Page 46 of Devil's Hour
“Candi,” Royce called out as he walked through the dining room toward the front of the house. A Disney cartoon played on the television in the empty living room. Toys, shoes, and a variety of clothes were strewn all over the place. Empty cups and dirty plates lined the coffee table and the matching end tables bracketing the sofa, and dust covered any bare spots. It looked like a hurricane had gone through it. Their house had always beenlived in, but this was extreme.
From above, he could hear Candi speaking softly to the boys, which meant she probably had just laid Bailey down in her crib. With Candi working twelve-hour shifts at least three times a week, their routine and schedules were in chaos. He was no fucking expert, but he knew kids needed structure. With her world spinning out of control, Candi needed it too, whether she realized it or not. She’d been too damned determined to prove she could do it alone and not accept more help than she deemed necessary, which meant she wasn’t getting enough sleep.
A few minutes later, Candi came down the stairs. He hadn’t seen her in a few weeks and was shocked by the changes in her appearance. Her usually glossy hair hung limply around her starkly pale face, making the dark circles under her green eyes more prominent. Candi’s clothes hung on her body, emphasizing a significant weight loss her already-slender frame couldn’t afford. He had never been more worried about anyone than he was about Candi. Guilt slashed at his heart because he hadn’t been around as much to help her.
Candi smiled, but she didn’t fool him. She looked like the slightest wind would blow her over and the smallest upset would be the final straw that broke her. Royce knew her spine was made of pure steel though, even if she’d forgotten. He was done letting her blow off his concerns and offers of help—financially and around the house. Independence was one thing, but running herself into the ground was a costly mistake she couldn’t afford.
“We need to have a serious talk.”
Candi glanced around the living room, and her eyes glistened with unshed tears of shame when they met his again. “I promise it’s not usually this bad,” she said, mistaking the reason for his gruff voice. “I picked up a few additional shifts to make extra money, even though it puts me in a higher tax bracket, and the government takes more. I can’t dig myself out of this hole no matter how hard I try.”
Royce crossed the room and gently gripped her biceps, becoming even more scared when he realized how much thinner her arms were.Jesus. She was practically skin and bones. How had he not noticed her decline? Had it been occurring slowly since Marcus’s death, or was it more of a recent development he’d missed because he’d been spending most of his free time with Sawyer? What the fuck kind of friend was he? He’d let them down, and he was grateful he could step it up before things got too grave, or at least he hoped that was the case.
Leaning forward, Royce kissed Candi’s forehead. “I’m not judging you, honey. I didn’t mean to imply I was going to lecture you. I’m going to help you, and you’re going to let me.”
“But you do so much already, and I—”
Royce cut her off by briefly covering her lips with his forefinger. “I’m not one to tell a woman to be quiet, but this is no longer up for debate. Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to send the boys down here. I’m going to supervise them picking up this mess while you take a long soak in the bathtub.” She opened her mouth to argue but he pinned her with his “bad cop” expression. “I’m also going to order you dinner from someplace nicer than a pizza joint.” Royce just didn’t know from where yet. “Then we’re going to sit down at the dining table and eat a real meal together. Afterward, the boys can either go outside and play in the back yard or go up to their rooms so we can work this out.”
Candi briefly closed her eyes and sighed. “A bath sounds like heaven. I haven’t had a long soak since before I was pregnant with Bailey.”
“Well, tonight is the night,” Royce emphatically said, turning her around to face the stairs. “Send those ragamuffin boys down here to me.”
“Boys, Uncle Royce wants to see you downstairs,” Candi called down the hallway once she reached the top of the stairs, eliciting a chorus of cheers and the sound of running feet. Royce cringed, worrying they’d wake up their sister, but she apparently had learned to sleep through anything…except the night. His little angel still had her nights and days mixed up.
“Slow down before you reach the stairs,” Royce yelled, grinning when the running turned into power walking. He loved those little boys so much he thought his heart might explode. “Easy on the steps,” he said once their feet and legs came into view. “I came to have fun tonight, and that doesn’t include a trip to the ER.”
Marc and Daniel held on to the rail and slowly descended the steps until they reached the bottom, then they launched themselves in his direction with exuberant shouts of “Uncle Ro. Uncle Ro.”
Royce squatted down so he could scoop them both up in a bear hug and kiss their cheeks. “How are my best boys? I’ve missed you.” He clutched them tight until their combined weight and wiggling made his bum shoulder throb, forcing him to set Marc and Daniel down.
“Miss you too,” Daniel said, wrapping his arms around Royce’s leg. Of the kids, Daniel was the biggest daddy’s boy and was having a harder time coping, and he often clung to Royce during his visits. Royce didn’t resemble Marcus in any way—looks, stature, or even demeanor—so he figured Daniel was responding to another male in the house.
“Where ya been?” Marc asked with hands on his hips. He’d always acted wiser than his age, but losing Marcus seemed to age him even faster. Royce knew more than one asshole had given him the bullshit man-of-the-house speech. Marc wasn’t the man of the house; he was a seven-year-old boy and should be able to live as one. That didn’t mean he could take advantage of his mother’s exhaustion and throw his shit anywhere he wanted.
“I started back to work, and I’m going to therapy to fix my shoulder,” Royce told them. “Plus, I have a boyfriend now, and I’m spending a lot of time with him.”
“What’s a boyfriend?” Daniel asked, tipping his head to the side.
“It means I’m dating a guy instead of a lady.”
“Josi Haskell in my class has two dads, and Micah Canderwell has two mommies,” Marc said, studying Royce with curiosity. “Does this mean you’re going to marry him and have babies too?”
“I can’t predict the future, buddy. I like him a lot though, and he can’t wait to meet you guys.”
“Yay!” Daniel yelled, jumping around in circles.
“Can I see your scar from the bullet again?” Marc asked, signaling the conversation about his dating life and future with Sawyer was over.
“Sure.” Royce lifted his shirt, exposing the puckered scar on his left shoulder.
“The back too,” Marc said. Royce chuckled and turned around. “Awesome.”
“Yeah. Awesome!” Daniel mimicked.
Royce turned back around, looking at them with a stern expression. “There’s nothing awesome about getting shot, guys. Guns aren’t toys. They hurt people.”
Their joy dimmed, but Royce refused to feel sorry about setting them straight. Candi was careful about what they watched on television, and Marcus had been uber-vigilant about securing his service weapon while at home. Royce leaned down and kissed the tops of their heads. “We need to have a serious talk, fellas.” He gestured to the mess on the coffee and end tables. “Whose mess is this?”