Wyatt gathers both Caleb and Buddy back into his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of his son’s head. His voice is gravel soft, trembling with rage and grief and love. “You don’t have to go back, son. You can stay here.”
My breath lodges in my throat.Oh God. He can’t promise that. Not without court orders. Not without lawyers. Not like this. I bite my lip, forcing myself silent, but panic erupts inside me when Wyatt lifts his eyes to mine.
“Wyatt,” I whisper, hoping to stop him, because God help me, I can see in his eyes what he’s going to say, and it terrifies me.
“You’ll stay here. You, me, Gwen, and Buddy will all live here together.”
Caleb pulls back enough to look up at him. “You mean it? We’ll be a family?”
Wyatt nods once, solid and sure. “Yeah, Bub. That’s what we are … a family.”
Shit.My body jerks as if I’ve suffered massive internal damage and, in a way, I have. Wyatt just gave me everything I will ever want in this life, and yet it’s not real. He’s offering stuff that he doesn’t have the power to give—promising what he can’t grant. The truth in that is like a punch straight to the sternum.
What the fuck is he thinking?
When Caleb is forced to go back to his mother’s, it will kill him.
It will kill me.
Anger keeps filling my blood. I’m so pissed, but I force myself to lock it down. I have to keep my shit together—at least until I’m alone with Wyatt and then … I’m going to beat the hell out of him.
Makeup Sex. The Perfect Gift
HORSE
My little boy is worn out.
He fell asleep in my arms twenty minutes into his movie about the damn lost fish. I didn’t mind—having him curled up on me like that is the closest thing to peace I get most days. What I do mind is that Gwen didn’t join us.
I know she’s upset.
I know she stayed in the kitchen because she didn’t want to look at me.
And it probably makes me every kind of bastard, but I don’t give a damn how mad she is. I told my son the truth, and I’m going to make sure I deliver on it. For that reason, I didn’t insist on her coming to sit with us. She needs time. I’ll give it to her—at least for now. When we’re alone, she’ll either calm down or come at me swinging. It could go either way with this woman.
Animal was the one who knocked on the door earlier to let me know the boys put a trace on Rebbie’s phone. It’s a club-owned phone, club-paid plan—anything said on it is legal for me to have and record. If Rebbie and Dee really are plotting shit behind my back, it’ll come out. If it were just me involved, I’d settle it the old way and slit their throats—women or not. I needto protect my son, however, and because all of this touches Caleb—and custody is on the line—every step has to be clean.
No blood. No witnesses. No mistakes.
I lay Caleb down on the couch carefully, easing him off my chest. He doesn’t even stir. I spread a throw blanket over him and tuck it around his shoulders. He looks so damn small like this. Too small to carry the weight he’s been carrying. I take a deep breath and force myself to straighten, rolling the tension out of my shoulders. When I turn back toward the kitchen, I can still hear Gwen. I guess I should consider myself lucky she didn’t just walk out the front door. I walk in and find her at the island, scrubbing the butcher block top with enough force to take a layer off. At this rate, I’m half expecting to see a damn hole appear.
Buddy is on his back beside her, all four paws in the air, snoring like a grown man. The dog has no shame. None.
“I got Caleb down for a nap,” I say quietly. She doesn’t respond. Just scrubs harder. “If you keep going at the island like that, there’s not going to be anything left of it,” I warn.
She finally stops and looks up at me—and holy hell, she’s pissed. The kind of pissed that makes a sane man turn around and walk out. Too bad for her, I’m not sane.
“It’s better I abuse your island than kill you,” she hisses. “Which is what I really want to do.”
I lift a brow. “Listen, I know you got upset about what I told Caleb?—”
“I’m not upset, Wyatt.” Her voice is low, vibrating with something sharp. “I’m livid. That little boy is hurting, and you lied to him.”
“I didn’t lie to my son, Gwen.”
She laughs, but the sound is cold and ugly. “I have to go.” She slaps the sponge and bottle of cleaner down so hard they bounce, then turns to walk out.
There’s no fucking way I’m going to let that happen. I cross the area between us in three strides. I wrap my arm around her and drag her back to me.
