kicked her ass in that coffee shop way back when.
“Hey you, what?” I snap when Ty doesn't elaborate.
“I love the shit out of you, okay?”
“Okay?”
“Do me a favor?” He lifts his hands up in a chiming of rainbow bracelets and starts to undo the clasps on the sides of the baby carrier. I watch him, the corner of my lip curling, knowing that Hannah is watching, too. I want to smash her face in. “Take Noah for me?” he asks.
“Noah,” Hannah says, not like she's asking a question, but in a creepy way, like she's trying to memorize the information or something. My blood goes cold, even as Ty hands me our son's small, warm, body and looks back over at Hannah from under a loose bit of black hair. He tried to gel it up this morning, but we were in a hurry, so it looks kind of mussy, like he just woke up. I do not like the way that bitch's eyes take this in.
Ty's hands go on his hips and he sucks in a deep breath, running his tongue over his lips and looking devilishly beautiful standing there in scuffed up combat boots and an undone baby carrier, Sharpie bullets stark under the gray light of the morning.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I ask him, noticing that the realtor is creeping back to her. I hope she doesn't call the police. That's the last thing I want to deal with right now.
“Did I ever tell you that I think it's hot as shit when you try to protect me?”
“Did I ever tell you that I don't like being left in the dark? What are you doing?”
“Putting a lid on my past,” Ty says, completely ignoring Hannah. To me, she's a threat. To him, she's a piece of his dark, dirty history, a relic best left forgotten. But, obviously, for whatever reason she does not want him to forget her. I can see it written all over her face. I don't know what her deal is, but she still wants Ty for something. Why else would she have written her number on his hand when we saw her in the city? Why else would she have the fucking balls to show up here right now?
Nausea clenches my belly muscles tight, and I think Noah senses my unease because he starts to scream. In the background, Angelica continues to bark, loud shrill yaps that pierce the peaceful silence of the neighborhood.
“I'm sorry,” the realtor says, drawing my attention over to her pinched face, her tiny, round eyes and her mauve lips. “But you'll have to remove the dog before I can show the house.” She tries to smile at me, but I can tell she's nervous. She should be. There's violence brewing in the air right now, ready to spew blood across the cracked walls of our collective psyches. One of them is coming down and it isn't going to be mine, and it isn't going to be Ty's. I'll give you one guess.
“Fuck off,” I tell her which maybe isn't the best thing to say, but it makes me feel better for a moment, clears my head a little.
“Hannah, let's cut the shit. You didn't come here to look at the house, did you?” Hannah tucks some hair behind her ear and looks over at me, judging me, trying to decide if I really am a threat or not. She has no fucking idea. I've dealt with a lot of shit in my life, and now I have something worth keeping, and nobody is going to screw that up for me. I'm already having to fight with myself, convince my heart that I deserve the husband and the kids and the white fucking picket fence if I want it. It was never in my plans, but now that I've got it, I'm keeping it. This bitch can step off.
“Why else would I come here?” she says, but her voice is so full of bullshit that it stinks. I keep one hand against the back of Noah's head and the other on his lower back, bouncing up and down gently, trying to get him to soothe. He just keeps screaming.
“Might be hungry, Nev,” Ty says as I come full circle and give him a look. Ty's staring at me, urging me to go inside, so he can deal with this.
“No,” I say. If he thinks I'm leaving him alone with Hannah the Child Fucker, he's gone completely and utterly
“Hey you, what?” I snap when Ty doesn't elaborate.
“I love the shit out of you, okay?”
“Okay?”
“Do me a favor?” He lifts his hands up in a chiming of rainbow bracelets and starts to undo the clasps on the sides of the baby carrier. I watch him, the corner of my lip curling, knowing that Hannah is watching, too. I want to smash her face in. “Take Noah for me?” he asks.
“Noah,” Hannah says, not like she's asking a question, but in a creepy way, like she's trying to memorize the information or something. My blood goes cold, even as Ty hands me our son's small, warm, body and looks back over at Hannah from under a loose bit of black hair. He tried to gel it up this morning, but we were in a hurry, so it looks kind of mussy, like he just woke up. I do not like the way that bitch's eyes take this in.
Ty's hands go on his hips and he sucks in a deep breath, running his tongue over his lips and looking devilishly beautiful standing there in scuffed up combat boots and an undone baby carrier, Sharpie bullets stark under the gray light of the morning.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I ask him, noticing that the realtor is creeping back to her. I hope she doesn't call the police. That's the last thing I want to deal with right now.
“Did I ever tell you that I think it's hot as shit when you try to protect me?”
“Did I ever tell you that I don't like being left in the dark? What are you doing?”
“Putting a lid on my past,” Ty says, completely ignoring Hannah. To me, she's a threat. To him, she's a piece of his dark, dirty history, a relic best left forgotten. But, obviously, for whatever reason she does not want him to forget her. I can see it written all over her face. I don't know what her deal is, but she still wants Ty for something. Why else would she have written her number on his hand when we saw her in the city? Why else would she have the fucking balls to show up here right now?
Nausea clenches my belly muscles tight, and I think Noah senses my unease because he starts to scream. In the background, Angelica continues to bark, loud shrill yaps that pierce the peaceful silence of the neighborhood.
“I'm sorry,” the realtor says, drawing my attention over to her pinched face, her tiny, round eyes and her mauve lips. “But you'll have to remove the dog before I can show the house.” She tries to smile at me, but I can tell she's nervous. She should be. There's violence brewing in the air right now, ready to spew blood across the cracked walls of our collective psyches. One of them is coming down and it isn't going to be mine, and it isn't going to be Ty's. I'll give you one guess.
“Fuck off,” I tell her which maybe isn't the best thing to say, but it makes me feel better for a moment, clears my head a little.
“Hannah, let's cut the shit. You didn't come here to look at the house, did you?” Hannah tucks some hair behind her ear and looks over at me, judging me, trying to decide if I really am a threat or not. She has no fucking idea. I've dealt with a lot of shit in my life, and now I have something worth keeping, and nobody is going to screw that up for me. I'm already having to fight with myself, convince my heart that I deserve the husband and the kids and the white fucking picket fence if I want it. It was never in my plans, but now that I've got it, I'm keeping it. This bitch can step off.
“Why else would I come here?” she says, but her voice is so full of bullshit that it stinks. I keep one hand against the back of Noah's head and the other on his lower back, bouncing up and down gently, trying to get him to soothe. He just keeps screaming.
“Might be hungry, Nev,” Ty says as I come full circle and give him a look. Ty's staring at me, urging me to go inside, so he can deal with this.
“No,” I say. If he thinks I'm leaving him alone with Hannah the Child Fucker, he's gone completely and utterly
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