Page 52 of Breakaway

“He actually serves a lot of purposes,” I retort, a sickly sweet smile twisting my mouth. Raiden’s eyebrow quirks with interest, likely wondering if he’s imagining the innuendo. I’m definitely embellishing on the nature of our relationship, which will no doubt only feed Briggs’ delusions of the future he envisions for the two of us, but it’s worth it to see his obsidian eyes alight with happiness. To witness his body relax under the assurance that he’s not dispensable, at least not to me.

“She especially likes that thing I do with my tongue,” Briggs stage whispers. “I doubt she’d get rid of me for the sake of that particular talent alone. Good try, though.” He gives Raiden’s shoulder a condescending pat. My jaw drops, not expecting his dirty exaggeration.

Give the man an inch, he takes a mile.

“Oh, thank heavens,” Roy interrupts dramatically, using his T-shirt to wipe the sweat from his forehead. In his current state, it’s easy to picture him as the owner of a well-established construction company. I’m so used to seeing him impeccably dressed, with a coordinating bowtie to boot, preferring to leave the manual labor to his employees now that he’s nearing retirement age. But it’s obvious he has no qualms with getting his hands dirty, based on the thoroughly worn work clothes he’s sporting, having spent the better part of the day emptying Raiden’s spare bedroom. “I’m famished.” Roy smacks his stomach, going straight for the plate of burgers. I doubt they’re even warm still, but he doesn’t seem to care.

“Perfect timing!” Rita shuffles through the front door, several bags of chips balanced precariously in her hands. Dayton follows a few feet behind, gripping a pack of buns and a beer. Our gazes meet as he brings the bottle to his mouth, absently kicking the door shut. He never breaks eye contact, his tongue darting out to lick away any alcohol left behind. That heated intensity he elicits comes surging back, eviscerating all the work I just did to banish our moment on the roof to the farthest recesses of my mind. I quickly look away, surreptitiously checking to make sure no one else bore witness to Dayton’s unraveling of my faculties. Thankfully, everyone appears to be preoccupied with fixing their plates.

But something tells me this thing between us is just getting started. It’s going to be a full-time job redirecting his attention, not to mention Briggs’ insistence that we’re destined to be together. If he catches wind of Dayton’s outright claiming, I’m certain his response will be akin to a shark scenting blood in the water. All bets will be off, and every wall I’ve erected to keep the lines of our friendship from being blurred will come crumbling down in the face of his calculated propositions. I can’t even bring myself to think about the moment I had with Raiden in the kitchen this morning, the sight of him on his knees an aphrodisiac of its own.

And Colsen–sweet, calming Colsen who knows exactly what to say when I start to panic. But that day at The Village, when it was just the two of us, his flirty side made an appearance, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious about how filthy his mouth can get. There’s too much chaos surrounding my life right now to even consider entertaining the idea of a relationship. My focus needs to be on Hudson, on the kid in my stomach whose due date is fast approaching. And yet I can’t stop thinking about them.

I’m still reeling from a single kiss, my touch-starved body begging me to pull Dayton into a darkened corner and take what it’s demanding. It’s been so long since I’ve felt the faintest trickle of desire, and now that I’ve had a taste, I’m terrified there’s going to be no way of closing the floodgates. No stemming the flow of my urges, my fluctuating hormones taking control with no interest in relinquishing power to my brain. I just have to stay steadfast in my reasoning, knowing no good can come from us partaking in the carnal thoughts flooding my mind. Things would get really messy, really fast, and our friendships mean so much more to me than simply satisfying an urge that I can take care of myself once I’m alone.

30

Andilyn

The repetitive sound of my feet padding across the floor serves as background noise to my racing thoughts. Combined with the erratic beat of my heart, I’m a symphony of poorly restrained anxiety. I check the clock–again–my fingers twisting nervously as I watch the second hand eat away at the remaining time before the CPS worker is expected to arrive. Most of our Sunday was spent running around town, gathering the last few things we needed to ensure nothing on the list we were given went unchecked. We didn’t complete the finishing touches on Hudson’s room until late last night, but sleep was impossible to come by, regardless of how exhausted I was.

“Your pacing is making me anxious,” Raiden jokes, the lighthearted comment doing nothing to alleviate my stress. “We’ve done everything by the book and perfectly executed their demands. There’s nothing more they could ask of us. Just take a deep breath, minha luz.” Logically, I know he’s right, but none of that matters if Hudson’s caseworker doesn’t agree as well. This person, this stranger, has the ability to wreck everything I’ve busted my ass for over the past thirty-six hours, so it’s a bit difficult to relent and accept that we’ve done all we can do. Not when there isn’t a limit on the lengths I’ll go to ensure Hudson comes home to me the way his father intended him to.

I keep double-checking all the child-proofing we did, making sure the knives are safely tucked away and the latches we added to the cabinets haven’t suddenly become defective. Next, I examine the extra lock attached to the main door, just in case Hudson decides to try his hand at becoming an escape artist. The steps leading to the upstairs loft give me heart palpitations when I think of his tiny body trying to tackle them on his own, but we’ve added a baby gate to ensure that doesn’t happen. I had no idea so much work went into prepping your home so it’s a safe environment for a child. I’m sure these are things most people learn about through reading baby books or joining a new parent support group, but I didn’t have the luxury of easing into this.

I’m doing my third check of the cabinets, the one harboring enough cleaning products to engage in chemical warfare getting an extra close inspection, when a light knock causes me to jerk upright. My eyes meet Raiden’s, a fresh wave of panic causing my muscles to tighten painfully. A strangled sound escapes me as he makes a beeline across the room, his hands framing my face so he can tilt my head back and be the sole recipient of my undivided focus.

“Look at me,” Raiden commands, holding his phone out between us, my gaze tracking his finger as he presses a button that engages the speaker function. “We told you you’re not alone, and we meant it. Now say a quick hello to these assholes so they’ll stop their incessant whining. They’ve asked me for an update no less than a dozen times, despite our appointment time having just arrived.” His feigned annoyance isn’t convincing in the slightest. They might not be the best of friends, at least not all of them, but Raiden respects what the others have come to mean to me, so I know he isn’t as bothered as he pretends to be.

“Angel, I’m just across the courtyard,” Briggs rushes out. “And the moment that horrendously dressed woman is gone, I’ll be breaking the door down.” At the sound of his voice, the fear bearing down on me starts to abate, and the oppressive clutch that uncertainty has me bound in begins to loosen as the others start to chime in. Somewhere in the background, Raiden calls out to the social worker that’s patiently waiting to begin our assessment and lets her know we’ll be right there, buying us a few more seconds for me to sort myself out.

“How the hell do you know what she’s wearing?” Dayton questions derisively. “For fucksake, Briggs. Please tell me you aren’t lurking in a bush somewhere, glaring at the woman who’s simply doing her job? Intimidation tactics aren’t going to endear her to our plight, and God knows the sight of you alone is enough for her to dock a few safety points. Your presence brings down the property value, so maybe it’s best you make yourself scarce. K, pumpkin?” His condescending tone has no effect on Briggs, ill or otherwise. Dayton’s well-aimed jabs seem to roll right off the typically hotheaded man. Whether he’s biting his tongue for the sake of my sanity or he’s genuinely trying his best to be less combative, I appreciate his effort to keep their bickering from escalating.

“Actually, I happened to pass her in the courtyard. I’ve just returned from fetching Andi her favorite pastry, because I had the forethought to come prepared, knowing her appetite would surface as soon as this little inquisition was put to rest,” Briggs explains, his faith in today’s outcome unwavering. I wish I could summon a shred of his confidence, but as it stands, my nerves are wound so tight the thought of food makes me nauseous.

“Okay, children,” Colsen chides, finally joining the conversation. “You have nothing to worry about, Andi. That interviewer would have to be blind to miss how dedicated you are to giving Hudson the best life possible. Just be you, Sunshine. The rest will fall into place.” I exhale raggedly, hoping his words will infuse me with some much-needed bravado.

“We’ll call you guys back as soon as we’re finished,” Raiden cuts in, wrapping up their impromptu pep talk. I haven’t muttered a single word by the time he ends the call.

He places his hand against my lower back and steers me towards the front door, not giving me a chance to delay this any longer. My heart is thundering so furiously I can’t hear anything else. Not Raiden’s hushed encouragement. Not even my own thoughts can penetrate the noise, my vision tunneling to the barrier that separates us as it’s eased open, revealing a short and stout woman, her graying hair spun into an artful beehive. A few brightly jeweled barrettes are pinning some strays in place, her rhinestone eyeglass chain adding a bit more mayhem to the mix. Briggs’ comment makes a lot more sense as I catch a quick glance of her outfit, not wanting to make my perusal too obvious. The jumper-style dress she’s wearing is a rainbow of colors, paired with a thick knit cardigan and black buckled loafers that resemble something a founding father would’ve worn.

“Andilyn Adams?” she questions, pressing a clipboard to her chest as she extends her free hand for me to shake.

I clear my throat and answer with a simple, “Yes.”

“It’s lovely to meet you. My name is Doreen Milsap, and I’ll be conducting your assessment today.” Her kind eyes put me at ease, and I step aside so she can join us as Raiden introduces himself. “Well, Mr. Cortés, I think it’s wonderful that you’ve continued to offer your support to Miss Adams as she transitions through such a trying time. You’re a great example of our tax dollars being put to proper use,” Doreen preens, proud to see one of Chaplain’s finest honoring his promise to protect and serve–though I’m certain Raiden’s involvement in my life has nothing to do with his title and position. One could argue that his attention and care go beyond the call of duty, but there’s so much more to our relationship than that. Defining what we are to a virtual stranger isn’t something I’m keen on doing, so I smile politely, neither of us speaking up to correct her assumption.

“Sorry we kept you waiting.” I don’t offer an explanation because I don’t really have one, but she pats my arm lovingly as she steps around me, her astute gaze scanning the room thoroughly.

“No worries, dear.” Doreen taps her fluffy pink pen against her thigh. “Let’s begin, shall we?” Without waiting for my response, she starts a casual stroll around the apartment, making note of the safety locks we’ve added to the console cabinet resting below the TV. Aside from a few DVDs, Raiden has several packs of batteries stored inside one of the cubbies, so I thought it’d be wise to keep little fingers away from those. Once I’ve explained this, Doreen hums in approval but suggests we find an alternative storage area, somewhere less accessible, just in case Hudson were to figure out the locking mechanism.

“You’d be surprised how smart a toddler is when it comes to getting into things they aren’t supposed to,” she laughs lightly. “I swear, their determination grows exponentially when they’ve been told something’s off limits.” Doreen’s wistful tone makes me think she’s reminiscing about her own child’s wily ways, though I’d hazard it’s been several decades since she experienced that particular stage. We move towards the kitchen, rehashing her suggestion to relocate anything that poses a potential threat as we come across the cleaning cabinet.

“I’ll add some shelves above the washer and dryer,” Raiden offers easily, like it’s no sweat off his back to rearrange his home, completely unbothered by any hiccups we come across. The way he sees it, there’s nothing that can’t be fixed to the State’s liking. That he’s willing to meet their demands without an ounce of frustration is astounding. He’s a perfect catch–gorgeous, financially stable, with a promising career he excels at. Not to mention his compassion and kindness are plentiful, emphasized by him pressing pause on this amazing life he’s built to help me get my own back on track.

“Perfect!” Doreen beams, striding towards the room we’ve put together for Hudson.

I trail behind her, my pulse skyrocketing as she pushes through the door. I glance around, attempting to see it through new eyes, despite having sat on the floor for hours, pouring over every detail until I was convinced it was perfect. His new bedding, a mix of navy and ash blue, is tucked neatly around his mattress. A small dresser is positioned on the opposite wall, anchored in, just in case Hudson gets a wild hair up his ass and decides to become a climber. I think that’s one of my most confounding issues. I have no idea who he is. I never got to witness the innocence he exuded before Tobias decided to inflict on him a lifetime of trauma. I’ve gathered tiny morsels of information from Seth, but relaying it secondhand can’t compare to experiencing his actual personality. I just hope it hasn’t been snuffed out entirely, and given time, maybe everything that made Hudson who he is will eventually make a reappearance.