Giving them space, he walked to the other side of the table to place hefty servings on their plates. Keeping track of the kids with his peripheral vision, he watched Kelly help Shiloh onto the chair, noting she had to sit on her knees to reach the table. Dammit, she needs a booster seat, just like the car. Another strike in the “Owen doesn’t know shit” column.
Kelly climbed onto his own chair, perching on it as if it were the barstool, feet on the seat and knees drawn up underneath his shirt. It was startling to see that both kids had made themselves as small as possible. Less of a target. Owen dipped a serving of salad onto each plate, then held up the dressing he’d carried to the table earlier. Both kids nodded silently, and he drizzled it over the greens and tiny tomatoes. Standing upright, fists planted on each hip, he considered the table before snapping his fingers. “Drinks. I’ll get them. You can go ahead and start if you want.” He turned away and grabbed three glasses, filling them with ice and water from the dispenser on the front of the refrigerator. When he returned to the table, neither child had moved, and he frowned as he set the glasses next to the plates. Shiloh was poking at her fork with a finger, studying the implement intently.
“Want me to cut up your lasagna?” She lifted her gaze to him and nodded slowly. “Okay, sweetie. I can do that.” Owen went to lean over her and grab his fork and knife, but the moment he did, she cringed away, a tiny sound of distress escaping. Crippling pain ripped through him at the idea of her being afraid of him. “Oh, honey. It’s okay. I can go over there and do it.” He stepped to the side, but she stayed crunched into a folded-over position, head resting on her knees. “Shiloh, it’s okay.” He turned to look at Kelly and found himself on the receiving end of a blistering glare. Can I fuck up more tonight? “I promise, I will never ever hurt you, sweetheart. Promise, you’re safe with me.”
He made his way around the table and, from that distance, moved her plate towards him, cutting the food into bite-sized pieces. What had happened to the little girl who trusted him enough to sit in his lap, allowing him to dress her, to take care of her? She trusted me because Kelly did. Covertly, he studied the boy who was still glaring daggers at him. I told him I wouldn’t be his forever safe place. Clearly, that had been enough to shift the boy’s attitude, and Shiloh was sensitive enough to pick up on it. The little girl was paying the price of Owen’s fears. Shit. He knew of only one way he could fix this, but his lifestyle didn’t support having children, and he didn’t have a network in place to pick up any slack.
Pushing Shiloh’s plate back in front of her, he retrieved Kelly’s next and began cutting up the boy’s food. He held Kelly’s gaze as long as he could, trying to read the boy. Angry and hurt. No, not angry, Kelly’s afraid. He’d basically told the boy that he’d be sending them back into the same system that had betrayed them before. Of course Kelly would be afraid. If it happened once, it could happen again, and Owen swallowed hard at the memory of Shiloh’s tiny face staring up at him over her roughly bound wrists.
I don’t have anyone to call on here.
Placing Kelly’s plate in front of him, Owen went to his chair and sat, then mechanically dished up lasagna for himself.
I do, however, have Alace.
Shiloh unfolded slowly and lifted her head, staring at Owen through tear-clumped lashes. Kelly nudged her with his elbow, and she picked up the fork, struggling to grip it in her hand. Owen watched as she managed to maneuver a bite onto the fork’s tines, making a tiny sound as it tipped off and tumbled back to the plate. Owen cleared his throat, ensuring he had both kids’ attention before he dropped his fork noisily to the table. The lasagna had held its form fairly well, cut into tidy cubes. It had also cooled sufficiently to be handled comfortably. Finger foods it is. He lifted one with his fingers and stuffed it into his mouth, sucking sauce from his thumb.
Kelly dipped his head to hide his expression and nudged Shiloh with his elbow again. A moment later, all three forks were back on the table, and the kids wore matching grins, slight though they were, chewing through their first bite of lasagna.
I can’t have any second thoughts. If I’m in this with them, then I’m in it. No takebacks with these two. He’d already seen the results any kind of boomerang could have.
Kelly glanced up, and while he continued chewing, the grin slid from his face, leaving him looking bereft and sad.
Nope, not on my boy’s face. That kid deserves only happy.
Owen could put the hunt for the cop on the back burner. I can even job it out. The search for the others in the sibling pedophile ring could literally be done from anywhere. Honestly, Alace has better toys and resources. The lease on this house was month-to-month, and it would be the work of only a few moments to set about closing down his life here. His electronics and weaponry were the only items he wouldn’t want to leave behind. The kids were scarcely settled as it was. Shit, I could pack ’em up in only a couple of boxes at this point.
Owen watched Shiloh for the space of a few moments. Marchant had been clear that she’d need assistance, probably long term, and had offered up as much of his time as would be required. Surely Alace has a doc in Colorado we can shift her care to. That sucked because Owen wouldn’t have minded working with Marchant more. The man was conscientious and didn’t appear to balk at the wrong side of legal when kids were the winners in the end.
Am I gonna do this?
He studied the faces of the two kids at his table, happily eating a crappy frozen dinner with a nod towards healthy by an added handful of lettuce. They deserved more. They deserved a family. I can’t give them that, but I can give them me.
“What do you think about moving to Colorado with me?”
Hope and excitement bloomed in slow motion across Kelly’s face, and Owen knew in that moment he’d turn himself inside out to ensure he got to see the expression again and again.
***
Alace
Lila’s cry pierced the air, and Alace lifted her head with a groan as she mentally gauged the distance to the bassinette. Moving slowly, she shifted her legs over the edge of the mattress and placed her feet well apart, ensuring she would be steady before she shoved off the bed and to an upright position. She sighed and cupped her belly with one hand, standing in place until the pain subsided.
Two shuffling steps later, she bent over the baby, who was angrily waving her mittened fists in the air, having escaped her swaddling. Again. “Shhhh. I’m here. I’ve got you.” She lifted the infant as Eric rounded the door from the hallway, a panicked expression on his face. “I’ve got her. She wiggled out of the blanket again.” They’d found Lila wouldn’t sleep without being swaddled but also hated being swaddled when she woke. There was no win in this situation so far. “She should eat again.”
Alace turned in place and backed up to the rocking chair positioned only a couple of feet away, groaning again as she descended faster than intended, her bottom impacting harder than was comfortable. My body’s a mess. The whole process of giving birth made more sense now, yet it felt like as big a mystery as ever before.
“Every muscle in my body hurts. I moved my ears earlier and found out my scalp is sore.” Lila rested in the crook of one arm as Alace maneuvered clothing to expose a breast. “And I guess my milk is starting to come in, because these things are hard as rocks and hurt.”