“You don’t have a dog?” Dillon asked as if it were some sort of crime. “Why not?”
“Wouldn’t want it to be alone all day while I’m at work.”
“Because you live alone?”
“Yeah, Lil’ Dill. Because I live alone.”
He sent me a look that nearly broke me in two when he said it.
The starkest sort of loneliness bled out.
Most unsettling part was the hope brimming in the middle of it, as if maybe he had the intention of changing that.
Oh lord, I could feel that fork in the road coming up fast.
Left or right.
Dillon went scampering up the side steps and onto the porch while Maxon ducked back into the truck. He murmured a bunch of words that I felt more than heard, so gentle with his son as he unbuckled him from his special seat and helped him get his crutches adjusted after he settled him on the ground.
“There. How’s that? Are you steady?”
“I’vvvve got it.”
“Watch out for the gravel. It’s loose,” Maxon warned softly.
“Stoppp worrying so much.” Benjamin sent him a sly, knowing grin from over his shoulder, and Maxon sent him an adoring one in return, and my world was trembling on its axis.
So close to toppling over.
Benjamin slowly made his way up the steps.
I stood beside Maxon and watched our son go.
That feeling rushed over us.
Attraction and want. Flickers of old affection that had become somethin’ new.
Awareness and regret.
I forced the words out beneath the pressure of it. “Thank you for takin’ him today. I hope it wasn’t too much trouble.”
I realized my arms were hugged over my middle when I said it. My stance and my words nothing but a defense.
Because I could sense it all slipping away.
“He’s my son, Izzy.” His words dropped low in emphasis. “My son.”
A shiver raced my spine, and my voice came soft. “Sometimes, I watch him just . . . walkin’ . . . and joy explodes in the middle of me. I spent so many years worried that he wouldn’t be able to run and play. Seeing him like this? It feels like a miracle.”
“He is a miracle.” Maxon’s tone was as jagged as the gravel under our feet.
I glanced over at him.
The sight of the man was nothing but a thief sent to steal my breath.
“Maxon—”
“Need to tell you something.” He cut me off.
Anxiety pulsed through his body. It sent a hammer of dread assaulting mine.
My teeth clamped down on my bottom lip, and I struggled to prepare myself for what he might say. That yes, Benjamin was a miracle—wonderful and inspiring and kind—but that it was all too much.
Nothing I hadn’t heard before.
I could handle it, right?
“The day you left when you came and took care of me?”
My brow pinched.
Not what I was expecting.
Fury blackened his expression, rage bustling beneath the surface of his skin. “Found my truck busted up that afternoon. A slur spray-painted on the side of it. Think I’m being targeted.”
I whirled around to face him.
“You think whoever hurt you that night was responsible?”
They knew where he lived?
Terror raced.
Taking over.
The thought of something horrible happening to him more than I could process.
His hands curled into fists. “Don’t know for sure, we’re still waiting on the prints, but my gut says yes. Could just as easily be some neighborhood kid playing a prank. But I won’t take the chance. Won’t let my guard down.”
He inched forward. “Need you to know what’s happening before you walk through that door. What being around someone like me means. Last thing I ever wanted was to drag you into my mess. Never wanted this for anyone. And when it comes to you, I don’t know how to stop myself.”
There was his fear again.
Though, in that moment, I was feeling it, too.
Fear for him.
For the life he led.
The danger he faced at every turn.
Respect seeped from my pores. Respect for the decision he’d made to turn his back on the path he’d been slipping down when he’d been getting caught up in the ugliness.
But I had to wonder if he were doing it for the right reasons.
“I’m not afraid for me, Maxon. I’m afraid of you racin’ toward danger just because you think that’s what you deserve. That you have to pay a price. Prove who you are. I think that’s pretty clear.”
What was I sayin? Did I mean it? Could I look at him and see who he truly was.
But I was sure that I always had. I hadn’t been the one who was blinded. It was Maxon who’d gotten lost.
“That’s because you were the good in my world. The light that chased out the dark. You never wanted to acknowledge what was hidden underneath.”
There was a warning in the rumble of his words, and I turned my attention away, needing a breath.
Not sure how we were ever gonna meet in the middle.