Cease (Bayonet Scars Book 7)

Ryan's body shifts in his corner. I lean toward him and give him the same gentle treatment I did Ian. Ryan jerks in surprise and curls in on himself, as if my touch hurt him somehow. This poor boy. What kind of punishment does he get at home? I'm not here as a representative for just my son, but Jim's as well. Which is something he and I are going to have to deal with later, but for now, I'm their advocates.

"I'll agree with you there. The kid has a smart mouth, and he gets away with murder, but that doesn't mean he's somehow unfit to be around my son. He's a nine-year-old boy." Suddenly, I find myself protective over Ryan. I never want him jerking away from me like that again. Damn it. This whole situation is pissing me off, and not just at Jim for abandoning his responsibilities as a parent to be here, but at the principal who's just trying to help, and at myself as well for ending up in this situation. I have no business telling another parent how to take care of their kid, but Jim's negligence rings fresh in my head. My boy may not have had much, but he's always had me regardless of how fucked things were, and I have to believe that's the most important thing a parent can give their child. As I sit here and look at Ryan, I wonder if Ryan feels that kind of love from anyone.

"Thank you for bringing this to my attention," I say and stand from my seat. Mrs. Marsh blanches with my unexpected dismissal of the issue at hand. I'm not undermining the severity of bullying, and I'm certainly not condoning that behavior toward my own son. But it's not lost on me that neither boy is going to talk right now, so sitting here hashing out where Jim and I have gone wrong with our kids isn't going to help find a solution for either boy.

"Miss Buckley," she says, standing quickly and smoothing down her pantsuit. I can see the questions in her eyes, but I'm done and I need to get these kids out of here before my insecurities bubble over and I totally lose my shit on this poor woman. Without giving her a chance to protest, I lean forward and offer her my hand. She blinks once before snapping to and clasping her hand in mine.

"Boys, stand up and thank Mrs. Marsh for dealing with your shit." I mentally give myself a good, hard kick for cursing in front of their principal. Probably not the best way to convince people that I'm a fit mother.

Ian moves first, turning his stoic face to his new principal, and in a small voice, he thanks her. I wait a beat for Ryan to move, but when he doesn't, I clear my throat and tap my foot on the floor as hard as I can. His black hair swivels around slowly, and his gorgeous gray eyes lift to mine. He looks like a puppy that's been whacked with a newspaper. I'd be lying if I said that I didn't like the look on him. I'm not callous, but the kid is a disrespectful little shit to most people. Except right now he's showing me respect. And that matters.

Reluctantly, Ryan mutters something akin to a thank-you as he stands up. The three of us leave the principal's office without another word. I walk a few feet ahead of the boys, not interested in coddling either of them right now. I hated being called into the office when I was in school, and I hate it no less now, but I especially hate being forced to defend and punish a child that's not mine. I could fall into this way too easily.

I could take responsibility for Ryan. I could teach him and love him and show him that some parents are sweet and gentle and kind. I could do it, and I want to, so much. But he's not mine. And deep down, I know why I'm so attached to him, why I feel the need to protect him. He won't ever replace the hole my twins left in my heart, but he does make it a little less painful. I don't think I realized how much focusing on other people helps ease my soul until I met this little boy.

We make it to the damn Donna Reed minivan before the boys start bickering. I'm so lost in my own thoughts that I don't even know who starts it, nor do I care. These kids are going to drive me to drink. Pulling open the door to the back of the van, I turn to the boys and give them a damn mean glare to fit my mood. "Get this shit out of your systems now, because the moment we get to the clubhouse, I'm going to have bigger shit to deal with than this crap you two are pulling."

"The clubhouse?" Ian's voice is quiet as he asks the question. Ryan huffs and climbs into his seat. I take a deep breath and assure Ian that nobody is going to hurt him. He relaxes only a little, It breaks my heart that he has these fears, but I can't get into what happened at the school without Jim.

"My dad's gonna be really mad," Ryan says as well pull away from the school.

"I imagine he will be," I say, barely managing my own frustration at the whole thing.





CHAPTER 7


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