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“I don’t deserve this life with you. I know that . . .” Her lips parted to argue, but I forged ahead. “I don’t. But I need you to know that I will fight for you. My right to happiness—the light in my soul—died on that dark highway, but somehow, you brought me back to life.”
“Not at all. I just . . . I love you too. A lot.” Her eyes opened and searched mine. “I just really don’t want to divorce you.”
“Uh . . . I don’t have a therapist, bud.” Ben hummed as he frowned over his food. “Oh . . . well, maybe you should.”
“A Sullivan? Are you serious?” Royal lowered the phone. “You want help or what? He can just stand in the back and look scary, but we’re fucking doing this.”
It looked as though the Kings and Sullivans were coming together to send a message that no one fucks with us and gets away with it.
Duke spat on the ground next to Jared, glaring down at him. “You picked the wrong family to fuck with. You’re common enemy number one now.”
Everything in my life was made of tinder, and Russell King had lit a match.
“There isn’t a choice,” I said again, more firmly. “When it comes down to it, it’s them.”
One thing I knew for certain: Russell King disappeared my ex-husband . . . just like he’d done with Abel’s mother.
Bax’s clear eyes bore into me. “You’re good for her. You light her up. The kids too.”
But, I remember you told me that I should talk with a therapist. I listened and found someone to set up an appointment with.”
“But therapy is fun. You play with toys and talk about your feelings, and sometimes she’ll tell you little tricks to feel better when you’re scared.”
“Talking about my feelings is hard sometimes.” Ben’s hand landed on my shoulder with a thump. “Harder than keeping them inside?”
“You were grieving. You had just lost a child. I—” “Abel . . . you held his hand when I couldn’t. I never thanked you for that.”
Meatball nodded. “Right on, man. Tell her the best part.” He slid the bottle across the table, and I picked it up. “Look at the artwork.” Brewer’s Wife was across the front of the label, but I recognized the illustration style immediately. My eyes flew to Abel’s. “Did Tillie draw this?”
Abel widened his palms. “Look, I promised Tillie a new wedding so she can wear a fancy dress. My hands are tied.”
“You’re going to let the State of Michigan grant us a divorce just so you can appease a seven-year-old?”
“But I love the ring I have.” Abel smiled and shook his head. “You’ll keep it. My mother was the first woman I ever loved, and you’ll be the last. Her ring belongs to you. The diamond is just because you deserve some sparkle.”
Royal’s grin spread. “I don’t know . . . I don’t think she likes me.” My face scrunched. “Why are you smiling like that?” Royal’s shoulders bounced. “I kind of like them feisty.”
Do not mess with the one woman who’s helping us out of Dad’s mess. That woman looks like she would crush your balls and smile about it.”
