Page 13

Watching my kids together is a surreal experience. They’re quiet and polite, almost as if they’re used to their voices not being heard.

They dig into their food with gusto, but the longer I observe them, the more I pick up on.

Legend watches Lovelyn as she eats, his bites much smaller than hers. Once her plate gets low, he moves enough for another bite from his on to hers.

So many times, he’s protected her since they showed up here.

Was he born first? Is that why he protects her, because he’s her older brother? Or is there a darker reason?

“I’m going to go check on your mama. You all good for a few minutes?”

Legend lifts his chin. “We’ll be fine without you.”

Ouch.

What a kick to the nuts.

I crack my knuckles against the island counter and walk out of the kitchen with a grim smile.

The first broken cry hits me when I reach the top of the stairs.

Indecision wars as I try to figure out the right move.

My steps slow, giving her privacy for as long as I can.

Only a few minutes later, an agonized scream pierces the closed door of the bathroom.

There’s so much fucking terror in it that the hair on my arms stands on end.

The doorknob nearly comes off in my hand as I shove it open and barrel inside. Steam from the shower fills the air. Fog has settled on the glass door, so her form is a blur behind it.

Her screams pierce my ears as I hurry across the floor to her. Without hesitation, I step into the enclosure, fully clothed.

I drop behind her and wrap my arms around her. Once her back rests against my chest, I tighten my hold until she’s snug against me.

“Shh. Shh. I got you, little mama. Everything’s gonna be okay now.”

Despite the scalding heat of the shower, shivers jar Birdie’s body. Sobs continue to pour from her, and with each one, I tuck her tighter in my hold.

Each tortured cry leaves a mark on my soul, a score I’ll carry with me long after I’m buried in the ground.

The need to fix it seethes under my skin, but where the hell do I start when I don’t even know the entire story?

She’s only given us bits and pieces of the hell she’s endured, and I know there’s still much she left unspoken.

“I got you,” I croon, rocking our bodies back and forth.

The water pours down over us as I try to shove away the demons chasing her. Her cries peter off until only sniffles remain. The tightness leaves her body, and she melts further into me.

“I hate you,” she says so low that I would have missed it if I didn’t have my cheek resting against her head.

There’s so much damn sadness in her words, it hits deep in my chest. There’s no doubt in my mind that a part of her truly does.

Her wet hair sticks to my mouth when I brush a kiss to the top of her head.

“There’s a fine line between love and hate, little mama.

You’re only straddling it.” I slide the arm that’s around her up between her tits until the beat of her heart flutters against my palm.

“In here is where the truth lies. It speaks for you.”

“Now what?” Birdie asks after a minute or two of silence.

“Now, you fill me in on what happened here. Then I take care of my family.”

Birdie takes a while to speak as she struggles to trust me. I’m a safe space for her physically, but I’m the last person she’d ever consider safe emotionally.

“It wasn’t always bad with him, you know. Not until five years ago.”

Five years ago.

“After I showed up?”

“Yes. It took me the better part of a year to understand that, though.”

I’m not a man who feels guilt or regret often. I make decisions and stand by them regardless of the collateral damage.

Except, it seems, with this woman and the two kids down in the kitchen.

With them, I feel a shitload of it, and it’s disconcerting.

“It happened slowly at first. He was always careful not to do it in front of the kids or leave marks anyone could see. Sometimes, it was his words that left the deepest scars.”

My fingers brush the coolness of the pearls that still hang around her neck. I almost yank them from her, but she must read my mind because her hand lifts to wrap her fingers around them.

“Frankie was great at cutting me down with words. If I had to guess, those are what broke me first. You hear people say that words can never hurt you, but I think the ones who say that have never been on the receiving end of ones meant to tear you down.”

“What happened the day you finally left, Birdie?”

“No,” she whimpers, shaking her head back and forth.

“Shh. Shh. It’s okay, baby. You don’t have to. Let’s get you out of here and in some warm clothes. The twins are probably antsy. What do you say?”

“No more questions,” Birdie demands through chattering teeth.

“For now.”

“Fine,” she whispers.

I place a kiss on the top of her head before climbing to my feet. She warily eyes the hand I hold out to her. Her fingers tighten around those motherfucking pearls before she slowly releases them and places her hand in mine.

The moment I get the chance, I’m snapping those goddamn things from her neck.

A wince crosses her face as I pull her to her feet carefully.

My jaw clenches when I get a good look at her naked body.

It’s a chaotic blend of black, purple, green, and yellow bruises mixed with scabbed-over cuts.

Some form fingerprints, while others shape themselves like a fucking fist. My jaw clenches as I roll my eyes over them, trying to count, but it’s easier to count the spaces not filled with the ugly colors.

The details of their placement cement in my mind.

There will be a time when I get the chance to create the exact pattern on that motherfucker, and I can’t wait.

Birdie stands as still as a statue while I dry her off. Her fingers continue to toy with those pearls, and my fists clench around the towel as I fight my urge to rip the pearls away. It’ll be a great day if I never have to see a fucking white iridescent orb again.

I grab the sweatpants and squat in front of her. “Hold on to my shoulder so you don’t fall over.”

“You’re soaked,” she murmurs, placing her hand on me.

A shiver overtakes me at the contact. It’s easy to ignore and pretend it’s from the chill rather than a simple craving for her touch.

“Don’t worry about me. Let me take care of you first then I’ll get dry.”

The dark fingerprints on her hip draw my attention, and a growl erupts. It’s so loud, it startles her enough to jerk. Leaning forward, I softly brush my lips against the marks in apology.

For my betrayal.

For his .

My lips whisper across the bruises in a soothing caress, attempting to erase the evil implications behind them.

Nothing but time will truly erase the damage.

Time and love.

The light touch over my wet hair has me peering up, but as soon as I do, she removes her hand.

“I’m going to kill him,” I vow.

“I know,” she whispers.

Birdie shudders as I brush my lips along her hip one more time before I slide the sweats up over her and climb to my feet. I bite my lip when I see the way they hook to her waist without me having to roll them any. Fuck. She fills out my clothes perfectly now.

After I help her put the t-shirt on, I pull my wet clothes off and toss them into the sink to grab later. Then I wrap her damp towel around my waist.

“How are you feeling? Are you up to walking? If not, I have these strong, manly arms that can carry you.”

Her lips twitch when I flex my arms. A sliver of light slashes through the darkness of my soul at the hint of her smile. I’d walk through hell to see that on her face again.

“I can walk.”

With a sigh, my lips purse into a pout as I slide my fingers between hers and lock our hands together. “If you insist.”

There’s a lot of shit I can’t do right now about the dumb motherfucker who dared put his hands on my Birdie. So, until he’s hanging from a hook at the Slop ‘N’ Chop for me to play with, I’ll do whatever I can to take care of my family.