A few weeks ago, I overheard Maggie and my dad talking downstairs in the foyer.
“Stephen, please. You need to stop hurting him. You said you love me. Do you hurt the person you love? Cole is a piece of me.”
My dad growled and said, “He took you away from me. If you weren’t pregnant with that. . .him. . .” he stopped and took in a long, deep breath. The next words that came out of his mouth made me realize that my father had gone mad. “You and Benjamin are no longer together. But you still refuse to come back to me.”
“We were kids, Stephen. We didn’t know what we wanted.”
“That’s where you’re wrong!” he bellowed.
Maggie had tried to talk to him, to dissuade him, but he’d gotten angry and shoved her out of the door.
My father had spat something in a low voice before slamming the door shut.
I clear my head to get rid of that memory and focus on a plan to see Cole.
I STARTLE AWAKE, THE STIFFNESS in my arms sending pain through my body. I try to stretch my arms but some sort of weight holds them down. Lifting my head, I squint in the dark to see Cora and Joce snuggled at my sides. It was almost ten o’clock at night when we finally arrived home from the hospital. Nor didn’t want the girls to sleep alone, so they ended up in her bed. As soon as Joce’s little body hit the mattress, she held up her arms for me and I fucking cried as I scooted between her and Cora. I pulled them to me so that their heads were on my chest. I held them as sobs racked their bodies until they fell asleep. I must have dozed off as well, unaware when Nor left the room.
Carefully, I slide my hand out from under the girls’ bodies and inch out of bed. The room is dark so it takes a while for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. Nor must have decided to turn off all the lights and went to sleep elsewhere in the house since I took up her place on her bed.
Once I find my bearings, I shuffle to the door, turn on the light in the hallway and pull my phone from my pants pocket. I turn on the camera and set it to night mode, tiptoe back to the bed and snap a picture of my daughters. They look so adorable, sprawled on the bed with their faces relaxed in sleep.
According to the clock on the nightstand, it’s past one o’clock in the morning. Turning around, I head out of the room and walk downstairs. My breath stalls when I see Nor’s petite frame curled on the couch, her focus on the shopping channel running on TV. Suddenly, she lifts her head and looks over the couch but then averts her face quickly, wiping her cheeks. She twists her body slightly to the side and turns on the small lamp on the side table.
Shit.
I can’t stop looking at her. Even when crying, she looks so damn beautiful.
“The girls are asleep.” I shove my balled up fists inside my wrinkled pants pockets to stop myself from walking over and pulling her into my arms. She looks so heartbroken, so scared. I glance around for her sisters. They arrived a few hours ago after we came home from the hospital.
“Elon and Elise are already in bed,” she says, as if reading my mind.
I nod, my thoughts momentarily wandering to Stephen. My hands clench tighter and I want to bust some balls with my fist, just thinking about that sick son of a bitch.
He completely ruined my life and made Nor’s life a living hell. I really need to know what happened, then I can track down that bastard. When I was in prison, I tried to stay away from trouble as much as I could. But if trouble followed me, I dealt with it without hesitation. I learned fast how to use my fists. I also learned how easy it was to choke the life out of someone. Watch life fade from their eyes. I never killed anyone, but it didn’t stop me from showing them I could do it without blinking an eye. I came so close to losing my own life several times. I learned that respect had to be earned.
I earned it.
Pain shoots from my cheek and I realize my jaw is clenched too tight. I pull my hands from my pockets and sign, “I have to go.”
Nor nods once. “Thank you for today.”
We stare at each other for several seconds, the air heavy with our loss. My brother. Her husband. I turn and walk toward the door.
After putting on my shoes, I glance over my shoulder one more time and my fucking chest explodes with pain.
I can’t leave her like this. Her shoulders are shaking and her head is bent, her hair covers her face, hiding the pain tearing her apart. She’d held herself together the entire afternoon after Josh died, never allowing herself to show any weakness.
Pushing away from the door, I stride back and sit on the couch before pulling her in my arms. I expect her to push me away, but she doesn’t. She wraps her arms around my waist, hugging me tight and then tucks her head into my chest.
Jesus. Feeling her body shake against mine breaks me. I wish I could absorb her pain through my skin.