My brother doesn’t like it when something doesn’t go the way he expects it to, and he’s developed a bit of a hyperfixation on proving McCarthy isn’t unbreakable.
I’ve upped security at the gate to the neighborhood, those who patrol the area, and the soldiers stationed outside the house.
The Jacksonville Demons have to know by now that everyone they sent to Boston was obliterated. The smart thing for them to do would be to move on.
I don’t see that happening, but a man can dream.
Even before Malachy sunk his teeth in, Charlotte and Lukas were ours.
Now?
She’s going to be our wife, and that’s a connection I promised myself I would protect above all else. I have no desire to make my way through multiple marriages as my fathers did.
The first time I get married, it’ll be my last.
I don’t care who we have to kill or how dirty we have to play… The Jacksonville Demons will find out exactly how brutal my family is about protecting our own.
“Patrick,” Lucky says, squinting at me. It comes out sounding more likePat Wick, but he’s cute enough to get away with butchering my name. “It’s your turn.”
“Sorry, kid.” I chuckle, grabbing the small plastic fishing pole. I don’t have the first clue what the rules of the game are supposed to be, but I allowed Lucky to teach me how to play.
Apparently he gets a minute to catch as many fish as he can, and I get about ten seconds per turn, but he’s still small enough that it won’t hurt to let him cheat.
I’m fairly confident that at this age it’s all about teaching them self-confidence and keeping them busy.
“Are you going to count it out for me and let me know when my turn is over?” I ask.
He nods solemnly. “Yes, I will.”
The Christmas tree lights twinkle in the background. The mass of presents under it has grown exponentially in the last two days. If someone sat me down a month ago and told me how drastically life would change in such a short period of time, I would have told them to get their head examined.
Yet, here I am playing a fishing game with a toddler on Christmas Eve while my brother rails the omega I’m obsessed with but have yet to slip inside.
Hmm.
I might need to stop being so thoughtful of Malachy’s time with Charlotte before I find myself left behind.
Christmas Eve dinner is a big deal with a kid in the house.
Lucky knows Christmas is tomorrow, and he’s already pointed out the importance of leaving out cookies and milk for Santa Claus.
That just means one of us will have to sneak out later tonight to make sure to leave bites of the cookies and remnants of milk in the glass. I found this set of footprints you can leave throughout the house as additional proof Santa made it inside. It might be overkill at his age—I imagine kids that age are naturally predisposed to believe—but I’m still going to set it up once he’s in bed. It’ll be a nice surprise for him and Charlotte come tomorrow morning.
We stuff ourselves full of some type of glazed chicken breasts with mashed potatoes and asparagus. Asparagus is not my favorite vegetable, but luckily, there were carrots and green beans. Those are edible vegetables. Asparagus is not, at least not in my book.
“The chicken was good. Huh?” Charlotte asks her son, leaning over to kiss his cheek.
“Mmm, I liked it,” he says, grabbing her face and holding her in place as he smacks a kiss on her lips. “I love you.”
“I love you too, you sticky child,” she says, laughing as she pulls back. “You need a bath.”
“I gots new bath toys.” His small head bobbles up and down. “They squirt waterreallyfar, and a book I can takein the bath.”
“Someone must not have realized what a mess you make.” Charlotte smiles, running her hand through his hair.
It’s a bit surreal at times to watch them engage. She’s a good mom. That’s easy to see in how the two interact, and how used she is to doing everything alone.
It makes me feel like a bit of a selfish prick. I just hit thirty earlier this year. Before spending time with Lucky, I legitimately couldn’t imagine having to care for a child twenty-four hours a day, and that’s knowing we have resources. There are four of us to split responsibilities, and Miriam is around if we need an extra set of hands.
