HOLY SHIT.
“She used to work for them, on some level. I think she still does.” He rolls his shoulders back, looking taller. “I care about you. Alana cares about me. Favors were called in.” His face sours. “I’m probably going to have to detail her car and clean Midge’s litter box for a year.” He shudders and smirks. “Good thing you’re worth it.”
The color drains from his face as he shakes his head and sends a text message. The phone buzzes, and the tension in his face softens but doesn’t relax. “The gift your ex left wasn’t just for you. I think it was for Alana, too.”
Oh. I pull the blankets closer to my body. This wasn’t some domestic abuse crime. Everything about this situation feels bigger.
“Alana’s wrath is swift and thorough. There’s no getting away from it.” Lance huffs a little. “If I didn’t hate him so much for being a damn abusive twat, I’d almost feel bad for him.” He leans over one more time and kisses my forehead. “Alana doesn’t skimp on security either. You’re safe here. And I won’t let anything happen to you or Drew. So, snuggle up and relax.”
Closing my eyes, I enter that hazy zone where my thoughts mix with dreams, and I can’t tell if I’m awake or asleep. I’m not sure how long I stay like that before mom guilt takes over. Time to check on my son.
I get dressed in the one outfit I have in my go bag—a pair of jeans and a faded gray T-shirt. My hair is going to be a frizzy mess no matter what I do at this point, so I pull the still-damp strands into a ponytail.
Lance is in the kitchen, bouncing between his laptop and the stove where he’s making a grilled cheese sandwich. Downstairs, crowds of people cheer. Drew’s got to be playing a video game.
Lance flips the buttered bread and gives me a once over. His greedy grin appears as he wraps his arm around my waist and kisses me. My insides are jelly. “God, you look good.” He steps to the side and calls down, “Drew, lunch!”
Is it lunchtime already?
How long was I out?
Drew stomps up the stairs and beams up at Lance. “Did you show her?”
Lance flips the sandwich onto a plate. “Nope, I thought you would want to.”
Drew grabs the plate with one hand and pushes me in the back toward the laptop. “Mom, look!”
The screen is a black and gray blob of circles. “What am I seeing?”
“It’s a family of raccoons. Lance has a video of them walking around the yard. They sleep in the trash bins outside.”
Oh.
Lance grabs two more slices of bread. “Yeah, use caution when throwing anything out.” He’s trying to keep us safe, distracted from whatever danger came for us at our apartment. And at the same time, he’s trying to make this our home, if only temporarily. Complete with adorable woodland animals.
My heart is warm in a thousand places, seeping into crevices I didn’t even know I had.
Hours later, I’m on my feet, pointing at both of them. “Suck it, bitches.” I dominated their asses at Settlers of Catan.
Lance leans back in his chair, creating as much space as he possibly can between himself and the table without cowering.
My son frowns at me, scoots closer to Lance, and in a loud fake whisper, he says, “Now do you see why we don’t play board games anymore?”
Lance fake-whispers back, “Candyland must have been hardcore at your house.”
“I’ve never won a single game.” Drew’s eyes narrow. “She always got the double squares.”
Lance puts his hand to his mouth. “Did you cheat at Candyland?”
I mean, I was the one who shuffled because he couldn’t. And I have serious doubts Drew even remembers playing. I wave my finger around like a weapon and point to my eyebrow to demonstrate. “Uncle Joey has a scar on his eyebrow.”
“Yeah, so. He says he got it in a fight.”
“Yeah, when I punched him for calling me a cheater during Monopoly” That game has torn more families apart than most wars and divorces combined. My statsmightbe a little inflated, but still.
Lance tilts his head to the side. “But did you cheat?”
I wave him away and start cleaning up the game. “That’s irrelevant.”