Page 141 of False Start

There were things I would have said. Feelings I would have reassured him of.

I would have told him I love him.

No hints, no alluding to it. Just three simple words.

And I would have had some sort of goodbye, that last hug to sustain me while he figured his shit out.

“You know what you need? You need to go get a sniff of Lilith and Jordan’s new baby. He’ll cheer you up,” Milton said.

I raised my head and stared down at him. “You’ve seen him?”

“Sure have,” he said, gesturing with his cup. “Lilith was bragging on you and how you helped her through having him. I’m kind of surprised you haven’t seen him yet since you were there when he came into this crazy world.”

I did do that. So, I had rights, right?

At least some sort of honorary thing. What did you call someone who did that anyway? Honorary aunt?

I could bring him a baby present, but none of that practical stuff. I could bring him something frivolous—a puppy!

Actually, a puppy probably wasn’t what they needed right now, but it was a farm, and it was sorely lacking a dog.

Okay, so better than a rattle and not as awesome as a dog…

Kitten…but again, something that needed to be kept alive.

I closed my eyes and time sucked me back to when Cain delivered that little boy and the stricken anguish on his face in the quiet stillness after. Brief, but breathtaking, the look slid into gritty determination as he worked, and a flood of sweet relief when he heard that first wail.

I blinked open my eyes, tears burning again, but I knew just the thing.

I slid my phone out of my pocket, made sure Scooter wasn’t watching because he’d been ornery lately and no one needed more of that shit, and dialed Rockabilly’s.

“Yo,” Jackson answered.

“That’s how you answer the phone?”

“It’s early. You should be more surprised I’m awake to answer the phone.”

“Have you heard from him?” I asked, trying not to hold my breath while I waited for the likely answer.

“No,” he said quietly. “I wish I had a better answer for you, Maze.”

Knowing what he’d say didn’t make his answer hurt any less. “Any chance you can do me a favor?”

“Anything,” he said, his voice remarkably swift for such a laid-back guy.

“You can make skates, right?”

“Yeaaaahhhhh,” he said, drawing out the word.

“Can you make skates for say…a two-year-old?”

“Sure.”

“With flames on the side?”

“I see where you’re going with this,” he said, his voice perking right up at the idea. “You know what, I can. I’ll get started now and call you when they’re done.”

This was gonna be great…I just wished I asked him the timeline because I’d be watching the clock all day now.

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