Page 357 of Branded
“You are not here,” I said, pulling my cell out of my pocket. “Please tell me that you’re not dumb enough to actually be here.”
More anger transforming her once-pretty face.
Her lips parted. “You?—”
“Mom?”
Fuck.
But before I could ask someone to occupy Ethan and to get him away from the psycho that was Chelsea showing up unwelcome on my porch—after having shown up unwelcome and getting rebuffed on various occasions since I’d unleashed the power of my attorney and the Breakers’ security team on her, and still not getting one fucking clue—Jules’s son was there, trying to squeeze past me and get to his mom.
“Hey, buddy,” I said, holding Ethan back and carefully tucking Jules behind me. “This is an adult conversation. Can you go with Nonna JoJo and pick out the movie we’re going to watch tonight?”
A long look, holding my eyes.
Then that stare shifting to Chelsea’s, and I bit back a curse when Ethan seemed to pick up on too much. His body went stiff, and he grabbed his mom’s hand, holding it tightly, silently telling me he wasn’t going anywhere.
Okay, normally, that would be extremely touching, Ethan standing by his mom, protecting her. But it couldn’t happen in this situation. I needed to make sure that Ethan could be a five-year-old, instead of the kid standing in front of me with old eyes and a tight expression.
“Eth?” I said as my dad stepped up next to me, correctly assessing the situation in a few seconds and blocking Chelsea’s view of Jules as I crouched in front of Ethan. “I’ve got this,” I said softly, resting me hands on Ethan’s shoulders and holding the boy’s gaze. “I love your mom, and I love you, and I won’t let anything happen to either of you. I promise.”
Ethan’s eyes went wide, his mouth falling open.
“And promises are meant for keeping, right?”
Ethan looked down, mouth closing, free hand tightening into a fist, and it took everything in me to wait it out, to shut up and wait, to not blabber the fuck on and beg this kid to trust me.
Then he was releasing his mom’s hand and wrapping both arms around my neck. “Yes,” he whispered. “Promises are meant for keeping.”
“Exactly, bud. Now,” I said, nudging Ethan toward my mom, “can you go with Nonna JoJo and trust me to have this?”
A nod. Ethan turning away.
Pausing. “Cas?”
“Yeah, bud?”
“I love you, too.”
Fuck.
That hit hard.
But what hit harder was that the first time Ethan and I shared that was on the front porch of my house while my dad was playing interference with fucking Chelsea.
“Movie, yeah?” I said quietly.
A nod and then Ethan was gone, my mom corralling him into the family room.
My siblings, though, they were gathered around the front door and spilling out onto the porch. A wall of Castillos.
“You have a son?” Chelsea snapped.
“Yeah,” I said, straightening and curling an arm around Julie’s shoulders, tucking her close. It was decided. Ethan was mine, same as Jules was. Biology didn’t matter in this, and frankly, Chelsea wasn’t owed any further explanation.
Chelsea froze. Then, “You have a son with her?”
Which was the point that my dad lost patience.
