Ride Steady (Chaos #3)(104)

That was big for him. Huge. He’d take that seriously. He’d want to give it his all.

But it had nothing to do with me.

“This is not my problem,” I returned.

He nodded as if he understood, and while I was dealing with the surprise of that, he kept speaking.

“I know things are tough, they’re probably tougher with this move because the rent on this place can’t come cheap. I appreciate whatever sacrifice you’re making for our son to get him into a nice home. So in the meantime, until we can set up another meeting to discuss the changes we’re making, in Travis’s bag, there’s five hundred dollars in cash.”

I blinked.

Aaron kept going.

“If this case takes as long as I think it will, I’ll give you the same when I return Travis to you after his next time with me.”

“I—” I started.

“Take it, Butterfly,” Joker said quietly.

I saw Aaron shoot him another acid glance as I, too, looked Joker’s way.

“Maybe I should talk to Angie,” I suggested.

“You wanna talk to Angie, do it. But for now, take the cash,” Joker replied. “You can give it back if she says it’s a bad idea.”

“I know it’s none of my business,” Aaron said carefully, and I looked back to see he was addressing me. “But this is a really nice place, Carissa. I…” He shook his head and the next came out like he was forcing it to, “I’ve seen your clothes. Your car. I know you were unhappy having Travis in your old place and I expect you’re cutting even further back to give him this one. I’m asking you to let me help.”

At his words, something started building in me. A pressure I didn’t understand, but I knew it had to do with the fact that my ex-husband, who killed my dream and destroyed my life, forcing me to rebuild it and do it the hard way, felt sorry for me.

I shook my hair, straightened my shoulders and locked eyes with him. “I’m fine.”

“Let me help,” Aaron repeated.

“I’m not sure what you’re doing but if this is an actual wake-up for you, okay. We can sort that out through our attorneys. Until then, Aaron, I don’t need your pity.”

He flinched and I drew my son closer, his smell, his warmth, his little baby body giving me strength as he luckily seemed a-okay with twisting my top in his hand and alternately wetting it with baby saliva while all this happened.

“I don’t pity you, Riss,” Aaron said gently.

And again with the Riss.

Plus talking to me gently.

What was his game?

No, really, I didn’t care. I wanted him out of my house so I could have Travis (and Joker) time.

“You’re right,” I told him to get things moving. “It’s more expensive here. But my life has changed so it isn’t the sacrifice you think it is.”

“Carrie,” Joker murmured, and it sounded like a warning.

I didn’t heed that warning.

“And you’re also right,” I kept speaking. “It’s time I quit sacrificing. There are things Travis needs since he’s growing, like new clothes. And there are things that I need to take care of to make things a little less tight for me. But I’ll be seeing to those myself. If Angie says it’s okay, I’ll take your cash for Travis. But just so you know, I’ll be selling our guest room furniture, the bracelet your parents gave me, the bangles you used to give me, and our wedding rings. That should help me sort out some things financially, therefore you can stop feeling sorry for me.”

When I finished speaking, I stared at my ex-husband because he looked like he’d been struck, his face was pale, his eyes pained.

“You’re going to sell my bangles?” he whispered.

I couldn’t understand his reaction, but I had to admit, whatever it was, it troubled me.

So my reply was soft when I said, “Yes, Aaron. They’re mine, you gave them to me, but I don’t live the life they represent. Not the part where you gave them to me but also not the part where they fit the life I lead. I work in a grocery store. I’m not a lady who lunches who needs expensive jewelry. I need other things. So I’m going to make them useful.”

It was like I said not a word.

Aaron’s tone was nearly tortured when he asked, “Our wedding rings?”

My head shook automatically in startled confusion as I felt Travis fidget in my arms. I looked down at him to see he’d sensed his daddy’s strange dismay and was no longer focused on my top, but on his father.

That was when Joker was in my space, his hands on Travis.

I looked up at him.

“Deal with him,” he whispered, jerking his head Aaron’s way. “I got Travis.”

Then he did have Travis because my son was in his arms and he was walking away with Travis looking up at him.

I twisted to watch them head toward the hall, Joker muttering, “Wanna see your new room?”

Travis cried, “Dah, bah, buh!” and yanked on Joker’s earlobe.

That almost made me smile, but I didn’t when I looked back at Aaron, who was not watching Joker with Travis.

He was watching me.

“I don’t really understand your response, Aaron,” I told him and did it carefully. “But I’ll reiterate those things were given to me. They’re mine. I have uses for them, and I’ll be putting them to those uses.”