Mason covered my hand briefly. The warmth and compassion in his fingers startled me. "Just . . . take care of your kid. The rest will come when it comes. We'll help you."
His kindness and willingness to give me a second chance pulverized me. For the first time in years, I finally felt free. I didn't have to worry about any male in my own home trying to get at me. I could just live, focus on my baby, and begin the rest of my life. Except, now that I could finally be me, I felt lost.
I had no idea who I really was.
Chapter 2
PICK
I had sacrificed a lot over the years to help friends out. I'd dished out my own hard-earned money to get people out of trouble. I'd gone cold all winter to make sure others had coats. I'd stayed up all night with a baby so someone else could get a little shut-eye before I had to head into work at the ass-crack of dawn the next morning. But I had to admit, I'd never given up sex for anyone before.
That's exactly what I was about to do.
Sitting outside the judge's chambers in the courthouse, I tapped my toe against the floor as Tristy and I waited for them to call our names. Next to me, she sneezed and scratched a spot on her shoulder. She used to scratch her arms all the time when she was tweaking. Drugs had made her do all kinds of weird shit.
Hoping she hadn't started that up again, I shot her a sharp glance as she dropped her hand. I thought I'd been careful, keeping a close eye on her. She said she'd been clean for the past six months. But I knew I couldn't watch her all the time, not when I was working two full-time jobs and pretty much only came home to sleep.
Catching my stare, she frowned. "What?"
I shook my head and turned away. She had assured me she'd stopped the drugs, so I chose to believe her. But she better not fuck with me on that issue, because I was sacrificing a lot—my fucking sex life included—to help her out.
Closing my eyes, I rested my head against the wall behind me and tried to remember the last time I'd actually had sex. The memory could be my way of saying goodbye to it for the next couple of months or—shit, I hoped not—years.
My buddies at Forbidden, the bar where I worked, thought I got laid damn near every night. While that might've been nice, it wasn't anywhere near the truth. Ten out of ten times, I didn't touch the girls the guys saw me take home from the bar, nothing beyond a hug or kiss on the cheek, because they were drunk when I drove their cute asses home. No self-respecting guy took advantage of a wasted chick.
I couldn't even remember the last time I'd been inside a woman, how long ago it had been or even with whom, so of course my mind brought up an image I never forgot. And it was as if I was still fourteen, being fed the glimpse by that old witch. I saw unique blue eyes first, then her blonde hair, her smile, the hint of lilac.
A sigh eased from my lungs.
My Tinker Bell.
But thinking about her—whoever she was—only made my chest ache. If Madam LeFrey were still alive, I'd look that woman up and cuss her out. It'd been ten years, and she still had me dreaming about those goddamn glimpses. Ten years, and I still wanted Tinker Bell to be a real person I could really meet. Ten fucking years, and I still thought my happily ever after might come true.
Fucking bullshit.
Wishing Madam LeFrey were toasting in a nice fiery pit in hell right about now, I opened my eyes when a small whimper came from the floor between me and Tristy. The car seat began to sway as the baby inside woke, thrashing his arms and legs.
Tristy moaned and sent the kid a glare. "God . . . damn it. He just went to sleep. Why can't he just stay the fuck asleep for ten full minutes?"
I scowled at her before leaning forward. "I got him." She didn't attempt to stop me as I pushed the handle out of the way and unbuckled him from his carrier. When he looked up at me and kicked his legs as if glad to see me, I couldn't stop a smile. "Hey there, Fighter. You have a good nap?"
Tristy snorted. "Like he's going to answer you."
I ignored her and focused on cradling the three-month old to my chest. He rooted around at my shirt as if he were seeking something to eat, which was strange. Tristy sure as hell had never breastfed him. I have no idea how the kid even knew he could get food there.
I chuckled and stroked my hand over dark curls. "You hungry, little man?"
Thank God Tristy didn't berate me again for asking him a question as I bent forward and dug inside the diaper bag to find the bottle I'd put in there before we'd left the apartment. I probably would've snapped something rude back at her, and grooms really shouldn't snap at their brides, especially on their wedding day.