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“You’ll tell her when you’re ready. We each have a story to tell,” Wyatt replies. “But I will say this—somewhere deep down, I think she already knows what we’re made of. And she still wants us. Just like we still want her. Nash and all.”
“Speak of the devil, we still need to sit down and have a discussion about him. We need to consider every single possibility, because Colby Nash is not someone we can just brush off. The same goes for his mother.”
Wyatt pours himself another drink. “I agree. There are legal options and there are not-so-legal options. As soon as Colby set fire to that diner he declared his intentions. Loud and clear. Halle doesn’t stand a chance against him on her own.”
“I’m not sure the legal system can protect her.”
“If it could, she wouldn’t be here.”
The situation is complicated and messy, to say the least. There are too many unknown factors, too many uncertain aspects for us to navigate. We can’t keep Halle and her children hidden away here forever. The kids need socializing with people outside of their family circle. Halle needs a life of her own. A career. A routine that she can peacefully work through on a daily basis. Passions and hobbies. A fucking life.
She will never have any of that as long as Colby is free and close enough to hurt her. And she did not escape from one gilded cage to end up in another. I want Halle to feel free and happy with us, not like she’s stuck with us because her other option is a raging lunatic.
Darkness settles outside.
I catch a glimpse of the night sky. The moon is rising to the east, a glowing pearl that carries a whispered message. It is the quiet before the storm, I can almost feel it. My skin tingles whenever I leave the house. Colby may not be anywhere in sight but he’s lurking nearby, his presence lingering like an ominous cloud.
This must be how Halle has been feeling since she ran away from the guy. Constantly on edge. Always anxious and looking over her shoulder. Bated breath as she waits for something bad to happen because nothing good ever came out of her life with Colby except for Luna and Sammy, who deserve so much more than what that fucker gave them.
18
Halle
More than a month has passed since my encounter with Colby.
We have been extremely vigilant but recently I decided to let the kids go back to daycare while I resumed my job at the firehouse. We were getting restless. Knowing that Dallas PD had received a few tips confirming that Colby had skipped town helped me make my decision. He likely bolted when he heard about the BOLO that went out in his name.
I don’t think we’re anywhere close to being out of the woods yet, but the Danson brothers have been by my side every single day. I feel safe enough with them to dare live my life, safe enough to allow more for my kids.
My body has been on overload lately from all the stress that I’ve been dealing with. There is no amount of lovemaking, not even with these veritable studs of mine that can heal what is bothering me on a deeper level.
Until Colby is apprehended and convicted of his egregious crimes, until he is stripped of all of his parental rights, I will continue to struggle. There is still a high chance that he or his mother could take me to court for custody of Luna and Sammy.
Which is just one of the reasons why we’re keeping our relationship a secret. Society wouldn’t understand, and I would be the first to fall. They’d call me terrible names. They’d shame me and ostracize me. Social Services would have a field day ripping what’s left of my life apart, and they would no doubt try to remove my children from my custody.
It would give Harriet and Colby the ammunition they need to obliterate me.
I thought I’d feel better if Eric, Chase, and Wyatt knew the truth but I am still constantly on edge. I can’t get enough sleep. There are moments when I catch myself dozing off behind my desk. At other times, the alarm snaps me out of a dream without a hint of mercy.
Mornings are the hardest.
I can barely function, and managing the little ones before Marie comes over to pick them up for daycare has become a real mission. I’m hungry all the time yet I can barely keep anything down. Nausea tests my limits daily while my feet drag in the afternoon.
Today in particular has been exceptionally difficult though I’m not sure why.
It’s not until I reach the kitchen area of the firehouse that it hits me. The smell of Danish cheese from the fridge nearly sends me over the edge. There’s nothing wrong with the cheese itself, there’s nothing wrong with any of the food in the fridge. No, what is wrong with this picture has everything to do with me. Every smell in this room makes me want to hurl.
“Oh, no,” I mutter to myself.
I’ll need to stop by a drug store on my way home.
“We’re having lunch in a minute,” Eric says as we cross paths in the kitchen. “What are you looking for?”
“Oh, just some water,” I reply with a smile and grab the pitcher to bring it over to the table in the dining area. I love the view from up here, the dining area overlooks the firehouse garage. The four red trucks are parked in a perfect parallel row, equipment waiting on each side to be loaded or placed on the vehicle as soon as a call comes in. Until then, however, we’re going to sit down and enjoy a Holt-made lunch. “What did the chief’s wife cook for us today?” I ask Eric.
“She baked bread.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
