CHAPTER TWENTY

LYNNE

I ignore the shrieking, the crying, and the shakes that are trying to take over my body. I knew today’s meeting wasn’t going to be one where I came out on top. I’ve been at the bottom for as long as I can remember. I’ve clawed my way to where I am now, and this turn of events has placed me right where I want to be. Close to the top. Close to having everything I’ve wanted.

I’m sitting here with my brain whipping all about trying to understand how a man who had everything at his feet once upon a time would get involved in drugs. He had a wife who I assume loved him enough to marry him. Daughters who would have done anything to seek out a father who would have given up anything to achieve one ounce of love from that man. How can this be?

“I vaguely recall anything after you told me about Richard. How is Matthew?” My thoughts are running rampant trying to recall what was said. There were whispers, a hand massaging the back of my neck, a phone ringing, and people milling in and out of Thomas’ office. Beyond that, my body must have taken to the numbness as if a hundred tiny pricks of a needle hit my flesh. My mother and the man I’ve always thought of as my father are frauds. They’ve woven a web of self-destruction and in one swift sweep, everything they own will be wiped out.

“Similar to you. He’s hurting more than he lets on. Losing his best friend the way he did has to be a giant blow. Bottom line, though, he loves you, Lynne. That one word is more powerful than any other. You should detect its meaning better than anyone.” I release a slow exhale. I despise mixing love and hurt together. It’s so cliché. And yet, it’s true. Love hurts in all kinds of ways. It can heal, too. Makes people feel whole, fills them with goodness. Springs up on us all a craving since the day we are born. It’s more than expensive clothes or designer shoes. Love is my new family and friends.

“Well, I don’t associate that word with them. Not in the way Matthew did. This is a sick joke. The man must be devastated. Especially with him being a cop. God, Richard was probably selling it right under his nose.” I’m trying hard not to hyperventilate in this truck. My chest aches for Matthew and how this must make him feel. Regardless of the love he has for me, it has to be eating away at his gut.

I hope Richard rots in his cell.

“Did he go back to the hotel?” I ask while unzipping my wristlet to bring out my phone to call him. My stomach bottoms out with worry for my dad. I pause mid-swipe when I realize what I called him. My dad. He’s a wonderful man. We will get through this. Together.

“No. He went to the station to see about a job.”

“A job. Here?” My jaw drops.

“Yeah. Don’t act so surprised. What did you think he would do when this is all over? Go back to New York and forget he’s lost thirty-one years with his daughter? I don’t think so.” I sink back into my seat. Today’s events should have me shaken up, filled with rage and anger. Crusted over in darkness. Instead, I find myself feeling loved, cherished, and fortunate beyond the wealth I was raised in.

Richard never told me he loved me. He watched his money grow, gushed over Laney’s artwork or Larissa’s ability to learn foreign languages as quickly as she learned English. All he gave me was lies.

“I hadn’t thought that far ahead. Life’s been a little complex lately. For a while there I thought we were all going to go crazy.” These past few weeks have populated us all with ambitions and doubt. Insecurities and craziness. It will continue on a few more days, weeks even, for Tyson and me until we have the kids and demolish my mother.

My dreams will not be short-lived this time. The jumbled-up pieces of my life are locked back together, while a sense of calm has wrapped around me. It’s melted into my soul. Filling me. Consuming me.

Images of me as a young woman wounded from a broken heart flicker in front of my eyes. Hurt and humiliation are no longer present. It’s all been suddenly replaced by anger toward my mother. A bubbling, boiling mass of blackness that takes me to a place I’ve never been before. Revenge. In the highest form.

Richard is going to be mutilated while sitting there spitting his blood all over the floor, and in doing so, I’ll restrain myself from going to see him. Instead, I’ll spend my time enjoying the boys while waiting for the adoption to go through. I’ll sit back and let Tyson and the FBI clog up every artery in Richard’s body. Make him gag on every lie, every treacherous, disloyal action he has performed.

Vengeance has come knocking, and it’s not on my door.

“What are you thinking about over there?” Tyson asks smugly. He knows damn well what I’m thinking about. He just wants me to say it. I see the evil glaring out of his eyes. Hell, he’s dripping with it. He’s been waiting as long as I have to place a padlock over the only thing that will justifiably cause damage to the people he detests the most. Revenge. Except, I would assume he wants that lock to be dripping with the black blood that bleeds out of their dead souls.

“About Richard. I’m not shocked; I’m elated. Overjoyed that I won’t have to look in his eyes again. To see his smug face when he tells me he took someone away from me. I’m still trying to figure out how I never saw any of it. You’re sure my mother didn’t have a clue?” My voice hardens with every word I punch out.

“I think she may have suspected. That’s why she never left him. He may have threatened her. I can’t be sure. Not until I talk to the FBI. One thing I am sure of is every asset they own is tied up. She’ll be left with nothing. Not a dime to her name. I’ll be honest. I was ready to say fuck all of the going by the book back at Thomas’ office. My fingers were itching like a madman to call Riddick and Jude, to tell them to find an abandoned warehouse and tie him up until I got there. I want to kill him, Lynne, or fuck him up for life. A part of me wishes I could. Death is too good for him. He’ll die in prison. I’ll see to it.”

I lean my head back, close my eyes, and laughter bursts forth inside of me. My mother. The Queen of the City of Angels is going to end up being the Queen of the Fallen. I can’t wait to rub it in her face. To stampede her with the same phrases, stinging, hurtful words she used to say to me.

Her husband may be going away to live behind bars. But her, wherever she ends up will be the worst kind of hell. Scrambling her wicked brain to try and save her soul from falling. She’ll never make it.

“How long will it take to get this information to the state?” I smile, knowing his answer by the way he smirks and narrows his eyes.

“Lynne. I may have waited until we were at Thomas’ office to tell you. I sure as hell didn’t wait to get that information where it needed to go. Jude and Riddick were taking it to them personally.” My smile grows wider as a sense of self-importance washes over me. They’ve done all of this for me. For the boys. For Tyson.

“It seems I owe them another thank you.” I tumble into a cloud of a dispute between my head and heart again. It’s a foreign feeling to have friends. Especially ones who want your happiness and turn it into a mission to make it happen. To follow through with life’s greatest pleasures without you knowing it.

“You don’t owe anyone a thing.”

“That’s not entirely true. I owe Jacob and Joshua a life full of love. Of contentment. Stability. I’m going to teach them how to be better men. God, my stomach rolls with the mere thought of Richard raising them,” I say disdainfully. I can feel the bile in my throat thinking what they may have turned into if he were able to. They could have turned out like him. Drugs could have corrupted them. Addiction. Prison or even death. I shiver from it.

Tyson lifts my hand, entwines our fingers, and presses a delicate kiss across my knuckles, and for one fleeting moment, my infuriation fades away as I look down softly smiling at how perfect my small hand fits into his. “I believe it’s my job to turn them into men. Your determination to turn them into men turns me on. Though, I suspect we both better tone it down a bit, because there are a couple of kids along with their foster mother waiting to see who’s sitting in this truck.”

“What?” I reel my head around, and sure enough, my boys are standing on the porch with their mouths hanging open.

“Oh, well, in that case, I better step back and let you at them.” I avert my gaze to where Tyson is adjusting himself; a soft giggle escapes my mouth. I’ve been so obsessed with my thoughts about the crumbling of a self-righteous empire that my mind slipped away from the most important people in this equation.

“Wait. Are we supposed to be here?” I frown.

“I don’t give a shit if we are or not. I’m meeting those kids. Hop on out. I know you want to touch them.” I do. I want to touch him, too. Tell him how blessed I am for having all three of them.

“I think they’ve grown.” I yelp then spin back around and unhook my seatbelt. Even though I hear the deep chuckling coming from Tyson, I pay him nor it any attention. How can I when the minute I push open the door and climb out, I see two sets of eyes grow wider, hear loud screeching and words I’m not able to comprehend. I drop to my knees and embrace them both, inhaling that sweet, sweet innocence that surrounds them. They come so willingly, so eagerly. How could anyone not see that this bond we have was meant to be? A blind man could feel it; a deaf man could sense it. I’m not an idiot. I know unbridled love when I see it, and this is so far beyond it that it’s insane. I kiss them, hug them, and hold them. I never want to let them go.

“I’ve missed you,” I speak over the anxious babble droning out of their mouths. I wouldn’t understand what they were saying to me even if it I didn’t have more than I can handle rummaging through my head. My heart is literally blessed over this.

These children are everything. How can any man or woman hurt them? How can a person’s conscious allow them to sleep at night? It’s not about revenge for myself, for Tyson, or anyone else; it’s them. They need me to protect them from a man who should show them nothing but love from the moment they were born.

It doesn’t matter how many times I tell myself or the repetitious thoughts that scatter through my head on a daily basis. I will never understand it. Why people take the gift of love for granted. And I wish with all that is within me that I knew why. Love and family are everything. Life isn’t complete without either one of them.

“Lynne, you’re squishing me.”

“Yeah, Lynne. I can’t breathe.”

“Oh, sorry. It’s just, well, it’s been a while since I’ve seen you. Can’t a girl hug her two favorite boys?” I shrug, pull back, and admire them standing before me.

“Mr. Hill said we wouldn’t be boys if we come and live with you. He said we have to be the men of the house.”

“Jacob.” His name falls from my mouth like a dishonest prayer. I regret more than anything having Theo and Jude explain that I’m working on them living with me. I should never have caved in to giving them false hope that they would eventually be living with me. It was my decision, but yet once again it was my family backing me into a corner. My shoulders sag, tears form in my eyes, and I’m suddenly at a loss for words. Please, God. Let this work out. And hurry.

“Well, I don’t know about that. What if I want to be the man of the house?” Although my shoulders remain slumped forward and my heart is breaking for being no better than the people who raised me with their lies and dishonesty, I can’t help but lift my head in order to witness them go utterly still. Their eyes are turning into giant saucers, and the only parts of their bodies moving are the shifting of two tiny little heads tilting up.

“Holy crap. Tyson. You are way bigger than you look on a computer. You’re really huge. Did you bring your badge? Your gun? You said you would. Can we see it?” I would have dropped to my knees by the ambush to my tattered heart if I wasn’t already. Joy compresses at my core. Relief sweeps me off the cool, crisp grass. I stand, place a hand on top of the boys’ heads, and with a shaky breath, a tight sob wanting to erupt from within me, I observe Tyson drop down to eye level with Jacob and Joshua, open both of his hands, and display two shiny badges. That sob dislodges. I quickly stifle it by placing my hand over my mouth. I have never seen a more tear-jerking, heart-filled moment in my life.

Tyson thought I turned him on. He hasn’t seen anything yet. There is nothing sexier than a man squatting down to give his undivided attention to children. He’s enraptured with them, and I want him so badly I ache.

“You have two?” Joshua asks. I can’t see their faces from here. It pains me. Part of the pain sketched on my soul erases within half of a pounding heartbeat. Just like Matthew promised it would when the gift I’m being given from the satisfaction spreads wide across Tyson’s face.

“Nope. These are special badges. They need to be taken care of by someone who will watch over them for me. You guys wouldn’t happen to know anyone who would want to keep them for a little while, would you?” At this moment, everything insubstantial dissipates. Even the air is trying to escape from my lungs. It is swooshing around in my chest, slowly. My pounding heart is the only thing permitting me to know that I’m breathing. Because everything else inside of me is numb. It’s all washing away a lifetime of horrifying memories while relishing in one entirely spent up in my dreams. He’s a natural at this. I told him he would be.

“We can hold them for you, can’t we, little brother.” My hand is still covering my mouth. A cry rips freely throughout my body. Jacob is always reminding Joshua that he’s older. It’s a good thing they are captivated with Tyson, because I’m more of a mess than the situation we are all in.

I take a step back. Circle my arms around me to stop the flutters from seeing a memorable sight forming in my stomach. I’ve had my share of quality time. It will never be enough. This time right here isn’t for me. It’s for them. For Tyson.

“I’m glad you stopped by. They’ve missed you.” I refuse to take my eyes away from the three of them. The boys are holding the badges in their tiny little hands. Tyson is talking quietly, explaining to them what a special police badge means. I don’t know what they mean or where he got them, but whatever it is has them nodding their heads in understanding.

“We should have called first. I’m sorry.” I turn to face her. Her eyes are cautiously watching me. She’s as nervous for them as I am.

“Your attorney called. I’m not going to ask you how you’re holding up. I’m a little in the dark with everything that’s going on. I’m not saying this for you to tell me your story, Lynne. As far as I’m concerned, they are yours already. I want you to know that we’ve told the social worker who came to see us that you love those kids more than anything and they should be with you.” I want to scream right now. To throw a raging, childish fit. To fill her in on everything. To agree with her. I can’t, and I never would. Not in front them. This dear, loving woman who opens her home to children who are left with nothing.

“My story doesn’t matter anymore. They do.”