Caught by Emma Louise

Chapter Thirty-Five

"And dis one goes here. Mommy, are you looking at dis?" Cassidy's little chubby fingers dig into my cheeks as she drags my face down to look at her. I'm supposed to be watching her complete a puzzle, but I'm lost inside my head. Just like I have been for the two days since getting out of the hospital.

"I'm sorry, baby. Show me again."

"Fine, but watch me good dis time, Mommy," she tells me sassily. The smile that hits my face feels foreign but good. Drawing in a deep breath, I push out all thoughts of anything that isn't my daughter. Everything else can wait because if the last few days have taught me anything, it's that life can be flipped on its ass at any moment. I managed to make it out of my ordeal in one piece, but the reality of it is I was so incredibly lucky. Any number of things could have gone wrong, and I wouldn't be here today to sit in the sun watching my daughter do puzzles.

"Where is little miss sassy Cassy?" I hear bellowed from the back door.

"Fewix!" Cass yells excitedly, launching herself off my lap and running off. I guess showing me her puzzle skills wasn't all that important after all. I can't help but smile as she throws herself at Felix, almost nailing him in the balls with a foot as he swings her around. She squeals in delight as he lifts her by one arm and one foot as he walks my way.

"Here, I think this belongs to you," he announces before dropping a very giggly little girl gently into my lap. "Mommy, can I go get Uncle Fewix the picture that I drawed in school today?"

"Of course you can, love bug." Kissing her hair, I drop her to her feet and watch as she scampers into the house. For some reason she's taken to calling all of the guys Uncle over the last few days; I assume because of how much they have been hovering over me. They've been like a bunch of mother hens since Max brought me home from the hospital. Luckily, none of them seem to mind that they've inherited a slightly sassy five-year-old niece. I bet that wasn’t what they were expecting when they hired me to work for them.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine. Just like I was when you called and asked me this morning before I’d even woken up. And when you text me an hour ago to ask if I wanted food,” I say, pretending that I don’t secretly love having someone who cares so much about me and my child. No, not just someone, multiple people who have all have proved these last few days that Cass and I matter to them.

"No headache?"

"No, but I'm sure I’ll have one soon enough if you don't stop asking me how I'm feeling," I drawl with fake as hell annoyance.

"Well, if you didn't try to act like superwoman when you've been hurt, we might start believing it when you say you're feeling okay," he fires back, but there's no heat in his words; just a thread of amusement.

"It isn't acting like superwoman; it's just trying to keep things normal for Cassidy."

"Speaking of little miss, is she doing okay?"

"Luckily the cuts and bruises can be covered, so she doesn't know anything is going on." When I woke up in the hospital, I expected to find myself black and blue from being thrown around so much, but aside from some small cuts to my arms, a bloody nose, and a mild concussion, I was fine. Sure, I ached a little when I moved, and my wrists were cut up from the zip ties, but long sleeve sweaters hid those, and a heavy hand with some concealer helped with the discoloring under my eyes. On the outside, I look just fine. The inside is going to need a bit more work, but at least I could shield Cass from the worst of it.

"How's he doing?" Felix asks, nodding his head toward where Max stands on the deck, his back to us as he stares out at the still water. He's been doing a lot of that since I've been home. If Cass and I are out here, so is he. He doesn't sit with us, but we're never out of his sight. When we're inside, he hovers on the periphery of whatever we're doing. If I need something, he's there. Food, drinks, the freaking TV remote. He's like a mind reader, magically appearing with whatever I need before I can make a move to do it for myself.

The one thing he isn't doing? Talking. At least not to me. His brother has been here a lot. I think in his mind I was taken from right under his club’s nose.

"He's..." I wrack my brain, trying to think of the right words to describe how Max has been over the last three days. "He's distant."

"Blames himself," Felix murmurs softly.

"That's just silly," I start to say, but I’m reminded of how he was at the hospital that day, when he told me how responsible he felt for everything. I don’t feel that way in the slightest, but I realize I’ve done nothing to make sure he knows that I don’t.

"Didn't see it myself. I was out on the road, but the guys have shared. He didn't take it well when we couldn't find you." My eyes swing to look at my friend as he speaks. I haven't let myself think too much about what happened, my mind not ready to process it all just yet, but it hasn't occurred to me what the people looking for me went through. "He told us about the clubhouse; he thinks it's his fault that you ran. You know he wouldn't have—"

"I know." I cut him off, not needing the reminder of that awful scene. "He told me what happened, and I believe him." It might be naïve of me to accept Max's word that he wouldn't have done anything with the blonde from the bar, but I don’t have to even think about it; I trust him. "Even so, he owes me nothing in that respect. It isn't like we were in a good place. I had ended it, so he was technically free to do what he wanted."

"You're not the person I thought you were if you believe any of the crap that just came out of your mouth," Felix says, causing my jaw to drop in surprise. "Open your eyes, Darcey. He's all in with you and has been all this time. Don't try to downplay what you have."

"Had," I correct stupidly, not even knowing why I’m being like this.

"Have," he repeats stubbornly. "Let yourself have this. You both deserve it."

I want to believe what he's saying. I want to, but the walls of self-doubt that have built up over the years are too thick. After a lifetime of being told I'm not worthy of affection, not worthy of love, I have no choice but to believe it.

I'm saved from having to continue this conversation when Cass comes running out of the house, a sheaf of papers clutched in one hand, one of her new dolls in the other. She goes straight to Felix, climbing into his lap like she’s been doing it her whole life. I think I need to talk to my girl about respecting people's boundaries.

I watch as they coo over her drawings, Felix proving yet again what a great guy he is when he tells her he loves her work. I love my kid; I think she's the best thing since sliced bread, but even I would have to say that her drawings are just plain awful. Her heavy hand with a crayon leaves little more than slashes and swirls on the page.

"Dis is me, and dis is you. Dis is Uncle Gabin, and dis is Uncle Crew," she chirps happily, pointing out the various multi-coloured shapes on the page.

“Where’s mommy?” Felix asks as he squints down at the multi-colored blobs on the page.

“Doing' laundwy,” she says without missing a beat, getting a loud chuckle from the both of us.

"And who is that? Is it Uncle Max?"

"No, silly," she giggles, a rare smile lifting my lips at the sound of it. "Max is not my uncle. He's gonna be my daddy." Felix's eyes fly to meet mine as I let out a startled gasp.

"What?" I ask, the question coming out on a wheezed breath.

"Max lives here with us, Momma. And he kisses you and holds you hand. That means he's gonna be my daddy, right? Cos that's what daddies do. I saw Aara’s daddy do that to her mommy all the times." She babbles on, oblivious to the fact that she’s just cleaved my heart in two.

"Cassidy, I..." How the hell am I supposed to answer that? My heart wants me to tell her that yes, Max will be her daddy because there is not a doubt in my mind that he would be the absolute best man she could ever ask to have in her life. But my head tells me that it won’t work out like we both evidently want it to; nothing ever does for us.

"I think this masterpiece needs to be on display," Felix announces, rising to his feet with Cass in his arms. Dropping her to her feet, he tells her to go get the magnets ready for them to put the pictures on the fridge. He waits until she's halfway to the house before he crouches next to my chair. Lifting my hand from where they're clenched in my lap, he gives me a reassuring squeeze.

"He wants that. He wants to be that for the both of you; you just have to let him in."

"It isn't that easy. I'm not good enough." Overwhelming emotions that swell inside of me makes the words come out thick. Tears fill my eyes, and my heart thunders ferociously in my chest. Everything I’ve been keeping bottled up inside, all my wants, hopes, and dreams, the ones I’ve ignored for more years than I can count, they all threaten to overwhelm me.

"You need to stop believing everything you think about yourself, and start listening to the people around you. I wish you could have seen them, the room full of people who were ready to tear the city apart to find you. Why were they there?” he asks, but there’s no way I can formulate an answer right now. “They were all there for you because you mean something to us, to Natalie and Liam. But most of all, you mean everything to him." lifting a finger he points to where Max is now facing us. I can't see his eyes from here, but I know they're somber, watchful, and always making sure I'm okay. Once again, tears sting the backs of my eyes as desperation claws at me, desperation to believe what Felix is saying.

"Let yourself be happy; let him make you happy. What’s the alternative? You both end up miserable and alone? Take a chance, Darcey. Stop letting the past win. Break the cycle you’ve been trapped in, and show Cass what it's like to be in a healthy, happy relationship."

I'm on my feet before he's even finished speaking, my eyes never leaving Max's face. I watch as his body locks tight when I start moving. His safe, strong arms that have been crossed over his wide chest move down to his sides, like he's getting ready to follow no matter where I run.

The first few steps I take are hesitant, but soon enough I'm taking long, sure strides toward him until I'm running as fast as I can to get to him. The sudden need to be with him, to be as close as I possibly can be is overwhelming.