“Okay. Okay,” she replies impatiently.
I glance at my son again, and I just want to hold him, ask him a million questions, and kiss his little face, but I must move at her pace.
I head through the woods as fast as I can to get to the other street. The entire time, I glance back every now and then to make sure they’re still there, until I can no longer see them. When I finally reach my truck, I don’t relax because I’m scared that she’ll be gone when I reach that street.
It takes less than a minute for me to make my way back to where I left them. As I loop around the block, I notice that she’s no longer in the spot that I left her, but I can see her moving to the opposite side from where I’m coming.
She’s heading down a side alley, and she’s carrying CJ in her arms. He’s on the smaller side to be four, but she still shouldn’t be carrying him. I jump the curb and cross over the parking lot to get to where she is. I jump out of the truck in a side alley, not shutting off the ignition, and corner her.
“Don’t make me turn ugly in front of him. Please don’t get fucked up, Charisma. I don’t want him to see that side of me, but girl, if you try to play me, it’ll be the last time you play anybody. Now get your scandalous ass in the truck.”
She huffs and rubs CJ’s back as he whimpers and buries his face in her neck. They climb into the back seat of my truck before I hop in and drive off.
CJ was afraid of Chaos at first, but I reassured him on the ride over that he was safe, kind, and he could trust him. Once we were back at the apartment, while Chaos cooked dinner, I taught him a few basic movements, handshapes, and facial expressions that he could use to communicate with CJ. I know that this is a lot for Chaos to take in—running into me, learning that he has a kid, and learning that his kid is deaf.
He has every right to be angry about missing out on the first four years of our son’s life, but he cannot blame me for it all. All evening, he has had so many questions about CJ, and I have tried to answer everything that I can and allowed CJ to answer other things, translating his words for Chaos.
I was hesitant about telling CJ who he is, but although he’s still developing the skill, he can lip read. I was concerned that he might pick up on something Chaos said and figure out who Chaos was to him.
Over dinner, I casually brought the subject up and explained to him who Chaos was. He had often asked where his father was since he was three. I would explain to him that his father had to go away to do some work.
When he turned four several months ago, he blew my mind when he asked if his dad was in jail. He told me that a little girl at his academy said that’s what it meant when mommies said their daddies had to go away for work.
I told him that nothing could be further from the truth, although I was unsure myself. Instead, I told him that his father did dangerous work, and he had to protect us from it.
When I explained to him over dinner that Chaos was his father, a broad smile spread over his little chubby, caramel-colored cheeks. He looks exactly like Chaos.
In an act that surprised Chaos but not me, CJ jumped out of his chair, rounded the table, and threw his arms around him. I tried to bite back a grin because Chaos didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to influence his attitude toward CJ in any way, so I sat back and watched.
Eventually, Chaos lifted his arms and wrapped them around my little guy and pressed his cheek against the top of CJ’s head. I could see him inhaling his scent, as if he were memorizing it, and then he rubbed his back.
The moment that he appeared to be getting emotional, he jumped up and headed to the kitchen with our dishes. When I asked if I could help, he barked at me that I could give CJ a bath and pointed me to where I could find the towels and washcloths.
That had been almost an hour ago. After I made sure CJ thoroughly cleansed himself because he hated baths, I put him to bed in the guestroom and signed him a story from my phone.
I try to listen closely now to hear where Chaos is, but I don’t hear a thing. He may have left for all I know. The loft apartment is mostly silent other than the air conditioning unit and the white noise.
Just as I finish tying the knot, I hear the master bedroom door open.
Although it’s a loft apartment, the guest bedroom is an open space downstairs that is closed off by a partition. The master bedroom is separated from the rest of the space by a mezzanine level, yet it still manages to have a locked door on it.
I didn’t lock the door when I came in here, because I knew it would draw suspicion, which is the last thing that I wanted. He sent me up here earlier after I put CJ to bed, telling me that I could come up here and relax.
I shove the sheets underneath the bed, but not quick enough. He stomps toward me in those hard, black, rugged biker boots.
“What are you doing?” he asks in a gruff tone.
“Nothing.”
“Why are you sitting on the floor?”
“Just down here stretching my legs and thinking is all. Practicing a few yoga moves to help me unwind,” I lie, tucking my left leg in and unfolding my right leg as though I were stretching.
Chaos moves so quickly that I have no time to react. He jerks my body forward, pinning my upper half against my legs and reaches behind me. He pulls the length of sheets that I stuffed underneath the bed out from under it.
“What’s this?” he asks in a gruff tone, jerking me to my feet as he jumps to his.
“Nothing.”
