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I awake to my little man peppering kisses all over my face. A smile breaks out across my face and my heart does a little flip at how freaking sweet he is. I spend the next few minutes tickling him and playing before I get him dressed and ready for the day. I gather my things for a shower, then pause as I look at Dawson who is sitting on the bed flicking through his book. Normally I would leave him and shower if we were at home, but we’re on the second story and I’m scared that he may tumble down the stairs while I’m in the shower. Crap, I drop my clothes on the bed and pick Dawson up as I go next door to Leah’s room. I knock twice and wait.
The moment the door opens and I see Leah smiling at me the words burst free. “Could I ask a favor?”
“Of course, Val. What do you need?” I feel fucking horrible that I have to ask this of her.
“Could you please watch him while I take a quick shower. I swear I won’t be long. I’m just worried about the stairs if he came out of the room while I was in there and—” She cuts me off before I can continue rambling and making an even bigger fool out of myself in front of her and Darius.
“Val!” she snaps. “Go shower, wash your hair, do whatever you want, and take your time. Darius and I will take Dawson down and get him breakfast. Crue and Saint will love having the little guy to play with.” My eyes widen in surprise.
“Are you sure?” She grabs Dawson from my hold and rests him on her hip before placing a hand on my shoulder and smiling kindly.
“Yes! Go shower, and take your time. When you’re done, breakfast will be ready and waiting for you downstairs.” I feel tears building and try to blink them away.
“Thank you, Leah.”
“Val, we’re all here for you. Once you get to know the guys you will understand that we are family and we take care of our own. You and Dawson are ours now. Whatever you need, we got you.” Before the tears can fall I nod quickly and rush back to my room. I close the door and rest my head against it, feeling a sense of warmth wash over me. I’ve never had anyone to help me aside from Jeff, and I only ask for his help when I absolutely have to.
* * *
I do as Leah said and take my time in the shower. I can’t remember the last time I was able to actually wash my hair properly, and to top it off I shaved as well! I haven’t been able to complete both tasks in the shower at the same time since before Dawson was born. The shower head is freaking amazing and if it was detachable, my shower would have lasted significantly longer.
After changing and brushing my hair, I slip on my black yoga pants and slip my feet into my black Ugg boots before throwing on the off-the-shoulder cream sweater that I snagged for four dollars from the thrift store. Nothing I own is brand new, I can’t afford it but I try to get all Dawson’s clothes from Walmart when needed. His winter jacket is from the thrift store, I can’t afford the thirty-dollar price tag for one of those at the store.
I drop my toiletries in my room before I finally make my way downstairs, nerves thrumming through my body. I’m worried that they won’t like me and be salty that I’ve brought a kid into their rental for the holidays. I stop at the landing of the stairs and follow the sounds of laughter and conversation past the massive kitchen, it’s gorgeous and I envy the owner of this place. The things I could cook in there. I shake away those thoughts and plaster a smile on my face. As I round the corner into the dining room, the smile vanishes at the sight of him.
My heart pumps double time inside my chest at the sight of him holding Dawson. “Get the hell away from my son!” The room falls silent at my outburst. Beckett’s head snaps up and the moment his eyes collide with mine they widen a fraction.
“Valance…” he whispers my name. I rush forward and stop a foot away, I can feel the other’s gazes on me but my sole focus is on the bastard who is holding my son.
“Give him to me now!” I grit out, hating that I can hear the hurt in my own voice. I never thought I would see him again, not after that night, and yet, here he sits with his friends in this lavish house, happy and without a care in the world. My anger peaks the longer I stare at him, his pale green eyes shine with confusion as he looks from Dawson to me.
“He’s your… son?” Beck utters, barely above a whisper,
Shit.
“Yes.” I dart my gaze to Leah pleading silently for her to help me.
“Becky, pass me, Dawson,” she says but Beck ignores her, keeping his gaze fixed on me.
“How old is he, Valance?” His tone is laced with anger. My shoulders bunch as I ball my hands into fists at my sides.
“He’s… four.” Beckett’s brows jump to his hairline as his eyes widen. Dawson reaches for me and I lurch forward, yanking him from Beckett’s hold, clutching him against my chest and peppering kisses on his head. I look to Leah hoping she can tell from the look in my eyes that I need her help now more than ever. “I need to go home.” My words seem to be what snaps Beck out of his stunned state. He’s on his feet and closes the space between us. I tighten my hold on Dawson and crane my neck back to meet his angry stare.
“You aren’t takingmyson anywhere!” he snarls. Gasps break out around the room.
“Fuck you, Beckett, he isn’t yours!” A humorless laugh leaves him and I tense in preparation. Years may have passed but I know Beckett and that laugh means he is about to blow up at me.
“He isn’t mine?” I nod stiffly. “Right, so, Valance, why the fuck did you nameyourson after me?” I shake my head unable to speak as fear grips me.
“Oh, shit,” Darius mutters. “Beckett Dawson.”
Fuck!
“Please, don’t,” I choke out, shaking my head and fighting back the tears that are so close to falling. Dawson wraps his arms around my neck, clearly feeling the tension in the room. I try to take a step back only for Beck to take one forward, telling me he will chase me down if I run.
“You gavemyson my last name as his first name,” he shouts. Dawson wails in fright. I try to calm him and rub soothing circles on his back but he won’t quieten down. I need to find a way out of here now before Beckett tries anything stupid. “You’re not taking him anywhere!”
“Screw you, Beckett, you’ll never get near him,” I growl.
