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“I brought a car seat. I’ll go get it.” He winked. “But first, do you agree to my terms?”
“I guess.” I kissed my son’s head. What choice did I have?
My son tugging on my hand jerked me back to the present. He bounced on his toes as he peered into the cabinet, giddy and happy like all little boys should be. But me? Despite the joy he brought me and my love for him, I was bitter.
I had nothing left of my life before Rocky had disappeared. No friends, no family, and no hope of ever changing my situation.
I counted to ten before I exploded in a fit of rage.One, two, three…The muscles in my neck tightened.Four, five, six, seven…Tears stung my eyes as I bit my tongue until I tasted blood.Eight, nine…I wouldn’t let thoughts of Rocky control me or ruin this weekend.
Stop it, Ella. Think of Rockson.
Exhaling a calming breath, I patted my son’s back as he fogged up the glass bakery cabinet, drooling over the pastries.Ten.
“Have you decided which one you want, buddy?”
He shook his head.
“Okay. Take your time.”
As he bobbed his head, I ran my fingers through his wavy brown hair and willed my mind to fucking stop. Of course, when it came to Rocky Jones, the bastard could always overpower me, physically and mentally.
Once upon a time, I had loved to be dominated by him. I’d craved his sick, twisted games and kinks. I would’ve followed him to the ends of the earth if he’d asked. But he hadn’t.
“Are you ready for Easter, Nevada?” Shirley asked from behind the counter. It annoyed me when people called my son the nickname Vegas had given him. He had told me it was dumb to name my son Rockson. That it’d only make me think of Rocky. It was true, but to call him Nevada? Vegas’s suggestion had been purely selfish. At the time, I hadn’t wanted to anger the VP. He’d been the only one to help me, and I couldn’t lose him.
“Yes! I have a blue basket for the egg hunt.” My son smiled and jumped like a little monkey, and he hadn’t had a lick of sugar yet. Lord help me. Tomorrow he’d be pinging off the walls after the festivities.
“That is fantastic.” Shirley looked at me. “He’s getting so big.” She studied him for a long beat. It made me uncomfortable because I knew she saw the similarities between Rockson and Rocky.
“Yes, he is.” I put my arm around my son’s shoulders. “Pick your treat, buddy, so we can go.”
“I pick apple pie!”
“One apple pie coming up.” Shirley happily hummed as she packaged the pie.
I couldn’t breathe, feeling punched in the gut by my sweet boy. He had no idea what he’d done. The memories he’d made race back by his innocent selection. I turned away for a second to get ahold of myself.
“Here you go. You two have a wonderful Easter,” Shirley said.
“Thank you!” Rockson took the pink box and proudly held it.
I dug a twenty out of my purse.
“No, no.” She put her hand up. “It’ll go on the tab.”
“Shirley, I can pay for my own pie.”
“I’m sure you can, but why worry about it when it can go on the tab?” She just didn’t get it.
“Because I can take care of myself and my son. I don’t need him to pay for everything.”
“Then take it up with Vegas. I have my orders, so I’ll put the pie on the tab.”
Tears burned behind my eyes. I wanted to bitch her out so badly, but I refrained. It wouldn’t do a damn bit of good. Only upset her, me, and my son.
“Come on, Mommy,” Rockson called as he approached the exit.
“Yes, buddy. I’m coming.” I glared at Shirley and left with my son in tow. She didn’t deserve my nastiness. Nobody in this godforsaken town should be blamed for my choices and situation. I should understand the community’s plight more, but how could I when I was so miserable?
