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CHAPTER 22
Skylar
As I sat in the front room while Hank read Luna her bedtime story, I folded laundry and tried to come up with a plan for Luna’s birthday which was in three days. But my mind just kept returning to my conversation with Richie’s parents.
Was it true that if he didn’t get the money he’d be killed?
Or was he just trying to manipulate them?
I would never have questioned Richie’s honesty before his addiction. But I didn’t know the man that he was now. He had an illness and it affected the lives of anyone who loved him.
I’d spent the past few years bailing Richie out of situations. I’d found him jobs that he always lost. I’d let him stay with us when he hadn’t had a place to live. And, sure, he’d stolen from me more times than I could count. But it had always just been what I’d had in my wallet. He’d never taken anything out of the bank before.
He must be desperate. He must be in real danger. Which only meant that my moving Luna and me across the country in the middle of the night had not been an overreaction.
I closed my eyes and saw flashes of what the apartment had looked like when I walked in and found it trashed. The slashes in the upholstery of the couch and the stuffing strewn all over the front room. All of the contents of the kitchen cabinets emptied out onto the tile flooring. The framed photos that lined the walls all removed and the backings ripped off.
Whoever had been there had been looking for something. Most likely the fifty grand that Richie owed them. A shudder ran through me and tears began to fill my eyes as I thought about what would have happened if we’d been home at the time.
“Are you okay?”
My eyes flew open at the sound of Hank’s deep voice. The heat of embarrassment crept up my neck as I wiped the moisture beneath my eyes and sniffed. He was going to think I was a complete basket case. And he wouldn’t be wrong. I had no idea what had happened to my fail-safe switch since moving to Firefly. It may have stayed in Seattle.
I began to fold clothes again and directed the conversation toward Luna. “Did she give you any problems?”
When he didn’t answer my eyes automatically lifted to his. What I saw in his amber gaze had my heart expanding. His eyes were brimming with concern. “What’s wrong?” he repeated the same thing he’d asked at the front door.
Part of me was tempted to tell Hank everything. To unload the burden that had been placed on my shoulders by Mr. and Mrs. DiNardo so I wouldn’t be carrying it alone. I wanted to tell him that they’d told me Richie’s life was in danger.
It was such a foreign experience to want to share anything with anyone. Normally, I liked to handle things on my own. I’d always been self-sufficient. When people told me I was “brave” for leaving Richie at eight months pregnant, I’d thought they were being dramatic. When they told me I was “so strong” for raising Ashley, I’d thought I was just doing what anyone else would have. I never gave myself credit for what I’d faced without any support.
And it was catching up with me. But there was no way that I was going to burden Hank with any of that. He’d done more than enough to ease my burdens and make my life better. And he had his own problems. I wasn’t exactly sure what was going on, but at the bar I’d overheard Reagan, Isabella, and Cheyenne talking about the death of Hank’s mom. Apparently, they’d hired a private investigator and the next steps were up to Hank to take, and they were worried he didn’t want to.
I’d only heard bits and pieces, but I hated thinking about him facing something that traumatic alone. So yeah, there was no way that I was going to pile more on his already full plate.
I shook my head. “I just don’t know what I’m going to do about Luna’s birthday. I had a party planned for her in Seattle. She wanted it to be a baby shower birthday party because my neighbor had a baby six months ago.”
“Tyson,” Hank interjected.
“Right, Tyson.” I should have known that Luna would have told him about Tyson. “Anyway, the party’s obviously not going to happen so I’m just trying to think of what I can do to make it special.”
I watched to see if he bought that that was the reason I was upset. I was pretty sure he had, he didn’t look quite as worried. But he wasn’t saying anything, so I filled in the silence.
“Did you read her the books you brought?”
Hank nodded and I could tell that he had something to say. I waited, but he didn’t speak. It was the first time I’d experienced what so many people had talked about, Hank’s silence. I wondered if he was withdrawing from me because I’d been so emotional tonight.
Rather than remaining in this awkward silence stare-off, I figured it would be best to call it a night.
I stood and started walking toward the door. “Well, thanks again so much for the books and for reading her bedtime story. She says that Mrs. Birch does a good job but she’s not you.” I let out a half-hearted laugh.
Hank followed me to the door and as he was walking out, he turned. He was standing close, only a few inches away, and he sent all of my senses into hyperdrive. The look in his caramel gaze had my head spinning, making it difficult to think straight. The scent of woodchips and aftershave had me leaning in to inhale more. And the warmth radiating off his body was drawing me to him like he was a flame and I was a moth. I felt myself drifting toward him when he spoke, drunk off his smell, his stare, and his heat.
“I read Luna five books. I’m sorry.”
“What?” My brain had short-circuited, and I had no clue what he’d just said to me or why he was apologizing.
“I read Luna five books.”
