Page 91 of The Grief We Hold

The words devastate me. I hate that this kid’s life experiences have led him here, feeling weird and wanting to learn how to fight. “Then I’ll show you how to protect yourself and your mom. It’s not all about fighting. It’s about knowing how to make an emergency phone call and how to hide if you have to. I can teach you things like that for now. And when you’re a little older, we can see if you still want to learn how to fight.”

He throws his arms around my neck. “You’re the best, Wraith.”

I hug him, feeling a tightening in my throat at the gesture. “You wanna call me Wraith or do you want to call me by my real name?”

Fen steps back. “Real name?”

I nod. “Yeah. My real name is Axel. Wraith is the name I use in the motorcycle club I’m part of.”

“Axel.Ax-el. Ax-el.” He says the word a few more times, putting emphasis on different letters. “Can I call you Axel for real?”

“Absolutely, you can.”

“Okay.” And then he sprints off toward the pond.

I thought I was fixing my heart up to give it to Raven, but I guess I’m giving a piece of it to the little boy laughing as he runs too.

And I wonder about his fuck-up of a dad. How could a man call his kid names? Worse, how could a man leave his own flesh and blood to fend for themselves? What would have happened if Raven hadn’t had an alarm? If both of them had been home?

And it worries me that the men who came to her home took her photograph. You only do that for one reason.

When you need to know someone on sight so you can harm them.

29

RAVEN

Ithink Hallie and I would have been friends.

That’s the conclusion I come to as I make my way to the kitchen after I’ve settled Fen in bed a few hours later. He was so tired he fell asleep almost immediately.

I love Hallie’s taste. The house decor was all her, according to Axel, and it’s perfect for this house and view. The wood and soft furnishings bring the outdoors in.

The kitchen layout she designed is a chef’s dream, and there’s a shelf of recipe books, many of which I used to own. A poster on the wall proclaimsKitchens are made for dancing, which makes me smile.

Making dinner was easy. When Wraith shops, he shops. The fridge was stuffed full of food. Meat. Vegetables. A whole lot of apples. There was also plenty of beer and sweet treats.

Who knew Wraith liked cake so much?

I settled on making cheese-and-ham-stuffed chicken breasts and sweet potato fries. Both Wraith and Fen devoured the food while discussing which animal should have been designed with wings. Fen argued dogs. Wraith was adamant it should be snakes, given they don’t have legs and have to crawl on theirbellies. I thought it would be funny to slap a pair of wings on a hippo or giraffe.

When I finally find Wraith after settling Fen in bed, he’s wearing a black T-shirt that stretches across his back and shows the width of his biceps. He loads the dishwasher as his head bobs in time to some old-school rock. I sayloads, but it’s a wonder anything in there gets properly cleaned given the way it’s all stacked together.

“You know, they say in every relationship, there’s one person who loads a dishwasher with the efficiency of an engineer and another who loads it like a raccoon on meth.”

Wraith glances over his shoulder at me and grins. “Are you saying my dishwasher loading is shit?”

I raise my hands in surrender. “Not saying anything. You keep loading it while I watch your butt in those jeans.”

Wraith’s smile changes from amused to soft in a way I can’t describe. “Gimme two minutes and you can watch my butt out of them.”

I hop onto the kitchen counter. There is no point offering to help. He has two water glasses left to load. He puts the tab in the dishwasher slot, then sets it to run. Once done, he comes over and steps between my legs.

I put my arms over his shoulders. “Thank you, for accepting Fen the way you have.”

He places his palms on my lower back and tugs me forward. “He’s a good kid. Even if he does ask wild questions.”

“He’s always been curious.”

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