by Sosie Frost
A knock rattled the cabin. I dropped the towel.
“Shit.” My words echoed inside the dryer. “Fuck me.”
What was the date? I checked my watch.
“Shit, shit, shit.”
How the fuck did I forget?
I rushed to the living room just as Cassi opened the door.
The county representative wore a scowl. It looked better than the pantsuit. Chubby, irritated, and one coffee short of a good morning, the woman had already marked an unsatisfactory box on her clipboard. She eyed Cassi’s shirt and boxers with a huff.
“I’m Theresa Raymond, CPS. And you’ve obviously forgotten our appointment.”
Cassi’s eyes widened. She glanced from the woman to me, hackles immediately rising. “God damn. I know Rem’s new with babysitting, but that’s why he hired me.”
Shit.
The one fucking time my best laid plans actually got me laid was the one morning I shouldn’t have welcomed Cassi in my bed.
“Mr. Marshall…” Theresa clicked her pen and scribbled more notes. “I understand our meetings are infrequent, but I’d hoped for something of this magnitude you’d understand the responsibilities expected of you…”
She stared at my bare chest. Not quite drooling. More…judgmental.
Yeah, the snake and sleeves inked on my fleshed didn’t inspire confidence in everyone.
“Wait.” I grabbed a shirt from the back of the couch, dodged the upended table, and approached the door. “Hi. Yeah. I remember. We were just—”
“My goodness.” Theresa stared at the living room, the kitchen, and the broken glass. “What in Heaven’s name are these children being subjected to?”
“Whoa. Wait.” Cassi turned momma bear in an instant, and I prayed she wouldn’t maul the one woman I desperately needed to keep the kids safe. “What’s going on? Who are you?”
Theresa didn’t offer her hand. She stepped through the entryway, shooing Cassi from her path, and surveyed the rest of the house.
“The home matches the owner…” She frowned. “Unkempt.”
“Hey, I’m kempt.” Sure, the shirt was covered in wet playdough or something damp and purplish, but I looked good in all manner of toddler gunk, goo, and garbage. “We’re just running behind this morning.”
Theresa stared at me through meticulously hair-sprayed bangs that framed her expression into a limited range of irritated, frustrated, or pissy.
And shock.
She now looked shocked.
She clutched the clipboard to her chest. “Mr. Marshall, I expected drug use from your sister, but not from you! Have you no shame, taking in these children only to subject them to the same environment?”
“What?” I rubbed my face. The white powder dusted away. Flour? “No, no! That’s not—”
“Absolutely unacceptable!”
“You don’t understand!”
“I’ll have to report this immediately. I’ll send a car for the children—”
Cassi panicked and blocked her path. “Ms…whoever you are. Wait. That’s not…it’s flour. We’re making pancakes. It’s flour. Rem, what’s going on?”
Theresa’s mouth edged into a hard line. “I see.”
This was getting out of hand. Mellie wailed from the couch, and Tabby now joined the chorus. Sobbing children didn’t promote the image of a safe and nurturing environment. Neither did shards of glass and overturned end tables.
At least Theresa hadn’t found the spider living in the hall closet—pissed that I’d exiled his buddy.
I guided her out of the house. “Let’s talk. Away from the kids.”
Theresa snorted. “That will be best.”
I didn’t dare glance at Cassi.
Christ, how was I going to explain this to her?
One thing at a time. First priority—keep the kids.
I led Theresa to the porch, closing the front door behind me. The morning was crisp, clear, and a perfect opportunity for fate to fuck me over once more. Theresa stepped over Cassi’s robe, discarded by the porch swing. Her eyes read most of everything and her judgment put together the rest. This didn’t amuse her.
She folded her hands and waited for me to dig a deeper grave. Joke was on her. Now that Cassi knew I’d lied to her? I was already six feet under.
I sucked in a breath. “Look, Ms. Raymond.”
“Mr. Marshall, I placed these children under your guardianship as I believed it was better for the girls to live with a direct relative. Have I made the wrong decision?”
“No. Not at all.”
“I find that hard to believe, given the evidence of this morning. A forgotten meeting. A thoroughly unkempt house. A dangerous situation in your kitchen. Crying children. And…” Her gaze darted down. “A scantily clad woman in the house.”
“Scantily clad?” Christ, I wished. “She’s in her pajamas.”
“Yes. Another…concern. I was not told you would host unrelated women in your home. Frankly, I fear this placement may not be the most suitable arrangement for Melanie and Tabitha.”
Goddamn it. “Look, you said it was going to be temporary, so I took them in. It’s been three months now, and I had to do something. We’re adjusting. We’re getting along. The kids are happy and healthy. I even hired a damned nanny to help take care of them.”
“Ah, so…she’s the…nanny. Of course.”
I didn’t like the tone. “What’s that mean?”
“Well, she’s bla—” Theresa stopped herself before she gave me reason to toss her off the property. “She’s suited for a service role.”
I stepped too close, my voice low. “Lady, it doesn’t matter if she’s the nanny or my wife. Don’t you ever fucking presume anything about her based on her…suitability.”
Theresa frowned, but at least she didn’t check off some racist ass box on her chart. She held the clipboard to her chest and nodded.
“Your sister has completed her rehab,” she said. “She will be returning home soon.”
“Good.”
“Until that time, you are responsible for the wellbeing and safety of those children.”
“Have been for three months.”
“And if you’re lucky, it won’t be for much longer…which, in my professional opinion is a good thing.”
“Lady—”
“We must think of what’s in the best interest of the children.” Her interruption rivaled her stare. Sharp. Uncompromising. Absolutely honest and undoubtedly correct. “I have your records, Remington. I’ve conducted interviews from long-term residents of this town, and I’ve noted your behavior in our prior meetings. Believe me, I placed those girls with you because of our internal policies, not my own preference. We both know you are not a man who should be responsible for those little girls. You aren’t just a bad influence, you’re entirely toxic.”
She wasn’t wrong.
“But I did it. I did what was right. I took them in.”
“Then let us hope you did not traumatize them any further.” Theresa wrote a new date and time on the back of her business card. “Clean your house. Calm the children. And be responsible enough to remember our future meetings. I’ll return in a week. I’ll expect more of you, Mr. Marshall, though I’m not sure I could be any more disappointed than what I’ve seen.”
“Yeah. Feeling’s mutual.”
Theresa stormed off my porch. Good riddance. I grabbed Cassi’s robe and headed inside, slamming the door behind me.
The kids flinched again. Little lips quivered, and their eyes widened with tears.
“Uncle Rem is mad at me…” Mellie sniffled.
Christ. Theresa was right. I did traumatize the girls.
“No, I’m not mad at you.” I mussed her hair. “Everything is okay. I just had to talk to our…friend outside.”
That placated the kids.
Cassi wasn’t as easy. She stared at me, even her curls shaking in a quiet rage.
“Rem, what was that?”
Glass still litte
red the kitchen floor. I knelt and swept it away. “Very unfortunate timing.”
“Rem.”
“It’s not a big deal.”
“Don’t.” Cassi blocked my path. “Don’t do that.”
I tossed a chunk of glass into the garbage. “Do what?”
“Don’t you dare lie to me.”
“It’s nothing.”
She offered me a roll of paper towels. I wished it were an olive branch.
“You’re doing it again,” she said.
“I told you—”
“You shut down, Rem. Every time. When something bad happens, when life gets a little complicated—you shut down. You’d rather run and hide and lie than confront what’s really wrong.” Cassi took my hand. “Don’t do it this time.”
And do what instead?
Confront this?
This wasn’t my battle to fight. I wasn’t the one on the front lines. Hell, I didn’t even know what was happening until I got the call in the middle of the night from a phone number in a town I swore I’d never see again.
Within a day, I’d traveled across the country, landed at my family’s old house, and had two little girls tossed in my arms. They didn’t even pack their shit. Just jammed their clothes and toys in garbage bags and pretended like that night wouldn’t scar them forever.
Mellie called from the kitchen, still sniffling. “I’m hungry.”
I tossed Cassi a box of Cheerios, and she delivered a bowl to Mellie, setting her in front of the TV. Both girls giggled with excitement, thrilled to be allowed to watch a movie so early in the morning.
“I gotta clean the kitchen, but we’ll have pancakes, I promise.” Cassi kissed the top of Mellie’s head. “Just watch Nemo for a bit, okay?”
“Kay.”
Mellie devoured her cereal, even tossing the occasional piece to her sister—or at her sister—as she giggled from her bouncer. The last of the debris tumbled into the garbage.
Now what?
And why didn’t I save a piece of glass for my wrists?
I leaned against the counter and rubbed my face.
“Should I get the whiskey or make a pot of coffee?” Cassi asked.
“Why not both?”
Neither was strong enough for this conversation. It wasn’t like the kids would understand, but I lowered my voice anyway. Looked away.
Shame was a lot easier to hide when I was three thousand miles away.
“Em’s not sick.” A lie was so much better than this truth. “She’s got problems.”
“CPS took the kids?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
Why else? “Drugs. Em’s…gotten worse the past few months. Since Tabby was born. Had some complications. I guess the oxy helped too much. Easier than heroin…for a while at least. CPS called and said they needed someone to take the kids. Said they wanted to put them with a family member first. If I couldn’t take em…” I exhaled. “They would’ve gone to foster care.”
“That’s terrible.”
And nothing I’d ever put my nieces through. “I took a leave of absence, flew home, and grabbed the girls. You know the rest.”
“You never told anyone?”
“Why would I?” I laughed. “Everyone in Butterpond knows the Marshalls are fuckups. Last thing I need is to give anyone confirmation.”
“You didn’t tell me.”
I frowned. “No. I didn’t.”
“You lied to me.”
“It wasn’t my lie.” Like it made a difference. “What was I supposed to do? Tell you my sister’s such a hardcore junkie that she put the girls in danger?”
“You don’t think I’d understand?”
No. She wouldn’t have understood.
“Cas, I haven’t seen you for five years. You’re the only person in this whole damn town that matters to me. You know how rotten my family was—that’s why I stayed with yours for so long. Last thing I wanted was to come back, see you, and make you think nothing had changed.”
Because it hadn’t.
I couldn’t handle some spilled water without losing my temper. Couldn’t impress a lady from CPS. Couldn’t take the kids into town without my name overshadowing them.
Good thing they were so young yet. Once Mellie got older, once she understood what the whispers and the looks and the gossip meant, she’d follow the same path as me. Withdrawn. Bitter. Getting into trouble.
At least I had the option to run. They were innocent and stuck in this hell.
“Just…” I hated that I had to ask it. “Keep this to yourself, Sassy. Please.”
Her hand grazed my cheek. I brushed her away.
“No one is judging you, Rem,” she whispered.
“Everyone judges, Cas. And if they look close enough, they’re going to see a bastard who doesn’t deserve you.”
She planted her feet and gave me a smile.
“Well, guess what, Remington Marshall. I know who you are. I know your family, I know your past, and I know everything you’ve done. And I’m not going anywhere.”
Poor thing.
She sounded so sure of it too.
Like she believed it. Like she honestly thought the past could be forgotten and a future created right there in the middle of the kitchen over some pancakes and cartoons for the girls.
She didn’t know the full truth about that past. About everything I had done.
Some secrets were worth the isolation.
I’d lied five years ago and lost her once.
The truth would lose her forever.
14
Cassi
Nothing said family celebration like the threat of bloodshed.
Today’s menu: roast beef with a side of mashed potatoes, vegetable casserole, and a knuckle sandwich.
Rem parked the truck outside the farmhouse and grunted. “This is a shitty idea.”
Mellie agreed with a giggle. “Titty!”
“That’s…not what he said but it’s still a bad word.” I eyed them both. “Neither of you should say it.”
Tabby coo’ed with a wicked grin. “Sitty!”
Rem sighed. “Fantastic.”
“Don’t worry.” I squeezed his arm. “This is just what we need.”
Rem didn’t believe me. I didn’t either, not really. A dinner with my family wasn’t a pleasant occasion on the best of times—whatever those were anymore. But my brothers were still his best friends, despite whatever circumstances had pulled them apart. Maybe reconciliation was all they needed? Some food, wine, and laughter to rid Rem of whatever shame, torment, and secrets prevented him from looking towards the future.
A future with me.
One we should’ve started long ago.
“Really, Cas…” He kept his hand on the gearshift, like he’d actually toss the truck in reverse and speed back to his mountain. “This dinner is a private…family…thing.”
“It’s a dinner to honor my mom’s birthday,” I said. “And you loved my mom just as much as I did.”
“It’s not my place.”
“You were in our lives for twenty years. It’s only right you come too.”
His voice lowered. “At least you believe that.”
I took his hand. “I do. I’m not going to let you rot away all alone on that mountain anymore. What’s done is done. The past is behind us. It’s time you be a part of the world again. See what you’ve been missing.”
“I can guarantee they’re not missing me.”
“Doesn’t matter. All this self-exile and isolation isn’t good.”
“Neither is getting pummeled by your brothers.” He glanced at me. “Julian made his feelings on the matter pretty clear.”
“Well, Jules will have to deal. I want you here. And so does Tidus. And so would Mom. We’ve gotta work through this bad blood sometime.”
“I’d rather it not spill.”
“I promise. I won’t let my brothers get all brothery.”
Rem smirked. “Oh. I see what this is. You want
me here as a buffer between you and them.”
Busted. “You’re one hell of a distraction.”
“You owe me.”
I winked. “A hundred kisses, a dozen touches, and one very, very satisfying night.”
“Hope I survive.”
“The dinner or me?”
Rem snorted. “One and then the other.”
“Come on.” I hopped out of the truck and unfastened, unbuckled, and untangled the kids from their car seats. Rem unsuccessfully dodged Tabby’s thrown sippy cup. The first and, hopefully, only blow of the night. “At least the kids will have fun.”
Even that was optimistic.
I led Rem into the house…
And panicked.
Since I’d left to stay at the cabin, the house had transformed from uneasy borders to all-out trench warfare. Disputed territories in the den and dining room seemed a particular source of contention—marred with new cracks in the walls and broken furniture from what I presumed to be the fist-fights of thirty-year-old men. Even the fridge wasn’t immune. A wall of aluminum foil divided the shelves, separating out four individual gallons of milk, four cartons of eggs, four pizza boxes, and a variety of multicolored Tupperware containers with scribbled names staining the lids in permanent marker.
As far as I could tell, no one was speaking to each other, but the lights and water were still on. Bills were paid, even if my brothers were slowly tearing the house apart.
Tabby needed a quick diaper change, but one glance in the downstairs bathroom flashed me with memories of mucking out horse stalls. I was better off changing the baby in the middle of the floor than dealing with the mountain of dirty laundry Quint collected next to the tub.
I’d left the house to take care of the children. Good thing CPS hadn’t gotten involved when I’d abandoned the biggest babies of all—my brothers.
I helped myself to the living room floor, casting Tabby’s baby blanket over the bits of Cheeto dust and flecks of mud. No truce and no vacuuming. I should have imposed sanctions on my warring brothers. Unilateral peace talks, mandatory meal time, and Pledge for the wood and furniture.
“We’re here.” I called into the house. “Please tell me the smoke isn’t coming from the roast.”