Page 40 of Double the Redemption

16

INK

In the room’s dim light, his eyes felt gritty as he sat against the wall. He’d convinced everyone to leave a couple of hours ago and said he’d stay to talk to her again when she woke up. He wasn’t under any misguided illusion that she would wake up, realize this was all ridiculous, and move on.

The woman went through far more than most of them realized, and it would be an uphill battle to regain her trust.

Trust him.

He’d spent the last hours racking his brain for a way to fix it, but he’d come up empty. Every option that came to mind was struck down once he thought it through.

Move her to another place on the grounds? She’d feel more isolated and less trusting.

Kill Kayla. They didn’t kill women, especially not for something that hadn’t happened.

Keep Kayla on the grounds so she couldn’t blab. That would go over about as well as having cops patrolling the grounds. Not to mention, keeping her around might give her more ideas than she already had.

Hell, he’d even thought about moving her off the grounds and putting her in an apartment somewhere under his name, but that wasn’t an option either. Someone would see them coming and going, and keeping them housebound for six months would be cruel.

Fuck, the option he could hope would work was to talk it through with her and try to reassure her.

That or take the licks he’d get when Simba and the others returned. Hell, he wouldn’t put it past Taz to kill him just to prove a point.

Taz might be the funny, wild card of the group, but he was just as lethal as the rest and far less predictable. The man took his job seriously and wouldn’t hesitate to slit his throat if he thought Ink put her in danger or hurt her.

A soft grunt sounded, and Ink’s head whipped back toward the closet. Asher was waking, and Ink’s heart pounded. Would he start crying again? He really hoped not. He wasn’t sure he could take the anguished cries the little boy had made earlier. They’d damn near taken him out at the knees.

Once Asher’s eyes opened, his little head turned away from his mother’s neck to look at him. Ink didn’t move, just watched him. Asher stared at him in a way that made Ink feel unworthy, as if Asher couldn’t decide whether he was a threat.

Exhausted, Naomi never even twitched.

Asher pushed up, but Naomi didn’t stir. It concerned Ink, but he waited. Asher eased out of her arms and crawled toward him. Ink didn’t hesitate to scoop him up when he reached him.

“Hey, little man,” he murmured, holding him to his chest. “You okay?” Asher didn’t answer. He shook his head and pointed to his mouth. “Are you hungry? Thirsty?”

Asher nodded. If Ink needed confirmation that the little boy was as smart as his mother, he didn’t anymore. “Will you let me carry you to the kitchen and get you something?”

Asher nodded.

Ink glanced at Naomi again and hesitated. She was still in a deep sleep, but he didn’t want her to freak out if she woke up and found Asher no longer with her. Asher whimpered, so he decided it was a risk he’d have to take.

Carefully, he got to his feet, holding Asher tight as he made his way to the kitchen. “What would you like, Asher?” he asked, setting him on the counter near the fridge. “Would you like some milk or juice?”

“M’k,” he croaked, throat raspy from all the tears.

Ink made quick work of finding a sippy cup and filling it. He made a mental note to pick up more milk since they were running low.

Asher gulped it down, watching him out of the corner of his eye. Like he still wasn’t sure he could trust him. Ink eased back, leaning against the island across from him, waiting patiently. When he was finished, Asher set the sippy cup on the counter and looked at him steadily, unblinking, before glancing toward the living room. Ink plucked him off the counter and set him back on his feet. Asher walked out of the kitchen toward the couch and pointed at the TV.

Ink’s lips twitched, but he obliged, turning the TV to a cartoon. Asher scaled the couch and settled into the corner, wrapping the blanket around himself. Ink wanted to tuck him in, but he had a feeling the little guy wouldn’t be receptive. Instead, he took a seat in the recliner, ears tuned for Naomi and eyes fixed on the little boy who looked so small lying on the couch.

Asher fell back asleep within twenty minutes, and Ink felt himself drifting off. Worried the toddler might roll off the couch, he eased out of the recliner and sat on the floor with his back against the couch. His eyes grew heavy, and despite telling himself he needed to stay awake, he slipped into sleep.

“Asher!” Naomi blared through the apartment, and Ink’s eyes burst open. He was up and moving, even as Naomi rushed down the hall.

“Shhhhhh,” he rasped when she skidded to a halt, eyes wide. “He’s all right. He’s sleeping on the couch.”

Her head whipped around, zeroing in on Asher, who was thankfully still fast asleep in his sprawled-out position on the couch.