I had to swallow down my bile before I could even speak to him.
“Well, that is his choice to make. What did you think would happen tonight? If this plan worked out just how you wanted, do you think he’d thank you for it? He’d never speak to you again, so you’d have blown this sweet fucking deal yourself. How about, you stay out of our business, just leave us alone, if you want even a shot of him finishing up that record with you? And if you’re real good, if you can refrain from speaking to me again, I won’t tell him about this stunt, which is more than you deserve. We clear?”
The bastard agreed readily enough, but still I knew that he couldn’t be trusted, and I debated all night whether or not to tell Tristan what had happened. The problem was, I didn’t know how he’d react, and that scared me. His temper was a volatile thing, especially when it coincided with his protective streak.
I didn’t sleep, too worried and troubled over what I should be doing. I could get him to respond, and I did every few hours, just to be safe, but then he’d quickly go back to sleep. At what point did he need to go to the hospital? When did you know if a person had overdosed? I couldn’t even believe I was having to wonder this. What had I ignored, that he was this far gone, and I hadn’t known it? We were too good of a match in some ways. I was the enabler to his addict, and even knowing that, I’d let too much go for things to get this out of hand.
In part, I blamed myself, and even knowing how screwed up that was, I couldn’t let the feeling go. I needed to somehow take better care of him, so nothing like this happened again. I was always too busy with one thing or another, and I needed to find more time to fix this, to help him survive his demons, because it was clear that they were eating him alive.
I looked up his symptoms, and kept vigil through the night. He wasn’t conscious for any length of time again until late afternoon the next day, and I’d been through so much by then, mood swing after mood swing, that I didn’t have the heart to really lay into him.
Even after he woke, it was a while before he was lucid enough to speak to, but when he was, I said quietly, “You can’t do this again. It’s not fair. You need to start taking care of yourself.”
He didn’t protest, in fact agreed easily. “You’re right. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. Have you been here since last night?”
I nodded.
I didn’t tell him that every second had been torture for me.
There was an anchor, tied around both of his ankles, and it was taking him deep, into black fathomless depths, drowning him slowly but surely.
I didn’t tell him that he was dragging me down with him.
CHAPTER TWENTY
DANIKA
I was lying on the carpet like a five year old, Mat on one side of me, Ivan on the other.
“Three in a bed and the little one said!” Ivan shouted out of tune more than sang.
“Roll over!” Mat screamed back.
“Roll over!” I sang.
We all rolled and since we weren’t in a bed, Ivan jumped up instead of falling down, backing two steps away with a grin.
“Boo! Your turn!” Mat complained, nudging me.
“Two in a bed and the little one said!” I sang out of tune, but at least I wasn’t screaming.
“Roll over!” Mat screamed, rivaling a death metal chorus with his volume level.
I got up, backing away to let Mat finish the game. I’d promised him one round of Rollover before dinner.
“One in a bed and the AWESOME one said, Rollover! ROLLOVER!”
He rolled, and stood up, grinning. “I win.”
“That game doesn’t have a winner, stupid,” Ivan told him.
“Hey, now!” I chided. “We don’t use hurtful words. I hear that again, you are going to your room.”
“Okay, boo. What’s for dinner? Can I help?”
I smiled at him, thinking he was the sweetest kid in the world.
“Yeah, boo, what’s for dinner?” Tristan’s deep voice called from the front door, where he’d been standing for God only knows how long.
I smiled. As always, I’d missed him like crazy, but I stayed where I was. We made a point not to practice PDA in front of the kids, and I was pretty sure I’d jump him if I got within ten feet of him, so I just stood there and took him in.
He looked strung out, but his eyes were soft on me and smiling, and since I didn’t want to fight, I didn’t mention it. “I got dibs on helping you with kitchen duty, though. I’m pretty sure I outrank the eight year old.”
“Hey!” Ivan protested.
“You let me help her, I’ll make you my famous cookies after dinner. Deal?”
“‘Kay!” he said, already racing from the room. With the deal made, he was already onto his next amusement.
“We missed you, Twistan,” Mat said, giving him a big smile that showed off his recently lost front teeth.
“I missed you too, kiddo. And I love your singing voice. I see a metal band in your future.”
Mat’s nose wrinkled. “What’s that?”
I shook my head. “We’ll explain it when you’re old enough to care. In the meantime, will you go tell your mom that dinner will be ready in thirty minutes?”
“‘Kay.” He shuffled away, stopping briefly to head-butt Tristan on the leg on his way out of the room. Tristan ruffled his hair in return. It was adorable.
The kids were out of sight and we were in the kitchen before he gave me a proper hello.
“Missed you, boo,” he murmured as he pulled back from a long kiss. “And seeing you with those kids…” He swallowed hard. “I can’t wait to see you as a mom. You were made for it.”
I pulled away from him and got busy with the meal, blinking back sappy tears. He hugged me from behind, his hand pushing into my stomach and rubbing. “That sounded way too general. What I meant was, I can’t wait until you’re the mother of my children. I think I want five.”
That made me smile. I covered his hand with my own, taking a deep breath. “Who knows? I could already be pregnant.”
“Wouldn’t that be something?” he nuzzled into my neck.