Page 118 of Wildest Dreams

“Dylan.” Tucker stared at me, his expression drenched with horror. “Jesus, I’m capable of taking care of my ki—” His eyes widened, and he quickly corrected himself. “Of a kid for less than half an hour. I used to babysit my sister’s kids all the time. You were there with me.”

He was right. And they’d all survived, as far as I was aware.

I kissed Grav goodbye and scurried away before I could change my mind. My instincts screamed at me that this was the wrong thing to do, but I forced myself to ignore them. I had to give this a chance, for Gravity’s sake.

I finished my trip to the grocery store at record speed. I spoke to Kieran on the phone all throughout while he encouraged me to breathe and not have a public panic attack. I forgot a lot of things on my shopping list and ran back home.

As soon as I stepped out of the elevator on my floor, I heard the screams from the apartment.

I bolted there, discarding my shopping bags on the floor. My hands shook as I unlocked the apartment door and rushed inside. I found Gravity on the couch crying hysterically, her face, hair, and clothes full of vomit and Tucker’s shirt and pants covered in puke.

“Thank fuck you’re here.” Tucker hurried my way, gesturing to his stained clothes. “She freaking puked as soon as you left the building. Jesus Christ, it’s everywhere! My clothes, my hair…”

I shoved him out of my path to Gravity, picked her up, and held her close to comfort her. She didn’t usually cry this badly, if at all, when she vomited.

“Mommy, he s-started shouting.” She hiccupped, clinging onto me with desperate little fingers. “I-I-I only did it by accident. It just came out!” She hung her big eyes at me apologetically. “Am I in trouble?”

No, but he is for making you feel this way.

“Honey! Not at all. You don’t have to explain yourself. People vomit. It happens all the time. Everything is okay.” I carried her to the main bathroom, Tucker chasing after me.

“Is he mad at me?” Gravity looked broken as, for the second time today, I peeled off her soiled clothes and filled the bath.

I don’t know and I don’t care, I wanted to say. That asshole doesn’t deserve you.

“No, baby, of course not.” I kissed her forehead. It was burning again. I missed Rhyland. Rhyland would take charge. Clean the couch. Help out. Crack a joke to lighten the mood. “He was just a little surprised. Uncle Tucker doesn’t spend a lot of time with children.”

“He pushed me,” she whispered into my neck, clinging tighter to me.

My whole body went rigid and cold. I froze.

“I hurt my head, Mommy.”

My fingers immediately shot to her head, and I began to gently search it for blood or bruises. I found a small bump on the right side of her skull. She hissed when I touched it.

“There, Mommy. There.”

I was going to kill him.

God help me, I needed someone to intervene. Because I really was going to kill him.

“Dyl, can you help me here?” Tucker leaned against the bathroom door, arms and ankles crossed, oblivious to the fact that I was about to slam a steak knife between his eyes. He was flicking chicken nugget pieces from his shirt, sneering. “I look a mess.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” I muttered, tossing yellow rubber ducks and pink boats into the bathtub. I needed to keep it cool. I couldn’t fall apart in front of Gravity. First, I’d deal with this. Then I’d deal with him.

“Can I take a shower here?”

“No,” I said coldly, picking half-digested rice and chicken nuggets from my daughter’s dark curls.

“Dude, what am I supposed to do?” he groused. “I can’t go out of here like this!”

“Figure it out.”

“It stinks.” He sounded just about ready to cry. “And I—”

“I don’t care.” I twisted around sharply, snapping at him. I barely managed to keep my voice contained, and even that was only for Gravity’s sake. “I really could not care less, Tucker. I don’t think you understand. This isn’t about you. All of this”—I gestured to the room—“was never about us. It’s about—”

The main door opened, and Rhyland’s voice filled the room. “Little stinker? Cosmos?”

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