"I won, Mommy!"Dante declared, his face flushed with victory and innocent excitement."You're the shark now!"
"You're too fast for me," I agreed, forcing a smile while my eyes automatically began cataloging our vulnerabilities.Sliding glass door: locked, but essentially a large window.Kitchen windows: three of them, overlooking the side yard and driveway.Living room bay window: too large, too exposed.
"Can I have juice?"Dante asked, already moving toward the kitchen with the casual confidence of a child who felt at home.
"In a minute, baby."I kept my voice light."First, let's play a new game.It's called Fortress."
His eyes widened with interest."What's that?"
,"We make the house super strong, like a castle," I explained, moving toward the front door to check the deadbolt.Locked.I turned the secondary lock above it for good measure."We close all the curtains and make it cozy inside."
Dante nodded solemnly."So, the dragons can't see in?"
"Exactly."I gave him a real smile this time, grateful for his imagination."Want to help me with the curtains while I get the windows?"
He took to the task with enthusiasm, pulling closed the heavy drapes Razor had installed in the living room—drapes I'd initially thought were just about privacy but now recognized as another layer of protection.I moved methodically through the house, checking each window lock, drawing blinds, creating a secure perimeter while keeping Dante in my sight.
Front door locked.Back door locked.Side door to garage locked.Windows secured.Blinds drawn.
I positioned myself in the living room where I could see both the front door and the hallway leading to the back of the house.Dante sat cross-legged on the floor, already distracted by the Lego bricks I'd pulled from his toy box.
"We're building a fortress too," he informed me, connecting pieces with fierce concentration.
"It looks amazing, baby."My phone vibrated in my pocket—Razor calling back.I answered immediately, keeping my voice low as I confirmed we were inside and secure.His instructions were clear, direct.His certainty that he'd be here soon was the only comfort in the growing tension.
I texted him once we hung up: "We're secure."My thumbs trembled against the screen, adrenaline making my movements jerky and uncoordinated.The house suddenly felt too small, too vulnerable despite Razor's security measures.I knew there were cameras outside, knew the doors were solid, the locks substantial.But Tyler had resources.Tyler had people.Tyler had patience.
Dante looked up from his Legos, his building slowing as he sensed the change in the air.Children are barometers for adult emotion; I'd learned that early in his life.No matter how I tried to hide my fear from him, he always knew.
"Mommy?"His voice was smaller now, his earlier excitement faded."Are you scared?"
I crossed to him, kneeling beside his half-built fortress."Just being careful," I said, running my hand over his soft hair."Sometimes mommies get worried, that's all."
He considered this, his little face serious."Is Daddy coming home?"
"Yes, baby."I settled beside him on the floor, positioning myself to keep an eye on the front windows."He's on his way right now."
"Because you're worried?"
So perceptive.Too perceptive for four years old.Another gift from his life with Tyler—the ability to read emotional undercurrents most children wouldn't notice.
"He's coming home because he loves us and wants to make sure we're okay," I said, choosing my words carefully.
Dante nodded, accepting this."He's a superhero," he said matter-of-factly, returning to his Legos with slightly more enthusiasm."Like we talked about.Normal outside, hero inside."
I blinked back unexpected tears.When had my son developed such faith in a man he'd only known for days?And how had Razor earned it so completely?
I tried to focus on Dante's building, on maintaining a facade of normalcy, but my senses had heightened to painful sharpness.Every creak of the house settling sounded like footsteps.The hum of the refrigerator became menacing.The ticking of the clock on the mantel marked seconds that stretched into eternities.
My eyes never stopped moving—from window to door, from door to Dante, from Dante back to window.I cataloged potential weapons within reach: a heavy lamp on the side table, a fireplace poker hanging on its stand, a letter opener on Razor's desk visible through the office doorway.
The house Razor had made into our home suddenly felt like a cage.Or a trap.The security measures he'd installed with such care now seemed insufficient against the determined malice I knew Tyler capable of.If he'd found us—if he was out there watching, planning—what would stop him from simply waiting until Razor left for club business again?Or sending men to overpower him?Or using his family connections to manufacture some legal reason to enter our home?
A car drove by outside, its engine sound rising and falling.Not slowing.Just passing.I released a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.
"My fortress has a trap door," Dante announced, pointing to his creation."So, the good guys can escape if bad guys come."
I swallowed hard."That's really smart thinking, baby."
