Into the Blackness (Blackness Series Book 4) (30 page)

“Let’s just get him back on his feet,” I mutter.

She nods and runs into the blackness, leaving me behind with the sweet taste of her still lingering in the air.

Nick

“Get out!” I hear Kat bellow as I make my way to Sawyer’s room, causing me to break into a sprint.

I breach the doorway to find Kat making her body as tall and wide as she can in front of Sawyer’s bed where she’s kept vigil for the last eight days. There’s a tall, extremely skinny woman facing Kat with her back to me.

“You can’t keep me from my own son,” Sawyer’s mother, Patricia, growls.

Her blonde hair is stringy from the years of drug use, her frame sickly and drawn.

“Sawyer’s not your son anymore. Get the hell out of this room,” Kat seethes.

“Mom,” Sawyer’s voice shakes behind her. I can’t see him, but the tone of his panicked voice spurs me forward.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Kat coos at Sawyer.

“He’s calling for me,” Patricia scoffs at Kat like she’s an idiot.

“No he’s not!” Kat barks.

I step between Kat and Patricia, looming over the junkie’s face.

“Patricia, you need to leave. Sawyer is no longer your concern. Kat and I have custody, you know this. Your parental rights have been removed. Now, I’m asking you to leave without any further scene. Sawyer’s been through enough. He doesn’t need this stress.”

“Who the hell do you people think you are? You move into town and start stealing people’s children right from beneath them. I’ve called the Ashcrofts and the Benningtons, they’re coming home from Europe to get their boys away from you people before you ruin their families too. She murdered Harold and stole my child!” Patricia screams.

“Get out,” Sawyer growls behind us. Kat and I spin to look at him offering Patricia her first view of his healing body. She doesn’t even wince. CUNT!

“You’re my son. I’m not leaving and how dare you speak to me like that!” she wails.

“You’re dead to me. Kat and Nick are my parents now and they have been for months. I never wanna see you again. You were upstairs while he was beating me to death because I wasn’t home to check on you. This is your fault. You almost got me killed. My mother saved me. Not you. Get out!” he roars wincing in discomfort. His ribs are his sorest injury at this point even with pain meds.

“I was sick and you never even came to check on me,” she replies in a selfish pout.

“You’re a fucking drug addict that ran outta meds.”

“Sawyer,” she gasps, shocked at his honesty.

“Patricia,” he replies blankly, his brown eyes devoid of any love for the woman that gave birth to him.

“I need money,” she seethes. “He left everything to you.”

Sawyer barks out a laugh and then crumbles in agony. Kat lunges at the bed to help him get comfortable while Patricia looks on without a single concern on her face.

“I won’t give you a dime,” Sawyer fumes as Kat smoothes his long black waves away from his face. “Dad,” he says to me, needing me to step in.

“Time to go, Patricia. If you come back I’ll get a restraining order,” I say glaring into her hollow dark brown eyes.

“Are you gonna wave a piece of paper at me if I come back?” she asks defiantly.

“No. I’ll let my wife go to work on you like she did your piece of shit husband. Get the fuck out or I’ll move out of her way and let her get at you now.”

Her face pales at my threat before she squares her shoulders.

“I’ll be telling my attorney about that threat.”

“I’m sure a judge will believe a drug addict over me any day,” I snark. “Move!”

She jumps when I roar and makes a hasty retreat.

“You okay, bud?” I ask moving around the bed to take my chair.

“I’m fine,” he says through a small smile. “Thanks for that.”

“You don’t have to thank us for that. We’ll always protect you,” Kat assures him while she takes her seat across the bed from me. She might as well be an ocean away.

“I know. I’m ready to go home,” he huffs.

“Tomorrow,” I guarantee him.

“’Kay,” he says closing his eyes.

“Sawyer, you said you didn’t remember anything before the attack. How do you know Harold was mad because you weren’t home to check on Patricia?” I ask before he falls asleep.

With the head trauma he endured, the doctors have told us memory loss around the attack is normal and usually permanent. I’m shocked he seems to have some recollection of the events of that day.

“I remember him screaming ‘When’s the last time you saw her?’ at some point,” Sawyer says groggily.

“Do you remember anything else he said?” Kat encourages with a small squeeze of his hand.

“Huh uh,” he mutters before giving into the exhaustion and pain meds.

I pick up his hand and stroke the almost healed skin. This situation is horrible, but I’m going to use it for the op. I can approach the Bookers about domestic help now. To be honest, we actually need it…help, not a slave. Kat can only be so many places at once and she’s running herself ragged right now. She looks like she’s lost a little weight and she didn’t have any to lose in the first place. The circles under her eyes are darker, more haunting than the weeks previous to this. She looks tired all the time and that glow she always exudes is almost completely stoked out.

“I need to finish Christmas shopping,” Kat says bringing me out of my head.

“’Kay,” I respond quietly.

“Thanks for havin’ my back earlier.”

“Always.”

“Not always,” she scoffs. I drop my head and shoulders in defeat.

“I’m sorry, Nick. That was a cheap shot.”

“It’s fine,” I say dismissively. “I’ll stay here while you shop.”

“Are you worried about the Ashcrofts and Benningtons?” she asks softly.

“No. I’ll call Shane and have him get us custody. I figured Patricia would pull some shit like this so he’s expecting a phone call. I’ll get you the papers once I have ’em.”

“Really?” she asks disbelieving, her hazel eyes swimming in confusion.

“What?”

“You’re gonna do that?”

“Kat, I know you think I’m a piece of shit and you’re right, I am. But I love the boys as much as you do. I won’t let them be taken from us. Not without a fight. Their parents have abandoned them for months. Even if we went the legal route, no judge would side with them. It’s a non-issue,” I assure her.

“Mindfuck,” she mutters for the first time in a month.

“Back at you, Sunshine,” I say through a small smile.

She snorts, but the corners of her mouth tip up.

“Are you guys gettin’ divorced?” Sawyer asks sheepishly. FUCK!

“What?” Kat asks horrified, realizing Sawyer just heard our very honest interaction.

“You guys haven’t been right for weeks. I’m sorry I was eavesdropping,” he whispers.

“We’re fine. Just a rough patch, sweetheart. It happens in all relationships. Nick and I will work it out,” she lies.

“You’re good at that,” Sawyer remarks plainly.

“What’s that?”

“Lying.”

“I…” Kat trails off. Shit.

“It’s okay. I’m used to bein’ lied to. I know you have your reasons. But if you guys get divorced you won’t send me back to her will you?”

“No,” I answer immediately, pinning him with a fierce gaze.

“Good,” he says relieved.

Kat has tears brimming in her hazel eyes as she stares at Sawyer guiltily. She’s good at lying, but her mask hasn’t been as expertly crafted as it usually is. She’s too worn out with reality. It’s my fault. Now I feel shittier than I have for the last month.

“Sawyer, I’m not lying to you. Nick and I are fine. We had a bad fight a few weeks ago and we haven’t gotten over it yet, but we will. We’re
not
getting divorced. I just need to get you home and get through the holidays. Then I can fix things with Nick.”

“You said you needed to work out custody the first day I was in here,” Sawyer says with an accusing glare.

“I’m sorry you heard that. I was just upset after your attack. I didn’t mean it,” she states strongly.

“Promise?” he asks with need in his voice.

“I swear,” she says honestly.

My head is swimming right now. What the fuck? She’s saying the things I want to hear, but I have no idea where this is coming from. Is this just for his benefit? That would be cruel and horrible to do to him. She would never lie right to his face like that. She doesn’t have it in her.

“You fucked up, huh?” Sawyer asks me.

“Yeah, bud.”

“You won’t leave us, right?” he asks nervously.

“I’m not a quitter. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

I hold Kat’s eyes with an intense gaze after I answer him. She gives me a small smile. My heart pounds so hard in my chest it hurts my ribs as I maintain eye contact and soak in the soft glow coming from her. What just happened?

“Merry Christmas!” the four boys bellow in unison, bursting into our bedroom.

“Merry Christmas, boys,” Kat coos at them from her side of the bed.

Jake, Cole and Dane jump on her while Sawyer watches from the end of the bed with envy in his chocolate eyes. His ribs are too sore to dog-pile his mother. Kat giggles and wiggles to get away from their assault.

I climb out of bed and wrap Sawyer in a hug, carefully.

“Merry Christmas, Dad,” he murmurs into my shoulder.

I haven’t gotten used to the feeling of him saying that yet. It feels like a shot to the heart every time I hear it and he says it a lot, as if he’s reminding himself that he has parents that love him for the first time in his life. It’s one of the greatest things I’ve ever experienced.

“Merry Christmas, bud,” I mumble into his messy black mop.

The boys stop attacking Kat and help her out of bed. She secures her robe before wrapping her arms around Sawyer.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” she whispers before pressing a long kiss to his cheek. “Let’s go see what Santa brought us.”

“Yeah.” The boys light up like little kids.

Our house looks like the North Pole threw up on and in it. There’s garland everywhere with red twinkle lights embedded to look like berries. I’ve lost track of how many wreathes and Christmas decorations line the walls at this point. It smells like cinnamon and pine throughout every room in the house. It’s warm and inviting, offering much needed comfort for my family.

We have three Christmas trees, because why not, I suppose. Outside is a winter wonderland of lights and decorations that you can see from outer space. We descend our embellished staircase and head into the family room where Santa was fucking busy last night. Santa’s a bit tired this morning.

The boys run to their stockings and start ripping through them. Kat and I sit on the couch next to each other and watch with huge smiles on our faces as we peruse our stockings. She grabs my hand and interlaces our fingers. I’ve gotten something small like this from her every day in the last week since we got Sawyer home. I always let her lead and never push for more. Kat only does this in front of the boys, but it’s not a mask when she does it. This is real. She’s letting me back in.

“Presents now or after breakfast?” Kat asks as the boys finish their stockings.

“Now,” they all answer in unison.

Kat went nuts with gifts. Well, we all did really. We got the boys a ton of clothes, Celtics, Bruins and Red Sox tickets. Skateboards, video games, new sports equipment, snowboards and surfboards round out most of their gifts, capped off with a family trip over Spring Break to Tahiti. We over did it and it feels unbelievable.

The boys got me ties, denture cream (ha ha), tee times at the country club for the entire season, a humidor for my cigars and a year of monthly whiskey delivered from the best distilleries around the world. I’m blown over.

The boys got Kat the most expensive tracksuits on the planet. Can someone explain five hundred dollar sweat pants to me? I saw that receipt when the boys got home from shopping and almost passed out. It’s worth it though, because Kat looks to be in heaven imagining wearing them. Totally worth it. They also got her a spa weekend, a year of manicures and pedicures and a book of pictures from the months we’ve been together. That almost made her cry when she opened it, but she held it together. I think the next present will send her over the edge.