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“Mom, you need to go back to bed,” Jack said.
I’d sat on a bar stool, head in my hands to close my eyes for just a moment. Now that I opened them, the table was cleared, and Jack was standing in front of me, Lily beside him, her large backpack dwarfing her small frame.
Shit.
“I need to take you to school,” I argued.
Jack raised his brow in a very adult kind of way much like his father had done to me many times when I’d tried to argue about something that even I knew was bullshit.
My heart hurt. Screamed, rivaling the pain in my skull.
“I’ll call someone,” he countered. “Grandma Olive can take us. Or Mrs. Gwen or Grandma Evie. Just not you. You need bed.” He said this firmly. In a tone that brokered no argument, again, much like his father.
I sighed, holding back the tears I really, really didn’t want to shed in front of my children. The ones who were somehow stronger than their mother. Smarter too. As I was about to surrender my phone to my boy’s outstretched hand, a knock sounded at the door, making me flinch.
Jack glanced toward the door with his father’s face on. “I’ll get it.”
“No!” My own shout caused me so much pain I almost threw up my four Advil and two cups of coffee all over the carpet. “No, honey,” I repeated, softer now, which took quite a bit of effort. “I’m going to answer the door, okay?”
Though Amber was safe and the club was not in any kind of danger anymore, my instincts wouldn’t let my son answer the door, no matter how grown up he was acting.
Every step was agony. My vision blurry, the floor was tilting and my brain felt like it was growing while my skull was shrinking.
The sunlight assaulted me when I opened the door, causing me to flinch back on reflex. The person standing in front of me was nothing more than a large, dark, blur.
“What the fuck?”
The voice was familiar. Worried. And much, much too fucking loud.
I was doing my best to get it together so I could answer, but a small person beside me was quicker.
“Mom has a migraine,” Jack explained. “She gets them sometimes. Dad used to put her to bed, and we would leave her in the dark until she got better. But...” he trailed off.
My heart hurt once more. No longer did the pain there rival that in my head, it superseded it.
But he was dead now, that’s what Jack was going to say. His father was dead, and he wasn’t quite sure what to do. All he knew was that he needed to take care of me.
“Okay, I’ll get your mom to bed. Make sure she’s got everything she needs, then I’ll get you to school. Sound rockin’?” It was Kace who spoke.
I was about to argue with him, but he moved past me. My vision was better now since Kace had shut the door before he’d finished speaking. I didn’t process how it happened, but suddenly, he was right beside me, his arms around me.
“Can you walk?” he murmured, speaking as softly as possible.
“Yes,” I snapped, making the tone loud and grating, trying to sound much stronger than I was.
It didn’t work because I swayed as I said it, and Kace’s hands tightened to steady me.
“Why don’t you go and make sure your sister is ready to go, and I’ll get your mom into bed?” Kace asked.
Jack frowned, folding his arms. “I can help her,” he argued.
I smiled at my son, at him not being ready to hand over responsibility to someone else. “Sweetie, it’d be so much help if you went to get your sister ready,” I pleaded gently.
Jack looked to me, then Kace, then back to me again. He nodded once and walked away.
Kace wasted no time in piling me into his arms as soon as my son’s back was turned. The movement was quick and gentle, but I still couldn’t hold in my whimper.
“I know, baby,” he murmured.
My teeth sank into my lip, drawing blood during the rest of the short journey. Kace moved quickly, depositing me into bed with the utmost care. Then he moved to close the curtains, his footsteps heading to the bathroom followed by the water running. I kept my eyes firmly shut and did my best not to move.
His footsteps came back then something cold and soft settled over my eyes.
“You got any pills, drugs?” Kace asked softly, rubbing my hair.
“Don’t work,” I murmured. “Just have to ride it out.”
“Fuck,” he hissed.
“I’ll be okay,” I whispered. “Just need dark. Sleep. Call Olive. She’ll take care of the kids.”
“I’ll take them,” he said.
Fuck. I couldn’t think around all this pain. I needed cool darkness. Quiet. But I also couldn’t leave my kids in the hands of the man I’d been fucking.
