Page 28 of Unbound
I take a slight pause. “Don’t do what?” I swallow, eyes unblinking.
“Don’t dothisnow.” She breathes in soft breaths like the secret keeper she is, and I’m left trying to figure out the meaning.
I’m scared that when I open my mouth, my heart will scream out and no longer be silent. “You came up to me.”
“I wanted to explain.”
My mind spins. I try to keep the pieces of myself together but they crumble to the ground before her. Tension burrows deep in my bones. My skin pricks, the things I said to her over the years surfacing, leaking life and blood into the deepest parts of my mind. It’s like a brain injury, pooling inside my skull until the pressure’s too much and somethings gotta give.
My hands are shaking so badly I shove them in the pockets of my jeans so she won’t notice. I think I’m drowning, heartache swallowing me whole. “I’m not stopping you from doing that.”
Before she can, Mom comes back out holding the baby. Sophie frowns and takes the baby from her when he’s screaming, his arms up in the air as he squirms around. It’s easy to see right then Sophie is the baby’s mother, if I didn’t know that already.
“Is everything okay?” she asks, looking to my mom.
Mom hands the baby to Sophie and then hands me a beer, as if she thinks I need it. I do and take it willingly. “I think he’s hungry.”
“Okay.” Sophie nods, reaching for him. “I’ll try feeding him.”
In passing, the baby’s eyes land on mine and reaches for me, his hand grasping my shirt, his crazy blond hair sticking up at odd angles as if it was once in a Mohawk.
Sophie stops, her body closer to mine and there’s a moment where I can feel her eyes on mine. I want her voice but not her words. I want her warmth but not her touch.
My eyes shift to the child’s, my lashes lifting.
My smile cracks the corners of my lips at the kid when he stops crying and smiles at me. I might be pissed but a baby smiles at you and it kind of breaks your tough ass. “Does he have a name?” I ask when he tears his hand from my shirt and around my index finger on my right hand.
“His name is Lyric,” Nova says, running past us and into the house, her little friend trailing right behind her. “Hey, Uncle!”
Sophie’s eyes snap to mine. There’s something in her eyes, something that makes my heart stop.
I can barely get the words out, my voice thick. “How old is he?”
“Eight months.” She waits for me to do the math in my head.
She pauses.
I pause.
Mom coughs, attempting to clear her throat, but I stare blankly at Sophie.
Sophie’s expression’s unmasked and she takes a breath, shaking her head, an exhale from deep within. “He’syours.”
My chest heaves with her words. It’s one blink at a time. Anger, betrayal… mostly anger, it’s all there, present and heavy. The kind that turns sounds to acid and thoughts to flames, like coating red blood cells black. I take a deep breath, pushing the weight against my ribs, the words a bitter pill I can’t forcibly swallow.
He’s yours.
He’s mine?
What?
My legs shake and my knees nearly buckle. I’m breathing too loudly, too fast and I have to tell myself to calm down, focus on what’s before me. I don’t realize I’m shaking my head until I feel dizzy from doing so.
“What?” I ask and even my voice, words, everything about this is unfamiliar and out of my control. My vision goes hazy and I inhale through my nose and press my lips tightly shut. Something inside me breaks along with my control. My lids fall shut, my nostrils flaring. The beer in my hand hits the side of the house crashing to the ground. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
Sophie reacts, jumps at the sound of my voice, as does the baby who then starts crying at the noise, or maybe me. I’m not sure, but there’s commotion around me.
Red stands between us, shading me in a shadow, his hands on my chest, cold eyes constantly assuming and judging me. “Knock it off.”
