Page 21 of Trust In Me

“I’m sorry. I’ve been trying to teach her what to do, but she is being a bit stubborn. I guess I could look at trying a new technique. I can do some research today, and I promise I will make sure to get the kitchen cleaned,” Mia mumbles a mile a minute and I struggle to keep up with her. I don’t know why she is apologising. I’m the one who gave Hallie her breakfast and ended up hiding under the counter first.

“Relax, Flower. I have absolutely no doubt that Hallie is fine. After several panicked visits to the health visitor, worried about her feeding, growth, and development, I have been told repeatedly that she will grow and develop when she is ready. I can’t control it, I just have to come along for the ride. So, I have stopped worrying. I have far too many other things I need to worry about with her. I literally have nightmares about what she’ll be like as a teenager if she’s this stroppy now! Besides, I got her breakfast, and I could have tried to stop her instead of hiding behind the counter. There’s just only so much I can handle before my coffee kicks in.” I am very aware of how fast I’m talking, but the more I talk, the more it occurs to me that I’m panicking, even if I tell her I’m not. I’m thinking about how stressed I’m going to be when Hallie’s a teenager. Then I remind myself that’s a worry for another day and I just have to focus on keeping her alive long enough to reach her teens.

Besides, I’ll just let Mia deal with all the puberty related bullshit. There’s no way my nerves can handle shopping for bras or talking about periods. That thought hits me like a tonne of bricks. Do I really still see Mia standing by my side, helping me to raise Hallie when she’s a teenager? I think you’re only supposed to hire nannies for the first year or two, until the child goes to nursery. But Mia is more than just the nanny, and I know it.

Fuck, I can’t handle these big life conundrums so early on in the morning. Particularly when I’m hiding in the kitchen whilst under attack from a hostile baby throwing food at me. What the hell has my life become?

Mia and I sit there for a while, leaning against each other, and I try not to think about how nice it is being close to her. Even if we are cowering on the kitchen floor. We share the coffee until we run out and Mia takes some big, deep breaths before whispering in my ear, “I’m going up for more coffee. Surely she’ll have run out of food soon. By the sounds of it, she’s eating some of it.”

Before I have a chance to reply, she stands up and quickly reaches for the coffee, but sadly Hallie is quicker. She must have had missiles in both hands, and with an aim that can only be described as fucking impressive for a seven-month-old, she manages to hit Mia with two blobs of banana before she has a chance to duck down again. Thankfully, she managed to get the coffee.

“Your daughter has impeccable aim,” Mia mutters before taking a big mouthful of steaming hot coffee and offering it to me. I can’t help but laugh as I take the coffee and drink a big gulp, the delicious burn tickling my mouth.

“So, I guess we should be proud of her then.”

Before Mia has a chance to reply, we hear footsteps running into the kitchen. Mia and I look at each other frantically, wondering if we should get up and warn the person, or if we should stand up and look like we’re actually trying to do the parenting thing. As opposed to letting Hallie just run riot.

Before we even have a chance to move, a high-pitched yelp fills the kitchen and I move quickly. Handing my coffee over to Mia, I quickly jump up to find Bree standing there with banana mush smeared across her face. Hallie’s giggling and getting ready to throw again as she fills both hands with more food. Thankfully, she moves one hand to her mouth, tasting more of the banana and giving me the opening I need. I quickly pour a cup of coffee from the machine for Bree, before pulling on her sleeve and yanking her down to hide with Mia and me.

As soon as we are all crouched down again, Hallie’s giggles fill the room, and Mia hands Bree a towel so she can clean the banana off her face. She looks like she’s still in shock, like she can’t quite believe what’s happening.

“What the fuck is happening? Why are we allowing a baby to terrorise us in my own kitchen?” Bree yells in the quietest voice she possibly can. She may be pissed but she knows not to shout and anger Hallie even more.

“Look, we are trying a weaning technique that the health visitor suggested. We’re supposed to let her feel the food, as she’s more likely to want to eat it. And to be fair, she’s putting it in her mouth occasionally.” The explanation sounds pathetic even to my own ears, but I can’t help the small amount of pride in my voice when I say she’s eating something. Hallie’s a very fussy eater and it’s something I’ve been frantic about for the last few weeks, ever since the health visitor said I should be weaning her. I will admit, it’s not quite going to plan, but my life never does. I can’t help but laugh.

“Kellan, there is banana all over my kitchen, and all over us. We are having to hide from a fucking baby,” she yells, as she smacks me around the head with her hand.

“Ouch. Look, she’s just in a bit of a bad mood, that’s all. She’s not a morning baby, she’s—”

Before I have a chance to finish my sentence, we hear footsteps entering the kitchen. If we didn’t know it was Liam—since everyone else is currently already here hiding behind the kitchen counter—Hallie’s girly high-pitched squeal would have definitely given the game away.

“Good morning, my little gorgeous Hallie Bear. Where is everyone? And why does it look like a banana bomb exploded all over you and the kitchen?” Liam says as Hallie just continues to squeal and giggle.

As if like something out of a cartoon, Mia, Bree, and I all pop our heads up to find Hallie sat there, munching on the banana in her hand whilst giving Liam the biggest smile she can. Once she has cleaned her hands, she holds them out for Liam, making the clutching motion with her fists, which is her way of asking for him to pick her up. All thoughts of throwing food are long forgotten, and she actually sits there like a perfect angel while Liam gets the baby wipes and cleans all the food off her.

“Son of a bitch,” I mutter, although why I’m whispering is a mystery to me. Hallie clearly has something better to do now than throw crap at us.

“Is there a reason why three fully grown adults are hiding behind the kitchen counter covered in bananas?” Liam asks sarcastically while picking Hallie up out of her high chair. He walks into the adjoining dining room, and places her in her playpen, surrounded by her toys. Hallie rolls over and starts playing with the toys around her.

We slowly stand up, and I can’t help the sarcastic response I give Liam. “Well, we were going to have a dirty orgy, covered in food, but then Hallie and you interrupted us. Guess we will have to do it another time.” What can I say, I’m jealous. I hate how good Liam is with Hallie. More than that, I hate how good she is for Liam. She looks at him like he literally hung the moon, and I just wish she looked at me like that.

“Get this place cleaned up, Kellan. We are leaving in twenty minutes.” Liam stomps, clearly not finding my orgy reference very funny.

“I will get everything cleaned up once you leave. Go and get changed, I will make some toast for everyone. It will be ready when you come back down. Go.” Mia points between Bree and me before pointing to the stairs. She then instructs Liam to play with Hallie while she makes us all some toast. I’m pleased she offered to make food. I’m not sure I can face today on an empty stomach.

My stomach flips at the thought of getting to interrogate Kyle. This is not normally what I do, normally I stay behind the screens, but not this time. This time I want—no, I need—answers. More than that, I need to know that this asshole will no longer have power over Mia, that he will never be the cause of another nightmare ever again.

The car ride to the warehouse seems to take forever. Liam’s driving, with Bree sitting next to him. They’re talking—or should I say arguing—about how this is going to go down. Liam wants to interrogate, while making sure the guy walks away with all his limbs intact and without starting a war. Bree, on the other hand, is shrouded in blood lust, and she’s brought her favourite carving knife.

It’s the knife Jimmy bought her as a teen, and it’s the same knife I plan on using to kill him, when the time is right after Paddy finishes interrogating him. Apparently, Vernon was being bankrolled by someone, but Jimmy’s yet to divulge who. He’s also sure that even in exile, Vernon won’t stop his vendetta. He will always be our enemy, and we need to watch our backs. In the meantime, we need to find this bankroller. But for me to find him, I need to have a rough idea of where to start, if not I’m literally looking for a needle in a haystack, without even being sure I’m in the right haystack. Until Jimmy gives us more, we’re fucked.

Bree has made it clear that if Paddy doesn’t get answers soon, she will step in and interrogate him herself. Paddy and Liam don’t want her to, they think she will get too emotional and kill him without meaning to. Or they think it will be too much for her. While Bree may look healed physically, the mental scars are on a whole other level. Bree was betrayed by the person she trusted the most, which is something I can relate to. That betrayal cuts deeper than any knife. Bree went through a great deal of trauma when she was held captive, and she may never get over that experience.

Maybe that’s why Bree wants to interrogate Kyle, why she brought the knife that reminds her of that pain. It also reminds her of who she is. She’s strong and nobody is exempt from her wrath.

“Rather than continue with this tedious argument, can we all just agree that Kyle is a douchecanoe, and as long as Bree promises not to kill him, she can interrogate him however she wants?” I groan, trying to get them to stop their incessant bickering. It’s not like proper arguing, more like being in the car with an old married couple. He’s being overprotective, and she is rebelling. They both care about each other so much, it’s leading to them squabbling. If they listened to each other, they would realise they both want the same outcome.

“I’ve already said I won’t kill him…unless he deserves it.” As soon as Bree adds the last part, I can’t help but sigh. I can almost feel Liam rolling his eyes from here.

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