by Harley Stone
Implausible as the idea was, I couldn’t help my brain from fixating on it. After all, I’d never imagined my husband would become some psycho woman beater who was no doubt plotting my murder, but here we were.
“Define effed up,” I said. My voice sounded funny. Hollow. My pulse raced and my hands started to tremble.
I didn’t think Carisa noticed, because instead of answering my question she climbed out of her car and gestured for me to follow. I didn’t. I couldn’t. Half expecting Matt to come barging out of the house, I watched the door and willed myself to move. To get the hell out of there.
It felt like I was underwater again, kicking and splashing, about to drown.
My car door opened and Carisa blocked it, concern etched in the lines of her face. “Breathe, Tina.”
I filled my lungs with air, shuddering.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
I needed to call Emily. I needed to let her know what was going on.
Surely, she’d help me.
Matt couldn’t have possibly gotten to her.
Right?
My phone was peeking out of my purse. I grabbed it, but Carisa waved a hand in front of my face.
“Tina. Snap out of it. What’s going on?” She sounded worried. Of course, she’d be worried; she was nice. It wasn’t her fault Matt had tricked her. She probably thought she was helping me.
“I know you didn’t mean to,” I said. “We can still get out of here before he sees me.”
“I…” Confusion clouded her expression as she looked from me to the house. “Before who sees you?”
“Him.” I didn’t even want to say his name out loud. I felt like I was Frodo and had just slid the one ring of power onto my finger. Matt’s ever-seeing eye was turned my direction, and the instant his name left my lips, I’d summon him.
Carisa was staring at me like I was crazy.
I lowered my voice and whispered, “Matt.”
“Matt? Who the hell is Matt?” Her eyes narrowed to slits as the answer seem to come to her. “You mean your… your ex?”
I nodded.
“Tina, why would your ex be at my aunt’s house?”
“Your aunt’s house?” She sounded legitimately confused. I could relate. “You said you effed up.”
“You think I—” Her eyes widened in shock. “No. Fucked up like I accidentally told my cousin, Nora, about you. Not fucked up like I accidentally took you to see your ex!”
“We’re at your aunt’s house?” I asked again. It felt like I was back in college algebra, being asked to solve for X when the rest of the data was all mixed up.
She glanced at the house. “Yes. Aunt Linore’s. She’s Darius’s mom.”
“And Matt’s not here?”
“No!” She threw her head back, frustrated. “Look, I told Nora. She told her mom, who told my mom, who told Aunt Linore. They held an impromptu family meeting and decided I had to bring you here to meet everyone. The only people in that house are the nosy, invasive women in my crazy-ass family. I fucked up, because now they’re going to be all up in your business, like they are in mine, and I don’t want that for you.”
Dropping my phone back into my purse, I let out a breath and collapsed against the back of my seat. Now that the threat had been extinguished, I was exhausted. I hated the way my entire body still trembled, but there was no help for that. I’d have to breathe through it until my heart stopped trying to bust out of my chest.
Carisa stared at me like she needed a better explanation for my insane behavior. “The marriage didn’t end well,” I said, somehow managing to minimize the entirety of my toxic relationship into five little inadequate words.
“I can tell.” She scoffed. “What I don’t understand is why you think I would sell you out to him. Or to anyone, for that matter.”
“I don’t. I… It’s complicated. Matt is very…” I’d offended her, and I felt bad about that, but I didn’t know strong enough words to describe him. To make sense of our bizarre situation. “He always knows what to say. People believe him. I had evidence of his lies, and I believed him. He made me question things I saw with my own eyes. He made me feel like I was going crazy. Like I didn’t deserve… anything.”
Seconds ticked by as I stared at my feet, embarrassed and disgusted with myself. Just talking about him made me feel weak and vulnerable.
Finally, Carisa grabbed me by the shoulders and forced me to meet her gaze. “Darius said your ex was a piece of shit. I get it. The asshole obviously screwed you over good. But you need to understand something. My cousin—who I would walk through fire for—is all about you and your son.”
I started to object, but she held up a hand, silencing me. “Don’t even try to deny it. I know Darius better than anyone, and I’ve never seen him like this before. He likes you, and the more I get to know you, the more I understand why. You’re good for each other. You have a real shot at happiness. That is a rare thing, and I would never take it away from you. Or him.”
My brain tried to process that information, feeding me memories of the way Kaos looked at me. Of the little touches and near misses. Was she right? Was he into me?
It didn’t matter. Attraction meant nothing, and there were more pressing matters to deal with. Shelving the possibilities to worry about later, I focused on the problem at hand. “I’m sorry for even assuming… I freaked out, and—” There were so many things I wanted to say, but I lacked the words. A flicker of curtains drew my attention. Apparently, we had an audience. Kaos’s family was in there, watching and waiting as I struggled through the effects of my anxiety.
“Don’t even worry about it,” she said, patting my shoulder. “I know a panic attack when I see one. By the way, you can rest assured that if I ever do meet Matt, I’ll cut off his pecker and shove it up his ass for you.”
Strangely enough, I didn’t doubt her for a minute. Her brassy declaration wiped away the last of my lingering trepidation. I rallied my courage and smiled. “Thank you.”
“Oh, it will be my pleasure, trust me. Now, you ready to meet the fam?”
No, I wasn’t, not even remotely, but I followed her into the house anyway.
It was a little like stepping into a family-owned restaurant. The atmosphere was warm and inviting, and the air smelled of freshly cooked food, making my stomach rumble. A group of beautiful, olive-skinned women were clustered in the entryway. They opened ranks and enveloped us in a hairspray and perfume haze of introductions.
As soon as I’d met everyone and gave vague, incomplete answers for uncomfortable questions like how long I’d known Darius, and how I’d met him, Carisa passed me a glass of wine. It was before noon, but I had a feeling I’d need it.
Next thing I knew, we were sitting around a massive kitchen table. Soup was served, followed by salad, and then an olive tapenade served with bread and some sort of Greek bruschetta. A foreign fried cheese came next, and then spinach and feta filo. By the time roasted vegetables were added to the table, I was glad I’d worn stretchy pants.
“How many courses will there be?” I asked Carisa, who was seated beside me.
“At least a few more.” She smiled. “Might want to take smaller portions and slow down.”
Great. “Now you tell me.”
She gave me a sheepish smile. “We like to eat.”
Next came something called moussaka. It smelled delicious, and I didn’t want to offend anyone, but I didn’t think I could take another bite.
“This is Aunt Linore’s special recipe,” Carisa said, adding it to my plate. “It’s like an eggplant and beef lasagna.”
Linore smiled at me from across the table.
Lowering her voice to a whisper, Carisa added, “You have to at least try it.”
Of course, I did. “If I burst, please tell Dylan I love him.” I whispered.
“That’s a bit dramatic, but okay. Try not to make a mess, though. Exploding in my aunt’s home is no way to make brownie points.”
“I’ll
be dead.” I pointed out. “I don’t think I’ll care about making points.”
But alive, I did care. Far more than I cared to admit. The ladies around me talked and laughed as they ate, and it was clear to see that they genuinely loved each other. The atmosphere was so comfortable, and everyone seemed relaxed and happy. Despite her previous digs, even Carisa was smiling and chatting it up with her family. My chest ached at the sight. I’d always wanted a big family. Matt was an only child, and his parents lived in the Midwest. They were super reserved and stiff, the kind of people who wouldn’t be caught dead gorging themselves at a family get-together like this.
I, on the other hand, loved it.
I devoured the moussaka. Then came fried potatoes, followed by dessert. By the time Carisa dropped me off at Kaos’s, my food belly was showing, I was tipsy, my cheeks ached from smiling so much, and I felt warm all over. I found Kaos and Dylan sitting on the sofa in the game room, watching a group of kids play hockey on the television.
“Hey guys,” I said, joining them.
“Hi, Mom.” Dylan gave me a distracted wave while keeping his attention on the television.
“Hey,” Kaos said, looking me up and down. Twice. “You’re home later than I expected. How was the spa?”
There was something carnal and forbidden in his gaze, and I wondered if he was aware of the full body goosebumps his twice-over had given me. He had a beer in hand and was back to his low-hanging sweatpants. He’d paired them with a T-shirt that stretched across his pecks in the most delicious way. It took me a moment to realize he’d asked a question, but I finally shook myself and told him where we’d really spent the day.
He groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. “Man. You should have called. I would have put together a rescue party to get you out of there.”
“You sound like Carisa. I don’t know what’s wrong with the two of you, but your family is amazing. No rescue was required.”
“Carisa and I lead private lives, and the family doesn’t understand things like boundaries and plans that don’t include them.”
I grinned, seeing where that could be a problem. “Well, I think they’re amazing. And I’ll probably never need to eat again, so there’s that. Your mom sent you leftovers, by the way.” I held up the grocery bag full of Tupperware containers she’d sent. “Want me to put these in the fridge?”
“No way!” Kaos jumped out of his seat and headed for the kitchen before I could so much as blink. Moments later, he returned with plates and silverware. Taking the bag from me, he unloaded the goodies. “You hungry, Dylan?” He asked.
Dylan shook his head. He had his elbows on his knees, head in hands, and was glued to the screen. Sitting beside him, I wanted to drill him about how the hockey lessons went, but I’d never seen him so invested in a show. I didn’t want to disturb him.
“What are you watching?” I asked Kaos, keeping my voice low as I pointed at the screen.
“The Mighty Ducks.”
“The what?” I asked, leaning closer so I was practically behind Dylan.
Kaos looked at me like I’d grown a second head. “You’ve never seen The Mighty Ducks before?” When I shook my head, his face scrunched up in disgust and he finished piling food onto his plate. “I can’t believe this. The Mighty Ducks is a child’s rite of passage. You can’t actually grow up until you watch it. Kinda like The Sandlot, The Karate Kid, and The Goonies. Without these experiences, you run the risk of becoming something awful… like a serial killer or a telemarketer.”
His goofy explanation paired with a stone-cold serious expression made my eyebrows rise. “Sounds like I have some catching up to do. Is there a list of these rites of passage somewhere?”
“I’ll write one up for ya.” He took a bite and washed it down with a swallow of beer. I tried really hard not to notice how kissable his lips were or how masculine his Adam’s Apple looked bobbing up and down. I’d never found the Adam’s Apple particularly attractive before, but everything about Kaos was so hot it short-circuited my brain and made me intensely aware of my body. My mind flickered back to Carisa’s declaration that Kaos was into me.
Could it really be true?
I hated the hope that flooded my chest. By now, I should have learned better. I wished there was a button I could push to turn off my emotions and just coast through life for a while without any pain or expectations.
“Thank you,” I said lamely.
He gave me a crooked smile. Heat flooded my cheeks as well as my core. I sat back, settling a throw pillow against my stomach like it was a shield that could somehow deflect his charm. Still, it was nice, being there with him and Dylan. Comfortable. We’d been spending evenings together all week, and no matter how hard I tried not to, I looked forward to it.
When Kaos finished eating, he grabbed himself another beer and poured me a glass of wine. It kept my warm and fuzzy buzz going as we watched the Ducks battle it out on the screen against the Hawks. The movie was kind of cheesy, but good.
Dylan loved it. As soon as the credits started rolling on the movie, he jumped up like the couch was on fire and launched into the details of his hockey adventure. While he talked, I shooed him upstairs and toward the bathroom. The dark circles around his eyes told me a hard crash was coming, and I didn’t have long to get him bathed and in bed. I started his bath while he undressed. He climbed into the water, and I took in the collection of marks covering his body.
“What happened?” I asked.
“It’s only a couple of bruises,” he said. “You should have seen me. I only fell a couple of times. Kaos says I’m a natural.”
Not what I wanted to hear. If skating without sticks and opponents had given him that many bruises, I didn’t even want to see what he’d look like after an actual hockey practice. Leaning against the door, I tried to keep my expression neutral despite my concern. My life would be much easier if Dylan had hated the entire experience, but that was clearly not the case. He was like an excited little jumping bean, barely able to sit still as he carried on about his plans to become the biggest star the NHL had ever seen.
I just wanted to wrap him in Styrofoam and bubble wrap.
Hockey seemed so dangerous.
And expensive.
I’d done a little research, and I didn’t know what the going rate for souls was these days, but I’d need to sell mine to come up with a down payment for the gear alone. Not to mention ice time and coaching. According to the internet, hockey was the second most expensive sport a kid could play. Not reassuring when my bank account was barely in the black. Kaos had volunteered to coach Dylan for free—which would eliminate some of the cost—but the man was already letting us stay in his house and eat his food. This felt a lot like taking advantage of his kindness and generosity.
I needed to figure out a way to stand on my own two feet.
Worry churned my stomach. The car insurance payment was coming due, and I had no idea how to pay it. Especially since I no longer had a job. I’d called Mr. Denali earlier in the week and quit. Probably not the smartest decision I’d ever made, but Matt’s latest attack had brought on a string of nightmares I couldn’t shake. I wanted to work—needed to work—but I also needed to live. A paycheck wouldn’t do much for me if Matt caught me in the parking garage again and finished what he’d started.
Health insurance was also a problem. Hockey most likely meant broken bones, concussions, and stitches. We currently had coverage through Matt’s work, but he could remove us in a blink, and I wouldn’t even know. At least, not until I showed up in the emergency room with Dylan’s bone poking through his leg only to find out our coverage was denied.
Dylan was staring at me expectantly. Right. While I’d been on the verge of a nervous breakdown, he’d been carrying on about all the fun he’d had.
“I’m glad you enjoyed skating,” I lied. I’d seen a broken bone poking through the skin once. That wasn’t something you forgot. I would freak out if something like that ever happened to my child.
Dylan settled down, his previous joy leaking out of his expression. “You don’t seem glad.”
It had been far too long since I’d seen him so excited, and I felt like the worst mom ever for letting my reality get in the way of his happiness. Silently vowing to do better, I forced a smile. “Sorry, bud. I’m just tired. It’s been a long day. Come on. Let’s get you out of there.” I held up a towel for him to step into.
“I like living with Kaos,” Dylan announced. “I think we should stay here forever.”
Shocked, I stared at him. He hadn’t asked about his dad all week, but I never would have imagined he’d want to stay with Kaos.
“He’s nice, Mom. His house is safe.” Dylan met my gaze, his big green eyes solemn and honest. “You don’t even fall down the stairs here.”
My chest squeezed, sucking all the oxygen out of my lungs. The first time Matt had beaten me, he’d fed that lie to our son. I’d never corrected him… never told Dylan that it wasn’t the stairs.
But I always wondered if he knew the truth.
Dylan wasn’t stupid, after all, and after Matt had tried to kidnap him from the park…
Dylan yawned and headed into his bedroom. Still in a daze, I followed. He dressed in pajamas and handed me his wet towel. On autopilot, I took it to the bathroom and hung it up before returning to tuck my son in. I kissed his forehead and headed for the door.
Someone knocked.
Dylan cried out, “Come in!” as I braced myself.
“Hey, buddy, you wanted me to come in and tell you goodnight?” he said, still holding onto the door.
“Yeah.” Dylan nodded, gesturing for Kaos to come closer. As Kaos approached, my son said, “I’ve been thinking about it, and I want a hockey name, too.”
“You do, huh?” Kaos asked with a barely suppressed smile.
He met my gaze and my knees felt weak.
“You don’t even fall down the stairs here,” Dylan’s voice said in the back of my mind. It played on a loop, reminding me that my son was observant. He saw way more than he should, and had to be picking up on the emotions between me and Kaos.