Page 13 of Wilder
Rich has chosen to look off into the distance, while Katrina has partially covered her face with one hand. “Are you saying you got no correspondence at all?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. It was fucking cruel, the way I was shoved aside by everyone I thought cared about me. Like I was a goddamn inconvenience.”
“Royal…” Katrina’s voice is tinged with heartache. “I don’t understand what happened. I want you to know that—” She stops, clearing her throat, her gaze darting to Davis, who’s just scrambled to his feet.
His face screwing into an ugly sneer, he mimics me, in a baby voice. “Aw, did no one care about you? You know what you did. You deserved all of it. And I still say, fuck you, Royal.” Stone-faced, Davis takes off around the side of the house. A moment later, his Mustang roars to life.
With a shake of her head, Katrina brings her attention back to me. “When we found someone we thought could help you, we reached out to them. We did what we could. You’re out early, so we assume it did help. I only wish we could have done more.”
“That was almost a year and a half ago.” My throat has grown thick. And I don’t know if I should continue, but fuck it. “I’d have aged out of the system by then, huh? The problem I’m having is that once I made a mistake, I wasn’t worthy of being your kid anymore. Not like we’d talked about. It would’ve been good if you had just fuckin’ told me instead of leaving me to wonder.”
A gasp from the doorway has my stomach plummeting. Echo stands there, shock apparent on her face. As our gazes connect, her teeth sink into her plump pink lip so hard the skin bleaches to a white color. Her eyes tell me everything. She feels responsible.Shit.Not what I’d intended. She wasn’t supposed to know about the potential adoption that got botched as a result of everything that transpired the night of the accident and afterward.
Katrina draws in a watery breath. “If I had thought you wanted to hear from us after your release, I’d have reached out. For what it’s worth, I’ve been watching your progress at KU. We both have.” She glances quickly at Rich while raising a hand to place over her heart, as if she’s trying to keep it from bursting out of her chest. “We didn’t forget about you. We could never.”
I swallow hard, unable to process what she’s saying to me because her current words don’t match up with her past actions. “I gotta go.” I spin on my heel and head toward the house. Echotakes a deep, gulping breath as I approach, but lets me pass by her to enter the house.
I come to a stop in the spacious kitchen where Beckham and Chase are at the table, hunkered down with a pile of colored Goldfish crackers. “Okay, now show me the red ones.”
Chase grins and slowly pushes red fish toward Beckham, who steals one and pops it into his mouth, making the little guy laugh. And a second later, he copies Beck’s idea, snatching up one for himself and shoving it into his mouth.
“Okay, now let’s count the rest. One. Two.”
“Tree!”
“That’s right, three. Four.” They keep going, and I don’t know what or how to feel, so I walk over and pull out a chair beside Chase. Clearing my throat, I put on a smiling face for my son that is fake as fuck, but fortunately, the only one who recognizes that fact is Beckham. Chase grins, his mouth full of a rainbow of fish that he hasn’t finished chewing, then picks one up, offering it to me.
Beckham watches me with concerned eyes. I don’t know how much he heard outside, but he definitely knows something is up. I give him an almost imperceptible nod. I’ll be okay. I just need a minute. Taking Chase’s little wrist so he can’t escape, I lean in and let him put the fish into my mouth.
“Woyal eat fishy!”
I chuckle. “Yep. You know what else Royal eats?”
He tilts his head to the side. He’s so fuckin’ cute when he’s confused.
“Fingers.” And then I dive in, pretending I’m going to gobble up his fingers.
The happy screeches he’s making and the smile on his face… it makes up for a lot and loosens the knot that’d tied itself up in my chest, making it hard to breathe.
The door swings open again, and Wilder steps inside with Echo. Both of them take a moment to study the current situation.
“No eat my fingas, Woyal!” The kid is a quick learner, I let him put another cracker into my mouth, then quickly pulls his hand away, giggling.
Wilder’s dark eyes narrow, and he juts his chin in my direction as if to silently ask if I’m good.
I’ve only barely nodded when Echo comes up on my side, wrapping her arms around my neck and putting her lips near my ear. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
I turn my head, looking deep into her vibrant green eyes as I cup her cheek. “Not your fault, you hear me?”
“But—”
“No, Echo. I won’t allow you to keep blaming yourself for sh—” I glance cautiously at Chase who is stuffing a cracker into his mouth and watching us with trusting, wide eyes and listening with innocent not-quite three-year-old ears. I clear my throat and let our gazes lock again. “Stop blaming yourself for things that were never your fault.”
SIX
WILDER
It’slate morning by the time we get our asses in gear and head for the station. I peer into the rearview, watching Royal idly flick his tongue over the split in his lip put there by Davis this morning. Royal had definitely won in the end, so it’s unfortunate he’s got this reminder of his former best friend’s asshole antics until the skin heals.
