Page 121 of Like An Animal
I slip out of the room and search him out, but when I make it to Jeremy’s office, I stop. Pushing open the door, my eyes flash to the wall of mason jars full of eyeballs and I groan.
I told him he needed to move them to the compound so we don’t run the chance of Charlotte stumbling upon them. When I first saw them, I was horrified. Not because they existed at all since I already knew he removed his victim’s eyeballs–Isaac’s eyes were in there, too–but because of how shocking the display was.
I guess I’ll need to take care of it myself. Tomorrow, I’ll make sure to box them up and take them to the compound myself.
Closing the door, I continue on my search for my husband but when I make it to the nursery, I relax.
Jeremy is passed out in the rocking chair with one of our boys laying against each shoulder. A smile tugs against my lips as I walk into the room.
My golden retriever, Val, named after my favorite actor, Val Kilmer, sleeps next to Jeremy. At first my husband did not like my dog, but he has slowly grown on him. Now, he even cuddles the sweet pooch when we watch movies on the projector in bed.
However, nothing warms my heart quite like when me and the kiddos come home from a day out with Cheryl to find Jeremy passed out on the sofa with Val on top of him.
Suddenly, Jeremy’s head pops up, sleepiness clear on his face.
“Hey,” I say and he smirks.
“Hey. They woke up and I didn’t want them to ruin your beauty sleep,” he mutters as I gently take Max from his arms, resting his little head on my shoulder. Val pops up, panting up at me, wagging his fluffy tail. Reaching down, I pat him on the head.
“You don’t have to get up with them every night, Jer. I can sometimes, too.”
He slowly shakes his head as he stands up, before pulling me into his free arm. “I will never make you get up and tend to them when I am perfectly capable of doing it. You barely sleep as is and… I missed out on all of Charlotte’s early years. I’m just happy to be included in theirs.”
He’s not wrong. Since The Fathers were dealt with, I have had constant night terrors and insomnia. It’s just a result of the trauma and my brain being on high alert.
This is much better than the alternative.
“You know I love you, right?” I ask before he gives me a soft kiss.
“It wouldn’t hurt for you to tell me again.”
I snicker under my breath before he presses another kiss to my forehead.
“Now, let’s put these two to bed. Then, we can go to our room and make another one.”
THE END…
