“You’ve had a busy few days. You can rest for as long as you like. We have to go to Portland for your chemotherapy on Thursday, so you should rest while you can.”
“You’re really going to go?” he asks, rubbing his eye with his fist as he tries to wake up.
“What? Of course, I am. I’m never going to miss an appointment. I’m going to be there for you every single time.”
“You don’t have to feel like you to,” he whispers, his chin wobbling. “I don’t want to be a burden. I know you don’t know me. It’s okay if you don’t want me. No one does.” Fat tears roll down his face, and all the years he has been looking for a home, all the loneliness he has been feeling comes to the surface.
I sit up and cup his fragile face with my big hands. My thumbs wipe his tears away, and I smile. “I don’t feel obligated. You are not a burden. I’m sorry you had to feel that way before we finally found each other. I never would have made you feel like that. You’re my son. Mine. I want you here. You don’t ever have to question that. I’m never going to let you be alone, okay? You have me now.” I tug him to my chest, hug him tight as if I’m afraid he will float away and disappear like he never existed. I hold him like he’s going to die.
No matter how positive I am, he just might.
His shoulders shake as he wails, and he crawls onto my lap, holding me in return. I’m not sure how long we sit there, but he cries himself to sleep again. I wait a few minutes to make sure he is really asleep and try to lay him down, but his arms tighten around my neck.
A knock at the door sounds, and rocks fill my stomach when I think it’s Finley. I debate on ignoring it, but if it is one of the guys, they will knock louder and wake Dillon up. Hell, it will probably be awhile before they get used to the idea of having a kid around the house. I push myself up into a standing position, and Dillon wraps his legs around me, nestling his cheek into my shoulder. I keep my arms around his legs so he isn’t in danger of falling as I walk toward the door.
When I open it, I see a sleepy Maggie there wearing plain sweatpants and a shirt, holding a cup of coffee in her hand. A small sleepy grin tilts her lips. “I’m sorry.” She keeps her voice low. “I just want to make sure everything is okay?”
“Um, he just cried himself to sleep. He said he didn’t want to feel like a burden to me. It breaks my heart he feels that way. That’s the only thing that’s come up. Other than that, he has been sleeping since last night. Is that normal? Is it his cancer? Don’t kids wake up on three hours of sleep no matter what?” I ask, confused. I sound like I have no idea what I’m talking about. I need a parenting book for dummies.
“His treatments make him weaker. He is tired. He’s been fighting for a really long time and not just for his life, Mr. Campbell. He’s finally with his dad. Maybe he feels like he’s truly safe now.”
My arms involuntarily wrap tighter around him. “He is safe. Always.”
“I see that,” she says. “I’m happy to see him where he belongs. He is a good kid, smart, and craves affection if you can’t tell. He hasn’t had much of it.”
I want to kill whoever made my kid feel unwanted. I want a list of names. I’ll have Sebastian bring up a list of all foster homes, possibly Kendall’s whereabouts too, and maybe I’ll put the bitch out of her misery. Dillon will be better off with that parasite existing. Kendall will come back around for something, but it won’t be for Dillon. I have to do my best to protect him from her. She isn’t a good person. She always has wicked intentions.
The door across the hall opens, and Finley pauses in the middle of her doorway when she sees me and Maggie talking.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she hushes in a soft, silky tone.
“It’s okay.” Maggie gives me a questioning brow and holds out her hand to Finley. “I’m Maggie, Dillon’s social worker. Who are you? I thought I met everyone in the house.”
“Sorry, I’m Heaven’s cousin. I wasn’t supposed to come for a few more days, but I surprised him.” The lie slips easily off her tongue, like a damn professional who has lied to get by her entire life. I should be repulsed, but I’m thankful she hid how she really got here and why.
Unless Maggie sees the news.
Then I’m fucked because I’m harboring a damn murder suspect.
Finley is going to be my ruin.
And I have an inkling it will be in more ways than one.
“Well.” Maggie checks the time on her watch and grimaces. She tugs at the sleep shirt she is wearing and checks herself out, wincing again. “Okay, I need to go get ready. I have a video conference with my supervisor in twenty minutes.” She gives Finley a farewell grin, but her hand lands on my forearm and gives it a comforting squeeze before turning around and walking away.
Now I’m alone with Finley, and it’s awkward. She glances toward the ground, and I’m standing there with Dillon in my arms. She looks good. She’s showered and in a fresh change of clothes that look like they belong to Quinn. The tank top she’s wearing is a little too tight and stops just below her navel, showing a peek of skin. It’s obvious she doesn’t have bra on either. Her nipples are hard, tenting the white, nearly sheer material, and I have to make myself look away.
