DJ was already six feet tall with broad shoulders and lean hips. My son had swagger along with enough confidence to fill a sports stadium. He may have been the class alpha-in-training bad boy, but his grades were frankly awful. He had no interest in academics because it was mechanics all the way for him, though luckily, his penchant for sports meant he had to keep his grades up to a certain level if he wanted to play on the football and baseball teams.
He already loved cars and bikes and had helped restore his truck when he visited the club last year for summer vacation, along with Atlas, and with the help of Abe, Mason, and Bowie.
Donovan gave him a chin lift. “Didn’t like the idea of you guys out here alone. You okay?”
DJ nodded and looked at me. “Did you speak to Dad?”
I sent him a tight-lipped smile. “Yeah. It didn’t go well, but you know your dad. He’ll come around once he’s slept on it.”
DJ folded his arms across his chest. “Me and Gabby have talked. We’re not gonna visit him anymore. If he wants to see us, he’ll have to come here.”
My heart gave a twinge. “Maybe you guys should sleep on it. You know we don’t make important decisions on a whim. I get you’re upset, and I understand exactly how frustrated you must feel, but you love your dad, and he loves you.”
DJ looked down at his boots and sighed.
“Rachel’s mean, Mom,” Gabby said quietly.
“I’m sorry, honey,” I murmured, taking her hand in mine. “I told your dad she shouldn’t have shouted at you.”
“It’s not the first time,” DJ announced.
Gabby’s head snapped around to him. “Shut up, Deej!”
His eyes narrowed on her. “You need to tell Mom.”
My stare sliced to Gabby. “What’s going on?”
“Rachel’s a bitch,” DJ spat. “She talks crap to Gabby all the time and calls her lazy and spoiled. Ask us why we left.”
“Deej. Stop,” Gabby cried.
“She screamed at you and called you a lazy fat bitch,” he roared.
I froze. “She called you what?” My tone was icy cold.
Gabby’s tear-filled eyes lifted to meet mine. “She calls me names and then tells Daddy I was rude to her, but I’m not, I swear I’m not.”
A lump as big as Texas formed in my windpipe, and suddenly, I couldn’t breathe.
My daughter was beautiful and nowhere near lazy. I’d raised her to be kind and thoughtful, not vain and vacuous, and the thought of that bitch calling Gabby names, and maybe even giving her a complex, made me feel sick.
“Get in the truck, babies,” I whispered.
DJ picked up the bags he’d carried over and followed Gabby to the back of the cab.
I waited for them to get in the truck, then turned to Donovan, leaned forward, and whisper-shouted, “Can youbelievethat fucking witch?”
Donovan dipped his chin, his eyes glittering with anger. “No, I damned well can’t. The question is, what are we gonna do about it?”
“First thing I’m gonna do is call my prick of an ex-husband,” I retorted, keeping my voice down so the kids didn’t hear me. “What happens after that depends on whathedoes.”
He turned, heading back to the truck, then jumped up to the passenger side. Seconds later, he stalked toward me, holding out my phone. “Do it now.”
“The kids might hear,” I hissed, taking the cell from him.
“Good, they need to hear the way he speaks to you, and they also need to hear you fighting their corner. They’re not babies; DJ's a man, and Gabby’s gonna be heading to college soon. They don’t need you coddling them; they need to hear the truth sothey can make informed decisions. He’s a grown-assed man who should be taking responsibility for the shit he does, baby. You don’t need to shield him, and you don’t need to shieldthem.” He jerked his chin toward the truck. “You think they don’t know he’s being a dick? Jesus, Ro, they can see it plain and clear.”
Donovan’s words burrowed deep, and it hit me that he was absolutely right.
