Page 77 of But For You

I made a face. “No, you wouldn’t.”

“Yes, I would, but that’s how I am.”

“What do you need me to do?”

“I’ll have papers delivered by one of these nice people with me; this is Theresa Lin and Nadira Kothari.”

I smiled at both women.

“Whoever shows up will go over everything with you, and we’ll get the papers signed and filed. Right now, Theresa will head over to the courthouse to get a restraining order filed.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he echoed me, patting my shoulder.

I was finally starting to feel a little better.

I called Dylan on the way to the loft and explained that Kola’s finger was broken and that I wasn’t sure if I should leave him with her. The plaintive whining in the background notwithstanding, she begged me to drop them off.

“It sounded like fun, and you never go out, and it’s just to your brother’s house and back.”

“Yeah, but what if assassins come to your house after⁠—”

“Really? Assassins? Are you sure they’re not ninjas?”

“This is serious.”

“I get it, but your life always looks like this in one form or another, and I don’t think anyone is coming after you or the kids. I don’t think Sam would have allowed you to not go into protective custody if that was really the case. Think about it seriously for a minute as well as what you know of your man.”

She was right.

“And really, on my street?” She scoffed. “Who has more busybody neighbors than me?”

“Oh yeah, you win,” I muttered under my breath.

“Hello! Mrs. Applebaum and her best buddy, Mrs. Flores? And Mrs. Wong? Dear God.”

“So, you’re saying that my kids would be safe with you?”

“Auntie Dyl, come get me!” Hannah squealed.

“That’s what I’m saying.”

“I just feel like Kola needs⁠—”

“I want s’mores!” my son whimpered. “Auntie Dyl⁠—”

“I hear the chanting of the peanut gallery behind you, by the way.” She snorted out a laugh. “C’mon, baby. Gimme your kids. I promise not to sell them to the circus.”

I started laughing.

“Unless I get a really good price.”

“I hope Chilly didn’t make you crazy.”

“He made the dog insane. I was fine. I have a great picture of him hanging off the end of her nose.”

I groaned. Sheila, Dylan’s Saint Bernard, was nothing if not long-suffering.