Missing Dixie(64)

“I know,” she says somberly. “I’m trying to do that—focus on the positive. But Sheila said it could take a while to get the order in place, to make it to where his dad can’t have him. What if he has to go back there, Gavin? What if—” Her voice breaks before she can finish and I wrap my arms around her out of habit. Or maybe I need the comfort as much as she does.

“He’s not going back to Carl, to that house.” I can’t promise her much, but I can promise her this. I’ll break every bone in Carl’s body and put his ass in traction if I have to. Either way, he will never lay another hand on Liam. Dixie holds me around the waist for a few moments and I revel in the closeness. “I’m sorry about everything—about not telling you, about Ashley and—”

“You have to see her soon?”

I nod. “I do. I have to figure out how to pay her to defend me against the assault charges and we have to discuss my plea and what I can and cannot admit to.”

Her shoulders tense and I rub my face against hers playfully. “I’m going to pay her with money, Bluebird. Please don’t tense up. That way of life is in my past, where it will damn well stay. I’ll pawn my kit if I have to, get her to take that as down payment, and let her garnish my paycheck from the Tavern for the rest. I’ll figure it out.”

“How much will it cost?”

I shrug but Dixie’s eyes turn narrow. We both know this isn’t my first rodeo. “Two thousand—give or take.”

Before she can comment on the dollar amount, the screen door slams and Sheila and Liam return. Dixie pulls away from me and I try not to feel the sting of her absence.

We hear Sheila ask Liam to have a seat in the living room and then she joins us in the kitchen.

Dixie eyes her suspiciously. “Everything okay?”

Sheila nods. “Two things. Carl is out of the hospital and demanding to see his son, which is bad.” That is bad, but it means his injuries might not be extensive enough for me to get charged with anything too terrible. Not that I wouldn’t serve ten to life if it meant he never got his hands on his kid again.

“Okay,” Dixie says slowly. “What do we do about that?”

Sheila’s eyes tighten and I see the lines form on the edges. She’s probably in her fifties but she’s got tan skin, probably because she’s from Puerto Rico and she seems to have stopped aging years ago.

“Right now we’re going to tell him that Mrs. Lawson is lonely and truly enjoying her time with Liam and that we want to let Carl heal up a bit more before he takes Liam back.” Dixie winces visibly at the last part and I drape my arm across her shoulders. “If that doesn’t work, I’m going to see if I can expedite the protection order with a friend of mine at the police department.”

“What if your friend can’t? What if Carl shows up at Mrs. Lawson’s?” The panic is coming through Dixie’s voice loud and clear.

I tighten my grip on her. “Then I’ll—”

“You, sir, will do nothing,” Sheila interrupts, pointing a manicured finger at me. “I mean it. You are awaiting a court date for assaulting him and his order of protection against you is firmly in place.”

I frown but both women give me the do-as-we-say glare and I keep quiet.

“Worst-case scenario, Carl shows up at Mrs. Lawson’s and takes Liam home tonight. If that happens, we get an officer to check in regularly under the guise he’s making sure Carl is safe from Gavin.”

Dixie’s head begins shaking back and forth. “No,” she whispers until she finds her voice. Then louder, “No. You saw the marks yourself. He cannot go anywhere with him.”

Sheila takes a deep breath and glances at me.

“I know it’s upsetting, but Carl does have some extensive injuries and a concussion. It’s unlikely he’ll be getting physical with Liam.”

“Unlikely but not impossible,” Dixie clarifies.

Sheila nods. “Our other option is to place Liam in protective custody tonight and he can go to a temporary guardian until—”

“Can I be a temporary guardian?” Dixie interrupts. “Could he stay with me?”

I don’t know why this surprises me, but Dixie never fails to do what I least expect.

Sheila explains about the necessary paperwork and background check and Dixie demands to have it all right now so she can apply. Sheila gives her a Web address and Dixie lowers herself into a nearby kitchen chair and is online before I can say my own name three times fast.

I suddenly remember Sheila said she had two things to tell us. “What’s the second thing?”

“Liam needs to go back to Mrs. Lawson’s as soon as possible. If Carl were to find out he was here, with you here”—she pauses to gesture at me—“it’s likely he’d be more apt to demand his son back immediately.”

I hadn’t thought about that. Once again, I am the wrench f*cking up the works.

“He has to go now?” Dixie looks so disappointed that I want to leave so that Liam can stay. But I don’t want her here alone in case Carl does show up.

“I’m sorry,” Sheila says with genuine regret in her tone. “I can see that you two are obviously getting quite attached to him and I’m glad he has you and that you called me. But these types of cases don’t get settled overnight. There will be the issue of CPS assigning a temporary guardianship and then a permanent situation will have to get approved by a judge, and honestly, if Carl gets help and can convince social services he’s cleaning up his act, there will always be a chance he can get his son back.”