“Oh my God!” She sucks in a ragged breath and presses her hand to the window. “I’m here. Mommy’s here …”
I spin around, determination and anger fueling my steps.
I will kill him and take the keys off of his dead body.
“Wait!” Dallas says.
I turn around and see her hand under the front driver’s side wheel, feeling around on the interior of the metal. She pulls out a tiny black box and slides the top off. She sighs in relief when a key falls into her hand. She uses it to unlock the front door. My chest squeezes when she climbs into the back seat with the boys.
“Mommy’s here. Mommy’s got you!”
I look inside, leaning into the door and assessing the state the boys are in. “Do we need an ambulance?”
She’s holding both of them to her chest, tears streaming down her cheeks. One of them is clinging to her neck, the other one crying into her chest. My breaths are coming in steady, short bursts as I feel the fury burning through my body.
“No, just the police.” She starts rocking back and forth, whispering to them that it’s going to be okay.
The truck is filthy, and the boys aren’t in much better shape. They don’t look hurt, just like they haven’t had a bath in a couple of days. There’s a Spider-Man blanket on the floorboard. Neither of them is wearing shoes.
“Okay. I can drive y’all home.” I pull out my phone and dial 911.
“We’re talking drunk driving in the middle of the night with two toddlers in the back seat to go harass his ex-wife at her place of work. And he’s not going to lose custody for that?”
I’m not just angry. I’m not just sad or disappointed.
I am vibrating with rage and plotting a murder.
“Duke, I need you to remember that the things I’m telling you aren’t my personal feelings and opinions. These are the facts. This is how the Texas family court works, how the judge will rule based on the laws that were broken,” Warner, our family lawyer who’s gotten us out of countless sticky legal situations, says from his place near the kitchen island.
Rosie is on the sofa, her arm draped around Dallas’s shoulders. Dallas is nursing a glass of rosé, a hollow look in her eyes.
Holden is behind them, pacing back and forth.
“I’m just not understanding how this isn’t child endangerment and abuse,” I say.
“For starters, he wasn’t caught driving. He went inside the bar and had more alcohol, which means the actual blood alcohol content he was at while driving isn’t something they can accurately determine. Trust me, this will look bad on him in court, but best-case scenario is him being ordered to take parenting classes and to use a breathalyzer during his visits for the next few month or two.”
I gape at him, wondering if I somehow slipped into the twilight zone and this is a nightmare I can’t wake up from.
Dallas finishes off her wine and sets the glass on the table. She rises to stand and walks over to Warner. “Thank you. I appreciate the last-minute visit. I’m exhausted. I’m gonna go to bed.”
She glances back at me, blinking back tears before continuing to walk down the hallway to where the boys are sleeping. My chest feels like it’s caving in.
Rosie stands and walks over to Holden, getting ready to leave. We all step back outside onto the porch of the bunkhouse.
“We need to?—”
Holden cuts me off with a hand on my shoulder. “We will, Duke. We’ll talk tomorrow. The boys are safe for tonight.”
I exhale, nodding. Rosie gives me a sympathetic smile, and Warner shakes my hand before they all three walk toward their vehicles. I go back inside, preparing to sleep on the couch because there’s no way I can leave them alone. Eden is here, but she’s sleeping.
The police basically did nothing, except for take Matt to jail for being too drunk to drive home. If we had rideshare way out here in the boonies, he would’ve been able to just take one home. He wasn’t actually ‘caught’ behind the wheel.
They asked me and Dallas a few questions before sending us on our way with the boys.
I don’t think I’ll be able to get a wink of sleep tonight, but I kick off my boots and set them by the door. I collapse on the sofa, releasing an exhale. When I turn back around, Dallas is standing there in the hallway, gazing at me.
“You need something?”
