Page 58 of The Impact (Parachutes #3)

“Cree Autumn is dead.”

Vin stared blankly as his wife gazed into some unknown dimension.

“Or Tiffany, or whatever.” Tahli added that bit, turning and heading for the stairs.

Massaging his lips, Vin’s stare seared the wall as if it would paint a picture on the next steps.

Terran stealing the cookie from his fingers snapped him out of his trance.

Speaking of steps…He missed Terran taking hers.

Vin rapped on the doorway, finding Tahli in their bed on top of the bedding, still fully dressed.

A typical Tahli no-no. He’d placed Terran in her playpen and asked Dali to keep an eye on her.

“Don’t give her anything and don’t take her out.

” Commanding orders happily received by his big-girl soldier.

Dragging skin off his cheekbones, Vin debated his first words.

“What happened?”

“…Apparently, she was battling ovarian cancer, and I never knew. She had her ovaries removed recently, also didn’t know that. Didn’t matter, according to Pru, her bandmate, boyfriend, whatever. It had spread. It was too late.” Tahli gave all of that evenly, without looking his way.

Vin exhaled, deflating his chest. “What do you need from me?”

He watched her gaze at the closet doors.

“Space,” she requested very tenderly, almost guiltily.

Nodding, Vin pivoted.

“Dalvin!” rang out when he was in the hallway. She called him Dalvin. A name that typically came with immediate need.

“No,” she simply uttered when he reentered the room. “I changed my mind.”

Vin joined her on the bed, wrapping an arm around her, drawing her into security.

Fucking Lola was dead. Stupid-ass, infuriating-ass, get-under-his-skin, loved-the-high-more-than-life, source-of-all-fucked-up-within-him, Lola Hayes… Cremated and turned to ashes because she had some dumb-ass claustrophobic fear of coffins.

No matter how many times Vin had cursed her, mainly in his youth before he truly grasped the devil of addiction, he never thought the day would come when his choice to forgive her would be confiscated.

He used to joke to Munch, Lola’s gonna outlive my ass .

She didn’t. Didn’t even get to go doing what she loved best, like most fiends.

Nope, she was sober and miserable, albeit proud.

She had halfway convinced Vin this could be the time.

Then boom! He’d say life was tricky like that, but he knew life was only God’s bitch.

“You ready?”

“Yeah,” DJ muttered, dragging his size seven Jordans. Vin carried his backpack for him, opening the back door to his Mercedes.

“Dad, can I sit in the front? I’ll be thirteen in August.”

Cars smashing into Tahli ripped through Vin’s brain like wildfire.

“No. Looking cool ain’t worth your life.”

“At least when I’m thirteen?”

“We’ll talk about it.” Vin shut his car door. As soon as he got in the driver’s seat, DJ followed up with,

“Can you at least put on Drake?” Vin curved his head.

“Negotiation,” DJ shrugged, using Vin’s own tactics.

“Why you like this corny guy?” Vin had to know.

DJ and Milo were day and night, both stealing different parts of Vin and running in opposite directions.

Milo got the appreciation for real hip-hop, reserved nature, intuitive, silent-but-deadly aspects of Vin.

DJ was athletic, charming, confident, with a slick tongue and an eye for the girls.

“He’s a good rapper. Nas is a senior citizen.”

Vin shook his head. DJ had no interest in the Nas concert that Vin had taken Dali and Milo to.

“There’s no heart in the music, D. Give me a line that actually made you think or feel something, and I’ll put it on.”

“It sounds good, and it makes you feel happy.”

Vin had to accept that. Perhaps, that’s all people wanted to do. Dance away their problems. Laugh away their problems. Consume and move on. Who gave a fuck about substance?

Sixty seconds in, Vin had to cut off the track annoyingly asking where the function was, over and over. He peeped back at DJ.

“If Drake makes you feel happy, why your face longer than ya arms?”

DJ pulled on his fingers, and Vin crumpled his brows.

“What’s up, D?”

“Nothing, it’s just…can I come with you?”

Vin sighed. He’d put off this meeting twice—Tahli’s accident and Lola’s sudden death.

At $50,000 a pop and 24 locations, if Vin didn’t make it to LA, it’d be the equivalent of finding the world’s biggest toilet and flushing 1.

2 million dollars down that bitch. Ordinarily, he could send Munch. But this wasn’t ordinarily anymore.

“Baby boy, I’m a be way too busy, and I can’t leave you alone. But how about this? When the meeting is over, I’ll get right back on the jet. I won’t stay another night.”

“Okay,” DJ moped.

“Why, what’s up?” Vin probed. “Everything okay over Grandma’s? I thought you liked it there?”

“I do. But Aunt Chippy’s home, and she’s not doing drugs anymore, so she’s mean. Her and Grandma fight all the time. And she eats all the snacks and don’t share.”

Vin pinched his tear ducts. It was his responsibility as a father to never have DJ in an uncomfortable position ever again. His boy had suffered enough of that.

He’d have to cancel the trip. Or find a way to bring him. Living and learning as a single dad. Vin flipped ideas around in the silence.

“Lalalalalala Bamba. Lalalalala Bamba.” The hairs on Vin’s forearm rose. DJ didn’t seem to know any more words, so he repeated the same line, as Vin stole glances at DJ with his forehead pressed against the window glass…reciting Tahli’s comfort song like a mantra.

“Tahli.” Vin clasped his hands together, prayer-fashion, to silently thank her.

“Of course. Hey, DJ.” Tahli rubbed DJ’s shoulder as he stopped on the step below her.

Even if smaller, Tahli’s new home had what Vin’s was missing.

Whatever kept the grass greener and the flowers blooming.

Candles lit and food stewing. Laughter and love.

Her . It had the her he missed excruciatingly.

Had a new porch swing, too, and Vin resented that shit. That porch swing felt permanent.

Did her and Drew sit out on that porch swing? Did she hold his hand?

“I’ll see you tomorrow night, alright?” Vin hugged DJ.

“Take your time,” Tahli drawled playfully. “Hey, DJ. You hungry?”

His son nodded.

“Okay, good. ‘Cause we made way too many homemade pizzas.”

“Yes!” DJ pumped his fist. Just then, a blur of giggles flew by the doorway.

“Oh! DJ’s here, now we can play in teams!” Dali said it like it was nothing.

Apparently, one day of DJ at Tahli’s while Vin tended to his dying mother had done what Vin hadn’t managed in a year and a half.

“Aye!”

“Oh. Hey, Daddy.” Dali giggled, rushing out to hug Vin quickly before running back inside with DJ trailing her. From the doorway, Milo threw his chin to Vin, and Vin lifted his hand.

“What’s up, Lo?” Milo didn’t answer, only vanished.

“You can be on Milo’s team.” Dali even bossed DJ around like that was normal.

Vin chewed his cheek.

“Tahli, I shouldn’t ask you to do this. I’ll cancel the meeting.”

“Dalvin, I offered.” DJ humming La Bamba had prompted Vin to text Tahli.

Did you teach DJ La Bamba? Because he’s singing that shit in the backseat.

She wrote back almost instantly.

LOL I did. I told him to sing it whenever he was sad, and he would feel a little better.

Vin replied.

Makes sense. I’m taking him to his grandmother’s now but he doesn’t want to go.

So why is he going?

Vin had massaged his forehead at her response. As Vin scrolled for his assistant’s number to cancel, Tahli followed up with,

Just bring him here.

“Daddy!” Terran stepped onto the porch, chubby 7-year-old arms outstretched. “Daddy, I thought that was you.”

Vin laughed heartily. “Oh, you thought it was me, huh?” He picked her up like she was air, kissing her cheek longer than normal.

“Mmhm. Daddy…can you buy me a new lunchbox?” She toyed with the dial of his Patek while he held her. “Khalil wrote BB all over mine.”

“Yeah. Of course. What’s BB?”

“Big Back. Because I’m a big back.”

Vin rolled his tongue in his jaw and Tahli crossed her arms.

“Yeah, I wasn’t going to lay that on you before LA. Figured we’d talk about it when you got back.”

Things he would have known if he weren’t demoted to secondary parent.

“You’re not a big back. Don’t ever let somebody else’s words define you. You’re beautiful. You’re smart. You’re perfect.”

“I know,” she said, big eyes meeting his.

Tahli had Terran’s hair straightened, long around her fluffy cocoa cheeks, almost to her elbows.

“Can you still buy me one, anyway?”

“Yup. I’m a buy you two. One to use. The other to bust Khalil right in his ugly face. Knock his block head off, Terran. Make Daddy proud.”

“Dalvin!” Tahli screeched.

“If you want to. Only if you want to. Daddy’s giving you a pass, okay?”

Tahli smacked her forehead. “You have a flight to catch, Mr. Hayes.”

“I know.” He placed Terran down.

“Bye, Daddy. Hey! I wanna be on DJ’s team.” Terran almost tripped up the stairs in excitement.

“Terran, you’re not playing!” Vin heard from inside. Mother Dali.

Terran’s face balled up, and she turned back to Tahli.

“Hey, let her play!” “Let her play!” Tahli and Vin shouted on top of each other.

“Thank you again for this, Tah.” Vin jogged quickly up the stairs to peck her cheek. “Just when I thought I couldn’t love you more.”

Her lips parted, setting sun glowing her brown eyes. Her nutmeg skin glimmered, and Vin had to pinch her cheek. He just had to. His Tahli.

He didn’t mean to throw her off with that, nor make her uncomfortable, so he gave her back her space right away, jogging down the steps to his still-running car.

Before he reached the curb, someone crashed into his back.

Arms wrapped around his core in an embrace. Vin turned, expecting Dali or even DJ.

His heart swelled when he realized it was Milo who had rushed to hug him goodbye. Vin hugged him back, kissing the top of his head.

Yes, Lola may be dead.

Yeah, he may have even lost his queen.

But his son was trying to forgive him.

So many losses lately, Vin gladly accepted the win.