Page 75 of Yours to Keep
Four minutes later, Deck’s truck pulls into the parking lot with Finn in the passenger seat. Neither of them wastes time.
By then, Eli is awake, but barely. He’s silent, completely withdrawn into himself.
I slide one arm beneath his knees and lift him into my arms, carrying him outside. I feel his body curl into my chest immediately, the quiet trust in that small movement hitting me hard.
Deck opens the rear door before I even reach the truck. I climb in with Eli still in my arms, not bothering with the seatbelt yet. Right now, I need to feel him breathing, needing the steady rise and fall of his chest against mine.
The truck pulls away, rain streaking across the windows as we cut through the city toward home. Eli doesn’t speak. He just stares out the glass like he expects Adrian to appear at any moment. A cold ache settles beneath my ribs. I tighten my hold, hoping he feels it, and his fingers bunch in my shirt: just enough to tell me he knows I’m here.
Finn is unusually quiet. The only thing he says is a soft, “Hey, Eli,” when we climb in. Now he just keeps glancing between us, worried for Eli.
I don’t know what to say. All I know is I want Adrian Blackwell in front of me long enough to make him understand exactly what he’s done, and make him pay for it, piece by fucking piece.
The thought is dark enough that I force it down. One problem at a time. Protect Eli first, then I’ll deal with everything else.
The truck pulls into the apartment parking lot. Before Deck has fully stopped, Finn is out and racing around the side, but Deck reaches my door first and pulls it open.
“You got him?” Deck asks quietly.
I nod.
I step out with Eli still pressed against my chest, his face tucked into my neck, his breath warm against my skin. When I start walking, his arms tighten like he’s afraid I’ll put him down, so I hold him closer. Letting go would break him, and I won’t ever let him go. Not tonight. Not ever.
Inside, I carry him straight to the couch while Deck and Finn disappear into the kitchen. They move quietly, with no wasted words. A few minutes later, a bowl of chicken soup, a grilled cheese, and drinks sit on the coffee table.
Eli hasn’t moved from my lap. He holds me tight, letting out a small noise now and then as he pulls himself closer.
“Baby Boy,” I say quietly into his ear, “do you want to eat something?”
His eyes flick to the food for a second before he lets out a small whimper, shutting them again and shaking his head. He sinks deeper into my chest. The sound guts me. I pull him tighter, wishing I could physically pull the fear out of him.
I can feel him retreating, folding inward, disappearing again.
I meet Deck’s eyes over Eli’s head, noticing Finn hovering nearby, looking lost.
“Sit, Finn,” I say, nodding to the space beside Eli’s head. Finn’s gentleness has always been something Eli responds to.
Finn doesn’t argue. He sits carefully and rests a hand on Eli’s head, moving slowly and murmuring something too quiet for me to hear. Eli doesn’t respond, but I notice when his breathing starts to even out, feeling the tension begin to drain from him, little by little.
Time slips by and the soup goes cold.
Eli has fallen asleep, sprawled across my lap with his face turned toward me and his mouth slightly open. Every so often, a quiet snore slips out. His skin is warm. The sight of him safe in my arms steadies something inside me. I hold him across my lap, gently rocking him while brushing my thumb along his cheekbone, just watching him.
Eventually, I look up at Deck. “We need to talk.” My voice is low, careful not to wake him.
Deck nods. “Let’s move him to the couch. Finn, stay with him.”
Finn gives Deck a look like he’s an idiot. “Like I’m going anywhere,” he mutters. “I’m staying right here. Eli and I are snuggling. You two go do your serious business thing.”
We shift Eli onto the couch, and he doesn’t wake. Finn immediately kicks off his shoes and stretches out beside him, wrapping an arm around him like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Within minutes, he’s asleep too.
* * *
“Come on,” Deck says. “Time to talk.”
We step onto the balcony where the waterfront lights flicker below us in the dark. Deck’s fingers tighten on the railing.
“It’s safe to assume it’s Adrian?”
