Josie splays her fingers on the table. “But what if she doesn’t leave him? Most women in her situation stay with the monsters who beat them.”
“You can’t force her to do something she’s not ready to do,” Dan says. “All you can do is let her know that she has a safe place here if she needs somewhere to go.”
Josie chews on her lip, and I know Dan’s answer isn’t good enough for her.
I know this because it isn’t good enough for me either.
Dan stands and brings his plate to the sink. “I have a video conference with a client. I’ll be in my office if you need me. We can finish talking about this later.” He bends down and plants a kiss on the top of Josie’s head.
As he walks into the hallway, a loud, gurgling semi-explosion sounds from the tiny human sitting next to me.
Josie and I whip our heads around to look at him.
Lucas giggles. “Poopy.”
Josie’s head falls onto the table with a groan. “Sure. Wait until Daddy’s gone.”
I pull up the neck of my shirt to shield my nose. “God, that’s foul. What are you feeding this kid?”
She lifts her head to glare at me, and for the first time since I’ve been here, I realize how tired she looks.
Before my sister moved out to California, she and I were a team. Our family didn’t have much, but we stuck together and helped each other out. She was my best friend for a long time, and I felt the significant loss when she left. She started a new life with her new family, and I’d resented her for it. I assumed she cared about money, expensive homes, and luxury cars more than she cared about the family she left behind.
But looking at her now, at the table full of dirty dishes waiting to be washed, the toddler screaming her head off upstairs, and another one who I’m pretty sure just shit the motherload up the back of his onesie, while the older boys play downstairs, undoubtedly turning the basement into a disaster zone ... it gives me a different perspective on Josie’s life here. One I couldn’t appreciate without seeing it for myself.
We used to have each other’s backs.
I guess we still should.
I toss my napkin onto the table and push out of my seat. “Clean your kid’s ass. I’ll be right back.”
I jog halfway down the basement stairs and peer at the boys over the railing. “Hey. Your mom needs help. Get up here and clear the table. Brandon, you wash the dishes, and Miles will dry. You got me?”
The boys drop their video game controllers and follow me up the steps without a complaint.
Then, I suck in a deep breath and make my way up to Serenity’s bedroom.
The poor girl’s voice sounds raw from all the screaming she’s been doing. Her cry cuts off when I step into her darkened room. She eyes me warily through the slats in her crib as I flip on the small lamp on the nightstand in the corner.
“You’re makin’ a lot of noise for someone so small,” I whisper, taking tentative steps toward her.
Immediately, her arms shoot up for me. My chest cracks open, and I wince at the physical pain.
Fuck.
No, I can do this.
I need to do this.
It’s for Josie.
I reach into the crib and scoop Serenity up into my arms. She buries her face in the crook of my neck and fists my T-shirt in her little hands. I rub my hand along her back, and she releases a tiny sigh.
Tears sting my eyes, but I will them away.
I can do this.
I carry Serenity to the rocking chair by the window and lower us into it. She snuggles against me as if she can’t get close enough. I rock her gently as I continue to rub circles on her back.
Grief strangles me while agony sears my insides. The feel of this little life in my arms, her warmth, her innocence, her pure light … it’s too much. I squeeze my eyes shut, desperate to cling to the remaining threads of my sanity, but the tears spring free. A sob chokes out, and I squeeze Serenity tighter.
As if she knows, as if she can understand my sorrow, she lifts her hand and presses her palm to my wet cheek.
I’m not sure who’s comforting who anymore, but it feels like we both need this.
And then, without even thinking about it, I start to sing. It’s a song I know well, the lyrics haunting me every night along with the ghosts of my past.
I only get halfway through the song before Serenity falls asleep in my arms, but I sing it all the way through.
A while later, the door cracks open, and Josie tiptoes inside, slowly lowering a sleeping Lucas into his crib.
“You got her to sleep,” she whispers.
I nod. “She’s been out for a while.” I ease out of the rocking chair and bring Serenity to her crib.
Josie places her hand on my shoulder. “Thank you so much.”
I nod as we gaze down at her sleeping angel.
“How do you do it?”
Josie tilts her head. “Do what?”
“How do you sleep at night?”
Understanding and sadness washes over my sister’s face. “It’s not easy. I check on them, all of them, at least a dozen times. I wake up in the middle of the night and creep into their rooms, making sure they’re okay.” She smiles. “Sometimes Dan is already in here. He worries too.”
My eyes burn, and I swallow around the boulder that’s forever lodged in my throat.
Josie edges closer. “Cole, what you went through ...”
I shake my head violently. “No.”
“Please, let me just say this. Once, and you’ll never hear another word from me again.”
My fists clench at my sides, and I grit my teeth, bracing myself for what she’s about to say.
“No one should ever have to go through what you and Penny did. It’s not right, and it’s not fair, and I’ll never understand why things like that have to happen. Never. But it happened.” Her eyes bore through mine in the darkness. “Somehow, some way, you have to pick yourself up and move forward. You can’t stay stuck in this purgatory of torture and self-loathing. It’ll take some time, but you can start a new life. Find someone new, start a family. Try again.”
She pauses, gazing at Serenity and then back at me. “I see how much you love her. How much you love my kids. You could make an incredible father someday if you just allow yourself to have that.”
“Yeah, Father of the Fucking Year.” I move to pass her, to get out of this room, out of this house. I need air.
Josie grips my forearm. “Cole.”
I remain staring straight ahead, waiting for her to finish.
“Nothing that happened is your fault. You hear me?” Her fingers tighten, biting into my skin. “Nothing. That happened. Is your fault.”
I shake her off and get out of there as fast as I can.
Twelve
Cole
Four Years Ago
I wiped my sweaty palms on my slacks.
Yeah, I was wearing dress pants.
Hoped I didn’t look as ridiculous as I felt.
The fancy French doors swung open, and Annette, one of the maids, greeted me with a smile.
“Cole, what a pleasant surprise! Come in.”
“Thank you, Annette. How are you?”
“I’m well. Is there a dinner I don’t know about? Where’s Penny?”