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On the way back to the house, I closed the door to the past as the tears fell. So much unnecessary pain and loss. I would never forget it—without it, I might not have had Kurt and Dylan. But it would remain in the past for now and forever. I would no longer let people in my past rule me. I would survive.
Chapter Fifty-Three
Two months later
Kurt
The wheels of the plane touched down on the tarmac. Since takeoff, Dylan and Sawyer had been sleeping soundly. Dylan was safely buckled in on the couch, in his carrier. Sawyer had her hand draped across his tummy. He was getting so big. Two months old. Hard to fucking believe it.
I texted Knoah.
Me: Landed. Be at the hotel in thirty.
Knoah: Great. Almost done.
Sawyer thought we were headed to Garrick and Knoah’s home in Utah for a weekend away with our friends before Knoah couldn’t fly anymore. However, we’d just landed in Vegas.
Her shoulder had healed nearly good as new. I knew it still bothered her at times, but she never complained. Fuckers. At least those assholes wouldn’t see the light of day any time soon. My girl was so strong. The police had found the PO box and something at the Colorado home. The information hadn’t been released yet as the investigation continued. They hadn’t broken her. Not at all.
Sawyer stretched. “Oh, we’re here. That went by fast.”
George walked up wearing a blue bow tie that matched Dylan’s outfit. Yeah, I lost that battle. Poor George would have to figure a way out of that on his own. I petted his head. “You’re a good boy.”
If it was possible, George was more protective of Dylan than he’d been of Sawyer. He stayed close to him, always watching. If Dylan cried, George ran to one of us whimpering. Best damn lap poodle I could ask for.
Life had settled down, and I had everything I wanted—except one thing. And she was killing me by denying me. Killing. Me. It had driven me to extreme measures. I’d plotted and planned something. What the actual fuck?
I nearly had a heart attack when I’d handed Knoah the blue sticky note.
The doors opened, and we made our way to the limo. Hopefully, I could keep Sawyer engaged enough in conversation so she didn’t notice where we were.
I changed Dylan’s diaper before the car started moving.
Sawyer giggled. “You’re getting better at this.”
“It’s a war zone.”
More times than not, I got peed on. I had to be superhero fast before Dylan’s hose would light me up. At home, I got a welder’s mask to use when I changed him. The pee pee shield did shit and only made a mess. If the little man was going to let it blow, it was going to go
everywhere…except my mouth. Yeah, Sawyer thought that was fucking hilarious. At least I didn’t get piss in my mouth anymore.
“Let me nurse him. He’s going to be hungry in the next fifteen minutes. This will make the trip easier.”
Screaming baby wanting his mother’s tit—another nightmare. But I loved every second of it. Sawyer cooed at him. “You’ve been sleeping through the night for a week. Yes, you have. Your daddy and mommy are so glad.”
“And that means Daddy gets to fu—”
“Cuss muffs!” Sawyer had one eyebrow raised at me.
Leaning over, I put my hands over Dylan’s ears. Dylan swatted me with his hand. “As I was saying, that means Daddy gets to fuck Mommy.”
Sawyer grinned. “Yes. Yes, it does.”
Those six weeks of waiting were pure agony. I felt like some damn teenager, jacking off all the fucking time. This time around, we decided on the pill since the shot had been an ineffective barrier.
After fastening Dylan back into his car seat, Sawyer snuggled into my side. The limo drove off, and Sawyer dozed off again. That was easier than I thought. I should have figured it, though. Sawyer had insisted on doing all the night feedings because nursing was important to her. But it left her exhausted. She was still catching up on her sleep. And even though Dylan slept through the night now, we’d been making up for lost time.
I pulled out my phone to text my cohort.
