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I set my forearms on the mat I’d placed on the oddly flat space at the side of the field, as if Ryker had known it would be the perfect spot for me to do my yoga with just a hint of sun shining through the trees behind me. With a deep breath, I shifted my body up into a dolphin pose. When I sighed out, I kicked my legs up until the movement shifted me into an elbow stand. I held that, breathing through the feeling of Ryker’s eyes on me. Eventually, I bent my knees to drop into a half scorpion, loving the way the inversion of my body made all the blood rush to my head. Normally, I hated it. I’d never been a fan of the feeling of my head drowning and losing all cognitive thought to the overwhelming pressure, but there was something so magical about the loss of thought in that moment.
Ryker’s odd behavior didn’t dance at the forefront of my mind. I wasn’t blinded by his seemingly obsessive knowledge of us that I couldn’t explain, and I didn’t feel like I was losing my children to a man I didn’t know.
I was just free. Free from thought and jealousy and logic.
But it eventually became too much for me, and I had no choice but to bring my legs back together into my elbow stand and drop my legs back to dolphin pose. When I stood and stretched my arms to the sky, I became acutely aware of the sweat that dripped down my spine as my head cleared and reality returned. I felt too hot in the coming moment and eventually dropped my arms to my side with a last exhale. Turning to Ryker, I found he’d stopped throwing the ball to Axel, just holding it in one of his massive palms as he stared at me. Axel stared at him, a mixture of amusement and disgust on his face, but Ines just looked confused.
“James’s dad looked like that the one time he picked me up at the studio and Mommy was teaching a class,” Axel inserted, and Ryker’s attention finally shifted off of me to study him meaningfully.
“I’ll just bet he did,” Ryker grunted, finally tossing Axel the ball. “I think I’ll have a word with James’s father when he comes to pick you up.”
Axel blushed, seeming to finally realize that Ryker might not be a fan of other men looking at me. He was too young to understand the nuances of attraction, or what it meant for Ryker to be oddly possessive of me. His father had never cared.
But I got stuck on the part about James’s father picking Axel up, wracking my brain as I tried to think if I’d forgotten a birthday party. “Why is Mr. Weaver picking you up?” I asked Axel, crossing my arms over my chest. I was positive there was nothing I’d forgotten.
“James asked if I could sleepover tonight. Ryker said it was okay,” Axel said, and he eyed me as he realized that might not have been a good decision, but I knew from the expression on his little face that he hadn’t meant it to be hurtful. He’d asked one of the people he saw as his guardians, but it didn’t change the fact that it hurt.
“I see.” I nodded, turning a glare to Ryker. While my son might not have intended any harm, Ryker had to have known that it wouldn’t be acceptable to me. “Axel can you take your sister inside? I’m sure you need to pack for your sleepover,” I asked, and my sweet boy nodded and took his sister’s hand to guide her back toward the house.
Ryker and I both watched them go, waiting until they were safely through the pool room and through the door that went to the main house. I couldn't stand the thought of them alone, when they shouldn't have had to be alone ever.
But it was unavoidable with what needed to be said.
I wouldn't make Axel feel uncomfortable, not when I genuinely couldn't blame him for being confused in our current situation. Ryker acted like he was their father, and he needed to set the expectations of what they should seek from him. Permission to go do something fell with me as his mother, and it was Ryker's fault for confusing those lines and not correcting Axel in the first place. Then he hadn't even bothered to tell me he'd given my son permission to go to a friend's house.
"Calla," he said.
"Don't," I mumbled. "You crossed a line. You should have told Axel he needed to ask me about those things. It is not your place to tell him what he can and cannot do."
"He's my son," Ryker turned to stare down at me, crossing his arms over his chest like he was the wronged party and not certifiably insane.
"You haven't even known him for two weeks!" I said sharply, stepping into his space to return his glare. "You do not get to decide like this! He is not yours, and nothing you can say or do will change the fact that he already has a father." My voice trailed off as exhaustion filled me. I was so tired from fighting him all the time, from trying to make him see my perspective and the fact that he'd ripped me from the life I'd created and just expected me to cave to his ridiculous demands. "I'm trying. God, I am fucking trying to understand what the hell is so wrong with you that you think any of this is okay." I scrubbed a hand over my face, bending down to roll up my yoga mat. "I'm trying to make it work, since you didn't give me any choice. Do you think maybe, just maybe, you could stop for once and consider what this has been like for me? I am not asking a lot by expecting you to leave the decisions regarding my children to me, and if you can't see that, then you're even more of a dick than I thought you were."
I stormed toward the house, leaving Ryker staring after me. It should have felt like a victory, like I'd successfully won a battle.
Instead, it just felt like he was preparing to win the war.
???
I fully expected to have to go through the motions with Mr. Chris Weaver. Pretending that the fact that my son was going off to a sleepover wasn't an enormous deal. He'd spent the night at James's a few times, but it was the distinctly noticeable presence of Dante sitting in his car out in the driveway that made it feel very different.
Our lives were fu
cked.
So fucked that my son couldn't even spend the night at his friend's house without personal security staking out the property and without my six-year-old having a direct line to him through his very own cell phone. "Maybe the boys should just spend the night here," I suggested when Chris Weaver looked at me in shock as Ryker explained the security protocols.
Dante wouldn't go into their home unless there were signs of trouble, but Axel was to answer his phone calls on the hour every hour and notify him when he went to sleep. "This feels like you don't trust me to look after the boys," Chris objected, crossing his arms over his chest. He didn't say the words to Ryker, seeming to either identify me as the weak link or maybe it was because we knew each other well enough because of the kids.
He'd been there for me, helped with the kids after Chad's death and given me a shoulder to cry on after I'd tucked them into bed when it felt safe to break down. I understood why it would feel like a betrayal of trust to insinuate he couldn't keep the kids safe.
"That's not what this is," I told him with a small smile. "Ryker works in security. He's paranoid, but his job also comes along with certain dangers. He isn't trying to keep Axel safe from you, but from other parties who might seek to harm him and see an opportunity where he's unprotected. It's just a formality."
He didn't look convinced, but he sighed. I knew he adored Axel, and who could blame him? My son was impeccably well behaved for his age, too serious if anything.
"Fine," he said, touching the top of his son's head. "Maybe the next sleepover can be here. Axel has told James all about his new room."
"That would be great," I grinned.
