Hold on to Hope

Maybe it was a little obsessive.

I didn’t care.

I wasn’t taking any chances.

I used my shirt to wipe off the paint before I climbed into the driver’s seat and drove the ten minutes back to my parents’ house.

By the time I was pulling into the drive, the fury had lessened by a degree.

That was until I saw some guy I’d never seen before sitting on the porch steps.

Dark styled hair and nice jeans and a printed t-shirt.

Didn’t matter that he looked totally innocuous. Younger than me. Arms rested on his knees.

That ferocity still lingering from the asshole at the café instantly came galloping back.

Muscles flexing and bowing in a sharp swell of protectiveness.

I glanced at Everett in the rear-view mirror. He was jabbering incessantly, fisted hand bobbing in the air, completely oblivious that anything could be amiss.

On guard, I came to a stop, not sure if I should throw it in reverse and get the hell out of there or gun it and just do away with the possible threat.

I forced myself to cool it. To take a deep breath. Overreacting wasn’t going to solve anything.

The guy on the porch steps slowly stood. He appeared uneasy, though nonaggressive. I turned off the car and stepped out, keeping my attention pinned on him the whole time.

The guy slanted his head. “Are you Evan?”

I gave a tight nod. “Yeah.”

He exhaled a tense breath. “I’m Chris, Ashley’s brother.”

Didn’t know if it was relief or apprehension that hit me hardest.

I studied him, realizing why something about him felt vaguely familiar. “Is she okay?”

“I was hoping you could answer that.”

Warily, I edged back to the passenger door, unbuckled Everett, and picked him up.

When I shut the door, Chris’s gaze moved over my son.

I held him a little tighter, fighting the urge to fucking run and hide him away, not having the first clue what this guy’s intentions were.

Air huffed out of Chris’s nose, and he minutely shook his head. “She left him with you?”

Part of me wanted to be pissed that he’d known about Everett before I had.

“Yeah,” I found myself answering again.

“That’s good.”

I angled my head in question. “Why’s that?”

He shrugged a little, roughed a hand through his hair as he stared out into the distance before he looked back at me. “She’s got issues, man. She’s a good girl, but she goes off the deep end every year or so. Severe depression. Was worried about her having a kid when she told me she got knocked up.”

I flinched at the way he threw it out there.

Couldn’t tell if this guy was just concerned for his sister or being a dick.

But there was also a huge part of me that was feeling relieved. Gaining some perspective. That also meant the other half of me was certain I wasn’t going to like it when Ashley came out on the other side and wanted Everett back.

I glanced down at the child who grinned up at me.

My heart fisted.

There was no going back.

“She seemed . . . distraught. Like she was scared when she left him with me,” I chanced, hoping he could give me some insight on where to go from there.

He shrugged again. “She does that. Gets paranoid.” His eyes narrowed. “You’re the deaf dude, right? Your voice is all screwed up.”

Nice.

“Yup. That’s me.”

“She said you were cool.”

I didn’t want to tell him that she didn’t even know me.

I hugged Everett closer. “How did you find me?”

He gave a small smile. “Last time I talked with her, she was talking about you, mentioned what town you’re from. She’d said something about maybe trying to find you. I hadn’t heard from her in a few weeks so I went to her place to check on her. When she wasn’t there, thought I’d take a chance and see if she’d hooked back up with her baby daddy. I was worried about the kid, but it looks like he’s fine.”

Everett started fussing a bit, getting squirrelly in my hold. I shushed him, brought him to my chest, rubbed his back in attempt to calm him down. “And what about your sister?”

“She’ll come around.”

“And when she does?” Was sure it came out hard. Was sure he knew exactly what I was implying. What I was asking.

He pursed his lips and shoved his hands into his pockets. “You got the means to take care of him?”

Wasn’t so hard to figure out what he was implying, either.

Money was the language of the corrupt.

My arms tightened around Everett who was starting to cry, his head rocking back in his unrest, mouth twisted in a wail that I felt impale my skin. Something frantic bottled in my chest. This feeling coming over me that felt like an omen. Like I could taste something wicked and wrong riding in on the air.

“Yeah.”

“And you want him?”

I hugged Everett like his life depended on it. Had the horrible sense that maybe it did. “Yeah.”