“Did you … did you hurt him?”
He tries and fails to hide his smirk as he slowly nods. “Some.”
“Some?”
“Yeah, some.”
“Duke, what does ‘some’ mean?”
“It means, yes, I hurt him. But last I checked, he was still breathing.”
He clears his throat, his fingers working through my hair. He fusses over a wayward curl that won’t stay in place.
“Is that why his mom is saying he’s sick?”
“Probably.”
“How bad is it? Why wouldn’t he go to the police if you beat him up?”
My pulse is skyrocketing as the potential fallout races through my mind. If Matt goes to the cops because my boyfriend beat him up, could it affect my custody agreement?
He shakes his head. “He won’t. I have something on him. And we came to an agreement. When Holden let him go, he told Matt I don’t want him near you or the boys, and he has one month to sign away his rights before we have another chat.”
I wring my hands and search his face, wondering if he’s actually real or if I imagined him this whole time.
“And if he doesn’t?”
“He will.”
“But if he?—”
“Then I’ll deal with him. He’s my problem now. I don’t want you to think about it.”
“So, what about his mom?”
“Block her number. She has no custodial rights. It may not be her fault what he did, but if she wanted a relationship with her grandkids she should’ve stepped in and tried to protect them from him.” He cups the side of my face. “And trust me. Trust that I can deal with this for you.”
He plants a kiss on my nose and pulls away. “Boys! Let’s take Mama on a date.”
Over the next few weeks, I don’t hear a word from Matt or anyone in his family. Every day that passes, I relax a little more.
Maybe whatever scare tactics Duke used really worked. Maybe he’s gone for good, out of our lives.
I’m almost too afraid to dream it.
I wake up to the sound of a chainsaw outside my window. When I look out, I see Duke cutting a board with a stack of lumber beside him.
“What is he doing?” I muse.
Then I see my two little boys chasing each other with tape measures and big smiles on their faces.
They’ve finally started sleeping better. After the kidnapping, Dutton was waking up with night terrors at least three times a week. I’ve been exhausted, trying to keep up with them and go to work. Eden is still babysitting for me, and Duke has been dropping not-so-subtle hints about how much he thinks my job is bad for my sleep schedule.
I think he’d let me be a stay-at-home girlfriend if I wanted to be.
The idea of depending on a man for my income again fills me with dread. I can’t do that to myself, not after what I’ve been through.
Bartending isn’t a long-term plan. I’ve been looking into schooling options, but with the twins and working, I know it will be a long road to getting a degree under my belt.
