Hostile(69)

I know she won’t. “Thank you.” I feel a rush of guilt because I know she’s doing this for me. “You don’t have to do this . . .”

“Stop,” she easily quiets me, leveling me with a stern look. “I’m lucky, Rhett. You know that, right? I’m the lucky one to have Bree, Fletcher, and you as my kids. I lucked into all of you, and now, I’m adding Max and Ian to that.”

I snort and shake my head at her. “Why?” It’s the same question Ian asked her, the one I already know the answer to. But it still escapes my mouth because you’d think if she was really doing it for Rhys, she’d feel pretty damn satisfied with saving Bree, Fletcher, and me. More than. That’s three for one.

She studies me in a way that makes me squirm, and then a smile forms on her lips. “I don’t know how I’ll ever convince you of this, but I didn’t save you. I didn’t save any of you. You all came into my life, and you made it better. Yes, it gave me a purpose, but you gave me much more. So much more.”

“Pretty sure I gave you a hard time.”

She laughs. “And I gave it right back. I love a challenge. And I love you and Bree and Fletch. You guys and Rhys are my everything. I never wanted to fix you because you weren’t broken. You’re all strong, beautiful, and funny. Brilliant in your own ways, and I’ve loved watching you grow.”

I know she means it. “You’re crazy.”

She cackles at that, and I laugh, too, as she hugs me again. “Duh. And now, two of my sons are gone, and I’ve just stared and stared at those empty rooms, thinking there’s someone out there who may need them, and then, bam . . .” She looks back at the hospital room and then at me. “There are two boys who need a home.”

“They’re good kids.”

“I have no doubt. It’s not a coincidence or a hassle. Not something I have to fix, but two kids I get a chance to know. No child is a burden, Rhett. Not one. They came into your life and then into mine for a reason.”

“You and destiny,” I tease because she’s a huge believer in fate.

“You’re damn right.” She kisses my cheek. “I love you, kiddo.”

“I love you too. Thank you for doing this.”

She only smiles at me, confident and strong as ever, shooting me a wink before she heads back into the room to explain more to Ian.

I don’t know why I’m one of the lucky ones that got out. But I won’t deny Max and Ian the chance to do the same.





FORTY-SEVEN





The social worker is here, sorting out paperwork, and Ian looks dead tired as he answers more questions. When they’re finished, Blair gives Ian a kind smile. “You ready to go home?”

He bolts straight up in the chair now, his eyes on Max as he shakes his head from side to side in a panicky motion. “No. I have to be here when he wakes up. He’ll freak out. He hates hospitals. Please don’t make me leave him.”

Blair swoops to his side, pulling him into an embrace. “It’s okay, sweetie. You’re exhausted though. You had a horrific day, and you need rest.”

His bottom lip trembles as he looks at her, scared and unsure. “He can’t wake up alone. He can’t.”

“I’ll be here,” Rhett declares.

“Me too,” I add because there’s no way in hell I’m going anywhere.

Ian looks at both of us, still clearly worried. “He’s terrified of the dark. Don’t turn off the light. And he hates doctors.”

We both nod in assurance, and Rhett walks to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I promise you. We won’t leave him, and we’ll keep the lights on. Okay?” He kneels in front of Ian to look into his eyes. “Blair and Rhys, they’re such good people. I know it’s hard to believe, but I swear to you, they’re both good. And Bree and Fletcher will be there too. You’re in good hands or I wouldn’t let you go.”

Ian searches Rhett’s eyes—eyes I know are sure and full of strength. “Okay.”

We say goodbye as Blair hugs Rhett and promises him she’ll take good care of Ian and they’ll be back tomorrow. Then it’s just Rhett and me in the room with a sleeping Max. The nurse brings in two cot-like chairs, but neither of us lie down.

His body is thrumming with rage, and I can see and feel it from across the room as he stares at Max, who’s broken and beaten and lying in the hospital bed. “Rhett.”

He stalks to me, nearly manic. “It’s not fucking fair.”

His voice is quiet, but I hear the fury in it. “No. It’s not.”

“Why them?” He’s shaking, and I want to pull him to me, but I know he doesn’t want to be touched right now. He can’t be. “Why kids who’ve already had a shitty life? Why are they prey for men like that?”

It’s a rhetorical question. No one has the answer for that, and I don’t offer one.

“It’s not fair. They’re smart and funny. Good kids. They don’t deserve this.”

“No one does.”

His pained eyes meet mine. “You didn’t have to come.”

I nearly laugh at that because of course I did. Not only because I care about these kids, but because I can’t accept that Rhett and I can’t be together. All I’ve thought about the past month is him and how I want him.