Page 110 of Wicked Truths

My stomach tightens with pure horror. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine.” He shrugs. “Is there breakfast? I’m starving.”

I stand up, offering him a hand.

I spent a lot of time while I was growing up wondering why my mother couldn’t love me. It made me fearful that I wouldn’t be a decent parent. Kenton links his small fingers in mine, and I realize that I do have a maternal instinct.

My mom might not have been able to be the parent I needed, but that was because of her own trauma.

Trauma that I don’t possess.

My hand tightens around Kenton’s.

It’s clear.

He needs someone to look out for and protect him.

Somebody better hold me back when that bus arrives this afternoon.

* * *

“Let me guess?” Jamen says, kicking his boots up on the coffee table in our apartment. “You can’t sign a new contract because I’m going to be a grandpa.”

Jamen stepped back from fully running Ruined Records, but the industry is in his blood. I doubt he’ll ever retire one hundred percent, but he travels, scouts bands, and pretends to be retired.

Marcus snorts, flipping Jamen off with both hands. “Is my sister knocked up again?”

“Fuck if I know,” Jamen says. “But it seemed important, so someone tell me why I’m here.”

“We’re going to need to stick around New York for the next three to nine months,” I say as firmly as I can manage.

“Okay,” Jamen says slowly.

“Good,” I agree without elaborating.

I think we’re all lucky I didn’t get arrested after what happened to Kenton.

I was almost up the steps of the bus when Hawk caught me around the middle. He passed me off to Marcus and had his own moment getting Kenton settled.

Hawk made sure they understand Kenton has someone watching out for him now, and he did it without ending up in handcuffs. Which might have been more efficient than what I was daydreaming of doing.

“We are going to be adding to the family if all goes well,” Hawk says, leaning forward in his chair. “We’d love it if you’d give a character statement at our adoption hearing and maybe write a letter to the court on our behalf.”

“No fucking way.” Jamen laughs, shaking his head. “I am going to be a grandpa again. You assholes had me nervous. I thought someone offered you a better contract.”

* * *

Tears stream down my face as an embarrassing sob rattles in my chest. It’s taken nearly eleven months, including three months of surprise home visits. We’ve dumped thousands of dollars into lawyer fees. We had a quick courthouse wedding that seemed much less important than actually reaching this moment.

“You’re kind of snotting in my hair,” Kenton says, patting my arm awkwardly.

“Old people are so embarrassing,” Declan Clark says, waving a hand for Kenton to come over to him and the other kids.

I stand up, but I’m all wobbly.

“I love you, little one.” Hawk pulls me into his chest as I try to get ahold of my emotions.

“I thought they were going to put it off again,” I choke out.

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