is. Very good. Although, I’m surprised you think so.”

  “Then I don’t want someone else. Besides, giving him shit is the only bright spot in my life these days.”

  “You don’t like the way your life is going, make changes Princess. Simple as that.”

  “If only it really were that simple,” she mumbled. “And I hate it when you guys call me Princess.” With that, she shut herself back inside the trailer. Her little red headed assistant appeared a few minutes later to let me know what Riley’s schedule was like the rest of the evening. As always, it promised to be an uneventful night, but there were worse places to hang out than a movie set. There was always a lot going on, which kept it from being dull. Today, they were going to be doing some filming at another location.

  Watching Riley work, it couldn’t be said that she was a terrible actress. Girl was good at her job, but the success and fame had gone to her head and the once small-town girl was now a full-blown diva most of the time.

  Good acting or not, I still wouldn’t be going to see this movie when it came out. Hit a little too close to home, especially seeing Riley made up to look as much like Nora as possible. I didn’t know Nora then, but she was family now, and the shit she went through still sickened me. Her and Em both. I shook my head not even wanting those dark thoughts to enter my mind.

  I didn’t know how Spencer had let the guy sit in prison for over a year without having him offed. I would’ve on day one. Spencer wasn’t me, though. Unless he was responsible for the inmate that finally did the guy in two months ago. Shit, it cou
ld have been Camden for all I knew. If either of them was behind it though, they didn’t speak of it to me. But not a damn tear was shed over that piece of garbage.

  Eight

  Cassie

  Eli and I stood side by side, staring at the project before us, trying to decide how best to tackle it. “You’re sure your dad said I could help you paint?”

  “Yep,” he nodded.

  “Then, I think we should move everything to that wall,” I pointed, “and start with this one.”

  “Okay, let’s go get the paint.” He dashed for the door.

  “Whoa, slow down. We need to move the dresser and your toy bins out of the way, so we can cover the carpet first.” I was thankful the dresser wasn’t as laden down as it could have been, since I had to do all the heavy lifting and shoving. Eli had informed me that most of his belongings were still somewhere between here and Texas. It made getting everything to one side of the room much easier since there really wasn’t a lot to move.

  “What do you think? Should this wall be red or blue?” I asked once we had half of the room clear and the carpet protected with a plastic drop cloth.

  After a second of squinting at the wall and eyeing the cans of paint, he said definitively, “Blue.”

  “I agree. I think we should do all the walls blue, except the one by your bed. That one should be red, and the trim around your closet should be red too.” Eli was all for it, so with the plan in place, we started filling paint trays and got to work.

  “Should we paint Daddy’s room too?” Eli asked once we were halfway through applying the first coat to one blue wall.

  “I think we better leave your Dad’s room to you and him. Besides, it’s going to take us all day just to finish yours.” And it did, especially since Eli grew bored with painting pretty quickly. He preferred to sit on his bed with a box of crackers and watch me work and tell me when I needed to go over a spot again.

  “I’m about to come over there and paint you,” I told him after he made me go over the same spot three times. He giggled and shoved more crackers in his mouth.

  My dad was a handy guy and had tackled all the home projects Mom got in her head, so this wasn’t my first paint rodeo. I was by no means a professional, but once the last bit of taupe wall disappeared beneath red, I stepped back and admired our work. I was impressed, and Eli was too.

  Before we put the paint away and rearranged everything again, I got an idea. I pulled Eli over to the corner by his closet, had him dip his hands in the red paint and then press handprints to the blue wall that had partially dried.

  “There, now it really is your room.”

  He smiled and admired his handprints, before looking from his red palms to me with a mischievous glint in his eye. “I don’t think so. Those red hands better not touch anything else.” I marched him to the bathroom where we washed his hands and then all the brushes. By then, we’d both worked up an appetite.

  “I don’t feel much like cooking,” I told him. “What do you say we go over to my house and see what my Grandma made for dinner?”

  Eli loved my plan, and I figured it would make Grandmama happy since she still hadn’t given up on the idea of cooking a meal for Eli and Nikolai. Bringing one out of the two over would have to suffice, and it would be a more pleasant meal this way, anyway. I called her to give her the heads up that we were coming.

  “Is your grandma nice like you?” Eli asked as we were leaving the house. Since I still didn’t have a key, we locked up the front door and slipped out the back door and went through the gate.

  “She’s even nicer than me and I think she’ll like you a lot.”

  “Do you think she made chicken nuggets?”

  I chuckled. “I don’t know, but she’s a really good cook.”

  Eli asked a hundred more questions about my grandma and our house on the drive over.

  “Do you live far?”

  “What color is your house?”

  “Is it a big house?”

  “Is your grandma really old? My grandma is old, and she lives in Maine, so I don’t see her very much. I saw her at the funeral. She’s my mom’s mom. My dad’s mom died when he was a kid I think.”

  “Does your mom live with you too?”

  We pulled up outside before he ran out of questions. “We’re here,” I announced.

  “I like your house,” he said as we got out of the car.

  Grandmama was thrilled to see us when we walked through the door, even spattered in red and blue paint as we were. She doted on Eli like I knew she would, and he loved that she’d baked cookies and that he got to have one before dinner. I think it even made up for the fact that we weren’t having chicken nuggets, not that he complained when Grandmama served up baked ham and homemade mac and cheese and sautéed green beans fresh from the garden.

  After dinner, there were more milk and cookies and then Grandmama told Eli he could come back any time he wanted. On our way back to his house, we stopped off to rent a movie, so the rest of our evening was set.

  I turned off all the lights and curled up on the couch with Eli snuggled into my side, his favorite fuzzy, super hero blanket wrapped around him, and his stuffed tiger in his lap. We weren’t halfway through the movie before his eyes got droopy and he stretched out with his head in my lap. By the end credits he was sound asleep. Rather than move him, I left him where he was and flipped through the guide.

  I fell asleep some time before midnight and woke again to Nikolai coming in the door. He hit the soft light in the entry and took in Eli and I both curled up on the couch. I gently shifted him off my lap, so I could get up.

  “He was great tonight, but he always is,” I said softly.

  His eyes inspected me. “Why do you have paint all over your face and clothes?”

  “Because we painted Eli’s bedroom,” I said, slightly nervous. “He said you okayed it.” From the slightly surprised and irritated look on Nikolai’s face, I was beginning to doubt it was true.

  “Maybe next time, before you listen to the seven-year-old, you should check with me,” he said gruffly.

  “Sorry, I thought I was helping,” I muttered and grabbed my purse from the table. “By the way, I’m not the only one who wasn’t careful not to get messy tonight.” My eyes dropped to the smears around the collar of his grey shirt. “What is that shade? Slut red? And . . .” I pretended to take a closer look, “Fake Barbie Bronze?”

  He glanced down as if noticing for the first time that whatever bimbo he’d gotten cozy with tonight had left behind half her makeup on his shirt. I clenched my jaw, and ignored the sting. “It’d be such a shame if you picked up something from one them that made your dick fall off.” I gave him a false smile.

  He smirked in return. “Jealous looks cute on you, pet, but the makeup is Riley’s. We ran into a bit of trouble with some paparazzi tonight. The makeup probably rubbed off when I was getting her into the hotel. The way they cake it on for filming, it’s no wonder it’s all over me. So, don’t worry, my dick is just fine, but if you’re so concerned, you’re welcome to check for yourself,” he raised his brow and grinned in offer.

  I snorted and shoved past him, and then, seeing the innocent little boy sleeping soundly on the couch, I spun back around, full of righteous anger and started whisper yelling at him. “You know, you’re what’s wrong with the world. You have zero respect for women. To you, we’re just toys to be used for your pleasure and then discarded when you’re done or a new one comes along. You’re not capable of real fucking feelings, and the sad part is, that’s what that sweet little boy is going to see.” I jabbed my finger in the direction of the couch. “That’s the example you’re setting for him, and eventually he’s going to stop being the sweet little boy that I can’t help but adore because he is nothing like you, and he’ll turn into you. And that, is a damn shame. The world needs more sweetness. Not more of you.”

  He took two angry strides toward me, eating up the distance between us that had bolstered my courage a sec
ond ago. “Don’t presume to know what I am teaching my son. You don’t get to walk into my life, spend ten seconds in it, and start passing your fucking hypocritical judgements.”

  “Now I’m a hypocrite?” I hissed.

  His furious glare morphed into a smug sneer. “You want to get in my face? Judge me for coming in with makeup on my shirt? You’re the one who was fucking around with two different people back to back nights. You want me to respect you? Start by showing some self-respect. Don’t let any asshole with a penis into your pants. You can squint those angry eyes at me all you want, darling, but you’re no better than me.”

  My eyes stung as angry tears welled, but I’d be damned if I let him see a single one fall. “Maybe I’m not, but at least I give a shit about how I treat people.”

  “You jumped on me tonight, because you were fucking jealous. You want to call me on shit that isn’t even true, you can be damn sure I’m going to call you on your bullshit.”

  “Whatever,” I let out a bitter laugh. “Think what you want about me. Maybe we’re both wrong because all we ever see is the worst side of each other. Sometimes, most of the time, I wish I’d never even met you.”

  His brows knit together, and his mouth drew into a tight line. I skirted around him to the door, and then, with my hand on the handle, muttered over my shoulder. “All I was trying to do was forget.”

  “Forget?”

  I looked back at him. “Yes. I wanted to forget him. I wanted to know if I could still feel something. You were the first person since him, and you showed me I could. You showed me I could feel worse.”

  He started to say something, but didn’t get the chance. Muffled little cries filled the room, startling us both. Our gazes were pulled to the couch and the soft whimpers that turned into full sobs and wrenched Eli out of sleep. He sat up, looked around the room until he found us, tears pouring down his red cheeks.

  Nikolai was beside the couch in the next instant, tugging Eli into his arms, asking him what was the matter. I wanted to go to him too, but it wasn’t my place. I wasn’t anyone to either of them. Eli’s tortured voice broke through the cries, “He wanted to hurt me. He was going to get me like he got Mommy.”