Page 7 of Resisted

The fucker only smiled widely. “None.”

Silas rolled his eyes. “I’ll take her to bed.”

He bent down, and I stopped him. “No. I’ve got her.”

“Really? Because it doesn’t look like you could function sitting down, let alone standing right now.”

“I said I’ve got her.” And I did. My sleepiness was fading away, and I was fairly certain I could manage to get a child to bed without much of a hassle.

I scooped an arm under her knees and wiggled my other between her head and my thigh and lifted her up. With a sigh and more effort than it probably should have taken, I heaved myself off the couch and carried her to her room like she was fine china in a room full of banana peels. One wrong step, and the precious china could break. I gently kicked open the door with my foot before entering the pink eyesore of a bedroom. It was disgusting really, to have this much pink in one location. But the heathen in my arms seemed to love it this way.

I walked the final steps to her bed, laying her down on the bubblegum pink bedspread. She reached for me, not wanting to let go, and my heart beat faster. It was strange, this feeling of being wanted. Even if it was from a miniature dictator who only liked you when she slept. I pried her fingers off my shirt and rested her hand at her side before grabbing the nearest blanket and covering her.

“That should be good,” I muttered to myself as I wiped the sweat off my palm onto my denim-clad thigh. I didn’t realize how nervous I was that I would wake her until I finally released her from my grip. Shit. I couldn’t imagine how parents did this every day. Not only did you have to listen to the nonstop, never-ending chatter, but then you had to worry too? No thanks. That was a hard fucking pass.

I tiptoed out of her room, closing the door behind me, only to face a group of eyes staring at me. Margret raised a brow. “So, how was it? I hope she was good.”

I mean, she hadn’t ripped things apart with her teeth, if that was what she meant, but I wouldn’t be volunteering for this job again, ever. Not like I’d volunteered for it this round, anyway. “We both lived.”

“Really, that’s all I wanted.” Was that laughter in her eyes? Was Margret laughing at me?

“I’m going home,” I grumbled as I pushed past them, heading straight for the front door. I was going home and going to sleep. If I actually could. Though I doubted my sleep would be nearly as peaceful as it was tonight. A fact I didn’t wish to examine because that kid drove me up the fucking walls. “Don’t ask me to babysit again.”

I slammed the front door on my way out, but it did nothing to muffle the joyous laughter of everyone inside finding their amusement at my expense.

Chapter 3

SILAS

Two years later

“Belladonna!”I screamed, way louder than necessary. She fucking hated it, which made me love saying it that much more. The little sprite would always roll her eyes, cross her arms, and glare.

“Stop calling me that.” She appeared in the doorway.

“What am I supposed to call you?” I mumbled as I lifted the plastic grocery bags.

“My name.”

“Belladonna?”

She growled. She was perfecting that. It sounded almost feral. “My name is Bella.”

“Look, baby.” Vincent approached from behind me. “This is the first time we’ve seen you in months. If you would pull back on the attitude, it might save a headache later.”

She groaned. “What’s in the bags?”

“Mom said you wanted to decorate cookies but didn’t have the stuff. Figured we might as well pick it up on our way over.” I piled the bags on the kitchen table. “Where is she?”

“Who?”

“Mom.” I sighed. The kid knew full well who I was looking for.

“Bingo night at the diner.” Shit. I’d forgotten about that, and my mother conveniently hadn’t mentioned it when I called earlier today. “My dads are in the garage watching football.” Boyce and Vince already began to head that direction when she added, “Don’t you dare!”

“Don’t I dare what?” Boyce asked, his fingers already on the knob.

“Someone has to make cookies with me.”

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