Shattered King(25)
I keyed in the code, activating the security alarm, pulled off my shirt on the way to my room, and flung it on the back of the couch. Hand on my bedroom door, I pushed it open. The bed was empty.
A rough exhale blew past my lips and I jerked my head from side to side, cracking my neck, tension running thought me. I got it, I did, I understood that she needed time, probably a lot of it. But fuck, I wanted Lulu. Needed her. Just needed to hold her in my arms. Reassure myself that she was mine, that she was safe. Make her believe I would never let anything happen to her ever again.
I went to the spare room and pushed the door open. Shit. Total fucking gut punch.
Lulu was on her side, facing in. Josh's small body was pressed into her front. Her arm was wrapped around the kid, nose buried in his dark curls, like she'd fallen asleep breathing him in. I'd never seen a more beautiful sight in my life.
I'd meant what I said to her. Josh was mine. I didn't give a fuck who made him. He was part of Lulu and that was the only part that mattered to me. I only wished my own father had felt that way. Things could have turned out a lot different if he had. Instead, he'd seen me as the physical embodiment of the hell my mother had been though, of his own pain, of the destruction of his family. He'd looked at me every day and seen the man who had hurt his wife.
And I'd paid for it.
My hand automatically went to my forearm, to the pitted scars left from his cigarettes. There were scars all over me. But when I was a kid, the deepest had been the kind you couldn't see.
He'd nearly broken me.
I scrubbed my hands over my face. This whole fucked-up, fucking awful situation was history repeating itself. Lulu had no idea about that part of my past, the way I came into this world, and now wasn't the time to tell her. But if anyone knew what that little boy needed, it was me. And I was going to make sure he got it. That he never felt anything but wanted.
I knew how to do that. Raul had been one hell of a role model. He may have walked the wrong side of the law, but he'd also been more of a father to me than mine ever was. He'd shown me what a real man looked like. Had taught me that being someone's dad wasn't about the blood running through your veins. It was the person that stepped up when you needed them most. The person that gave a fuck.
Lulu and I used to talk about kids, how many we'd have, names, shit like that. I'd wanted that, all of it with Lulu, and fuck, seeing the two of them now, I realized I could have it.
God, I wanted her back in my bed.
That wouldn't happen tonight, though. She'd been separated from her son, and it'd been hard on both of them. She needed to be close to him right now.
But she was also used to it being just the two of them. That's not how it was going to be anymore. I'd lost three years, three years that I should have spent with the woman I loved. My woman had suffered, been violated, afraid, had brought a baby into this world all on her own. I should have been there with her, protecting her. That time had been taken from the both of us.
So yeah, I was also done waiting.
I felt restless, like I was coming out of my skin, being separated from her, even if it was only by a goddamn wall. I needed her back where she belonged, in my arms, underneath me.
But both Lulu and Josh needed to settle in. I had to give her that time. I just had to wait a little longer.
Then I was taking her back, all of her, and I was never letting go.
Lulu
I woke to the smell of coffee, quiet sounds coming from the kitchen.
Had Hunter come home last night? Or was Zeke still here? I hadn't known what to make of the man Hunter left with us. He'd been polite, quiet, extremely intense. He'd also been observant. When he wasn't watching us, with those dark-as-night eyes, he was prowling around the room, looking out windows, and watching the ground level door to Hunter's apartment through a camera on his phone.
This made me nervous as hell, to the point I was jumping out of my skin at every noise, every honk or shout from the street. In the end, I'd taken Josh to bed and buried my head under the covers.
Josh wriggled, huffed out a breath, and then went limp again. I waited a few minutes, but he was still out, cheeks rosy, thick dark lashes resting on his chubby cheeks. I leaned in, buried my nose in his soft hair, and kissed him good morning. Easing back the blankets, I climbed out. I was still bruised and had a few aches and pains, but nothing a couple ibuprofen couldn't fix. Outwardly, I'd be good as new in a couple of weeks.
Inwardly . . .
Well, I wasn't thinking about that. If I didn't think about it-what had happened to me, to Hunter, what Josh and I were doing here in his apartment-I'd be just fine. I was an expert at not thinking about things.
I grabbed some clothes from my bag. They'd been here when Hunter brought us to his place, after they'd released me from the hospital. But they'd been in his room.
I chose not to think about that either or why he'd had them put there.
When Hunter announced we were staying with him, I didn't fight it. What was the point? Not only had he made his mind up, one I knew from experience was not easy to change, but it was the safest place for us. Hunter wouldn't think twice about hurting someone to protect us. I wasn't so stubborn I'd put my son as risk just so I could guard my heart. Besides, my heart was already compromised. Irrevocably. It had been since the first moment I saw him.
It would make leaving harder, but I'd made up my mind. I'd run from Pierce, to protect myself and my son, to escape the toxic world he'd pulled me into. I didn't want any part of that world. Never again.
Hunter had never left it.
So, when the time came, I'd leave. It was for the best, for all of us.
Ignoring the way those thoughts churned me up inside, and satisfied Josh would stay asleep, I eased the door open and slipped out of the bedroom and into the bathroom next door. This was our first morning at Hunter's, and I wanted to make sure my son didn't have a chance to feel unsure about his new surroundings, or wake up alone again, wondering where I was. So, I needed to be quick.
The bathroom was big, bigger than any I'd had in my line-up of shitty apartments. It was also really really nice. White tile walls and floor, big glass-enclosed shower you could easily fit two people in. Nope, not going there. There was also a full bath, and a more than decent vanity. I stripped off my PJs, turned on the shower, and climbed in. I decided thinking about Hunter, naked, lathering up with his body wash-that I was currently using-wasn't something to dwell on either.
I quickly washed my hair, rinsed off, and stepped out.
I hung up my towel and dragged on black yoga pants and my worn AC/DC T-shirt. Finger combing my hair, I stared at myself in the mirror. I looked like shit. Bruised, still a little swollen. I'd looked like this once before, after Pierce was through with me that last time . . .
I quickly turned away, couldn't look at myself like this. I looked like a victim. I didn't want to be a fucking victim, and I sure as hell refused to feel like one anymore.
Josh was gone when I opened the bedroom door. I knew he couldn't have gone far, but panic seized me, firing through my veins. I jogged back toward the living area. The place was huge and open. The only other rooms were the bathroom and bedrooms. Hunter's room was larger, longer, and the wall formed a sort of hallway. The living room was set up directly in front of me, and across from that was the kitchen. I rounded the corner, the only corner in the vast space, and came to a screeching halt.
Josh stood in the kitchen in his green dinosaur PJs, his nighttime Pull-Ups hanging low on his little booty, making the pants sag at the back, with his thumb in his mouth. His head was tilted back, big blue eyes round and locked on Hunter.
Hunter was looking down at my son, and I watched as a grin lifted one side of his mouth. That grin made my belly do funny things. Then his big body folded smoothly, coming down, so he was crouching low, and his smile got bigger. "You hungry, Josh?"
My son continued to stare at him then, finally, he nodded, soft curls bouncing.
"Do you like hot chocolate?" Hunter asked.
More nodding, then a small smile lifted the corners of my baby's mouth around his thumb.
Hunter's chest expanded with his sudden, sharp, indrawn breath. And I watched, holding mine, as he reached out and brushed his thumb over the back of Josh's chubby hand. "I'll take that as a yes, my man."
Josh popped his thumb out, and the grin got bigger. "Pop Tarts."
Hunter broke into laughter, and I couldn't tear my eyes away. Hunter laughing was something to see. Something goddamn spectacular. I couldn't remember the last time I'd seen him laugh, the last time I'd heard that deep, sexy rumble.
"Is that what your mama feeds you?"
My face heated when Josh nodded his head again, the little traitor.
Josh moved closer, leaning against Hunter's knee.
Hunter brushed his hand over my son's hair. "I think I can do better. What about pancakes?"