Page 40 of Tulips and Lost Time

I scan my bedroom in the dark, the streetlights outside casting just enough muted light through to make it possible to see where the bed starts and ends. Where the dressers are. Where the catch-all chair is, still, with Kari’s shirt draped over the arm. I search the bedroom for a bottle of formula and a chance to not have to leave the bed.

Though it’s futile. I haven’t made any bottles up, and doing so and leaving the mixed formula out all night would make my baby sick.

I know this.

But a tired brain needs a few extra seconds to click back into gear.

“We need milk, Bill.” I yawn again, my face aching and my jaw clicking from how wide I open my mouth. I toss my sheet aside and place my feet on the throw rug Kari and I had bickered over for hours.

She wanted a shag, so the long threads would be the first thing we touched in the mornings.

I wanted something lower cut. Something more sophisticated.

I dig my toes into the lush shag now and try to smile, knowing she won that argument. She won the argument we had about pillows. The one about live plants in our bedroom. The one about getting a dog—I wanted one, and she was entirely too sensible, citing our ridiculous shifts and the fact that the pup would be home alone a little too much.

Things have changed now, of course. Billy has arrived, and no matter the plans Kari and I made that led us here, my work commitments are going to have to change.

Because bad things happen to good people.

Assholes run red lights.

And best laid plans are always a magnet for utter devastation.

“Come on, baby.” I push up to stand and turn to scoop Billy into my arms. She doesn’t smell yet, so I have time on the diaper change situation. Instead, I hold her close and rest her ear over my heart. It’s what she’d find comfort in, right? She had her mom, and now… she has me.

A heartbeat is surely the next best thing in an otherwise fucked up situation.

Stepping away from the bed and using the streetlight outside to guide my way, I wander toward the bedroom door and into the dimly lit hall outside.

Tomorrow, I’ll sort out a solution to make bottles upstairs. Maybe boil and prep water, then divvy up the powder and ready it to be dropped into the bottle at the last second.

It could all be done without me getting up and wandering downstairs. Waking us both all the way up when sleep is where we could be visiting the woman we love.

The one our entire existences revolve around.

“Does it feel like you’re missing half of you, too, Bill?” I move down the stairs, one slow step at a time as the world outside is just… silent. Cool. Calm. “Does everything feel too quiet for you, too?”

“I’m down here,” a male voice rumbles through my home. Instantly, my head snaps up and my heart gives a painful knock. “Just be cool,” Kane murmurs. Slowly, he steps into view at the bottom of my stairs, the six and a half feet of tatted thuggery skulking around in the shadows. “I didn’t want you to get down here and panic.”

Anger beats in my blood, though it’s fleeting. Worry follows after, but Kane is a safe person for me and my family. Despite his criminal enterprises. Despite the danger his very existence poses. “Jesus, Bishop. Why the hell are you in my home?”

“Jess wanted to stay.” His eyes are on Billy, his almost-black stare seemingly threatening. But I know better. I know differently. He drops his tattooed hands into his jeans pockets and tilts his head as I come to a stop. Then he grins, boyish and playful when I push the baby toward his chest. He cradles her instantly. Protects her as I move off the bottom step and head toward the kitchen. “Your sister wanted to stay,” he repeats and rocks the baby, following me toward the kitchen. “But the girls wanted her at home, too. No way was I letting her or them sleep here on the couch, so I traded off. Jess is with the twins, Jay and Soph are staying with them, too. I’m here keeping an eye on you, since you’re clearly about to light this town up with your rage and an automatic weapon.”

“I don’t even own one of those.” I roll my eyes and snag an already half-filled bottle of water. My sisters have intervened. They’ve taken some of the work out of my hands, like they said they would. Then I turn to find the tubs of formula, just two feet away. “I’m too busy with Billy to embrace my anger just yet.”

“Seems I’m an overachiever then.” Kane wanders in and leans against the counter. “Because I can be pissed, productive, and get revenge on a guy, all at the same time. Sometimes, that’s what makes it extra fun.”

“Yes. But you’re a fuckin’ psycho whose rap sheet has not yet been shared with me.” I firm my lips and get to work mixing formula and water. “I’m starting to hear things about you, Bish. Concerning things.”

“Yeah?” His lips curl in my peripherals. His mischievousness, the very reason my sister fell in love with a thug in the first place. “The ink dried on my marriage certificate a while back, Lenaghan. Seems the return policy has ended.” He chuckles, his chest cushioning my daughter and bouncing while she half dozes. “What have you heard about me?”

“Illegal things. Marc said something about you.”

“Then Marc and I will talk tomorrow.” He lifts Billy and presses a kiss to her pert nose. “She looks just like Luna did when she was brand new.”

“Lenaghan genes were strong.” A lance of pain works across my stomach and almost takes my breath away. “Seems like a lot of work for a woman to carry a baby as long as they do, only for them to give birth and have it to come out as a copy/paste of their daddy. Doesn’t really seem fair.”

He strokes a tattooed finger along the bridge of Billy’s nose, providing a contrast most others would panic at. The hardened, dangerous, machine-like mercenary, and the sweet, innocent, days old infant. I should be worried. I should snatch my baby back and keep him away… according to society. But there’s this thing they say about judging books by their covers.

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