I rest the bag on the table and lean against the counter on the other side of the room, giving us some breathing room.
Look, I need space right now, if I’m supposed to get through this chat without raising my voice.
“Because I think deep down you already know what this is about.”
Her brows knit together. “Do I?”
“Yeah, you sure do.”
A taut silence stretches between us, daring one of us to break.
You want to play it that way, Deirdre? Fine.
I’ll go first.
“You need to stop threatening my custody of Theo.”
Deirdre stills, the color draining from her face, her mouth opening and shutting like a fish out of water. “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I cut her off before she can muddle through some inane excuse. “Please don’t. I respect you, Deirdre. You’re an amazing mother and an amazing woman. I’ve never said otherwise.”
She shifts in her seat, her foot tapping against the floor, the tension coiling through her like a spring, but she remains silent.
“But you don’t get to decide who I’m allowed to love.”
Her gaze snaps back to mine, her mouth pressed into a thin line. “This isn’t about you or your love life. It’s about Theo.”
“I know.” I cross my arms over my chest. “And if the situation were reversed, I’d be just as worried as you. But you don’t have the full picture, and you never bothered to ask me.”
Deirdre flops back in the chair, frustration mounting across her face. “Eddie?—”
But I’m done letting her direct the course of the conversation, and I don’t give a damn how many judges she has in her pocket. I hold up a hand, silencing her. “Hey, it’s my turn and you’re going to hear me out. Then you can make your decision about Kiki based on truth, not some bullshit the media spun for clout.”
Another loud sigh floats into the air as she relents, giving me the floor.
I run a hand over my brow, a headache already brewing. “I know what the papers say about her, because I read the stories, too. But here’s what those papers aren’t telling you—Drake and his goons have made it their mission to lock Kiki into a permanent state of terror.”
“What the hell do you mean?”
“Her house was vandalized last night. They smashed up the place and spray painted threats across her porch.”
Deirdre’s hand clamps over her mouth. “Jesus Christ, is she okay?”
I scoff at the idiocy of the question, even if it’s well-intentioned. “Would you be? I mean, physically, she’s okay, but her dog ran out through the busted door and got lost in the blizzard for hours. Much longer and he would have died out there.”
Deirdre grabs her ever-present water bottle and picks at the fading design etched on the side. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“I’m not done. That’s just the pinnacle on the pile of crap she’s been dealing with the last several months. She’s not sleeping. Not eating. She’s scared out of her mind that someone will hurt her… and no one will care.” Pacing the length of the kitchen, I will my anger down. “So no matter what the media likes to say, Kiki is not the bad guy, Deirdre. She’s a victim, too.”
“While I sympathize, that doesn’t make me feel any better about her being around Theo. Not with the threats she’s enduring.”
I sink into the chair across from Deirdre, holding her gaze. “Trust me, Kiki agrees with you. It’s a big part of the reason she dumped me, because she didn’t want anything to happen to any of us, and that includes you. In fact she’s the one who demanded I not be mad at you, because you were being a good mother.”
Her eyes widen, genuine surprise flashing across her features. “She said that?”
“She did. But she never stopped caring.” I reach into Theo’s bag of gifts and pull out the remote controlled dinosaur.
Deirdre gasps, snatching up the box. “How did you get this? I called over fifty places looking for this stupid thing.”
