Page 53 of Dirty Little Secret
Chapter 18
Kane
I couldn’t do it. I could not sit there and watch Zandra let those men treat her like—touch her like that. It made me sick. Literally.
That night, I barely got any sleep. The next day, I had trouble concentrating on anything. Playing some mindless video games with Fox was about all I could muster. Then Sunday came around, and my son decided to nag me until I was ready to scream and leave the house just to get away from him.
“Dad, please! I just want Mom to come over and eat dinner with us. Please!” he said the last word louder than the rest.
Cocking one brow as I looked at him, I cautioned him, “Do not start yelling, Fox. That will only get you into trouble. And I’ve already told you that I don’t think it’s a good time to start that yet. She’s got some growing up to do before she’s ready to become a mother.”
No one was more disappointed by that fact than I was. I had an itch that I knew only she could scratch. But my son came first, and that was that.
Putting down the controller, he got up off the sofa to look me in the eyes as he stood right in front of me. He took my controller right out of my hands. “Dad, we need to talk.”
The way he was acting almost made me want to laugh.Almost.“Son, there’s nothing to talk about. I’ve already told you that I’ll be making the decisions where she’s concerned. And you’ll just have to accept that fact. I’m not doing it to hurt anyone. I’m only doing it for your wellbeing.”
He put his hands on my legs as he leaned forward, as if it would help if he got closer to my face. “Dad, what if being around me helps her grow up? What if being around me will help her become a better mom? How can she learn to be one if she doesn’t have no kid to be one to?”
Valid point.
I sat there, with my son in my face, thinking about what he’d said. “But what if she and you get close and she runs off or something?”
“I don’t think she will,” came his childish answer.
Of course, I hadn’t told Fox what Zandra had done at the club that night. He didn’t need to know that about his mother. But I thought about how much easier things would be if he was older, more mature, and could understand things like that.
“Well, I don’t share your optimism.” Taking him by the shoulders, I moved him away from me then got up to go see about making something for lunch. “I’m going to make lunch. You want a ham and cheese sandwich?”
“No. I want my mom to come over, and I want us to cook outside and have a nice family day together. That’s what I want.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not gonna give up, Dad.”
“Your mother probably isn’t even up yet, Fox. So let’s eat some lunch, and maybe you’ll feel better once you get some food in you.” I almost wanted to give the kid a sedative, he was getting on my nerves so much. Not that I would ever do that, but damn!
“How do you know she’s not up?” he asked as he trailed along behind me as I went to the kitchen.
“Because she works late.” I thought about what she’d told me before. “She goes to sleep around five in the morning.”
“Isn’t that the time you usually get up to go to work, Dad?” he asked, seeming a little bit interested in what I had to say for once.
“Yes, it is.” I pushed one hand through my hair, shoving it back before washing my hands in the kitchen sink. “And she told me she usually gets up around two. So, what you want couldn’t even happen for about three more hours. Maybe more. She would have to get up, have a shower, and put on some makeup and clothes. That all takes time, Fox. Then she would have to come over here, and it would most likely be around five or so before she got here.”
“Okay, I can deal with that.” He took a seat at the table. “Can I have some chips instead of vegetables with the sandwich this time?”
“I don’t even buy chips.” I looked at him and wondered what the hell was going on inside of his brain. “You know that.”
“I do.” He nodded with a frown. “And you don’t buy snack cakes, candy, soda pops, or ice cream. You don’t buy cow’s milk, American cheese, or cake. You don’t let me stay up late, not even one night. You don’t let me …”
I stopped him, as I could see he was having himself a pity party. “Fox, just stop. I’m a doctor. I know what that crap does to a person. None of those things are good for grown people, much less children who need nutrients to grow big and strong. One day you’ll thank me, I promise.”
“Well, it won’t be today. Today I want potato chips with my sandwich. And I’d like the ham and cheese on white bread, instead of wheat bread for once too.” He seemed to be on a roll. “And I would like an ice-cold soda with that, instead of unsweetened almond milk. Things need to change, Dad.”
“Well, they’re not going to.” I set to work on making the sandwiches, cutting up the carrots and broccoli for the sides and then pouring us a couple of glasses of almond milk. “I’ll have you know that most children would love to have a father who made sure they ate healthy, son. And after lunch, you and I will take a walk to the park and back.”
With a huff, he picked up his sandwich and took a bite, looking at his plate as if it had dog crap on it, instead of homemade food. “Fine.”
Lately, ever since his mother had come into the picture, my son didn’t seem much like my son anymore. He’d never questioned the way we lived or the food we ate or drank, before meeting her.
As we ate in silence, sitting across the small table from each other, I began to think that Zandra coming into his life had been a very bad thing. A chain reaction had begun, and I didn’t like it at all.
