Page 26 of Hell Bent (Portland Devils #5)

STORMING LIKE MAD

Alix

How was it that, after weeks spent telling myself that I didn’t want to sleep with Sebastian, that I needed to be alone now to figure out my life, all I wanted to do now, when I couldn’t, was sleep with Sebastian?

My fickle mind, probably. Or that scene at dinner. He cared, that was what got me in the heart. He thought he wasn’t a loyal person, I had a feeling, because he’d had to leave too many times, but what I saw was loyalty all the way. Loyalty, and kindness. And, of course, thighs.

You know the problem with condos, though?

There’s one place to hang out in them, the living room.

If a teenager is sprawled on the couch watching a movie in that one place—a movie with plenty of explosions and car chases—you don’t have much chance to see how it would feel if that controlled, disciplined man lost some control and started putting his hands all over you.

It wasn’t that I didn’t want Ben to watch his movie. He’d called his mom when we’d got back, and that was more than something. Now, he clearly needed to escape. I stayed for about half an hour of that, then got up and said, “I’d better get home.”

Sebastian stood up fast and said, “I’ll walk you out.” Which wasn’t what I most wanted to hear, but there you go. New Year’s Eve, and I’d had a date. A date that was ending at nine o’clock.

He didn’t say goodbye at the door, though. Well, he did, but outside the condo door, not inside it. Where he ran his hand through his hair, looked harassed, and said, “This isn’t going to work.”

It was a gut punch. I actually took a step back. “OK,” I said, because I couldn’t think what else to say. “I get that. I’ll just—I’ll go.”

Confusion in the wolf-eyes now. “What?”

“I agree,” I said, pulling my dignity around me as best I could. “You have a lot on your plate. And it’s not like you’ve promised me anything.” I turned to leave, because this was a conversation I did not want to drag out.

A hand around my upper arm stopped me. “Alix. Wait. What do you think I’m saying? That I don’t want to see you? When have I made you think that?”

“Oh,” I said, and tried not to let it matter too much. “Then what?—”

“I meant with Ben. And you. How am I supposed to see you and still be there for him?”

“We could take a break,” I said. Again, not something I especially wanted to say. “Let you get him settled.”

“Hell with that,” he said. “I’m not taking a break.”

“Then what do you suggest? You need a strategy, and right now, I don’t see one.”

“I know,” he said. “I know. You said once that we could talk it over. With tea. I don’t have tea. You also said wine, and I don’t have wine, either.”

“Good thing,” I said, “because the only thing that stopped Ben from actual alcohol poisoning last night was that he hated your Scotch.”

“Wait. He got sick?”

“Oh, yeah. When you look at that bottle, I’m guessing you’ll notice that he drank a fair amount. Enough to have him throwing up and mightily hung over this morning, anyway.” Sebastian looked appalled, and I said, “He was in a pretty bad place last night, I think.”

“Right,” he said. “I need a better plan. If I pour you a glass of …” He seemed to be doing a mental inventory.

“Gatorade. Water. Milk. Coffee. If I pour you one of those, maybe you’ll do some of that brainstorming with me.

This can’t be impossible. Kristiansen did the same exact thing with his sister, so I know it’s not impossible. ”

“We could sit on the floor, I guess,” I said.

He grinned. “Some date, eh?”

That was how we ended up side by side, our backs against the wall, in the condo’s corridor while I told him about Ben’s day and he told me about his sister. At the end of all that, I said, “So as I see it, you have a few issues.”

“Definitely a few,” he agreed.

“You work too much,” I said, “and Ben needs to do remote schooling for right now. That’s number one.

Number two, he’s fourteen, not seventeen like Annabelle was, and a fourteen-year-old boy is a whole different story.

Number three, he’s frantic with missing his mom, and I don’t blame him.

I understand why she can’t handle him living there, but this is too much.

It sounds like she could go fast, and here you are, with … how many more games?”

Some more harassed expression. “One, and possibly the wild card game, depending on what happens next week. After that? Depends how far we get.”

“And how far could that be?” I asked. “When’s it all over for good? ”

He looked at me. “You really don’t know about the Super Bowl?”

“I know that I usually go on a long trail run that day,” I said, “because everything’s empty, but I don’t have the date memorized.”

“February eleventh. Not that I’m counting any chickens. It’s a rebuilding year here. Not on the offense, because we’re good there. but the defense isn’t where it should be. Or special teams, either.”

“Is that what you are?” I asked. “Special teams?”

He leaned his head against the wall and sighed. “I always thought I didn’t want a woman who wanted me for the sports deal,” he told the ceiling. “Be careful what you wish for.”

I was laughing, and I was holding his arm, too. “If the woman’s impressed by you, does it help?”

He grinned, and then he got serious again. “So, yeah. I could be playing well into January. The lawyer says we can get Ben official on an emergency basis as far as school within six weeks or so, and definitely after Solange dies, but until then …”

I said, “You realize that you’re going to have to take him up there to see her.”

He stared at me. “I thought I just explained this. It’s a team. It’s my job, which I’d lose, because that’s not how it works.”

“She said weeks,” I said. “You told me that Solange said she has weeks. And you’re playing every weekend.”

“I get it,” he said. “I get that it’s not fair, but I can’t do what I can’t do.”

“She told you that a week ago,” I said, “and she looked pretty bad on that phone call. Sebastian—this is the main thing we have to figure out. This is the thing, because it’s what matters most.”

Sebastian

I did not want to talk about this. I wanted her holding my arm again. I wanted my arm around her. I wanted to feel like a damn hero.

Suck it up, I told myself. This is the real world. And said, “I guess I could send him back on the weekends, but that’s the main thing she?—”

“No,” she said. “He’d be unsupported, and she’d be so upset. No, I think you have to take him.”

“How exactly,” I said, “do you propose I do that? I’m not joking about the NFL. You don’t get to take a leave of absence for a family emergency, and you sure as hell don’t get to do it right before the playoffs.”

“You have one day off a week. You told me.”

“Yeah, I do. Tuesdays.”

“Then I think,” she said, “that you’re going to have to take him up there on Tuesdays, at least some of them.”

I said, “You don’t get it. I can’t fly up the night before or whatever you’re thinking. My days can be long. The playoffs are no joke.”

“It’s Vancouver, right?”

“Right.”

“There are flights,” she said. “Direct ones. Say you take him up there in the morning and bring him back in the late afternoon, give him a few hours with his mom. I get that it’ll be exhausting for you.

I get that it’s not fair. If it’s going to interfere with your performance, maybe I could—” She broke off. “Or maybe you’d rather I not.”

“Not what?” I asked.

“I could take him once or twice,” she said. “On a Sunday.”

“On your one day off. That’s a no. ”

She said, “I’m not trying to butt in on your life. But that boy …”

“Yeah. I know. That wasn’t good last night. I screwed up. I just don’t see what else I could’ve done. Asked Kristiansen if Ben could stay over there? I’ve met his wife once. Paid Francine to check in on him again, maybe? Except that I think I’m straining her goodwill even with the dog-walking.”

“Aren’t you paying her for that?” I asked.

“Well, yeah. Actually, I’m paying Callie for that, though I guess Ben can do it now. Francine doesn’t need the money, and she doesn’t have the time.”

“Just like you,” I said.

“Yeah. And Ben’s supposed to start doing school again once the winter break’s over. Francine’s sure not going to supervise that. All day alone in the apartment—it’s not going to work.”

“OK,” Alix said. “We’re getting ahead of ourselves here. Let’s back off and do the easier thing first.”

“What’s the easier thing? I’d love to hear it.”

“You get a tutor for him, of course.”

“Oh.” Why hadn’t I thought of that?

“It doesn’t have to be all day,” she said.

“Call it four or five hours. If he’s bright, the tutor doesn’t need to be sitting there for eight hours, not if the teaching is customized to Ben, going at his pace, answering his questions on the spot, and if he’s doing the work on his own.

On that note—checking his homework will be an important one.

And lots of quizzes. Accountability. And you need to get a list of his textbooks and lesson plans from his teachers.

Or have him tutored in the subjects he’ll be taking here, even better. ”

“Right,” I said. “An ad, I guess. Some teacher who’s had a baby or something, isn’t up to being back in the classroom yet. A high-school teacher who doesn’t put up with any crap. ”

“Excellent,” Alix said. “See how good you are at this problem-solving deal?”

I said, “I’m not twelve, you realize.” Which made her laugh and say, “No, you’re not. You are a full-grown man. And I admire you so much.”

This was more like it. “You do? Why?”

“Sebastian. Because you took him. Because you care. Is that enough buttering up to talk about the visiting idea?”

“Yeah.” I rested my head against the wall again, feeling tired. I didn’t normally get tired, but this whole thing …

“Is that something you could do?” she asked. “Take him?”

“It’s going to have to be,” I admitted. “Because you’re right. Not being able to see her again, to say goodbye … I can see it won’t work. Also, he only brought a few clothes. Refused to pack, I guess.”