Page 53 of Iron Cross

“You’re scared I’m here to harm you,” he said, tilting his head and running a hand through his brown hair. “I guess you weren’t really conscious when Magda was here with me.”

He pointed to the little changing table at the corner of the room.

“She gave me instructions on how to take care of the little one until you were up. She says she’ll be here at the crack of dawn to make sure everything is fine. She threatened to cut my balls off if I harmed either of you.”

“What kind of man goes into a woman’s apartment just to…” I didn't know what to say. “To babysit?”

Saying it out loud made me wonder exactlyhowmad I was supposed to be.

“I didn’t know where to put the dirty diapers. I tried to find a trash can, but then there were no diapers in it, so I assumed you had something to put it in. So I just wrapped it in a plastic bag.”

I looked. And indeed there was a bundled thing in a plastic bag, twisted at the top and tied off. Squinting, I saw there were two of them climbing together.

Judging by the clock on the stove it was 2 AM, which meant that he would have been here for almost twelve hours.

“He fell asleep on you, but then he came out to see me, and he fell asleep here. I figured it was best to let you get some rest.” He smiled then, as if he was trying to comfort me. “You should get some more rest. You still look a little rough.”

“Can I have my son, please?” I said, stepping toward them.

He put his hands up in a salute, with a lopsided grin tilting his close-cropped beard up one side.

“You still don’t trust me.”

“I don't trust anyone with my son.”

“You trust Magda.”

“That’s not the same.” I took another step toward them.

“Magda trusted me.”

Another step. Then another.

“She trusts everyone.” That was probably Magda’s fatal flaw. Small town living had made her too good at trusting everyone.She had no instinct for danger, because none had ever been at her door.

But this man reeked of it. Of hidden violence under a sweet facade. And somewhere deep down, I liked it. It intrigued me. Butnotwhen it came to my son.

“That’s true,” he agreed, lifting his hands even higher. “You can come get him, if you want.”

I was standing right in front of him.

“Monster!” My son called out in his sleep, flipping over, until he turned on his other side, grabbing on to Aaron’s arm in his.

Aaron smiled, looking down at my son. I liked the look on his face. There was nothing cruel or strange… just tender. He liked having a child with him.

“He seems to think I’m a monster,” he chuckled quietly.

“He likes monsters.”

“He likes to be scared?”

“No,” I laughed, a little, as I took in the domestic scene before me.

I had never had help. Not really. And just the illusion of support made me feel… light.

What would it be like to give him a father? To have a man take on part of the burden of protecting this precious thing? To not feel the exhausting worry of keeping this perfection alive? Would it lessen the weight I always felt?

“He always thinks the monsters are the heroes,” I said with a shrug. “They’re the ones guarding the maidens in the castles, I guess. He thinks the prince is there to steal away the princess.”

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