Page 94 of Mending Scars

Kamden and I had done a number on Bryce, breaking four of his ribs, his jaw, and rupturing his spleen. I probably would’ve beat him to death if I hadn’t been so desperate to find Kaiya.

Kaiya had broken down once the police finally left the hospital. Bryce had been one of her only friends, and what he had done hurt her deeply. But I knew she’d recover; my Warrior always did.

I carried Hayden in his car seat as I helped Kaiya inside the house. There were still stacks of boxes in every room that needed to be unpacked, and Hayden’s room was filled with everything he needed and more.

I set down his carrier and all of Kaiya’s bags, then led her to our bedroom. She was exhausted and had been fighting sleep to spend as much time with Hayden as possible, but now she was going to rest whether she liked it or not.

After carefully helping her get into bed, I covered her with the blankets before kissing her forehead. “You need to rest, Warrior.”

“I don’t want to rest—I need to take care of Hayden,” she argued stubbornly, throwing the blankets and sitting up in bed.

I shook my head and chuckled. “I’ll take care of Hayden—you sleep.”

She yawned but still resisted. “But—”

“No buts. You’ve barely slept since he was born.”

Sighing in defeat, she gingerly laid back on the bed. “Fine. But wake me up to feed him in two hours.”

I wasn’t planning to wake her up. Kaiya had already pumped some breast milk at the hospital, so I could feed Hayden myself. “Okay. Now get some sleep,” I said as I backed toward the door.

She yawned again and closed her eyes. “I love you.”

A smile tugged at my lips. I wish she knew how much I loved her, how much she and our son meant to me. They owned my whole fucking heart. “I love you, too.”

I went back to the living room to check on Hayden. He was fast asleep in his car seat, so I decided to unpack some more of our things while he and Kaiya slept. We’d managed to get most of our large furniture in, but hadn’t planned on Hayden coming early, so we weren’t fully moved in yet.

After about an hour or so, Hayden started crying. Kaiya was still sleeping, so I grabbed a bottle of breast milk from the fridge and put it in some hot water to warm up before taking Hayden out of his carrier.

I was so fucking nervous holding him. He seemed so small and fragile, especially in my bulky arms. I was afraid I would break him, so I tried to be as gentle as possible whenever I handled him.

Laying him against my chest, I held his head steady as I went back to the kitchen to check if his bottle was ready. His cries had died down to a whimper now that I held him, but the sound still made me anxious, definitely something that would take getting used to.

I checked the temperature of the milk, but it was still too cold. I set it back in the water and patted Hayden on the back as I waited a few more minutes. I was thankful that the nurses in the maternity ward had shown us how to prepare Hayden’s bottles and feed him because I would’ve been lost otherwise.

When the bottle was ready, I grabbed it and carefully carried Hayden to the bedroom. Kaiya had made me move the rocking chair from the nursery a couple of weeks ago because she planned to keep Hayden in our room for a few months.

I sat down with the speed of a turtle and cautiously positioned Hayden in my arms so that I could feed him. I started to rock him once he started eating, and I relaxed a little. Just like with his mom, I hated hearing him cry, and would do anything to fix what was causing it.

My eyes ran over his tiny form in my large, inked arms. So out of place, yet right where he belonged. He was perfect. His mom was perfect.

I looked up at Kaiya sleeping in our bed and smiled. I would’ve never guessed in a million years that we’d be where we are now. But I wouldn’t change it for anything. Life had a way of sorting itself out, and every detour or obstacle was there for a purpose, getting us to where we needed to be. And I was exactly where I needed to be.

Four Years Later…

Laying on the gym mat, propped up on my elbows, I watched Ryker and Hayden over by the punching bag. Ryker was trying to teach Hayden some basic punches, even though he had just turned four and had a short attention span.

Ryker lowered the bag all the way down so Hayden could reach it. He squatted next to our son and put his hands up in front of his face. “Put your hands up like this—always protect your face. Don’t let anyone hit you.”

Hayden put up his hands. They looked huge compared to his head with the gloves that Ryker had just bought him for his birthday. “Like this, Daddy?”

Ryker’s mouth spread in a huge, proud grin, lighting up his whole face. “Yeah, just like that.” He mussed Hayden’s hair. “Now, hit the bag with your fist like this.”

Ryker modeled a few punches that Hayden attempted to copy. I couldn’t stop the smile that formed as I watched them.Hayden was the spitting image of Ryker, with the same brown hair and eyes. It was amazing how much they looked alike.

My two boys.

Ryker glanced over at me, giving me that look that still knotted my stomach. His love for me was evident all over his face, just like it was when he looked at our son.

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