Emotion sloshing like a flood.
Coming at me from every direction.
Bright and dark. Beautiful and ugly. Hopeful and sick.
Standing there, it all fell over me, why I’d pushed Izzy away in the first place. Wondered what had changed. Petrified I wasn’t any better than I’d been then.
But I was determined to be, whatever it took.
Izzy was clearly worrying over the same thing, the girl chewing on her thumbnail as she shifted on her feet.
Ready to intervene at a second’s notice.
Become a physical barrier between me and her kid if that’s what it required.
Hurt, but I got it.
Accepted it.
Dillon had his hand on the railing as he flew down. Somehow, his words flew faster. “Mr. Chambers. You came! Are you feeling better? Mom said you got sick. Do you hate being sick? Nana said that old people get sick all the time and need medicine. Are you old? You don’t look old. Do you need medicine?”
Halfway down, he skidded to a stop, and his brown eyes grew wide with shock when he caught sight of me.
Bruises littering my face. Bandage over my eye. With everything else, I’d almost forgotten about what had gone down last night.
He gaped at me for a second before he shot back into action. “What happened to you? Did you get in a fight? Did you have to arrest someone? Were they bad?”
Felt like I’d been swept up in another one of those tornadoes. A perfect disarray touching down, kid shifting everything in his path.
My insides were a tangle of emotions I wasn’t even close to being able to put my finger on. “Might have gotten into a fight with a couple bad guys.”
Left out the part that they were still out there.
He came to a stop a foot away, a massive frown wiping the happiness from his expression. “Did they hurt you? Nana has a special bag in the freezer that makes it better, but I really think it’s the love she sends with it that does the trick. Do you want me to get it for you?”
Fuck, there went my heart, banging in my chest.
An uproar that didn’t know where to land.
“That’s okay, little man. Looks worse than it is.”
It was everything else that was making me feel like I’d gotten a fist through the chest.
Izzy moved to his side and ran her fingers through his hair.
“So, I know you two sort of met yesterday since this one decided to disobey.”
She was looking at him with a gentle reprimand when she said it, her mouth tipping up.
Guilt took hold of his face. “I’m really sorry. I just wanted to meet your friend who is a cop.” He turned his attention to me. “Except you don’t really look all that much like a cop.”
Dillon was clearly speculating as he took me in. “Where’s your uniform?”
I stood there, trying to keep up, this kid shifting from one topic to the next without so much as a blink of his eye.
“I’m a detective which means I should probably be wearing a suit like my partner likes to do, but I think this looks better, don’t you?”
Pretending to play it cool usually wasn’t too much of a stretch, but I was having a bitch of a time managing it right then. I forced a grin around the agitation, trying to win a few extra points with the kid.
Could anyone blame me?
“You look pretty cool to me.”
Then his eyes doubled in size when a thought struck him.
“Are you undercover?” He whispered it, looking around all covert-like, kid all-in at keeping the secret.
Fucking cute.
“You do kinda look like a bad guy,” he said even lower, and he looked at his mom in awe. “Your friend is the coolest.”
If only she could be that impressed.
“Boom. Bang. Bam! Sneak attack,” he whisper-shouted as he launched into a couple karate chops and a side kick that was nothing but awkward.
My chest tightened.
Shit.
This was almost too much, and I set my hand to the achy spot that was pressing firm.
I glanced over at Izzy.
She sent me a wistful smile that nearly bent me in two. Hazel eyes shimmering under the light, brimming with soft encouragement.
Different than it used to be.
But still there.
Taking her expression as a go, I knelt down in front of Dillon.
This kid who I didn’t have a clue where he came from.
What her life had been like. If she’d been happy or hurt.
Envy shivered, a vicious pulse through my blood. I beat that shit down, and instead stuck out my trembling hand. “Glad to meet you, Dillon. I’m Maxon, but all my friends call me Mack.”
His smile stretched wider, two rows of tiny white baby teeth, two big ones on top.
Enthusiastically, he placed his hand in mine. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Mack. Is it okay if I call you that? Am I your friend? Do you want to be mine? Are you and my mom friends now?”