I’m taking the stairs two at a time, my heart racing. I reach the door before she even closes it. Josh is still trying to scramble to his feet, but she’s hovering over him, scolding him.
“I could have gone to jail, you little shit!”
She has no idea I’m behind her. I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her away from Josh by picking her up and dropping her onto the mattress behind me. It happens so fast, she’s too shocked to react.
I help Josh to his feet. His phone is a few feet away on the floor, so I grab it and hand it to him, then urge him toward the door.
Sutton realizes what’s happening, and she jumps off the bed. She’s following us out the door. “Bring him back!” I feel her hands on me now. She’s yanking at my shirt, trying to get me to stop or move aside so she can get to Josh.
I urge him forward. “Go to the car.” He continues toward the stairs, and then I stop walking and spin around to face her. She sucks in a quick gasp after seeing the absolute fury in my eyes. Then she slaps her palms against my chest and shoves me.
“He’s my son!” she yells. “I’ll call the police!”
I release an exasperated laugh. I want to tell her to call the police. I want to scream at her. But most of all, I want to get Josh away from her. She’s not going to ruin his life on my watch.
I don’t even have the energy to say anything to her at all. This woman isn’t worth my words. I just walk away, leaving her screaming at me like old times.
Josh is already sitting in the front seat of my car when I make it back. I slam my door and grip my steering wheel with both hands before starting the car. I need to calm myself down before I get back on the road.
Josh seems unusually calm for what just happened. It makes me wonder if that’s an average interaction between them because he isn’t even breathing heavily. He’s not crying. He’s not cussing. He’s just watching me, and I realize how I react in this moment is quite possibly something he’ll absorb for a lifetime.
I slide my hands down the steering wheel and calmly exhale.
Josh’s cheek is red, and there’s a small gash on his forehead that’s bleeding. I retrieve a napkin from the glove box and hand it to him, then flip the visor down so he can see where to wipe.
“I saw her slap you, but where’d the cut come from?”
“I think I hit the TV stand.”
Slow and steady, Atlas. I put my car in reverse and back out of the parking lot. “Maybe we should swing by the emergency room and have them check out your cut. Make sure you don’t have a concussion.”
“It’s okay. I can usually tell when it’s a concussion.”
He can usually tell? I clench my jaw as soon as he says that. I realize I have absolutely no idea what kind of hell this kid has already been through, and I was about to send him right back into the fire. “Better to be safe,” I say, but what I mean is, Better to get this documented in case we need proof of her abuse at a later date.
Chapter Eighteen Lily
It’s been five days since I’ve seen Atlas. I try not to stress over how busy we are because I know it’ll get better once I’m comfortable enough to let him spend time around Emmy. But the responsible thing to do is to let Emmy’s father know when I start seeing someone else before I bring anyone around her.
It’s just frustrating that the responsible thing to do is also a terrifying thing to do. I plan to put it off for as long as possible. There’s no shame in being patient.
The flower shop is understaffed this week with Lucy’s upcoming wedding, and Atlas has been dealing with legal stuff regarding custody, running two businesses, and taking care of a kid. On top of all that, the fever my mother had last week turned into the full-fledged flu, so she hasn’t been able to watch Emmy at all. I’ve brought her with me two out of the three days I’ve worked this week.
It’s just been a week from hell. Too busy to even get a drive-by hug.
Ryle and Marshall took the girls to the zoo today. Emmy is more than likely too young to enjoy it, so it should make for an interesting day for Ryle.
The custody exchange was fine this morning, even though we haven’t spoken since our conversation on the roof last week about her middle name. He was a little curt, but I prefer his curtness to the subtle passes he sometimes still makes at me.
Allysa is working with me today since she doesn’t have Rylee. She just returned with coffee now that we’re caught up on everything. We got all our orders out with the delivery truck an hour ago, so this is the first time we’ve actually had time to speak in private since my date with Atlas last week.