Page 30 of Make Me Trust Again (Bluebonnet Creek #3)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

ROSE

“Pick up,” I mutter to myself as I listen to the phone ring, and ring, and ring. With each passing second, my fingers are gripping it tighter as I fight off the panic that’s rising inside my belly.

He’s fine.

There’s no reason to worry. Maybe they’re busy playing, or eating, or something. Right? That’s probably it.

But damn him, why isn’t he picking up?

Hanging up the phone, I pull out John’s contact again, dial, and wait.

He’s been MIA for over 24 hours. I’ve tried calling several times, but he hasn’t picked up. So either something’s wrong, or he’s ignoring me.

Finally, after what feels like forever, the call connects, and I’m met with loud music coming from the other side of the line.

“John?”

People are yelling and laughing in the background, and I’m pretty sure one of them is my ex-husband.

I squeeze my phone tighter. “John!”

“What the fuck do you want, Rose?” he slurs into the speaker, and I’m not sure if I should be relieved that he actually picked up the damn phone for a change, or angry that he’s out partying while our son is God only knows where.

“Where is Kyle?”

“Home.”

“You left him home alone?” I turn around the room, looking for my keys. If he’s left Kyle all alone?—

“He’s not alone. He’s with a nanny.”

A wave of relief slams into me, making me rock on my heels. I lean against the kitchen counter, holding onto it with my free hand. “You said you’ll try.”

My words are weak, and I hate myself for even saying them out loud, for giving him more ammunition. But damn him and his selfishness.

“I don’t see how it’s any of your business. It’s my weekend, which means I get to do whatever the hell I want to do. I don’t even know why you’re calling. You sure didn’t bother calling yesterday when you went out with your friends.”

What the actual ? —

“I was at the café!”

Somebody calls his name over the loud noise.

“I’m coming,” he yells back, already distracted. “ My weekend, Rose. That’s our agreement. Don’t bother me again until I drop Kyle off at your place.”

“Jo—” I start, but he doesn’t wait for me to finish before the line goes dead.

Gripping the phone, I let my hand fall. “Fucking John.”

Why did he insist so much on this when he clearly has no interest in spending time with Kyle? It’s one thing to try and hurt me, but to do it to our son?

Lifting my hand, I pinch the bridge of my nose. I can feel the headache looming behind my temples.

I check the time on my phone before pulling out the number and starting the video call.

I nibble at the inside of my cheek as the phone rings.

I don’t know if Kyle’s up or even close to his phone, so he can feel it vibrate, but I have to try at least. I feel less guilty for giving Kyle my old phone now.

It’s clear that I can’t trust John, and I need a way to get in touch with Kyle on my own.

He needs a way to reach me if he needs a way out.

It feels like forever before the phone finally connects, and Kyle’s face appears on the screen, and all the weight that has been on my shoulders since his father took him finally lifts.

“Mom?” His voice is small, and it breaks something in me when I hear it.

Turning around, I lean my phone on the glass that’s sitting on the counter so that I can sign more easily.

“Hey, buddy. Did I wake you?”

He sits up, the phone falling into his lap as he tries to find a better position as well, so I catch glimpses of his old room back at our house.

Not really. I can’t sleep.

“Is everything okay?”

Yeah. He shrugs. Dad left, so I’ve been with Billie.

“Did you guys have fun?”

Billie is a teen girl who lives a few houses from ours, and she looked after Kyle a handful of times when John wanted me to accompany him on one of his dinners.

I guess. His brows furrow, and I can see that stubborn look shine in his eyes. I wanna go home.

I bite the inside of my cheek. “Tomorrow.”

I want to go home now.

“I know, Kyle. But remember what we said? We have to try.”

Kyle’s lips press into a tight line, and I can see his anger and frustration in every muscle in his body as he signs: He’s not trying. He’s not even here!

“I’m so sorry, Kyle.”

I don’t know what else to tell him. He isn’t a little baby anymore, although some days I wish he was.

Now he understands better the world around him, the people surrounding him, and their motivation.

He can see how his father is treating him, and it hurts him.

I wish I could do something to take that pain away from him, but I really don’t know what’s better.

Either way, it’s not like I have much of a choice.

I need to stick to the settlement, at least for now.

His shoulders sag. I just wanna go home.

“Tomorrow. Think of what you want us to do, and we’ll do it once you come back, okay? Just you and me.”

You swear?

“I swear.”

Okay.

He lets out a yawn, clearly tired.

“Go to sleep now, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“’Kay. Love you, Mom.”

“I love you, too, buddy. Put away the phone before you go to sleep.”

“Fine.”

With one last wave at him, I hang up, that ache in my chest back in place.

Letting out a long breath, I turn off the lights in the kitchen and make my way out to the back porch, where I take a seat on the swing, curling my feet underneath me.

This is just the first weekend, and John has already left Kyle with a nanny, making him want to go home. How the hell are we supposed to continue doing this? For how long? How many times will I be able to tell my son no after he asks me to come and get him?

Try. You need to try at least, Rose.

The divorce should be finalized in a few weeks, and who knows, maybe once all of that is behind us, John might decide he doesn’t want to bother with us. Is that too much to hope for? Am I a bad mother for hoping my ex would forget about our son?

I lean my head against the cushion, my gaze going to the empty spot next to me, when I hear soft rustling.

My heart goes into overdrive as I shift my gaze to the woods and the dark figure standing by the trees.

Chase.

My lips tingle as the memory of last night comes back, my mouth goes dry as we just stare at one another, neither of us saying anything.

A part of me wonders if I’d imagined yesterday happening, but now he’s here. Again.

I shift slightly in my seat, my teeth grazing over my lower lip. Even though I can’t be sure, I swear I can feel his eyes on my mouth. Is he thinking about last night? About that kiss? I know I am. I can’t remember the last time somebody kissed me like that.

Time had slowed down, and it was just Chase and me, those calloused fingers cupping my face as his mouth devoured mine, erasing everything else, everybody else.

The next time I kiss you, you won’t be married to another man.

For a moment, Chase just stands there, making me wonder if he’ll walk away. My stomach twists in a knot at the idea. I don’t want to be all alone with my thoughts in an empty house.

I’m not sure how long we stay just like that, when he slowly takes a step closer.

His footsteps are almost inaudible as he climbs onto the porch.

I take him in. The soft moonlight casts light on his face.

His skin is pale, the circles under his eyes even more prominent than they were last night, just accentuating the deep hollow reflected in his irises.

The dark stubble covers his jaw, his lips set in a tight line.

Every muscle in his body is tense, like he’s teetering on the edge, and one wrong move will make him fall.

He looks haunted.

It should scare me. He should scare me. But for whatever reason, he doesn’t.

Chase sits next to me, Shadow taking a spot by his side.

He places one of his hands on her neck, his fingers sinking into her fur.

I’ve seen him do it a few times now. When those demons haunting him become too much, he reaches for Shadow as if she was his lifeline.

Maybe she is. After all, she’s the one who has been with him through it all, the one who knows him better than anyone.

Chase runs his hand over his jaw before he lets it fall onto the cushion. The small space makes our palms brush against one another, and that current of electricity zaps through my arm. I should pull my hand away, but I don’t; instead, I go one step further and link my pinky finger with his.

Chase’s head snaps in my direction, his narrowed gaze meeting mine.

My body locks under his watchful gaze. I don’t move, don’t breathe, just watch him watch me. For a second, I wonder if I’ve gone too far, if I’ve messed up or broke some invisible line that was drawn. I expect him to brush my hand away, get up, and leave, but he doesn’t.

His finger links with mine, holding tightly.

Releasing the breath that was stuck in my throat, I will my body to relax and shift my gaze back to the sky.

But not Chase.

His gaze stays locked on me.

That’s how we stay for the rest of the night. I’m not sure when I fell asleep, but by the time I woke up, he was gone once again.

“Mom!”

My heart does a little flip inside my chest at the sound of Kyle’s voice. He closes the door to John’s truck and runs toward me, his backpack bouncing on his shoulders with every step he takes.

I open my arms just in time for his body to slam into mine, knocking all the air out of my lungs. But I don’t care. My arms wrap around Kyle, and I hold him tightly to me.

“I missed you.”

His soft words make me squeeze my eyes to hold back my emotions. Kyle’s a very affectionate kid, but he’s growing up, and moments like this are becoming more rare, so I’m planning to embrace every single one of them.

“I missed you, too, buddy.”

The door slams, louder this time, making my eyes snap open just in time to find John glaring at me.

Kyle starts to pull back, so I reluctantly loosen my grip on him and shift my gaze so I can take him in. His hair is mussed, his shirt a bit rumpled, but otherwise he seems good.

And he’s home. That’s the only thing that matters.

“You hungry? I made cookies.”

Kyle’s eyes light up. Chocolate chip?

“Your favorite.” I smooth his hair back in place. It has grown longer in recent weeks, and a haircut is due in our near future.

Yes. Can I have it?

“You know it. Go on inside, I’ll come in a few. Say bye to your father.”

Kyle glances over his shoulder, like he just now realized John is still here.

“Bye, Dad.” His words are clipped, and I can see by the tight line between his brows how hard he’s trying to articulate every single word he says correctly. Not that John cares because his mouth presses in a hard, disapproving line regardless.

“Kyle.” He nods. “I’ll see you in two weeks.”

Kyle’s fingers curl around the straps of his backpack, his knuckles white from how hard he’s squeezing them.

Asshole.

I gently place my hand on his shoulder, which snaps him out of his head, so he turns around and goes inside.

I suck in a long breath and turn around to face John.

“Do you always have to be like this?”

“I’m just teaching him some manners.”

Irritation spikes inside me, making me grind my teeth. “He has manners. You’re just being an ass to him. And you’re late.”

John moves closer. He looks disheveled. His hair is sticking in all directions, his eyes are bloodshot, and he didn’t bother shaving, so dark stubble covers his jaw. Considering he spent the night out partying, I shouldn’t be surprised.

“Weekends are mine, Rose,” he hisses into my face. “Be glad I didn’t drop him off at midnight. Next time, I just might.”

The corner of his mouth curls in a smirk as he lets his eyes drop, taking in my body. The need to wrap my arms around myself and hide from his view is overwhelming, but I force myself to stay still under his perusal.”

“I’ll see you soon.” He takes a step back as his eyes meet mine. “ Wife .”

“ Ex-wife. ”

“Not yet, babe. Not yet.”

“The papers will be here soon; might as well start practicing.”

The wicked glint in his irises makes the hair at my nape stand at attention.

“The papers might be here soon, but they’re only valid after I sign them.”

My fingers curl into a fist by my side, and he doesn’t miss it. That smirk only grows bigger. “Don’t forget about that.”

With that, he slides back into his car and finally gets the hell out of here.

“Fucking John.”

His threat hangs in the air, like a noose wrapping around my neck, making it hard to breathe. Because whether I want to admit it or not, he is right. The papers aren’t signed, and until that happens, he has the upper hand.