AllFreeNovel
Share Us
When I reached the side of his king-size bed, I toed my shoes off, keeping my eyes on the still form beneath the covers the whole time. He had his back to me, but I knew he wasn't sleeping. How could he be? I’d basically just upended his entire world. I eased myself into the bed and then sidled up against him. I fully expected him to tell me to leave or push me away, but he didn't react. I took a chance and pressed the front of my body full-length against the back of his. It wasn't until I wrapped my arm around his waist that he reacted.
But instead of pushing my hand away, he drew it up so my palm was resting against his chest. I found myself letting out a heavy sigh of relief. I knew nothing between us had been resolved, and that he was likely just experiencing a moment of needing to be comforted, but I would take it.
"Promise me you'll keep them safe, Matias. Promise me you won't let anything happen to my children."
"I promise, Sam. I'll find Bishop and I'll end this. You, your sons, you'll be able to go back to your normal lives and this will all seem like a bad dream and nothing more."
I had no way of knowing if my words comforted him, because Sam didn't speak again. Within a matter of minutes, I could hear the steady breathing that was proof he’d finally fallen asleep.
I wasn't expecting to find any peace in slumber myself, but the next thing I knew, it was morning and I woke up alone in the bed. I practically jumped off the mattress and ran out of the room. It wasn't until I heard Sam's voice and Ryan's unique laughter that I came to a screeching halt and tried to calm my racing heart. The fact that my reaction to Sam's absence had been so over the top was just more evidence that he was much deeper under my skin than I'd ever believed possible.
When I entered the kitchen, Sam looked up at me. Something flashed in his eyes that I couldn't identify, but his voice was calm, friendly even, as he said, "Good morning. Can I make you anything for breakfast?"
I shook my head and murmured, "I'll just have some coffee."
I made my way toward the coffee machine, but Sam beat me to it. "Sit," he said as he motioned to the table. I noticed an iPad sitting on it as well as several dirty breakfast dishes.
Despite Sam’s friendly demeanor, I knew something was off. The words might've been right, but the tone wasn't. I could hear the anger behind his words. Anger I suspected he probably would've directed at me full force if Ryan hadn't been present. My eyes shifted to the little boy. He was watching me curiously.
"Sleepover," he said through the use of his computer. It still fascinated me the way he would look at something on the screen in front of him and the words would come out of the machine. After that first night with Sam when he'd gotten his hackles up about me referring to Ryan as his “kid” instead of using the child's first name, I'd started looking up information about Ryan's condition. The big takeaway I'd gotten from my research had been that Ryan and people like him weren't developmentally challenged. The condition affected movement, balance, and posture. In Ryan's case, it also affected his ability to speak. Once you got past the physical limitations, it became clear that Ryan was just like any other kid. In his case, he needed a board and a computer to help him talk, just like a deaf person would need sign language to communicate.
I glanced at Sam because I wasn't really sure what Ryan was asking me. I'd always made sure to leave by morning long before Ryan got up, so this was a first for him and for me.
"I was telling Ryan that you and I had a sleepover and that we would probably have a few more this week."
"I have sleepover?" Ryan said.
"No," I automatically said. There was no way I could risk another kid’s life. It was bad enough that I'd put Ryan in danger.
I realized immediately that not only had I responded inappropriately, I'd scared Ryan in the process with my too-loud response. The little boy shrank in upon himself. I felt like a complete and utter asshole.
"Yes, buddy," Sam said as he knelt down next to Ryan's chair and put his hand on his son’s arm. "You can have a sleepover soon. Maybe we can talk about having a couple of your friends spend the night for your tenth birthday."
Whatever damage I’d done to Ryan with my callous behavior, Sam managed to undo with his gentle touch and soft words. Ryan nodded happily, though he shifted his gaze back and forth between me and his father. I wisely held my tongue this time.
