Be My Hero(65)

"The Rojas got sick. I had to hire someone else. Why should this upset  you? Are you saying you suddenly care what happens to him, after you  fucking left him alone? It was hours before I found him that day. Jesus,  Tristy, how could you do that? He's not alone now, is he? Is he there  with you? Is he okay?"

"He's fine," she muttered dismissively, "and I still think you're lying.  I think she's a hell of a lot more than just the babysitter."

I hissed out a curse and rubbed at a spot on the center of my forehead  that was beginning to ache. "Why are we even talking about this? Are you  telling me you fucking took Julian away from me because of Eva?"

Eva gasped and set her hand against her heart. Tears immediately welled  in her eyes. I reached out and grabbed her fingers hard, letting her  know she'd done absolutely nothing wrong.

"She told me she was your Tinker Bell."

Except maybe that.

Damn it. I squeezed my eyes closed.

I didn't let go of Eva's hand though. All she'd done was tell Tris the  truth. I couldn't fault her for that. Tristy would've just come up with  some other reason to overreact. She always did.

"Yeah," I said, letting go of Eva so I could climb off the bed and pace  the room. "Yes, she is. So what? How does that affect anything? You  left."

She sniffed. "So, it's true, then? You found her. You really found the girl that witch told you was your one true love?"

My throat went dry. Why I hated talking about this with Tristy, I don't know why, but I did. I detested it.

With a nod, I gave the rusty answer. "Yes. I did."

Her sniffles turned into full-fledged sobs. "So, it's all going to come  true. You're going to go off and live with her in your perfect little  happily ever after in your perfect fucking house with the green lawn.  And I'm going to die, young and alone."

"Damn it, you're not going to die young and alone. Not when I'm here for  you. I've always been here for you. You're the oldest friend I have,  and I will take care of you and Julian no matter what. Just tell me  where you are, and I'll come take care of you."

She didn't hear anything I said, though. "I always thought you'd grow to  love me . . . the way you loved her. I thought . . . I thought we'd  stay married, and you'd finally realize how much we belong together.  We've already been through everything. We know each other inside and  out. How could she fucking come along and take you away from me?"

"Tristy, please don't do this. You need help. Just . . . let me come help you."

"I don't want to be your fucking charity case anymore. I want . . . I want you to look at me and just . . . love me already."

"I do," I said, my voice going hoarse and my entire chest tightening  with fear. I didn't want to lie to her, but I absolutely could not say  anything to cause her to hang up without telling me where she was. "Do  you think I'd put up with so much shit from you all these years if I  didn't love you at all? Who was always there after he raped you? Who  carried you into the bathroom and washed you up? Who beat up anyone who  ever hurt you? Who took you in when you were three months pregnant? Who  made every fucking effort to help you get over your addiction? How can  you even think I don't love you?" Just because I would never love her  the way she wanted me to, didn't mean I didn't care.         

     



 

I glanced at Eva, wondering what she was thinking as I expressed my  feelings to another woman. Tears poured down her face, making me feel  like shit. Glancing away because I couldn't handle watching her cry, I  held out my hand and was rewarded when she took my fingers, squeezing  supportively.

"I love you, Tris," I said, swallowing down the acid in my throat as I  spoke the words, all the while pulling Eva close and burying my face in  her neck. "Now, please . . . please, please just tell me how to get to  you."

"I . . . " She paused to cough. "I'm in an abandoned underpass by the train station."

"Okay, good. Good. I'll be right there. Don't go anywhere. I'll be right  there." It took everything I had not to ask about Julian again, but I  didn't want to do anything else to upset her and cause her to leave  before I arrived.

"Hurry," she slurred. "I'm getting tired."

"I will. I'll be right there." I hung up and immediately whirled to Eva. "I'm sorry."

She blinked, looking startled. "For what? You got her to tell you where she was."

Yes, yes, I had. And it'd taken out a chunk of my soul to do it.

Yanking open my dresser drawer, I pulled out the first shirt I saw. "But  I hated that I had to . . . that I had to say all that . . . in front  of you."

Eva reached forward, her fingers trembling as she helped me dress.  "Pick, we don't have time for this. I understand. Just . . . bring back  our boy."

I paused and looked at her. "You know you can't come." It wasn't a  question, but a startled revelation. I had assumed she'd fight to go  with me. She'd try to call Mrs. Rojas or Reese over to watch Skylar so  she could be right there when I saw Julian again. But that couldn't  happen. It'd only set Tristy off, and Eva knew it as much as I did.

Finding some jeans for me, she bent in front of me and held them open  for me to step into. More love and respect surged inside me. Setting my  hand on her head, I put my first foot into the denim and then the  second.

"I love you so much, Tink."

She yanked the jeans up my legs. "I know." Her voice was a little  breathless as she rushed to zip me. "I love you too." Her smile trembled  and tears still welled, but when she looked at me, that was all I  needed-her gaze on me.

"I gotta go."

She nodded, but when I started to turn away to fetch my shoes, she  grabbed my shirt and yanked me back. "Wait." When I met her gaze, she  captured my face in her hands. "You're the best man I've ever met,  Patrick Ryan. Thank you for choosing me."

I kissed her hard. "I'll always choose you."



***



It took me twenty minutes to make it to the train station, but finding  the overpass Tristy had been talking about was another matter entirely.  There were so many railway lines and viaducts I didn't even know where  to start. Parking at the station, I started at the closest, jogging to  it on foot and calling out Tristy's name. I rustled up a homeless bum,  but it wasn't Tristy or Julian. He began to snap at me until he took in  my metal and tattoos. Then he backed off and left me alone.

I tried the next overpass, winded by the time I reached it. Still no  luck. Working in a circle around the train depot, I kept searching.

About an hour into my hunt, I heard police sirens.

My stomach knotted into one big painful bundle as a bad feeling hit me  hard. I tore off in that direction, because it came within a half mile  from the train station.

They already had barricades up and were blocking off a crowd by the time  I made it there. Breathing hard from my sprint, I nudged my way to the  front where a cop was commanding everyone to clear out.

When I heard a baby crying up where all the red and blue lights were  flashing, I panicked. It sounded like Julian's wail. Hurdling one of the  police lines, I started that way but a cop shouted at me.

"Hey!" He grabbed my arm.

"I think that's my baby." I pointed and slowed a little but I kept  walking in the direction of all the commotions of cop cars and  ambulances. "My wife took off a couple days ago with my son, and I think  she's somewhere around here. I have to see if that's my baby."

"Okay, fine. All right, kid. Just calm down. You stay here, and I'll  find out if that's your son." He pointed at me warningly, but as soon as  he turned away to stride off, I followed him. Another police officer  noticed us approaching. When I caught his eye, his widened, and we both  recognized each other at the same moment.

The nicer cop who'd been at my apartment for all the complaints pointed in my direction. "Hey, there's the father."

Oh, God.

Realizing I'd found Julian, I surged forward, scanning frantically. "Where is he? Is he okay?"         

     



 

"Right here," someone answered. I turned to find a male cop, standing at  the opened doors of an ambulance, trying to hold a hysterical Julian.  The blanket wrapped around him was shredded and dirty enough it could've  been dragged on the ground for the past three days. But what caused  tears to prick my eyes was the dirt smeared all over my son and the  swollen, bruised cuts slashed across his forehead.

"Oh, fuck." My knees buckled once, but I kept running until I was with  him and taking him out of the other man's hands. "My boy. My little  boy."

I turned him to press his chest against mine as he liked to be held best  when he was upset, and I immediately started cooing in his ear. "It's  okay, buddy. I'm here. I'm here now. It's okay, Julian. My little  Fighter."