Redeemed (Dirty Air 4)

I switch Marko to one hand to flip Noah off.

Maya’s eyes widen. “No, Santiago! He copies everything.”

Marko looks at me with a wide smile, showing his tiny teeth. He attempts to flip me off with his index finger.

I chalk it up to coincidence. “You should protect him from your husband, then.”

“It took some work but I’ve kiddie-proofed Noah’s mouth.” Maya smiles.

“It’s forking hard, but I try my best for you.” Noah grins before placing a soft kiss on Maya’s head.

I sit down on the couch and place Marko on my knee. My sweatpants hide my leg, but that doesn’t stop him from lifting the hem and checking out the matte metal.

My body tenses. I try my best to cover up my leg when I’m around others. The visual reminder sours the mood, so unless I need to, I hide that nasty fucker. It’s taken years to perfect my walk and conceal any kind of limp.

I’m not ashamed of my leg.

I’m ashamed of my life.

“Tio Santi is Iron Man.” He taps the leg, looking up at me with the cutest smile ever.

The constricting feeling in my chest lessens at his innocence. See, liquid sunshine.

Marko is the only one I’d ever let call me Iron Man. With my nephew, it’s as if I’m his hero, rather than the washed-up has-been the media makes me out to be. It feels good to be the hero in someone else’s story, even if it’s only for a few hours. And because of that, the little kid has me tied around his pinky finger.

Maya plucks Marko’s hand away from my leg and lowers the fabric of my sweatpants. “Marko, what did I say about touching other people without asking?”

He tucks his chin into his chest. “No touching.”

Maya shoots me a wobbly smile. “I’m sorry. I told him not to call you Iron Man anymore, but he must have forgo—”

“Let him do what he wants. And stop handling me with kid gloves, Maya. While I love that you care, I think raising one kid is enough for you, don’t you think? No need to baby me too,” I snap.

Maya stiffens.

Noah rises from the seat parallel to mine. “Outside. Now.”

The lethality in his tone has my spine straightening. He doesn’t bother looking back to check if I follow him.

Regret hits me instantly, and I face my sister. “I’m sorry about what I said. I need to control myself better.” I pull Marko off my lap and place his feet on the floor.

Maya nods, looking away from me. She swipes at her face with the sleeve of her sweater.

“Maya, don’t cry. I’m sorry.” I tug her into a hug.

She pushes me off after a few seconds, still not looking me in the eyes. “It’s fine. I’m just hormonal. Go talk to Noah.”

I deserve her brushing me off. My sister is the last one I want to make cry, but I can’t avoid the surge of anger exploding out of me every time I feel weak and babied. It’s not easy going from being the provider to someone everyone coddles. It makes me feel less than. And most importantly, it reminds me of everything I lost.

I walk outside my house, finding Noah standing by the lake’s shore.

“Hurry the fuck up! My patience is thinning,” Noah calls out and turns his back toward me.

Noah’s anger makes me instantly regret losing my cool with Maya. No one messes with his wife. Not even me.

&nbs

p; “I’m coming, asshole.” I walk toward him with ease. After my excruciating journey through physical therapy, I can walk like a normal person. So normal, if I wasn’t wearing pants, people wouldn’t know I was missing a key component. It’s one of the reasons I choose to wear sweats in the scorching heat. I prefer pretending. It keeps the darkness away enough for me to function around my family.