Page 18 of Velvet Betrayal
He stood with the snow shovel braced against the crook of his arm and let me drink him in for a heartbeat longer. There was an arrogance to how little he shivered, as if hypothermia would be a welcome reprieve if it got to mean one more hour of watching me guard Rosie in the yard. I could tell he was baiting me—he always baited me—yet there was something true caught in his voice, something I was dumb enough to want to believe.
"I can't just let you run," he said. "Not yet."
"And after all this, then what?"
“I don’t know,” he said. “And honestly, it doesn’t matter, as long as you stay alive.”
Kieran
It was simple. Protect Rosie and Ruby. Keep Tristan in the dark. Don’t fuck this up.
I spent most of the afternoon splitting wood behind the house, letting the axe do the talking. The wind was sharp enough to cut skin, and the sweat freezing under my shirt stung worse than the cold. But I preferred this—the ache in my shoulders and the numbness in my fingers—to standing around in the kitchen, pretending not to stare at Ruby.
From here, I could see her through the window—dressed in borrowed black, looking every inch the threat she’d always been. She crouched in front of Rosie, stripping off snow-wet layers, laughing at something the kid said. Ruby held one mitten between her teeth while she zipped up Rosie’s coat, saying something that made Rosie laugh in turn.
Of course she was good at this. Of course she made it look easy.
She was always calm with Rosie—no panic, no raised voice, just steady hands and that low voice that made people listen. Watching her made something twist behind my ribs.
Our daughter.
The words still didn’t sit right in my head. Like they belonged to someone luckier, someone who hadn’t ghosted the woman he loved and missed the first eight years of his kid’s life.
Raising Rosie with her would’ve been the fucking dream.
And I gave it up without even knowing I had it.
I caught myself, axe raised over the next log. With Ruby, it was never about the “with.” She belonged to herself, always had, and I’d convinced myself that was what I wanted. Her freedom, her edges. But every time I caught her tying Rosie’s boots or testing her cocoa like she was making sure it wasn’t poisoned, I felt the regret settle deeper in my chest.
Letting her go had been the dumbest thing I’d ever done.
I’d ghosted her. And maybe one day she’d forgive me for that. But the price was steep: she hadn’t told me about Rosie. My own fucking kid. I wanted to be pissed, but mostly, splitting wood just felt like penance. Every splinter, every thud of the axe, was time I’d never get back.
I stacked the last of the logs, sap sticking to my palms, and wiped my hands on my jeans. The wind knocked a branch loose from the birch and sent it rattling down the ice. Inside, they were still laughing.
For a second, I let myself believe this could be normal.
Most of my life, I’d lived with violence breathing down my neck. But nothing—nothing—had prepared me for the slow-burn panic of hiding a kid. All of a sudden, it made a hell of a lot more sense why Tristan was such an asshole sometimes…because he was keeping three kids safe, even though we all knew there were dozens, maybe hundreds, of people who would love to have his head on a platter.
Then I heard it—a car. Close.
The engine whined, tires chewing up snow maybe a hundred yards out. Not on our drive…not yet, but coming. My bodymoved before my brain caught up. I grabbed the axe, already turning toward the door.
Inside, I slammed the deadbolt home. Ruby looked up, and I caught her eyes. “Upstairs,” I said, low and fast. “Take Rosie. Hide.”
Her spine straightened, not with fear, but with focus. She crossed the room in two steps and crouched beside Rosie like this was just a game, voice light as she said, “Let’s go upstairs, baby. I want to show you something.”
Rosie giggled and followed without hesitation, her little boots thumping on the steps.
It made something in me twist.
She didn’t know what this was. Didn’t know what the world was really like. And I hadn’t been there to teach her.
There were people out there who would hurt her.
She needed to know that.
I just prayed she wouldn’t have to learn it today.
