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A woman in the same uniform as the lady was at the front desk earlier when we arrived comes inside, pushing a rollaway crib, handing Vincent a stack of sheets and an extra blanket, before nodding at his thank you and walking out. He closes the door, once again quick to lock the extra lock before pushing the crib into the same room he carried everyone’s luggage into earlier.
He hasn’t said anything to me since demanding I hand over my keys so he could get the suitcases. It hasn’t gone unnoticed that he still hasn’t returned them. I haven’t been brave enough to ask for them back either.
Somehow, he makes me feel safe in a way that calms me enough to make me aware that I didn’t even realize just how unsafe I’ve felt. For the longest time, there’s been this sense of fear that’s just beneath my skin. I don’t know if it was because of this big secret I’ve kept from everyone for so long, but even knowing I have to face him eventually, there’s also a sense of relief with him where Sutton is concerned.
He hasn’t asked me to leave yet, but I know the crib isn’t a bid to tell me I can stay either. It only proves that he has no intention of letting Sutton leave. I don’t know how much interaction he’s had with mothers, but he’d have to kill me before I let him take my child from me.
Seeing him stand across the room, keeping a watchful eye on us, makes me wonder if I’m letting what I read online about Cerberus cloud my judgment. No one is as calm as he’s acting, at least not anyone I’ve ever come in contact with. He doesn’t seem to be getting angrier like a man stewing on the limited information he has. The control is more than a little intimidating.
When Luca is done eating, I send him to the bedroom for a bath, quick to leave the living room to make sure he has what he needs. He plays longer than he should, but I don’t complain because the longer they take getting ready and going to bed, the longer I can put off having the conversation I never wanted to have with Vincent. I give Sutton a quick bath in the bathroom sink while Luca splashes and plays in the tub.
“Maybe use some soap on your body instead of just letting it float around you,” I suggest to Luca before leaving the room only long enough to place Sutton in the rollaway crib.
She fusses a little but calms quickly as I rub her back. It’s much later than she normally stays up, and her little life has been chaotic since Luca and Jace came to live with me.
I’m covering Sutton with her favorite tiny blanket when Luca cries out for me, his screech loud enough to draw Vincent to the bedroom door.
“What’s wrong?” he snaps as if he suspects I hurt the little boy.
“Soap in my eyes!” Luca screams.
I find him rubbing soapy hands on his eyes, making things worse.
I quickly turn the water back on and urge him to lean his head back under the flow to clean his eyes. I fully expect Vincent to be standing in the doorway, making a mental tally of how easily I keep fucking up, but he looks more concerned than anything.
“Are you alright?” he once again asks Luca because I’m not worthy of his attention being directed at me.
“Y-yeah,” the little one says, finally able to blink his eyes open without wincing.
With that news, Vincent leaves the doorway. I help Luca out of the tub, refusing to complain as I grab an extra towel and dry up the mess he’s made.
“Pajamas and then bed,” I tell him.
He nods dutifully. The child isn’t very trusting of others, but we’ve come a very long way from his hiding behind his brother to at least not screaming when he realizes he’s alone in a room with me.
“I’ll make sure we get the tear-free stuff. I’m sorry I forgot to grab it from the apartment.”
He gives me a weak smile before lifting the towel and haphazardly attempts to dry his hair.
When he realizes it’s still dripping wet, he allows me to dry it with the blow dryer before he dashes out of the room to tell Jace it’s his turn to get clean.
Jace is next, opting for a shower because heaven forbid the child actually acts like a kid. It’s one of many things I’m mad at my sister for. He’s had to be too responsible too soon in his little life, and there’s no telling what issues that will cause him later on in life.
“Be careful,” I warn before heading out of the bathroom. “It’s not tear-free.”
He scoffs as if he’s more than capable of using soap and not getting it in his eyes.
It’s a credit to Janet that Luca still needs tear-free shampoo. If she were a hundred percent neglectful, he’d know how to wash his own hair without getting soap in his eyes, and if he did, then he’d be less likely to freakout the way he just did. The woman I knew was such a good mom, I frequently made fun of her for her dedication to her family. She never wanted an escape. In the first year after I had Sutton, she just frowned at me if I complained about being tired or needing a little time to myself. She took her role as a mother and wife very seriously. I still can’t fathom why she’d risk their safety by getting involved with Keres.
I freeze before leaving the room, realizing that maybe she was involved to protect them. Vincent told me that they expected the payments for the manufactured drugs even though they were dead. I have no doubt that Adrian Larrick threatened the lives of those boys in order to get what they wanted. It makes much more sense that they were forced into doing what they were doing rather than starting it and then somehow getting tangled up in the middle of that sort of stuff.
“Goodnight,” Luca says from the bed, his little body already buried under the comforter. “Thank you for the pizza. I love gooey cheese.”
“Of course, buddy. Sleep well.”
I turn out the light but leave the door open. I’ll wait to close it until Jace is out of the shower. As self-sufficient as he is, he’s still a child. I want him to know I care for him and will make sure all his needs are met to the best of my ability, but the gratefulness in Luca’s voice about something as simple as a cheese pizza makes my heart ache.
I could get angry that it’s possible his parents couldn’t afford pizza, but it’s also a slap in the face to know I wouldn’t have been able to afford it either. Being at your rope’s end makes it so much more understandable how people end up in certain situations. I know my sister would’ve done anything to take care of her kids, including manufacturing drugs in an effort to drag themselves out of whatever hole was created when Carlen lost his job.
