Page 90 of Stolen Fate

Jace

I threwmy glass against the wall, watching with satisfaction as it shattered against the wall.

Thank God I had the office soundproofed, as I had no doubt Evelyn wasn’t asleep, even if she had retired to her room hours before.

A part of me wanted to go to her, to let the comfort of her presence help ease some of the residual anger I was feeling at Camila for daring to show up in my house and for scaring my kid, but I didn’t want Evelyn to see me angry.

I didn’t want her to think I had a problem controlling my anger, because that wasn’t me anymore. I wasn’t the hot-headed boy I’d once been.

I spent the majority of my thirty-four years of life trying to keep my emotions under control, and I had thought I had a good handle on it, only Camila had always managed to bring out all of my ugly sides.

Things hadn’t always been good for me growing up. My emotions, especially my anger, had gotten me into more trouble than I cared to admit. Mostly, it had to do with the way I grew up than anything else. I loved my parents, I really did, but they weren’t fit to be caregivers. And had I not had my grandmother to take me in when I had been an angry rebellious teen, I imagined my life would have taken another direction.

I thought I had done things differently for Elliot.

That I didn’t have to be like my parents. That even though I wasn’t necessarily a good man, I could be a good dad. And it was as if all of my failures were shoved into my face today, to remind me that I hadn’t protected Elliot the way I should have.

Camila had been taken into custody, though I doubted they would actually hold her long. The only thing I got her on was trespassing, and they might be able to add a drug charge, but I knew her godmother would do whatever it took to make sure Camila got out unscathed.

Marie had proven that time and time again—the last time she did something for Camila, Elliot was born.

I grabbed a seat in my office chair and stared at the wall, watching as the remaining droplets of a 500-dollar scotch rolled down the wall.

There was nothing more I could do but be there for Elliot, should he have any questions about seeing Camila again, though I wasn’t sure he would ask, considering how quiet he had been after I got home.

My little boy had never been quiet, except for the times when he was tired, and even then, he still found words to say. Yet he hadn’t said much of anything all evening.

He had stayed close to mine and Evelyn’s sides. I tried not to leave any room between the three of us, since Elliot looked as if he would break down if either one of us left his sight for longer than a few seconds.

The last time he had been like this was when Camila left him alone with that nanny. It had taken months before he actually felt secure enough to let me leave his sight for more than a few hours a day.

Things had been tough and, for a while, I had even taken him to work with me when I hadn’t been able to get my work done at home. I knew my parents didn’t know why I was coddling him so much, and I knew had the situation been reversed, or had I been in Elliot’s position when I was little, my parents wouldn’t have done it.

I shook the thoughts away and stood up.

I knew I should clean up the mess I made, but I had neither the energy nor the motivation to do it. And besides, I was the only one ever in my office. Elliot wouldn’t go in here by himself, and I would make sure all the glass was cleaned up before he did.

Slowly, wearily, I walked upstairs. I didn’t head to my room, though. I was tired, but it was a restless sort of tired, and I doubted I would be getting any sleep tonight. So instead, I went to Elliot’s room. There were nights when I couldn’t sleep that I would spend in Elliot’s room and watch him sleep. I would focus on each breath he took, watch the way his chest moved up and down on each soft inhale and exhale, and count each one as a blessing I would never take for granted.

Never again.

I opened the door to his room and quietly walked inside. But Elliot wasn’t in bed. The bedsheets were crumpled, which told me he had spent some time here, but he wasn’t anymore.

Panic seized my chest, making it hard to breathe, and I had to remind myself to calm down.

He wasn’t taken away from me. I knew he was somewhere in the house, because Elliot didn’t go outside unless someone was with him.

I rushed to my room, thinking I might find him there.

He sometimes spent his nights with me when he couldn’t sleep by himself after a nightmare.

But my room was empty, the bed still made from this morning.

“Fuck,” I said to myself in whisper. He was here somewhere.

I moved to Evelyn’s room. If he wasn’t there, then I could panic. But sure enough, when I opened the door, I found two small forms huddling close together in the center of the bed.

I took in a huge breath of relief and took in their sight.

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