I open my mouth to tell him that I wish I knew, but I decide against it. I’m supposed to be the adult here, and adults are supposed to have answers like this for their kids. Zander and I have never been in this situation before. I always keep him tuned in when it involves him. But this isn’t my show. This is his dad’s shit, and I don’t know what’s going on. I trust Wyatt to take care of us, though. He would never do anything to intentionally hurt us. I let out a heavy sigh and tell my boy we’re going to our new home. I don’t want him getting the idea that it’s cool to just take over someone’s entire life like Forsaken men are known to do, but I’m not going to condemn the club for it either, so it’s best I keep my mouth shut.
This situation is entirely new for my little family, so I do my best to put on a happy face. It doesn’t work—Zander sees right through it—so I give up halfway to town. By the time we’re on Main Street, breezing past a few neighborhoods I could see myself living in, Zander quips that this is basically a kidnapping. Jeremy’s jaw tenses, and he eyes my kid like he’s fixing to kick his ass or something equally as stupid, but he thinks better of it and just tells Z that it’s not kidnapping if you’re with your parents. Z doesn’t take kindly to Jeremy’s attitude, and he spends the rest of the drive giving him a dirty look but wisely keeps his mouth shut. Christ, I have one boy already. I don’t need another one on my hands, but it looks like these two are awful keen on giving each other shit, so it doesn’t really matter what I want.
By the time I chill a little about the looks Zander and Jeremy are giving each other, I realize that we’ve already been through town, and before I know it, we’re on Sherwood Road. I can’t imagine where Wyatt’s planned on moving us to, but I just hope it’s not too far out of town. It would suck to be out in the middle of nowhere—again.
Much to my surprise, Jeremy slows the SUV and turns down Riverdale Drive. It’s been years since I’ve been out here. I think Zander had just turned six or something when Grady had called, telling me Wyatt was on a bender. He must have been at the end of his rope. He had never called before, and he never has since. The only other time I’ve been called out to handle my man was when we conceived Piper. That time, though, it was Mishy who called at Ruby’s behest. I’d refused that time, but then he went missing, and I gave in. I may hate all the shit he’s put me through, but he’s the father of my kids. I didn’t have to like him or his behavior to help. Keeping Zander and Piper’s dad safe is the absolute least I can do for my kids.
“Thinkin’ too much, babe,” Diesel says, breaking the silence in the car.
I pull myself from my thoughts and fix my eyes on his. Wide, sympathetic eyes stare back at me the same way they did the day I turned up at the clubhouse to tell Wyatt about Z. I flush in embarrassment. Did my little trip down memory lane worry Diesel that much? The last time he looked at me like this I was in the middle of a panic attack. When I finally tear my eyes from Diesel, I find Zander’s body is completely still. He’s listening intently even if he appears to be looking out the window.
“Last time I was here, Wyatt had gone off the deep end,” I say honestly. I don’t lie to my kids, and even if the truth sucks, I’m going to respect Zander enough to give it to him. “I know he’s different now. I don’t doubt that. Just can’t always keep the memories at bay is all.”
The tension in the vehicle skyrockets. Zander doesn’t move, but his face forms into a glower. I probably shouldn’t have said anything. It’s an awkward thing, talking about my old man to his brothers, his men, but I can’t tiptoe around the reality of the situation with my kid. If the guys don’t like it, they don’t have to listen, much less talk to me. I’m being uncooperative and I know it. I have a responsibility to my kid to protect his heart as much as I can, and part of that means not lying to him about what being an addict means.
Pushing everything else mentally aside, I focus on the road ahead. The ground is a mix of loose gravel and dirt, giving the entire street a quiet, country feel. The homes are even farther apart here than they were before. They’re bigger, too. Grady got in on this neighborhood early enough and had the house built the way he wanted it, with some parts—like the garage—not being added on until later, thus making the whole thing more affordable than if he had bought it resale. One thing Dad always preached was investing. He encouraged his brothers to invest their money in something—mostly a house—because no matter how flush money may be at the time, the tides will turn and they’ll end up in the hole. My dad’s a real asshole, but he’s a smart asshole.