“Dylan, go inside,” I order, handing him my keys.
“No, not this time, Mom.”
I look at my son’s face, so determined, so grown-up suddenly.For years I’ve tried to shield him from the ugliness, but Dylan sees Russell clearly now, and its high time I accept that.He doesn’t need my protection from the truth anymore.
“You’re right,” I tell Dylan, placing my hand on his shoulder.“You deserve to witness this.”
I turn back to Russell, whose face has morphed from anger to that smug expression I’ve grown to hate.
“This ends today,” I spit out, my voice vibrating with fury.“I’m filing for an order of protection first thing tomorrow morning.You don’t call him, you don’t text him, you sure as hell don’t pick him up from school.You come within a hundred feet of either of us, and you’ll be arrested.”
Russell laughs.“Good luck with that, babe.No judge is going to keep a father from his son.”
“Try me,” I say, stepping closer.“I’ve documented everything.The missed child support payments.The times you’ve shown up drunk.The manipulative bullshit you pull with Dylan.Every.Single.Thing.”
His smile falters slightly.
“And this little stunt today?Abducting our son from school?That’s the final nail in your coffin.”
“I didn’t abduct anyone,” he snarls.“He’s my fucking son too.”
“Only when it’s convenient or gets you something you want.”
For a moment, I think he might actually lunge at me, and I brace myself.But then something in his eyes changes.He looks at Dylan, then back at me, and I see the calculation happening.He’s not done, but he knows he’s lost this round.
“This isn’t over,” he mutters, backing away toward his car.
“It is over,” I say firmly.“It’s been over for years.You just never got the memo.”
As Russell retreats to his car, Dylan slips his hand into mine and squeezes.We stand there, watching until his taillights disappear around the corner.
“I’m so sorry, baby,” I whisper, pulling him into a hug.“I’m so sorry he did this.”
“It’s not your fault,” Dylan says into my shoulder.“He’s just...he’s just a piece of shit.”
Hearing my son say those words breaks my heart and relieves me at the same time.There’s no more pretending.No more excuses.
“Let’s go inside,” I say, guiding him toward the door.“I need to call Shadow and let him know you’re okay.”
As we climb the stairs to our apartment, Dylan asks, “Did you mean it?About the protection order?”
“Every word,” I answer, unlocking our door.“I should have done it a long time ago.”
Once inside, I text Shadow that Dylan is safe, then sink onto the couch.Dylan sits beside me, his expression serious beyond his years.
“What happens now?”he asks.
I take his hand.“Now we make sure he can’t pull something like this again.And you...”I pause, thinking about that video of him on Bluebell, his face so carefree and full of joy.“You keep riding horses if that’s what makes you happy.Maddox sent me a video earlier.You were amazing.I’m so proud of you.”
A small smile breaks through his worried expression.“Really?I wasn’t sure you’d let me go back after I said that thing about Maddox liking you.”
I squeeze his hand, thinking about the man who somehow managed to bring that smile back to my son’s face.“I think maybe it’s time I give Maddox a chance.”
“I think so too.We can use a good guy in our corner.”
Dylan and I are arguing over what we’re gonna have for dinner when there’s a sharp knock at the door.Dylan jumps, his eyes darting toward the sound.
“It’s okay,” I reassure him.“It’s probably Shadow.”
