Page 78 of Saved By The King's Gamma

“Stop,” he says gently, squeezing my hands. “You’re mine, Abbie. And that means Tyson belongs to me, too. He’s our responsibility now. Not just yours. Ours.”

Tears well up in my eyes, and I blink rapidly, trying to keep them from falling. “But… I didn’t even ask you. I just… I just decided, and now?—”

“And now he’s here. And he’s staying,” Gannon says firmly. “You don’t need to ask, Abbie. You don’t need to beg or offer to pay me back. I want this. I want both of you.”

I stare at him, my heart pounding in my chest. He wants us. He really wants us.

“I love you,” he continues, his voice softening. “I love you, and if Tyson is part of you, then he’s part of me, too. You don’t owe me anything. You’re not alone in this anymore.”

A sob escapes me before I can stop it, and I throw my arms around his neck, clinging to him tightly. He wraps his arms around me, holding me close as I bury my face in his shoulder.

“I was so scared,” I whisper through my tears. “I thought I was going to lose you. I thought?—”

“You’re not losing me,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the side of my head. “Never.”

We stand there for a long moment, the only sound the quiet hum of Tyson tapping his fingers rhythmically against the bed. When I finally pull back, Gannon brushes a tear from my cheek, offering me a small smile.

37

A FEW WEEKS LATER

Our room looks more like a playgroup, and it is driving me insane. Everywhere I step, I am stepping on toys or Legos. Abbie is always quick to clean up any mess, but Tyson is a tornado.

I groan as I push the door open, step into the room, and find crap scattered everywhere. I kick off my shoes, leaving them by the door. Abbie looks up at me as I enter before fiddling with the toy in her hand. I have just come off the night shift. Abbie sits on the floor with Tyson in her lap as they play with Legos.

Nervously, I move across the room, placing my phone on charge while I debate how to tell Abbie Tyson wouldn’t be sleeping in the room with us anymore.

Yesterday the delivery arrived, and I didn’t know how to tell Abbie that her old room had been converted into Tyson’s bedroom. It will start an argument; I know that much, but our room is too small for all these toys, and I am sick of sleeping on the couch because the kid is a helicopter and decides he can spin around in his sleep.

I make it across half the room without my shoes, playing Russian roulette with the scattered Lego pieces, and I lose miserably. A growl escapes me as I bend down, picking the tiny Lego from my foot. Sighing, I look around at the chaos that is supposed to be my place of peace.

“Hey,” Abbie says, chewing her lip and peering up from the Lego she was putting together. She stares at the Lego piece between my fingers, and I drop it back into the plastic tub she stores them in.

Tyson climbs out of her lap, rushing over to me, his tiny arms wrapping around my legs as he garbles at me, wanting me to pick him up. Grabbing him, he smacks my face and chest as I place him on my hip.

“I think it is time you get your own room,” I tell him while he pats my forehead with his palm before rubbing it on my cheek. I think he likes the feel of my stubble as he babbles excitedly, viciously rubbing his palm on my face. I grab his wrist, kissing his palm. “Wanna see your room?” I ask him, and he bounces in my arms.

“I’ll clean up,” Abbie says, mistaking my words that he made the room messy, which wasn’t an issue. Kid’s play and make a mess, but it is starting to bother me that I haven’t been alone with her in weeks. Liam set it up with Dustin last night for me while I worked.

I don’t have the patience for flat packs. Though Dustin looked like he was about to near wet his pants with excitement as he helped me carry up the boxes. He then volunteered himself and Liam, who looked horrified at having to do such a task.

“Want to see your new room,” I tell Tyson, ignoring Abbie as I turn for the door.

“What?” she says, but I am already walking out of the room to her old one. Her feet bash the floor as she chases after me. She reaches for Tyson, trying to take him from my arms, but I hold him a little tighter.

“What are you doing?” she snaps as I grip the door handle. I push the door open to find his Thomas the Tank Engine bed and the walls covered in kids’ colorful crap.

Abbie stops looking around the room while Tyson babbles excitedly, kicking his legs and wanting to be set down on the ground. I place him on his new bed, and he instantly reaches for the giant sensory block full of noisy crap, spinners, and textured patterns. He flicks the buttons and starts cackling.

“When did you do this?” Abbie asks, peering around the room.

“I didn’t. I had Dustin and Liam set it up for me; the delivery came yesterday,” I tell her as she peers around the room, following Tyson as he examines everything.

“Now he has his own room,” I tell her, and her head whips to the side to look at me.

“But he sleeps with us. He needs to be close, so I can see him,” she says, and I knew this would cause an argument. But he can’t share our bed forever!

“Our room is just there. This area is secure. Tyson can’t get past the doors; guards are at every station, and Liam and Dustin are right across from him. There is also a monitor right there,” I tell her, pointing to it on the matching bedside table.

---