Page 8 of Love Notes & Lifelines
“Why isn’t Davis taking care of his girls?” My jaw aches. It turned to stone the second I saw the girls. The oldest is the spitting image of my sister.
The old man’s features morph into a sadness I can’t begin to fathom. The little girl in the corner of the room lays on her bellywith markers in both hands as she colors in a book on the floor. Her feet are pointed to the ceiling and she swings them side to side. Cally used to do her homework that way—hell, she talked on the phone that way too.
“You truly haven’t kept in touch with anyone in Sailport Bay?”
“You understand why I haven’t,” I say through clenched teeth. Something cracks. It could have been my neck or a molar, I have no idea. My entire body is threatening to crumble as if I’m an old building and a wrecking ball just crashed through my center.
He nods, only once, and the disappointment in his features causes my knuckles to clench. Caleb has stayed shockingly silent since we walked in and were ambushed by crying children. I swear his left eye twitches in time with the little one’s drooling.
“Davis was killed in an accident before Ruby was born.”
My fist lands on my heart and pounds against my chest as though I’m trying to jumpstart it myself.
“Cally said you’re the only one she trusts with her babies. She’s relying on you to give them the life she no longer can.”
An image of a teenage Cally ushering me away from our house with angry, shouted words trailing us strikes my conscience like an aggravated snake.
Where the hell did that come from? Was it real?I don’t have many memories from my childhood. My therapist said I blocked them out, but why would I do that? I just assumed it was normal. Who remembers stuff from thirty years ago?
“What if he refuses them?” Caleb speaks, drawing my attention, but his face is an icy mask of indifference. Even the seemingly happy baby curls in on herself.
I may behave like an asshole most of the time, but even I know there’s a heart buried under all this denial. There’s no way I could turn away innocent children—my nieces.
My fucking nieces.
“The next living family member is Danica Delacroix,” Harold informs me with raised brows—silently communicating that he’s aware of how vile that woman is. “And she wants the girls.”
Fuck. Who would she turn them into?
Cally made her choices. She told me our father was right to disown me, that I’d only bring the company down. She said she was choosing the Delacroix family over me, and she always would, but she wasn’t a bad person—not really—not the Cally I grew up with. This is too much. It’s all too much. I can’t process anything around me.
“Perfect. There’s your out, Beck. Let’s get the paperwork started and leave Mr. Sterling here with these—these—things.”
“Mr. Fairfax, I implore you to take a moment with your clie?—”
“They can’t go to that woman.” My voice is monotone but clear as a lightning strike.
“I was hoping you’d say that.” Harold visibly relaxes. “Danica is…”
“A piece of shit,” I supply.
His face turns crimson.
“Are you still the Delacroix’s attorney as well?”
“I can’t speak about other clients, Becker, you know that.”
“It’s Beck,” I snap. “My father called me Becker. He’s dead and so is that name.”
Elijah uses it now to rile me up, but this—this is something different.
The little girl in his lap watches me with wide eyes and a trembling lower lip. Damn it. I didn’t mean to scare her.
“I don’t know the first thing about children.” My voice wavers with insecurity.
“Exactly why allowing someone else to care for them is best,” Caleb says.
Harold is quick to cut in. “I’ve gathered all the information you’ll need, as well as what we could grab from their home, given the circumstances. Cally made sure the girls were well taken care of with your cousin until it was time for me to bring them to you.”
