Sebastian had been in our lives for only a short amount of time, yet both kids were already used to him. Just thinking about the aftermath of him leaving made me want to hide in a closet. And I wasn’t sure that it was a good thing my kids were getting attached to a guy who was part of a motorcycle club.
I didn’t really know what the club did, but if they lent money to Jim, it couldn’t be all above board. My ex had been involved in a whole lot of stuff that wasn’t exactly legal.
I just wished I hadn’t been so oblivious when we first met. The signs were all there, but I’d ignored them. He used to disappear at random times, day or night. He never made a call when I was in the room, and when he answered his phone, he always went far enough away so I couldn’t hear him.
And there was always a lot of cash stuffed in random drawers and closets around the house. How did I never think that was weird? When they say love makes you blind, they really were speaking the truth. I was just glad I woke up, even if it was late.
Now the one thing I’d always been scared of had happened. Jim’s screwups were affecting our kids and putting their lives in danger. But I was determined to survive this latest bump in the road with only minor scratches.
Besides, if I could survive Lena’s poop explosions, I could handle anything.
Our escort walked us back home, and I started on dinner. The night went on as usual. The kids ate some of their food and threw the rest at each other. They flooded the bathroom, and I lost my patience and yelled at them for not listening. But at the end of the night, when we cuddled up under the blanket in Luca’s room and I read to them, I hardly remembered why I’d been angry.
“Okay, kidlets, lights out,” I said after the third book as Lena’s eyes were closing.
Since they shared a room, bedtime could be a challenge. But usually Lena was tired enough to fall asleep after humming a few songs. Luca sometimes stayed up for a little while and played with his toys. But since he was quiet enough to not wake Lena, I didn’t mind.
I was living in a tiny one–bedroom apartment when I became friends with Stella. When she offered up this place, I was desperate enough to accept, even though I knew they wouldn’t be making as much money with it as they could. I didn’t know what I would have done without them.
All my friends had done so much for me, there was no way I would ask anyone for money. I was a grown woman, and I needed to stand on my own two feet. What kind of example would I set for my kids if I let someone else bail me out all the time?
After dragging myself around the living area, picking up a few toys, I collapsed on the couch. At least all the small stuff was gone so nobody would step on anything. I wouldn’t lie and say the thought of leaving a few strategically placed Lego around the place didn’t cross my mind, but I doubted a few Lego injuries would deter Sebastian from staying on my couch.
I turned on the TV, noticing I’d made it just in time for my favorite show. Shake That Cake was a reality show about pastry chefs who were in competition to create the best instant cake mixes. The winner would get one hundred thousand dollars, and three of their recipes would be made into cake mixes and sold in supermarkets across the country.
One of the participants was a local baker, Rayna. She owned Sweet Dreams and made the best pastries in the state, and I hoped she would win. So far she’d made it to round three, and I loved every minute of watching her fight it out with the other contestants.
And there were a lot of disagreements. It was the perfect entertainment for my usually dull life. And once I started watching, it was impossible to stop.
Rayna told one of the participants not to call her creation a “cake shake.” Not knowing why she was offended, I was busy asking the Internet what in the world it was when Sebastian walked in.
My eyes went wide, and I choked on my own spit when I read the definition. First takeaway: I really have been living under a rock. Second takeaway: don’t ever miss Sebastian invading your space when he’s mad at you.
“I told you not to leave the house without me,” he thundered, taking up space in front of me.
I dropped my phone in my lap with a squeak and looked up, taking in his worn jeans that fit him just right, his thermal that was a little snug around the chest, the leather vest he was wearing over it, and finally his stubbled square jaw.
His usually full lips were now pressed into a tight line, and a muscle pulsed in his jaw. When I made it to his eyes—which I usually loved looking at—they pierced me with a glare.
I swallowed and sat up straighter. Screw him for standing over me, trying to intimidate me. I fisted my hands, the pain of my fingernails digging into my palms stopping me from jumping up and telling him where to stick his anger.
“I had to pick up my son,” I ground out. “You weren’t here. What should I have done? Leave him in preschool?”
“You could have told Gears to send one of the guys.”
I scoffed at his ridiculous suggestion. “They don’t know Luca. And he needs to be on the approved list. You can’t just show up and take a kid home. It’s not a pet shop.”
I refused to be the first
