Page 44 of These Jagged Edges

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” I reply, bracing myself, half expecting him to put cuffs on me right now.

Henry exhales sharply. “Vic’s going to have your head on a silver platter. You’d better hope you can fix this before he catches wind of it. Or worse,” he shudders, “before Louisiana.”

Vic didn’t kill me, but he arrived at the gym shortly after my brothers left. I was in my office debating on rather to give Evie time before going to see her or not. I didn’t want to make matters worse. When he kicked my door in and saw me slumped in my chair, he ordered me to stand up and take it like a man.

Make no mistake: I was used to getting hit. Hell, I did it for a living. But Vic was a different beast entirely. His fist felt like an anchor crashing down on me, and I was grateful the bastard only threw a few punches. Two to the face and one to the gut, each blow sending shockwaves through my body. As I crumpled to the ground, he looked down at me with disdain and spat, “Be a better fucking man,” before turning on his heel and walking away.

Chapter Eighteen

EVIE

After last weekI haven’t seen so much as a glimpse of Maddox. As I sit out on my steps today, I’m frustrated because I realize the second he left the storeroom that I haven't asked him how he was doing. He was the one sitting alone with a picture of his daughter. That thought alone has been festering and festering. Nagging me to go check on him.

Everyone has given me a wide berth to process which honestly, I'm glad for. The boys asked where Maddox has been, but I told them he's just been busy with work. Charlie looks at me like he knows I'm lying but so far, he's let it slide.

Vic just makes up any excuse to be over. From needing to winterize the pipes even though it's the middle of summer to fixing the shutters he just built last year. I know it kills him to see me like this and he doesn't want me to be alone. Honestly, his quiet presence is comforting.

"Mama, how long are you going to sit out here looking at Maddox's house?" Bash sits beside me on the step, sweaty from chasing Mellon Collie across the yard.

"I don't know buddy," I tell him honestly.

"Charlie’s still mad at him but I'm not."

I ruffle his hair. "Neither you nor your brother should be mad at him in the first place. Maddox is a good man."

"Just go hug him. That’s what I always do."

"It's that easy?" I chuckle.

"Works for me.” His brown eyes stare back at me like his answer is the most obvious in the world. I think it over a few seconds before responding. It isn’t that simple, but I know the ball is in my court.

"Do me a favor, go to Vic and tell him dinners on him tonight. I'll be right back."

"Yes ma'am!"

Taking life advice from my six year old, I find myself walking across the yard toward the house I've been staring at. I don't even take the first step when the door opens. Maddox stands shirtless, propped in the door much like Mercy the first time we met. He doesn't smile or even say hello, he stands transfixed as if the slightest movement will scare me off. Maybe it will. I quirk an eyebrow as I notice he’s sporting a black eye.

"What happened to your face?" I ask, fisting the bottom of my shirt.

"Vic," he says, nodding towards Vic’s house. I’m not surprised, Vic’s a hard ass and keeps his soft side reserved for me and the boys. While a small part of me is proud to have someone to stand up for me, I hate to see the evidence of it on his face no matter how deserved it was.

Maddox glances at me cautiously, his expression a mix of uncertainty and concern. “Do you want to come in?”

“I don’t know,” I admit, unable to meet his gaze, my heart pounding in my chest.

He bends down until our eyes lock, and for a moment, the world around us fades. “There she is,” he breathes, as if mypresence alone has lifted a tremendous weight from his shoulders. “Please, come in…if you want to.”

His sad green eyes are a mirror of emotions—pain etched deep within their depths, regret swirling like a storm, and the faintest flicker of hope that struggles to break free.

I’ve been inside Maddox's house before but very briefly. The outside is rustic and charming. It’s a farm style house with a wrap-around porch and a big swing on the end.

But the inside is unsettling. It’s very barebones on the inside, with no pictures or things that make a home a home. I figured it’s why he had spent most of the last three months at our house. Maddox's house is a cesspool of loneliness and despair. A playground for all your inner demons to come to play. The thought of sitting in there alone makes me shiver, but I also know ignoring the situation isn’t going to make it any better.

"Okay."

He holds the door open and ushers me in. I gasp as I walk in; Maddox has hung pictures, a blanket is folded neatly on the back of the couch, the boys have been over leaving various toys scattered in the living room, and there’s a huge flatscreen mounted to the wall. It looks like a home. Looking at the pictures, I notice there are pictures of three small boys with their arms around each other and huge smiles on their faces, I'm assuming that's Maddox, Henry, and Mercy, a picture of my boys grinning shirtless from ear to ear after helping build their bike ramp, a picture of the boys and myself after a basketball game with Vic, a picture of me and Maddox from my birthday dinner, I'm sitting on his lap, laughing, and he's looking at me with so much tenderness on his usually stoic face. I don’t know who took it, but I need to hug their neck. The center picture is a picture of a Maddox asleep with a beautiful baby with blonde curls sleeping on his chest.

He has brought life into his house, making it a home.

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