Page 51 of Crusher

“Alright, put your mama on,” I say, and he mutters, “Love you, Daddy,” and I return, “Love you, son.”

Lola swerves the rig, and I roll my eyes just as my wife's sweet voice enters my ears, “Kayden, just wait near the door, please,” before she says, “I know what you’re going to say, so don’t.”

“Freckles,” I say softly, “I know you’re scared, but you trust me, right?” Then, I quickly confirm, “With our son?” knowing she doesn’t trust me with her heart.

Lola swerves again, and I snap, “Will you keep the rig on the road? I want to be able to get home to my family tonight!” and Lola locks her jaw.

I repeat, fucking patch chasers.

“Let me guess, your partner is a woman who wants you,” Alexiana snaps, and I smirk.

Good to know she’s still getting jealous.

“She also knows I’m married and in love with my wife,” I reply, and Lola squeezes the steering wheel, her false nails digging into her palms with how long they are, and I roll my eyes again.

“I can’t leave him all day,” my wife whispers, and I soften.

“You can because you know the school, you went to that school, so you know the teachers are old and half of them are married to the other half, so no crazy woman is going to storm into the school and shoot our son again.” I reply softly, “He’ll be alright, I promise you, Tray has this, he won’t leave him alone and if anything the kids will love that he’s a club brat.”

“Not helping, Hayes,” she whines, and I grin and remind her, “He needs this baby…”

She’s quiet for a moment before she threatens, “If anything happens to him, Hayes…” and I finish, “Then I’ll stay in the guest room.”

She scoffs, “Yeah, like that would ever happen, no, I’ll be buying a sex toy with your credit card, locking the door and using it on myself!”

“That is never going to happen!” I snap with darkness, “That body is mine!” and she giggles, which of course makes me smile.

Fuck I’ve missed that sound.

“Kayden,” my wife calls, and I hear a door open before she says, “If you set the classroom on fire, I’ll be staying with you for the rest of the week!”

Wait what?

“Freckles, I don’t think he would…”

My son cuts me off and huffs, “Mama, it was one time, it isn’t my fault the burner exploded!”

Hang on a minute…

“He did what?” I snap, but my wife ignores me and reminds our child, whose nickname is becoming more real to me, “That may be so, but you were experimenting with the wrong things, so please no fires, no broken windows, no exploding things.”

“Mama, I swear I will be on my best behavior,” he replies before he says, “Love you, Trays here.” Before I hear him slam the SUV door that my wife reluctantly accepted while glaring at me.

“Oh geez, he’s going to set something on fire, I just know it.” My wife mutters, and I choke, “Uh, baby, are we raising a hooligan?”

“He’s your son, Hayes. What did you expect?” she retorts, full of sass, and I nod because yeah, okay, I can see it, though I was rebelling because Dad was forcing me to train for a role that he ended up giving to my big brother anyway. Alexiana sighs, “If I get a call, I’m sending them your way,” and I choke on a chuckle before she sighs, “Okay, I’m going, and I know you probably have work to do.”

“What are you going to do today?” I ask as Lola pulls up to the gas station, then climbs out, slamming the door shut, and I roll my eyes and mutter, “Fucking patch chasers…”

Alexiana snorts and then answers, “Figure my life out.”

“Skating, that is your life,” I say, then add, “and me and our son and whatever other kids we may have in the future.”

“I’m on the pill, Hayes, there will be no babies,” she says, and I add, “Right now, no babies right now, but soon there will be…”

I notice Lola going in to pay with the company card and I say, “Look, just go to the rink, you have full access, skate for a little while and maybe speak to the owners. See if you can rent out the rink and do some research into teaching figure skating because we both know you can do it.”

Lola climbs back in just as the station beeps in, “Eighty- two-year-old on Havins Drive has fallen, has a head laceration, lost consciousness for a few minutes,” and I reply, “Rig 3432, ETA five minutes out,” before I say to my wife, “I’ve got to go, but I’ll message throughout the day, alright? And I expect you to be doing your research. I love you…”