"I know, buddy.And it's okay to feel that way.It's okay to be angry and scared and sad all at the same time."
Behind me, I hear Ethan shift impatiently, but I ignore him.This is exactly what Jake needs; someone who understands, who doesn't try to fix or minimize his pain.
"What if I can't stop being angry?"Jake asks.
"Then we'll figure out better ways to let it out.Ways that don't involve breaking things that can't be replaced."Hades glances around the destroyed room."But the good news is, most of this stuff can be fixed or replaced.And the really important stuff, like how much your parents loved you, and how much your aunt and your brothers and sisters love you, that stuff can't be broken no matter how hard you throw things."
Jake considers this, then launches himself at Hades, wrapping his small arms around his neck."I'm sorry I broke everything."
"It's okay.We'll clean it up together."Hades holds him close, and over Jake's head, his eyes meet mine.The tenderness in his expression, the way he's comforting this broken little boy, makes something warm and dangerous flutter in my chest.
"Can you stay for a while?"Jake asks."Until I fall asleep?"
"Of course."
"This is ridiculous," Ethan mutters from behind me."The child needs discipline, not coddling."
Hades' eyes go cold as they shift to Ethan, but his voice remains gentle for Jake's benefit."Why don't we get this room cleaned up first, and then we can talk about bedtime?"
For the next hour, I watch Hades work magic with all five kids.He helps Jake sort through his belongings, separating what can be repaired from what needs to be replaced.He listens to Emma talk about her worries without trying to fix everything.He reads to Lily and Sophie, his deep voice turning the simple story into something captivating.
And through it all, Ethan hovers like a disapproving cloud, making snide comments about "enabling behavior" and "lack of proper boundaries."Neither Hades nor I have the time to deal with Ethan, both of us more worried about the kids than a grown man throwing a tantrum.Thankfully, after being ignored, he leaves.I sigh with relief.I can’t deal with any more of his bullshit.
By the time we get all the kids settled in their rooms, I'm emotionally drained but grateful.Hades handled everything with such patience and wisdom, never once raising his voice or making any of them feel ashamed for their grief.
"Thank you," I tell him as we head back to the living room."I don't know what I would have done without you."
"You would have figured it out.You're a good mom, Angel."
The casual way he calls me mom, like it's just a fact rather than something I'm desperately trying to become, makes my chest tight with emotion.
"I'm not their mom," I say quietly."I'm just trying not to screw them up too badly."
"You're the closest thing they have to a mom now.And you're doing a damn good job of it."
We stop in the kitchen, and suddenly I'm very aware of how close he is.He steps closer, and I catch the faint scent of his jacket, something smoky.His presence makes the air thick.My pulse jumps.
"I should probably get going," he says, but he doesn't move away.
He’s been amazing for the kids, giving them so much support, including giving us this house to live in.He’s here almost every day but spends his nights at the clubhouse.He doesn’t want the children to be confused about anything, and us living separately is helping them settle in as he shows up constantly, being a solid figure in their lives.
"Probably," I agree, but I don't step back either.
There's something electric in the air between us, something that's been building for weeks.The way he looks at me, the way my pulse quickens when he's near, the way everything feels more right when he's here.
"Evangeline," he says quietly, his voice rougher than usual.
"Yeah?"
"You know I'd do anything for those kids, right?Anything for you?"
The intensity in his voice makes my breath catch."I know."
"Good.Because there's nothing I wouldn't do to keep you all safe."
He reaches up, his fingertips brushing a strand of hair away from my face.The touch is gentle, reverent, and it makes my skin burn with awareness.
I find myself leaning into his touch, my eyes drifting closed as his thumb traces the line of my cheekbone.This is dangerous territory, but I can't bring myself to care.Not when being near him feels like coming home.
