by Anna Martin
“Hi,” he said, offering his hand. “I’m Zane.”
“Nice to meet you. Leo’s told me about you.”
My hand was already in my pocket for my phone, and I called Oliver’s cell with trembling fingers. The line beeped steadily, telling me the number had been disconnected.
“Shit,” I muttered, then called Meg, the only person I could think of who might still be in contact with Oliver. I hadn’t tried to call him for a long time; she’d probably spoken to him more recently.
“Hello?”
“Meg, it’s Ellis,” I said as Mom ushered us into the house. “Oliver hasn’t dropped Harrison back yet, and it’s getting late. Do you have his number? I want to call him.”
“Shit,” she muttered, and I heard her clanking about for a moment. Then she rattled off his number.
“Thanks,” I said.
“Ellis,” she said before I could hang up. “Let me know when he’s back, all right?”
“Of course.”
I went to dial Oliver’s number, but Zane stopped me with a hand on my arm and gave me his phone.
“He won’t recognize this number,” he said.
“Thanks.”
The phone rang a few times; then a strange voice answered. “Hello?”
“Can I speak to Oliver Price, please?”
“Who’s asking?”
“This is his ex-fucking-husband.”
“Oh. Oliver doesn’t want to speak to you.”
“I don’t want to speak to him either,” I snapped. “I just want him to bring my son back when we agreed he would, for once.”
There was a small scuffle, and I could hear Oliver’s voice in the background. For the first time since we split up, I regretted not knowing where he was living.
“Hello?”
“Oliver. It’s El.”
“Yeah, Harrison’s going to stay here with us.”
“No, he’s fucking not,” I said, trying to keep the ire out of my voice. And failing.
“You’re all shacked up with that terrorist kid,” Oliver said. “Josh and I can give him a safe home. Who knows what sort of danger he’s in with you.”
I forced myself to take a few deep breaths to calm down before responding.
“Oliver,” I said. “There is a court order, which has been signed by a judge of New York fucking City, which says I am Harrison’s legal guardian. You have visitation rights, which you’ve been shirking for the past few months. You do not have custody. If you don’t bring him back, right fucking now, I will call the cops and get you arrested.”
He hung up on me.
I was about to throw the phone at the wall in a fit of rage when Zane grabbed my wrist and tore it from my hand.
“What? What did he say?”
“He’s not bringing Harrison back. Apparently he’s going to keep him.”
“No, he’s fucking not,” Zane said hotly.
Suddenly, without warning, white-hot panic gripped my chest, almost crippling me with its power. Zane’s arms were immediately around me, holding me up as I threatened to break down.
“No,” he said. “No. You’re not going to do this, El. Who knows where he lives? We’ll go pick Harrison up.”
“No one,” I said. “No one has seen him since the divorce.”
“Someone must know,” he said, pushing me toward the living room and a couch. “I’ll call Meg back. Nae and Levon are still in Italy. Try Lupe or Az.”
I nodded and reached for my phone. For some reason, even though I’d thought I’d pressed the button to dial Lupe, my phone connected to Leo.
“El?”
“Leo. Oliver’s got Harrison, and he won’t bring him back.”
“Fuck,” Leo muttered. “Where are you? At Mom’s?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“You don’t have to—”
“Like fuck. I’ll get a cab. See you in a minute.”
He rung off, and I redialed Lupe.
Then Ben.
Then Crash.
None of the guys had seen Oliver in ages, and none of the girls wanted to have anything to do with him. While Zane and I went steadily through our list of contacts, my mom hovered and looked worried and made coffee that neither Zane nor I drank, and repeated, over and over, that I should call the police.
That was the last thing I wanted. They might say Oliver had a point or that I couldn’t fight him to get Harrison back. I’d seen the stories on the news, where one parent takes the child and the other spends years and thousands of dollars trying to get back a baby that doesn’t even recognize them. That was not going to happen to me.
Finally Zane hit on something with Azriel, who had seen Oliver somewhere farther uptown from where I lived, Brooklyn Heights area, going into a brownstone. He wasn’t sure of the address but offered to take us there.
With some calling around I managed to get Leo to pick up Az from his place on his way to Mom’s. I knew the cab fare was likely to be insane, but I shoved that thought out of my head as the car rounded the corner and I kissed my mom on the cheek and promised to call her as soon as I knew anything.
My mind kept flicking to the handgun I kept in a locked box in my nightstand. Oliver didn’t know I owned it. It was something I’d bought after he’d left, for protection. If there had been time, I would have gone back to get it. Not to use it. Never to use it. But just in case.
Ben got the cab to slow down when he turned onto the street where Oliver lived.
“There,” Leo said, pointing at a house.
“Shut up,” I snapped. “You don’t know where he is.”
“It’s the only house on the street with the curtains closed. At five thirty in the afternoon, El.”
Az nodded. “I’m not sure, but he could be right.”
“Will you wait?” I asked the cab driver.
He shrugged. I took that as his agreement.
“Look, El,” Az said as we all got out of the car. “It might be easiest if I go up first. I still speak to Ollie sometimes. He might be more reasonable with me.”
I didn’t like it, but he had a point, so I nodded and hung back on the sidewalk. Zane took my hand and squeezed.
“If it’s not that house, we’ll go up the street until we find him,” he said softly. “Harrison’s coming home with us tonight one way or the other.”
Since my jaw was locked, grinding my back teeth together, I couldn’t answer him. Instead I kissed the top of his head.
Az knocked on the door, and a few moments later Oliver opened it. He didn’t have Harrison, which was the only thing that stopped me storming up there. From our spot on the sidewalk I couldn’t hear everything they were saying. Oliver looked down at where I was flanked by Leo and Zane and seemed shocked to see us.
Then his eyes narrowed, he folded his arms over his chest, and he pouted. I’d been married to the man long enough to know what that meant.
“Ellis,” Zane said, grabbing for my wrist as I stormed up the steps.
“Look, you son of a bitch,” I started, jabbing at Oliver’s chest, but a thin wail from inside the house stopped me dead, and I slumped. “Give me back my son.”
“He’s not safe with you.”
“How do you—”
“Oliver,” Az interrupted. “If you have a problem with Ellis, or Zane, or whatever, you need to take it to your lawyer. You can’t just not give him back. You could get in serious trouble for that.”
It was clear that the cogs in Oliver’s head were turning as he tried to reassess his plan. Then he silently moved back into the house. I went to follow him, but Az grabbed my arm and shook his head.
“Don’t go in there, El,” he said. “Seriously.”
“But—Harrison—”
“Trust me.”
I didn’t. Trust him, that was. I trusted almost no one when it came to my baby. But he was proved right when Oliver came back out carrying Harrison.
“Hey, baba,” I said softly, i
gnoring Oliver completely and lifting Harrison away. He was definitely not happy, fussing and red-faced and about to start screaming again, I could tell. I didn’t notice Leo and Zane coming up behind us, so when Zane put his hand on my shoulder I jumped. Since he offered, I passed Harrison into his arms.
“I’m calling my lawyer,” Oliver said. His eyes narrowed when he saw Zane walking off, shushing Harrison and pointing out the pretty flowers to distract him from his tears.
“I’m calling mine.”
“I’m getting Harrison back, Ellis. That kid is dangerous.”
I was about to start yelling when he slammed the door in my face.
“Fuck,” I spat. Leo dragged me back down to the cab, and I sagged into my brother’s embrace.
“We’ve got him,” he said soothingly. “We’ve got him.”
“Yeah.” I turned to Az. “I will never be able to repay you for this.”
“Stab the sanctimonious bastard somewhere where it hurts,” he said. “I’m done with him now. This is ridiculous.”
I pulled him into a hard hug and pulled some cash out of my wallet for the cab.
“Take them back,” I said to the driver, who nodded and pocketed the money. “We’ll walk home,” I continued to Leo. “I can’t take him in a cab anyway.”
Leo nodded. “I’ll call Mom. And let people know we’ve got him.”
“Thanks. I’ll… I’ll call you.”
“Soon,” he said, his eyes giving me the warning.
I shook Az’s hand again and watched them slide into the cab. Zane was already halfway up the street, looking into all of the tiny front yards that people in this neighborhood could afford. Harrison had calmed down a lot, more and more with every step we took away from Oliver’s place.
“At least I know where he lives now,” I said as I caught up.
Zane’s eyes told a different story.
“That man cannot have him. He can’t,” he said.
I pulled him into my arms. Harrison reached up to pat me on the cheek until I pressed a kiss against his palm.
“He’s not going anywhere,” I murmured. “I promise.”
“I don’t know what his problem with me is. He seriously can’t be that racist. He was friends with Nae and Lupe and Az before, right?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I don’t know. I really don’t. If I knew what his motivations were, it would be a lot easier to figure out what to do next.”
Zane offered to hand Harrison back, and I shook my head, more than happy that he was calming down with Zane’s influence. I wasn’t sure what had happened in that house, and there was no way of knowing, which made it even worse.
The walk back to my apartment took nearly an hour, when it would have been less than forty minutes if I were on my own. By the time we got in, Harrison was starting to fuss, so I left Zane to fix us all some dinner while I changed him and got him ready for bed.
“Zane.”
“What? What’s happened?” He turned from where he was chopping salad vegetables at the counter, looking panicked.
I tried to keep my voice neutral as I gently bounced Harrison on my hip. “Rory was at Oliver’s.”
“Oh no,” he said, his face falling. “Oh, Ellis.”
“It’s stupid.”
“No, it’s not,” he said, and it was his turn to wrap us both up in his arms. “Not stupid at all.”
“I love that stupid damn dinosaur. I bet Oliver won’t give it back just to spite me.”
“Is he that petty?”
“He could be, if he wanted.”
Zane sighed heavily. “Come on. You all need to eat something.”
He’d made a huge dressed salad for the two of us and cut peppers and carrots and celery into long strips for Harrison, to go with fingers of toast and a boiled egg. We had something of a routine now, sitting down to eat, the three of us together, like a family. It sure beat me eating a sandwich at the counter while begging Harrison to just eat something, anything.
Mealtimes were a lot more chill since Zane came along and found things Harrison actually enjoyed. He’d made some type of organic unsweetened pudding the other night that my son had devoured. I thought it looked disgusting, but I didn’t need to eat it, so it didn’t matter.
This was what Oliver had no idea about. He didn’t know that Zane made great food or that they played together and read stories and did modern art finger-painting. Their first joint artwork was now framed and hung in the hallway. He had no idea, and he didn’t deserve one.
It was later than Harrison’s normal bedtime by the time dinner was done, cleared up, and we were ready to settle down. I didn’t want to disrupt his routine any more than necessary, so I made up his bottle, and Zane found out my old, battered copy of Harry Potter.
We found a good way to sit: Zane leaning back against the arm of the couch, his legs over my lap, Harrison curled in the crook of my elbow. It felt right to have them both like this. Zane read one chapter, as was his way, and by the time he was finished, Harrison had his head back and was snoring.
Zane set the book aside, and his lips crashed into mine, the desperation in his kiss at odds with the care he took not to jostle the sleeping baby. I responded in kind, my fingers curled around the back of his neck, kissing him until he broke away with a sob.
“Shh. It’s fine. I promise.”
“I was so fucking scared,” he murmured.
“I know. Me too.”
“I….”
“What?” I prompted.
“No, it’s stupid.”
I poked him in the side until he relented.
“I feel like I’m not supposed to feel so protective of him. Like… that’s your job, you know?”
“You’re wonderful,” I said softly. “Harrison is lucky to have you.”
“You should put him to bed.”
I carefully took Harrison and carried him through to his room, laid him down in the crib, and allowed myself a moment to watch him sleep. He was my whole world.
When I walked back out to the hall Zane had his shoes on and was hovering by the door.
“I should go.”
“Why?”
Zane shrugged. “Just by being here I put him in danger, and I never want to do that. If I go, then Oliver doesn’t have a case anymore, does he? I’m the problem. And I won’t be the reason he gets taken away from you, El. I won’t.”
His lip was stuck out defiantly, and I wanted to kiss it.
“I love you.”
“What?”
I reached for him, and he took half a step back. “I am so, so in love with you.”
“Oh, God.” He pressed his hand to the center of his chest, and I watched as all his protestations crumbled away.
“Come to bed with me.”
Chapter 11
This time he let me grab his wrist and tug him through to my room. Our room. He sat silently as I knelt in front of him to pull off his Chucks and toss them in a corner. I pulled my T-shirt off too, then lay back on the bed.
“Ellis….”
“Hmm?”
“Nothing.”
Zane moved so he was sprawled on top of me, our bodies lined up as much as they could, considering the height difference between us. It felt right, his lips on my neck, the gentle, careful way he skimmed his fingers up and down my sides, the way he breathed me in.
For a moment I thought he was going to top me, what with the way he was taking control. But he reversed our positions so I covered him.
It wasn’t that I expected him to say it back. In fact, sometimes it was worse if that happened, because you always wondered if they were saying it because they meant it or if it was instinct to return the sentiment.
The way he looked at me was “I love you” enough.
“If you want me, you just have to ask,” I murmured as I kissed up the side of his neck and licked into the spots that made him squirm.
“I want you,” he said immediately, making me laugh.
“I meant, if y
ou want to top me, that’s okay. More than okay.”
“Seriously?” He stilled.
“Yeah.”
“I… uh…. I’ve never topped before.”
Twenty-two, my mind helpfully reminded me.
“The offer’s there.”
He dragged me into an intense kiss, licking at my tongue and sucking on my bottom lip. “Not tonight,” he said when we broke apart.
I stripped the rest of his clothes from his body and laid my lips on all his favorite places while he bunched my sheets in his fists and let me.
There was no protection discussion anymore: we both had our results back and we’d had the all-clear. I would have, if he wanted me to, but I got the impression he preferred it bare, and I did too. It was a statement of trust. We both knew this was an exclusive relationship. No one else was going to touch him.
“Just me,” I whispered as I knelt on the bed and reached into the nightstand for lube.
Zane’s eyelids fluttered open, and he nodded.
I sat back on my heels between his open knees and lifted one of his legs so his ankle was resting on my shoulder. I teased him with one finger circling his hole, smearing lube there, then one finger hooked just inside him. Although begging words never left his lips, his body did the pleading for him, with rocking hips and twitching fingertips.
“Ellis,” he said, and I couldn’t take it anymore. I bent him in half and pushed my cock inside him with one smooth knife-in-butter push. His hard exhale tickled the hairs on my neck, and I kissed him, trying to pour everything I had into showing him. This is what I am. This is how I feel for you.
Zane’s foot was still hooked over my shoulder, and I kept it there as I moved inside him, loving how open and vulnerable this made him. The brown of his eyes disappeared altogether, turning them black.
His whispered name was like a mantra, repeated because I had nothing else to say. It was all him.
Strong fingers curled around my biceps, and Zane started lifting himself into each of my thrusts. It was hard, raw, powerful, all of the different ways I loved him.
His ability to come hands-free was still pretty incredible to me. His fingers clenched harder, and his whole body contracted as he painted himself with come. The sight of that was too much—I let go and came hard, deep inside him.