Page 52 of Treasured
I slipped the tablet in front of him, but the sirens still blared. He muted it. “Sounds like it’s getting bad out there,” I said.
“Go,” he reminded me. I was still holding the mail opener, but I guessed I wouldn’t need it. I slipped in and waited behind the door.
Maybe in the future, I would get my son something better to sleep on than the floor, but he seemed comfortable on the rug.
Outside the door, everything was silent. We could be sleeping as far as anyone knew.
The sun was already above the ocean now, and my stomach ached like I was hungry for breakfast.
A knock tugged me out of my reverie, and I jumped up as Dwayne let himself in and said, “It’s quiet now.”
“And the weapons?” I asked, as the last thing we needed was my son near anything like that.
“Locked away,” he said, and I breathed easier. He motioned with his head to follow him. “Bruce seems calm.”
At least he hadn’t said anything judgmental about a parent letting her son sleep on the floor. “He usually is.”
He waved for me to join him. “Come. The police want your statement.”
I took one look at my son and decided to scoop him up. He was still sleeping, but if he woke up to sirens, I would never forgive myself. A few moments later, I followed Dwayne out of the room.
I then looked at his shoulder and could see the Kevlar was ripped. I reached out to touch him. “You were shot.”
“I’m fine. The vest worked.”
I loved him. I wanted to throw my arms around him and hold him tight. But he led me to the front door, where police cars were lined up along the street outside. One woman asked me, “You and your son are good, ma’am?”
I rocked Bruce, who woke up. “Yeah, Dwayne’s house is like a fortress. I didn’t hear anything in the office.”
She nodded. “Good. The six men have all been arrested, and with federal charges, they aren’t likely getting out in our lifetime.”
“Thank you,” I said.
Dwayne placed his hand on my back and soon directed us back inside.
Once we closed the door, the house was quiet again. The walls must have been soundproof, but I didn’t ask. We walked over to the kitchen counter, and he said, “So it’s over.”
I put my son down, and he crawled over to the couch. “Is it?” I asked.
Dwayne took out the coffee pot. “I have a decision to make now, Mary.”
I followed him in and grabbed the eggs from the refrigerator to make breakfast. “What?”
He took out the milk, and we brushed against each other near the open door. “If I move to Pittsburgh, will you and Bruce move in with me?”
For a second, the egg container shook in my hand, but then I strengthened my grip and glanced up at him.
We were serious, and my heart widened. Dwayne was the man I’d wanted all my life. Bruce held out his arms for Dwayne and shouted, “Dada.”
He rubbed the boy’s head and said, “I’ll get him a bottle.”
He reached for Dwayne, and Dwayne picked him up. Once he did, my son calmed down, and I walked beside them both as I met his gaze and said, “Dwayne, yes. I love you. I never want to live without you.”
I froze. It hadn’t been that hard to say.
“I love you too.” He winked at me as my son hugged him, but as we reached the refrigerator, my phone rang. He fed my son and said, “Now get your phone.”
I showed him my brother’s name and then answered. “Joseph, Arthur was arrested.”
