VEGAS follows you home

by Sadie Grubor

  "Maybe," she states in a singsong voice. Suddenly jumping up from her spot on the floor, she looks down at us. "I'll see you two tomorrow, okay?"

  "Sure thing. I think I’m going to take Alex to the park tomorrow afternoon. So, I'll be down a lot earlier than normal and then take off for a couple hours. I want to get him outside again before it starts getting cold."

  She nods, leans over, and kisses Alex on the top of his head.

  "Ced," he giggles, pulling away from her kiss.

  "Later, gators," she shouts and walks out of the room.

  "Bye," I yell.

  Alex mimics, yelling, "Buh."

  After Ced leaves, it's time to clean up blocks, bathe, and read to Alex before he goes to bed.

  The next morning, I work alone for almost two hours. Mercedes and Mrs. Dorn arrive half an hour before Sarah and Emily stroll in together. Greg follows a bit later. With a normal workload ahead of us, we work hard to bust out a few cakes and other baked goods. Mercedes and I even have time to go over the menu for the upcoming event.

  Retreating to my apartment, I'm a bit relieved to find that Alex is still asleep.

  "Yes," I whisper, tiptoeing down the hall, "I have time for a little nap."

  Settling onto the overstuffed couch I refuse to replace until Alex is older, I close my eyes.

  "Momma!"

  "Of course," I groan.

  "Momma!" The squeak of his mattress accompanies his shout.

  After yawning and stretching, I pull my body from the couch.

  "I'm coming, jumping bean."

  Upon entering his room, the scene is just how I expected. His hair is messy, smile super wide, dimples deeply set, and his legs are pumping up and down on the crib mattress.

  "Momma!" he giggles when he sees me.

  One more yawn creeps up on me as I pick him up and out of the crib.

  "Come here." I kiss his head. "You want some cereal and bananas?"

  "Nanas,” he cheers.

  After breakfast, I dress us both for the September weather. Luckily, it’s a warmer fall day. Tossing my wallet into the baby backpack, we head out the door, the umbrella stroller hanging over my forearm. After one quick text to Mercedes, telling her we left and when we planned to return, I slide the phone into the pocket on the side of the pack.

  Lucky to have a space located in Robinson Township, just a few minutes from the major shopping centers, we can walk the short distance to the park. And when we arrive, Alex runs for the slide.

  After an hour of playtime, it's time to round up Alex. "Come on, little man. We need to get back."

  "No!" he shouts, running for the stairs leading to the slides.

  "I really hate that you learned that word," I growl, rushing after him. "Now, come on. We've been here for almost two hours. It's time to get back."

  He's halfway up the stairs when I wrap my arm around his waist and pick him up.

  "NO!" he screams, kicking his little legs.

  "Alexander Isaac!"

  At the tone of my voice, he stops the tantrum for a split second.

  "Stop it, right now."

  He starts right back up, kicking and screaming bloody murder.

  Using the mother of all death grips to keep him from getting free, I pop open the umbrella stroller with my free hand. I lift my foot, locking the bar between the wheels into place.

  "Settle down, mister," I scold, placing his squirming body into the canvas seat.

  He struggles against me, screaming as loud as possible while I strap him in with the harness. The snap of the plastic locks and he completely loses his mind, stretching his body out as far as he can in an attempt to escape the harness. With a deep, do-not-kill-my-child breath, I move behind the stroller and start pushing us away from the playground.

  The walk home is unpleasant; joggers and other mothers staring at the screaming banshee I'm pushing along. Remembering the snacks in the backpack, I pull out the little carry cup that latches to the side of the stroller.

  It's amazing how fruit snacks can exercise the demon from a possessed toddler. By the time we return home, he's covered in sticky fruit snack slobber and yawning. Instead of going to the side stairs to enter the apartment, we enter through the storefront doors.

  "There's my favorite boy!" Mrs. Dorn exclaims, rounding the bakery case with her arms stretched out toward Alex.

  "Hey there, big man," Joe, a local plumber and frequent patron, waves to Alex.

  "Oh, look at you," Mrs. Dorn laughs, taking Alex into her arms and examining the stickiness on his face. "Let's get you cleaned up."

  "Looks like the boy had some fun," Joe says.

  "Yes, he did." I smile. "How are you today?"

  "Same ol’, same 'ol." He returns to his coffee and newspaper.

  I fold the stroller and when I look back up, I notice a group of unfamiliar people sitting around a table at the window. I take in the laptops and books surrounding them. College students, maybe?

  "Go on back to the kitchen," Mrs. Dorn says without looking at me. "I'll keep Alex up here with me for a bit."

  "Are you sure? He's getting tired, which means cranky." Pausing in front of the kitchen door, I give Mrs. Dorn the chance to send him with me.

  "He'll be fine. I'll feed him some soup. If he gets too tired, I'll let you know." This time, she looks away from Alex and settles her gaze on me.

  "Okay, just yell when he's ready for bed." Taking a couple steps behind the counter, I kiss the side of Alex's head before going into the kitchen.

  After hours in the bakery, I finally arrive, exhausted, to the apartment. Erik's voice surprises me.

  "What are you doing here?"

  Both Mercedes and Erik look up from the table, holding plates of pizza.

  "I brought over pizza." He smiles wide and motions to the pizza box on the kitchen counter.

  He stands from the table and walks toward me. "I know you said we need time apart, Liv, but you're one of my best friends," he whispers, "I can't just cut you out of my life."

  "Erik, I don't think this is a good idea. I mean, we just talked—"

  He puts his fingers over my mouth.

  "Shh, just be my friend." With a half-smile, he walks back to his seat.

  "I'm going to take a shower," I announce, still not comfortable with Erik being here.

  In the shower, I try to think of a way to explain to Erik, once again, the need for time apart. It's not just for him. When the water turns cold, I shut it off, climb out of the shower, and get dressed.

  Entering the open kitchen area, I lock my gaze on Alex.

  "Oh, baby, don't do that." I grab a towel from the counter and try to stop him from further rubbing pizza into his eye.

  He yawns large, his head lolling just a bit.

  "You eat," Mercedes orders, standing from the table. "I'll clean him up and get him into bed."

  "No," I counter. "You've done enough tonight, I'll—"

  "Don't argue with me." Mercedes nudges me toward a chair then turns and pulls Alex from his highchair. "I haven't seen you eat since you got back this afternoon. Knowing you, you haven't eaten all day." She eyes me before disappearing down the hall toward the bedrooms.

  With Mercedes out of earshot, I finally turn to face Erik.

  "We need to talk." I sit down on the dark stained chair.

  "We've talked enough," he grinds out, his jaw tight.

  "We still need time away from each other. It's too soon to come over like this and you know it. I still need—"

  "Olivia, just be my friend, okay?" Erik rubs his forehead, frustration wrinkling his face.

  Just as I prepare to argue, there's an unexpected knock at my door.

  "Who could that be?" Erik asks, standing.

  I beat him to the door and begin to open it.

  "Heck, it better be Publisher's Clearing House with a million dollar check right about now, or I’m kicking someone's butt for…what are you doing here?"

  My stomach plummets and swallowing is suddenl
y impossible, not to mention the inability to breathe.

  "Sorry, not Publisher's Clearing House." His smile is dark, yet seductive. "However, I could technically write you a million dollar check."

  Before me, standing devilishly handsome with his flawless skin, dark brown hair, piercing green eyes, and lips I knew were firm and sensual, is the sole source of my current high blood pressure.

  "What," I gasp, barely able to form the word. "What are you doing here? How do you know where I—?"

  "Come now, Olivia, did you think I would just ignore these?" He held up a thick manila envelope.

  The annulment papers.

  "Actually, I was hoping you wouldn't ignore them. I’m hoping you signed and initialed in the appropriate places." Crossing my arms over my chest, I stand firm. "So, you can just return those to my lawyer."

  "I guess you still don't realize our situation. Oh, and I'm sure your lawyer doesn't want to deal with me or my legal team." He stands, self-assured, waiting for my reaction.

  I open my mouth to tell the psycho to get off my property when Erik interrupts.

  "Who's this?" Rounding the door, Erik narrows his eyes on Damon.

  The two men lock on each other, Damon looking amused with a bit of menace gleaming in his eyes. His broad shoulders square as he straightens to his full height.

  "Who might this be?" Damon directs the question to me.

  "I'm Erik, her boyfriend. And you are?"

  I snap my head toward Erik before turning fully to face him. I'm about to tell him to stand down when Damon's arm snakes around my body, his hand shooting out toward Erik. I jump, surprised by the move.

  "I'm Damon Knyght, Olivia's husband," he replies, smugness entering his voice. I look over my shoulder at him. By the anger flaring in his eyes, it’s clear his words were meant to hurt.

  Groaning, I drop my head into my hands. Erik growls, bringing my head back up. Two large men fighting in my home is the last thing I need. Plus, Damon has at least four inches on Erik and a dark anger simmering underneath. I don't want Erik to get hurt.

  "Look, it's late." I turn, facing Damon now. "You should go." His eyes tear away from Erik to meet mine. "And you can contact my lawyer if you want to discuss the annulment."

  I try to shut the door, but Damon's arm holds it open.

  "We need to talk. There are things you need to understand," he says with determined emphasis.

  "It can wait—"

  "Momma!"

  I spin around at the sound of my son's scampering feet, panic tingling my belly. Alex rushes to me, wraps his chubby arms around my leg, and squeezes.

  "Liv, that boy is crazy in the tub. How the heck do you not end up drenched when you—" Mercedes stops at the end of the hall, her eyes wide and mouth hanging open. She looks from me to Erik, back to me, to Damon, and then back to Erik. "Erik, we should go."

  "No," I almost shout. "Damon was just leaving."

  "I'm not going anywhere until we talk." His voice is casual, stoic.

  "She said she doesn't want you here, asshole!" Erik shouts.

  Putting my hand on Erik's chest, I stop his progression toward Damon.

  "Calm down. Alex is right there."

  Erik's hand comes up and covers mine against his chest.

  "You can kick him out, Liv." Erik's eyes stay locked on Damon while he speaks to me.

  "I suggest you take your hand off my wife," Damon growls, menacingly.

  I look over my shoulder at Damon and the look on his face shocks me. I try to pull my hand away from Erik, but he presses it tighter against him.

  "Don't threaten him,” I say, keeping my voice firm without yelling. Alex doesn't need to be frightened.

  Damon reaches out, yanking my hand away from Erik.

  Mercedes gasps right along with me.

  Erik's body starts to shake with anger, so I pull my hand away from Damon's touch.

  "Erik, calm down. Remember Alex."

  "Come on, Erik, let's go." Mercedes grabs her coat from the back of a chair and wraps her arm around one of his. "Let's go, Erik," Mercedes growls low, yanking Erik toward the door.

  "Go on, Erik. It will be fine." Sighing, I rub the back of my neck with my now free hand.

  "I'm not going anywhere, and I'm sure as hell not leaving you alone with him." Erik suddenly grabs me, pulling me behind him protectively. Alex's body jerks with the movement and tears begin to fill his eyes. I quickly reach down, pick him up, and hold him close.

  Mercedes pulls harder on Erik, but he doesn't move.

  Damon takes this distraction as his chance to enter my apartment completely.

  "Olivia?" he says my name on a whisper, his eyes locking on Alex. His face pales and he begins breathing heavily. For a minute, I think I hear him whisper DJ.

  "Are you alright?" Stepping around Erik, I move toward Damon, afraid he's become ill.

  He reaches out toward Alex, but I pull him away before contact is made. Suddenly, he straightens to his full height and turns those green eyes back on me.

  "I'm fine, but we are going to discuss these," he announces, waving the annulment papers again.

  "We can discuss those papers at a more reasonable hour. Right now, I have a son to get to bed and you are leaving," I argue.

  "Fine," he half grins, "I'll be back tomorrow morning."

  "I have a business to run, so we'll need to make arrangements to talk."

  "I'll see you tomorrow morning, Olivia." Pushing by Erik and Mercedes, he exits the apartment.

  "That's him? Are you freaking kidding me, Liv?" Erik shouts. "He's a complete asshole!"

  Mercedes smacks him in the chest before turning to me. "Are you okay? Do you want me to stay?"

  Shaking my head, I hug Alex to me closely. "I'll be fine, but thank you."

  "Liv?" Erik steps toward me.

  "Go, Erik. Just go, please," I beg.

  "Night, Liv." He stomps away.

  "I'll see you tomorrow," Mercedes whispers, closing the door behind her.

  After locking the door and securing the deadbolt, I take Alex to my room. Tonight, we’ll sleep together.

  Damon

  "You, Damon Knyght, my big brother, are going on vacation?" Hugh didn't bother knocking before entering my office.

  "Yes." I don't look up from my laptop. Instead, I continue to update my calendar in preparation for my upcoming trip.

  "Who are you and what have you done with my brother?" Hugh sits across from me.

  Rolling my eyes and sighing, I turn in my chair to look at him.

  "Where are you going?" He doesn't wait for me to answer his first question.

  "I have some… personal business to attend to." Picking up a pen, I start going through proposals for Mrs. Shaw to redraft before I leave.

  "What the hell is that?"

  I look up from the papers and follow his line of sight. He's looking at my hand — my left hand.

  "A ring," I answer.

  "Damon?" Hugh pushes.

  I drop the pen and run my hands over my face as I relax back in my leather office chair.

  "What, Hugh?" I snap.

  "That's not your old ring, is it?"

  "No, of course not," I growl.

  "Then what…where—"

  "I got married over the weekend. You'll meet her, eventually."

  "I wasn't even aware there was a she to meet, or one you were considering marrying." A flash of hurt crosses his face.

  "Hugh, relax." Sitting forward, I place my elbows on my desk and fold my hands. "It wasn't planned. It was spontaneous."

  "You, spontaneous?" Hugh snorts.

  "I know it's not like me, but I have my reasons."

  "Which are?" he presses.

  "I can't let her get away." I grin. "And now she can't." I shrug.

  His brow furrows. "You speak as if she doesn't want to be married to you."

  "Perhaps," I sigh. "She just needs time to warm up to the idea."

  "Marriage isn't something you warm up to, Damon." Hugh
gives me worried look. "What did you do? Is this going to come back on the company? Have you stopped taking your meds? Do you realize—?"

  "First of all," my words escalate to just below a yell, "don't lecture me about this company. It's my company."

  Hurt slashes the worry off his face.

  "Second, I have reasons and, for now, they are my reasons. We have a common bond, something I'm not willing to lose. We belong together. And third, I didn't do anything. She is a consenting adult who made the choice to enter the chapel in Vegas and leave legally wed to me." Having enough, and not feeling the need to further explain myself, I return to the proposals I need to have finished by this afternoon.

  "I want to understand," he states, pleadingly. "I really do, Damon. Please, tell me what's going on?"

  Exasperated, I look up once more, ready to dismiss him, but the confusion, hurt, and worry on his face stops me.

  "I went to Vegas over the weekend. I knew she would be there and once I was actually with her, talking, laughing, feeling better than I've felt in a very long time — hell, I'm not sure I've ever felt that kind of good — I couldn't and can't let her go. Now, she belongs to me and I intend on keeping it that way."

  "Belongs to you?" Hugh shakes his head at me. "What's the matter with you? You don't own the woman because she said 'I do' in an all-night chapel on the Vegas strip. She can annul the marriage and you can't stop her."

  "She can try, but I can drag it out and make it a miserable process. Any attorney with even a small amount of intelligence will tell her the same thing." I leer at my brother. "Plus, we have a common bond which plays in my favor. I know what I'm doing."

  "Make it miserable for her?" Hugh's words are filled with disgust, matching his expression. "I can't believe you would be so callous. I thought it was just the loss of Becky before, but—"

  "Damn it, Hugh, don't make this about her! It's not about her." Clenching my fists and jaw, I fight the urge to pounce on my little brother.

  "You need to talk to someone, Damon. You should call the doctor. You can't just take someone else's life as a possession. You don't own this woman. She doesn't belong to you!" he shouts as he stands, looking down at me.

  "Doesn't Scarlett belong to you?" I counter, raising a brow.

  "Only because she gives herself to me, Damon. I didn't club her over the head and drag her by the hair back to my cave. Christ, what are you thinking?"