Page 73 of My Addiction
I’m used to Mom doing things like this, but seeing it through his eyes, I can understand the reaction. The room looks like a child-sized wonderland exploded inside it. There’s an indoor swing and slide set tucked into one corner, shelves lined with books, bins full of toys, and a giant art table covered in crayons, finger paints, and stacks of paper.
Though, honestly, I’m not sure what kind of art a one-year-old is supposed to make. It’s not like Ollie can paint a landscape. Most days, he can barely keep food in his mouth.
Franklin is kneeling on the far side of the room, putting together what looks like a miniature kitchen set. Ollie stands beside him, solemnly handing him random pieces like he’s an assistant on a construction site.
“That’s broccoli,” Franklin says seriously, holding up a green plastic piece. “Broccoli makes you strong.” Ollie nods like he understands every word.
He’s just picked up a tiny frying pan when he finally notices us standing in the doorway. His whole face lights up. Still clutching the pan, he starts toward us on unsteady legs, wobbling side to side with every step. A sharp image flashes through my mind—him falling, hitting the floor with that toy trapped under him. I’m moving before I can stop myself. I cross the room in two quick strides and scoop him up against my chest.
“Don’t wobble walk with things in your hand,” I tell him as gently as I can, easing the frying pan from his fingers. He only blinks at me. Then his smile stretches even wider, and he presses his wet, sticky mouth against my cheek. Every muscle in my body locks. My first instinct is to put him down and find the nearest sink, preferably with industrial-strength soap.
Instead, I tighten my hold on him automatically, forcing myself to stay still while drool and whatever he last ate cool against myskin. Ollie just pats my cheek proudly. I can only imagine what his sticky palm adds.
Colton laughs softly, and when I look over at him, his laugh becomes a full-on, belly-rumbling, bent-at-the-waist laugh.
“Your face. Oh my God, the look on your face.” He says between howling. He grabs a small towel from a padded table and wipes my cheek with it.
“Not funny.” I deadpan.
“It so is. He’s a baby Ronan, and he’s teething. He’s not some germ infested science experiment.”
“I know that. I’m just not used to it.” Not that I think I will ever be used to it, but here we are. Ollie tugs at the toy that I’d taken from him. I give it back. Since I’m holding him, he’s in no danger. He babbles something about it and then reaches for Colton. He takes the baby from me and discusses it as if it holds the secrets of the world.
“I’m going to see what Dad needs. I’ll be right back.” I kiss Colton and then Ollie.
Dad’s office is utilitarian in its furnishings. A large desk sits in the center of the room, with heavy dark wood bookshelves lining one wall. Everything is solid and expensive without being flashy. The walls are mostly bare except for a few framed family photos. Nothing in here is decorative unless it serves a purpose.
“You wanted to see me.”
“Yeah, Finn and Conor found where those bastards were hiding. They left their phones behind, but they weren’t there.” Dad’s mouth hardens into a thin line. “Until we track them down, I think you should stay here. I’ve increased security.”
I glance toward the door automatically, toward where Colton is somewhere else in the house.
“Colton wants to go home,” I say. “I told him we could.”
No matter how much I want him here, I want to give him what he needs more. And right now, what he needs is the apartment. Dad watches me for a second, like he already knows exactly why I’m saying it.
“Then explain what’s going on,” he says. “See if he’s willing to stay here a few more nights.”
“I’ll talk to him. I’ll need to pick up some of his things and some of mine if he’s willing to stay.”
Dad nods once, and that’s the end of it. I leave the office, pulling the door shut behind me. I’ll talk to Colton. But I won’t push. If he still wants to leave after I explain everything, then we’ll go. I’ll take a couple of the extra guards with us, make sure he and Ollie are safe.
Whatever happens, I’ll make it work.
Chapter 41
Colton
I watch Ollie play with the little kitchen set Mr. Franklin put together for him, moving the plastic food from one side of the counter to the other with complete seriousness. Every few minutes, he picks something up and holds it out for me to see, and I force a smile onto my face and tell him how impressive his fake banana or frying pan is.
I try to stay focused on him. I try to stay here in the present with him. But my thoughts keep pulling me under. I don’t know what to do with everything inside my head right now. Because part of me knows what happened to our parents is what had to happen. I know it. I know they would have kept hurting people. I know they would have kept coming after us. I know Ollie would never have been safe as long as they were alive.
But there’s still something ugly sitting in the back of my mind, whispering the same thing over and over. You orphaned him. The thought makes my stomach twist.
When Ollie is older, when he’s old enough to understand what happened, will he see it the way I do? Will he understand that I did what I had to do to keep him safe? Or will he look at me and see the person who took his parents away? I pray that it’s the former and not the latter.
I’m so wrapped up in my thoughts and still trying to pay attention to Ollie that I miss Ronan coming back into the room. Ollie doesn’t.
