THIRTY-TWO
Evan’s worked overtime all week to try and find a loophole that will keep Tristan away from us, even though I tell him it’s no use. He’s the kind of guy who’d find a way, no matter what legal threats Evan gives him.
Tristan doesn’t understand rules or proper etiquette. To him there’s only wants and needs—his.
Despite the fact I’ve given the school warning that Tristan’s back in town, and they’ve reassured me there’s no way he could get into the locked premises without permission, I can’t find it in me to concentrate throughout the day.
All I think about is Briar. How this affects his day. How it affects his future. And what the long-term implications will be if Tristan decides to carry on this fight for years to come.
He’s cunning in his abuse. He does little things that over time will wear me down, that will piece by piece weaken my resolve until somewhere along the line I’ll slip up, tired, and not as sharp as I need to be to keep on top of his game.
In the short space of a week I’ve had the graffiti on my car, smashed wing mirrors, my rubbish bin upturned and every bag torn open as though he searches for something, and most recently, Evan was late for his shift because he had to change a slashed tyre on the Jeep.
I stood watch in the freezing pre-dawn air while he did, worried it was a trick to get Evan alone. And the whole time I could feel him, his eyes on us, watching, waiting, calculating.
I don’t know how long I can keep going like this, knowing how badly Tristan drained me after the last episode.
How strong am I when it comes to the crunch? Will I be enough for Briar? Able to protect him from his own flesh and blood?
“Can you open this for me, Aunty?” Briar passes a sealed water bottle over.
I crack the top and pass it back, watching as he takes a big gulp before setting the bottle down beside his activity book. We’re seated opposite each other at the table, him with his pictures to colour in, and me with my laptop open on the online form I need to fill in to apply for guardianship of Briar, and to apply to have Tristan removed as one.
The sooner we can finalise the legalities, the better. Once Tristan is removed as having any rights over Briar it’ll be easier to sideswipe him with the strong arm of the law. Until then, we have to be careful what we do to block his access in case it works against our case in court.
Apparently, I have to be seen as trying to accommodate Tristan’s requests, no matter how abusive he is when he makes them.
Given the bastard’s history, it’s a fucking joke.
“When will Evan be home?”
It touches me how Briar calls my apartment home and includes Evan in the equation as though it’s completely normal. But, then again, I suppose it is. We only had a few days here together on our own before Evan started staying over. He’s been more a part of Briar’s new life with me than he hasn’t.
“Soon, I hope.”
Evan’s been coming home later and later, almost obsessed with his crusade to find a way to ensure they throw away the key when Tristan is returned for his parole violations. Because he will be. Sooner or later he’ll slip up, and sooner or later we’ll have the hard evidence to show he’s breaking his terms.
I manage to fill out the forms required to lodge my application for guardianship without too much problem despite the thoughts distracting me as the afternoon light fades to night. A heady mix of apprehension and excitement fills me as I press the submit button. Briar’s blissfully unaware of my inner turmoil as I look him over, his head cocked to the side as he concentrates on a particularly tricky part of his picture.
A month ago I’d only just met this wee guy for the first time, yet already, I feel as though we’ve settled into our day-to-day as though this is normal, like we’ve done it a hundred times before.
The click of the catch on the front door catches both of our attention, and I look at Briar with a smile and wide eyes. “Who’s that?”
“Evan!” He drops his pencil, the picture forgotten, and launches off the seat to run and greet him.
“Hey,” Evan says with a laugh as he drops his work bag and scoops Briar into a bear hug. “How was your day?”
“Good. How was yours?”
I lean against the end of the kitchen counter, watching them interact with a smile. It’s nice, knowing Briar has this male influence in his life, a positive one, a good one. I couldn’t ask for a better role model if I tried.
“I had a busy, busy day,” Evan answers Briar as he sets him down. “Lots of people to tell off today.”
“That’s not good.”
“No, it’s not.” He points a mock stern finger at Briar. “Promise me you’ll never be one of them, okay?”
Briar straightens his back, chest puffed out. “I promise.”
“Awesome. High five.”
The guys slap palms, and Briar ditches the conversation in favour of his colouring again.
“How was your day?” Evan asks as he stops toe to toe with me.
“Good. I just sent off the forms.”
His hand slips around the back of my neck, and he places a kiss to my forehead. “You’ll do fine. They wouldn’t have any reason to deny you.”
“It’s not that I’m worried about,” I admit. “What if they don’t revoke Tristan’s rights and I end up doing this dance over and over?”
“Again. Not likely.” He pointedly glances at Briar. “But we’ll talk about it more later, huh?”
“Yeah, of course.”
I lean into him, placing the side of my face against his chest. His fingers run along the length of my ponytail, flicking it out before he repeats the action. It’s nice, this feeling of contentment. I don’t feel as though we have to be talking all the time, more that it’s okay to just be.
He steps away and collects his bag, taking it through to the bedroom to change and put his uniform in the wash. I follow, taking a seat on the foot of the bed, and smile like a giddy schoolgirl as he strips off his boots, blue shirt, and pants, so all he’s left in are his boxers.
“You know, you could just stay like that. I’m sure Briar wouldn’t mind, and I’m certainly not complaining.”
He smirks, stalking toward me with a hungry look in his eye. “Maybe later, huh?”
“Yeah.” I flop back on the bed, frustrated. “Got to keep some sort of standards with a kid in the house, right?”
“Exactly.” He leans down over top of me, holding his weight on his hands. “Still, nothing wrong with doing this.”
Evan’s lips meet mine, and I instinctively reach for his face, relishing the prickle of his stubble beneath my palm.
“I’m glad you’re here,” I murmur against his lips.
He pulls back, sighing.
“What’s the matter?”
“It’s my weekend to have Deacon.” He shifts, taking a seat next to me on the bed. “I forgot to tell you earlier in the week.”
Of course. “I totally didn’t even think about that. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He looks down at me, apology in his eyes. “I don’t want to leave you two alone though. Maybe I should call Birdie.”
“Nonsense. Just bring him here.”
Evan chews on his bottom lip, his gaze moving between my eyes. “Babe, I don’t want you to think I’m ashamed of you or anything stupid; I just don’t want to confuse things for Deacon, or Briar.”
Why would it be confusing? Unless … He hasn’t said it, but the implication’s there. Only somebody who was worried about a relationship not lasting would say that. Does he think I’m not one hundred percent with him? Does he think there’s a doubt?
Maybe he’s the one who isn’t sure.
The thought stabs painfully at my chest.
“Whatever you need to do,” I say, plastering on a forced smile. “I understand.”
“You’re so amazing.” He leans over and kisses my head. “You know that, right?”
I shrug, smiling despite my pain. “I better go get dinner started.”
“Yeah, okay. I’m going to have a quick shower if that’s okay?” He rolls away, stretching out over the mattress as I stand.
“Of course. Take your time.” I lean down and give him a kiss. “Like you a lot, mister.”
“Like you even more,” he says as I back away, snagging me by the wrist to pull me in for another one.
If only I had the guts to tell him the truth.
The way I feel about Evan is way more than like.
Way more.
I love him.
Always have.