Chapter Twenty-One

Perrie

 

“Okay, so, she has no idea I was meeting with you,” I tell Damien when he joins me at my front door.

If I thought Adrian’s unmarked cop car looked out of place in my neighborhood, I was not prepared for the sight of Damien’s perfectly-valeted, super-expensive BMW parked behind my car.

Talk about a diamond in the rough.

“I can’t believe this is where you’ve been living.” He followed me inside the house. “This is…”

“A million miles away from the life we grew up in? Yeah. That’s exactly what Benedict wanted. This wasn’t where I chose to live.” I dropped my purse at the bottom of the stairs. “I’m gonna change. Feel free to go sit down.”

I darted up the stairs—as quick as you can dart in heels—and disappeared out of his view before he could mention anything about my house.

Anything else, that was.

I was almost ashamed he was here. That my brother, who had never known anything but wild wealth, was standing in my run-down neighborhood. He was a fish out of water. Hell—he was a shark in the middle of the continental United States.

I sighed and pulled a pair of jeans out of my drawers, plus a slogan tank that proclaimed I would “run for wine.” White Converse completed that outfit, and once I was changed, I pulled my hair into a loose twist on top of my head, the hairband snapping against my fingers as I twisted it.

A glance in the mirror told me I needed to touch up my make-up, no doubt thanks to my crying session earlier.

How could I not cry?

Sometimes that was the best way to say hello. At least…that was the story I planned to stick with.

I ran back downstairs and almost ran into the back of Damien. “Whoa, sorry. Are you being nosy?”

He turned with a grin. “That obvious?”

I raised an eyebrow.

“Shit. You look just like Mom when you do that.”

I frowned. “I do?”

“Yeah. You know when we’d do something that annoyed Dad, or when we lied that it definitely wasn’t us who almost burned down the kitchen making Pop Tarts? The look she gave us then.”

I flashed back to the last time he mentioned. Neither of us had been particularly adept in the kitchen as kids, so when we were home alone and needed to eat, Pop Tarts were all we decided we could cook.

Well… Let’s just say that my genius brother had no idea that the numbers on the toaster correlated to the minutes the Tart would be cooking, and it wasn’t exactly pretty.

There was an explosion.

Benedict was furious, but Mom was amused. Hence the eyebrow.

I snorted at the realization he was right. God, it’d been so long, but I could still remember the way she pushed past a raging Benedict, stepped in front of him, surveyed the mess of the kitchen with her dark eyes, and raised one perfectly-shaped eyebrow at the pair of us.

“I’ll remember that piece of information,” I said, picking my purse back up. “You ready to go?”

“Sure.” He motioned for me to lead him out.

I did so, locking the door behind him. I unlocked my car, but he placed his hand on my arm.

“Let’s take mine. I’ll bring you home when we’re done.”

“I need Lola’s seat.” I pulled the seat out and Damien opened the back door of his BMW for me to fit it. Minutes later, we were pulling out of the drive and I was giving him Adrian’s address.

“So, Adrian Potter. He arrested you?”

I side-eyed him. “Really? We’re going there already?”

Damien shrugged a careless shoulder. “I’m only asking. Despite your previous insistence that I don’t.”

Goddamn it. I wasn’t going to get out of this.

“It’s complicated,” I started. “I mean, the first time we met, he arrested it. It’s not exactly Romeo and Juliet, is it?”

“A tragedy as opposed to a romance, but continue.”

I rolled my eyes. “The day after, he came to my house and offered me a job as a consultant. I took it, because I couldn’t do anything else and I needed a steady income. We worked together every night, stuff happened and our kids met, and yeah. Like I said, it’s complicated.”

He slowly nodded his head, indicating off the main road to another busy stretch. “I get that. Does he know everything about you?”

“Mostly. I think. Dahlia told me you told her everything.”

Nodding again, he adjusted his grip on the steering wheel. “I owed her that. She told me everything and, well, the past was the only thing holding me back from her. She deserved my honesty or I didn’t deserve her.”

“You really love her, don’t you?”

“More than anything.” He paused. “She makes a difference in my life. A good one.”

“I’m glad.” I squeezed his shoulder. “You deserve it.”

“You do, too, Per.”

“I don’t know. Sometimes, maybe.”

Damien shook his head. “You went through the same shit I did, but worse. Dad at least had hope for me. For you…” He sighed sadly. “You were his on paper. I hate that he’s ruined your life for the entirety of your daughter’s. I wish I could turn back and take all that away, because you, more than anyone, are worthy of being loved.”

I blinked back tears. “It doesn’t matter. He’s not the one. I already know that.”

“I said that about Dahlia, too.”

“No, Damien. His ex—his son’s mom—was a prostitute, too. She was…a horrible person. He’s prejudiced to us, that much is clear. I’m nothing like she was, but I know there’s a part of him that can’t look past her.”

“Do you?” He tapped his fingers against the wheel, pulling onto Adrian’s street. “Can you read his mind? That’s your perception of the situation, not the reality. Maybe you should try asking him. Hell, if me and Dahlia had asked each other a few more questions, we wouldn’t have made such a fucking opera about our relationship.”

I tucked a loose strand of hair behind my hair. He was right. That was me projecting my feelings, not Adrian’s.

He was growing on me.

Shit, he was more than growing on me.

He made me feel different—special, appreciated, cherished.

Maybe even loved.

“Which house is it?” Damien cut through my mini monologue, slowing the car right down.

“A little further down. The third one on the right.”

He pulled up in front of the right one.

“Are you coming in with me?”

He glanced between me and the house, hesitating for a second before saying, “Sure.”

I got out of the car and bounded up the path to the house. I was nervous, sure, but I was always excited. The one thing Lola wanted more than anything was a family, and I was finally able to give her that. I was able to give her an uncle who, I knew, would love her to pieces.

I knocked three times, then heard, “Who is it?” from Adrian.

Um… “It’s me.”

“Oh! Come in! It’s unlocked!”

Adrian had his door unlocked? What the hell was going on in there?

I eked the door open and poked my head around it. I couldn’t see a damn thing except the wall, so I moved inside to where I could look through the living room door.

“Where are you?” I called, still seeing nothing.

“Kitchen!” Zac shouted.

“Uh, I’m not alone.”

“It’s fine!” Adrian called.

I waved for Damien to step in and shut the door, then made my way to the kitchen.

Then, when I got there, I froze.

Lola sat on one side of the table, arms outstretched, hands flat on the top with her fingers splayed.

And Adrian sat on the other, a hot pink nail polish bottle next to him with the brush in his hand.

“Hi.” He put the brush in the bottle and looked at me.

I swallowed. “Uh…Hi.”

Zac stared at me. “Girls are bossy. I wanted to play video games, but no. Lola needed her nails painted.”

“Right…”

“Zac tried.” Lola sighed. “But he spilled the polish on the floor.”

My eyes widened.

“The kitchen floor!” she added quickly. “Mommy, I know you don’t do polish on the carpet.”

The momentary flash of panic subsided. “Well, that’s good.” It came out as a half-question, and I glanced to Adrian hopefully.

He grinned as he applied polish to Lola’s middle finger on her right hand. “All good, I promise. They picked it up right away and even cleaned it up. And I learned that the only thing Zac should paint is paper, outside, on the neighbor’s sidewalk.”

Zac harrumphed, arms folded across his chest.

I fought a smile. He looked so adorable with his messy hair curling across his forehead and his beautiful little eyes looking away in annoyance. I wanted to walk up to him, smack a kiss on his cheek and ruffle his hair the way I had this morning before I’d left, just to make him smile at me the way he had this morning.

Holy shit.

I loved that kid.

It was staggering and almost shocking, but really, made perfect sense. This mini-me of the man who was currently painting my daughter’s nails had stolen my heart.

And the more I watched his father applying hot pink polish to her tiny fingers, I realized something else.

He was a thief, too.

The worst kind, because he’d snuck in and stolen a piece of me I never knew was up for grabs.

He’d stolen my daughter’s heart.

And that meant he’d stolen mine, because a part of me lived within her.

Except that isn’t the only part of your heart he’s stolen, Perrie Fox.

I walked around the table and wrapped an arm around Zac. Doing just what I wanted to, I smacked a huge kiss to his cheek and ruffled his head.

“Don’t worry, Zac, it’ll be football season soon enough, and then nail polish will have to be themed to team colors,” I whispered in his ear.

His face lit up and he looked at me. “You think?”

“Compromise.”

“Done.” Adrian screwed the brush back into the bottle. “Now don’t move for, like, five minutes, okay?”

“Five minutes?” Lola shrieked. “There’s a sixty on the bottle! That means one minute!”

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Damien’s amused raised eyebrow. And he said I looked like Mom when I did it…

“That isn’t gonna dry in sixty seconds,” Adrian argued. “No way.”

“Well…” I waded into the fight. “It does, actually.”

All three men in the room stared at me.

I held my hands up. “Excuse the beauty industry for understanding that we don’t all have time to wait five minutes for our nails to dry. Sometimes we need to paint and go.”

“Exactly,” Lola answered, holding her hands up in front of her and examining them. “I’m far too busy to wait for five minutes.”

“You are, are you?” Adrian asked with a twist of his lips.

She looked him with her eyebrow raised and, holy shit, she looked like my mom, too. “Well, yeah. Barbie and Ken have to get married tonight. Why else does a six-year-old need her nails painted?”

I folded my arms, smirked, and waited for his response.

Adrian grimaced. “That is an excellent question.”

“Who’s that?” Zac pointed in the direction of Damien.

Two sets of eyes swiveled to him. Lola’s as curious as Zac’s, and Adrian’s hard.

“Kids. Why don’t you go watch TV?” I bent down between them and dug into my purse. An impromptu stop at the grocery store on my way to my interview got them candy that I whipped out now.

“Deal.” Zac snatched it up. “C’mon, Lo.”

“I’m not watching the tranny show again!”

I looked at Adrian in alarm.

“I like the Transformers!” Zac shot back. “And I have the candy. Watch it or you don’t get any.”

I groaned as Adrian slapped his hand against his forehead.

“Zachary!” he snapped.

“But I don’t wanna watch another princess,” he whined through the doorway.

I ditched my purse on the table and joined them in the living room to scroll through the channels. “The Jungle Book. There. Done. And I’m taking the controller so nobody can change the channel, so nerner.” I poked my tongue out. “And, Zac, share that candy or I’m gonna eat it.”

His jaw dropped.

I winked and headed out of the room, slamming the controller down on the kitchen table. “There problem solved.” I took a deep breath and looked at the two men now standing in the room.

Well, one problem solved.

“I don’t believe you’ve ever officially met, so… Damien, Detective Adrian Potter with the LVPD. Adrian, my brother, Damien Fox.” I motioned between them.

They both murmured greetings and shook hands before, in a typically male way, put distance between themselves.

I wanted to roll my eyes, but clearly I had to be the bigger person here.

“Was Lola good? They seem feisty,” I asked Adrian.

“She was fine. It’s only been the last half hour or so. But they were too busy playing Minecraft at six this morning, remember?”

I sighed. “Too well.”

“How did your interview go?”

“Well. I think I might stand a chance.” I shot a look toward Damien and hoped Adrian didn’t notice.

“I called the chief today.” He leaned back against the counter and met my eyes. “He’s emailing you a notice for the mutual termination of your employment as a consultant with the LVPD when you say the word.”

“And if I don’t get the job?”

“You can take a hands-off approach.”

“You won’t need to work for them,” Damien cut in. “You know that.”

“Maybe she wants to,” Adrian replied. “We’ve always treated her fairly.”

“I wouldn’t call putting her in cuffs treating her fairly.”

“I wouldn’t call telling her to abort her child treating her fairly, either.”

“Enough.” My voice was hard, cold, and cut right through the growing tension like a knife. I focused my angry glare on both of them. “This conversation will not happen around the kids. If you’d like to continue taking shots at each other, there’s a backyard right there.” I pointed at the door. “Otherwise, shut up and let me talk.”

They glared at each other, but neither said a word.

“Damien—I am completely aware I don’t need to work. You’ve made it very clear that I have a job with the family business, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to steamroll into it. And, Adrian? Thank you. That was thoughtful of you to call and of the chief to hold off terminating my consultancy with you.” I put my hands on my hips. “I’m not going to stand in this kitchen and discuss that right now. I’m here to have my brother meet my daughter.”

Adrian deflated. “Of course. I’m sorry.”

Damien didn’t apologize, but I wasn’t expecting him to.

I blew out a long breath. “I’m sorry I snapped. I just—”

“You’re on edge,” Adrian finished for me. “It’s all good, firecracker.”

The nickname that once bugged me made my lips curl into a smile.

“Detective Potter,” Damien said, looking to Adrian.

“Adrian,” he cut in.

“Adrian,” Damien corrected himself. “I’d like to extend a personal apology for my father when he spoke to you on the phone. And a thank you for taking care of my sister and my niece.”

Well, shit the bed and call me Sally.

That was something I never thought he’d say.

Adrian smiled. “Thank you for the apology—both times. It was and is appreciated. As for your sister and niece,” he said without looking at me. “There’s nothing I’d have rather done with my time the past few weeks.”

That sounded a lot like goodbye.

Like this was the final time we’d be together.

I swallowed.

I wanted to throw myself into his arms. Wrap mine around his neck and kiss him until I felt so numb it barely mattered that this felt like the end.

“Lola!” It took everything I had inside me to keep my voice together.

“Her bag is by the front door,” Adrian said, nodding to Damien and dipping his head as he joined Zac in the living room.

Lola shuffled through with Dolly hugged to herself. “Yeah, Mommy?”

The door to the living room shut.

I beat down the emotion that wanted to force its way out of me. “There’s someone here that I’d like you to meet.”

“The strange man there?”

“Yes, the strange man.” I smiled when she stared at him.

“Oh no, is that your boyfriend?”

Damien cough-snorted.

“No! God—no.” I laughed. “That’s Mommy’s big brother. He’s your Uncle Damien.”

The tension and horror that had grabbed hold of her dissipated. She relaxed and dropped her shoulders, sighing in relief. “Phew, Mommy. You scared me.”

Dear God, she loves these guys, too.

“Well, I’m very sorry for scaring you,” I said slowly. “But maybe you could say hi now?”

Lola craned her neck and leaned to the side. “Hi, Uncle Damien.”

“Hey, Lola. Are you hungry?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Yes.”

“Would you like to go for lunch?”

“Mommy, too?”

“Sure.”

“Can we go to Polka’s?”

“Wherever you wanna go.”

I closed my eyes. Goddamn it. Not Polka’s. Anywhere but Polka’s. “Awesome.”

Damien paused. “Is that not good?”

I wanted to laugh at his naivety. “She wants to go to Polka’s, we go to Polka’s.” I straightened, and with Lola tugging at my hand while I tried to gather both of our bags, I followed my brother out of Adrian’s house.

For what felt like the last time.