“It’s my house and my son. My responsibility.” Nick kissed him, hard, and then, when he paused to breathe, said, “I love you.”
Oliver froze beneath his lips, and Nick trembled. If Oliver backed away from him now, he’d probably collapse again, right there on the floor.
Outside, a crash shattered the stillness, and a car alarm sounded, high and piercing, close to the house.
“What—”
Another crash.
They rushed to the kitchen, and the car alarm got louder. Nick pulled the front door open and nearly tripped on Anya’s welcome mat as he struggled to understand what he was seeing.
The passenger side window of Oliver’s SUV had been smashed.
And Hayden stood next to the vehicle with a baseball bat in his hands.
“What are you doing?”
Hayden’s eyes widened at Nick’s shout. He stared at them with a vicious smile before he hefted the baseball bat and slammed it against the SUV’s door. Despite the black vehicle on the darkened street, Nick could make out the size and shape of the dent in the metal.
“Hayden! Stop it!” He ran across the yard as Hayden wound up for another swing.
“Fuck you!” The bat connected with the sideview mirror, sending pieces of plastic and glass flying.
Nick caught him before he had another chance to swing. Like Oliver had done with him, he wrapped his arms around Hayden’s torso, hauling him backward. The kid thrashed, and his head clipped Nick’s chin. Blood filled in his mouth, but he pulled, hauling Hayden away from the SUV.
“Fuck you!” Hayden fought and kicked the whole way back to the house. Somewhere along the way, he’d dropped the bat, because Oliver had it when they were back inside, the three of them all wild-eyed and gasping.
“Sit down,” Nick said quietly, then spat red-tinged saliva into the sink.
“No.” Hayden kicked at a chair.
“Sit down!” His words were a roar, and Hayden blanched as he dropped into the chair like he’d been punched. “Apologize to Oliver.”
Hayden eyed them both, and Nick braced for more hatred and slurs, but then Hayden slumped in his chair, suddenly the same bored teenager as always. His fight was gone. “Sorry.”
“Stay there.” He pointed at the table, then glanced at Oliver, who nodded silently. He must have set the bat down because it leaned against the kitchen counter, out of both their reaches.
Nick went down the hall. Hayden had gotten out, and Nick needed to know how. He turned the knob on Hayden’s bedroom door, but when he pushed, the door held tight. Nick removed the lock when Hayden moved in—another condition from the court— so he glared back down the hall.
“What did you do?”
Hayden didn’t look up from the kitchen table. “I jammed a chair under the knob.”
Nick rolled his eyes and put all his weight against the door, leading with his shoulder. It took a few tries, but eventually the door gave way. Nick’s momentum burst him into the room, and cool air hit his face.
The window was open.
He slammed it closed, the glass rattling in the frame, and stalked back down the hall. Hayden shrank into himself, but Nick kept walking, past him, to open the front door. He motioned to Oliver to follow, and Oliver slipped past him and stepped outside.
“Don’t move,” Nick said over his shoulder. “I’m leaving the door open, and if you’re anywhere but at that table when I come back inside, house arrest is going to feel like a birthday party. Do you understand me?”
Hayden nodded without meeting his eyes.
Oliver was standing with his hands on his hips, staring at the wreckage of his car, when Nick joined him.
“You need to go.”
“Yeah.”
