Redemption Hills: The Complete Collection

3. Trent

THREE

TRENT

Groaning, I buried my face deeper into the pillow when my mattress was hit by a Richter eight. So much energy comin’ from the pint-size tot it was a wonder he didn’t bring down the house.

“Dad, Dad, Dad! You’ve got to get up and hurry it up quick.” He jumped at my side, his little feet creating a cataclysm on the bed. “It’s the very first day of school, and no way can we be late because I don’t want to go gettin’ into trouble. Gettin’ into trouble is bad, right, Dad?”

I hugged that pillow and willed myself to shake off the fog. The exhaustion. Because truth be told, three hours of sleep just wasn’t gonna cut it.

But he was the one thing that made it worth it.

One love.

One loyalty.

One reason.

“Right, Dad, right?” He kept bouncing away.

That time, I buried the groan into the down feathers before I forced myself to roll over, peeling my eyes open to the dawning day.

And there he was, the kid all sunshine and love and exuberance smiling down at me.

Gage.

My son.

Only thing brilliant and big enough to fill the crater burned through the middle of my black heart.

Only thing bright enough to give me a glimpse of the light.

He was the one good thing I had in my life. One thing I protected with that life, too.

He was dressed in jeans, a short-sleeved button up, and his checkered Vans. Looking like the budding badass that he was.

Except the skin of his arms and neck were covered in squiggles and lines and crude shapes drawn in ink.

What the fuck?

Sitting up, I stabbed my fingers through my bedhead, squinting through the blinding light. “What’s goin’ on there, little dude?”

I gestured at the shit he’d scribbled all over his body.

He stretched his arms out—far too proud. “What d’ya think, Dad? You like ’em a lot? Now I look just like you.” His caramel-colored eyes widened in anticipation. “’cept not as big yet, but I’m gonna be soon! Right, Dad, right?”

He started jumping again, little legs propelling himself as high as he could go, arms raised above his head with all that golden hair bouncing around his chubby face.

Kid cute as fuck.

A slight chuckle rumbled out, and I snagged him around the waist and tossed him onto his back on the bed. I started tickling his sides. “You think you’re gonna be as big as me, huh?”

Gage howled with laughter, clutching his stomach and kicking his feet. “You know it, Dad! I got to be.”

“You gotta be, huh?” I kept tickling him, but soft and with all the love I had for him.

He batted at my hands, laughing and squirming all over the place. “Yes, Dad, yes! I got to be! Otherwise, my uncles are gonna call me shorty for my whole life!”

“Rude.” I widened my eyes with the tease.

“The rudest,” he said with a jerk of his chin, resolute.

I slowed, unable to do anything but gaze down at this kid who was looking at me like I was his hero. Most precious grin spreading across his face, so massive it dimpled his cheeks.

Wanted to be that for him.

His hero.

His rock.

Kind of dad worthy of someone looking at him the way my boy did.

Like I wasn’t covered in scars and sin and shame.

Like my soul wasn’t shrouded in the blemish of the things I’d done.

I ran my hand over the top of his head, pained affection bleeding out. “I do know it. You’re gonna be so big. So strong. So good,” I promised.

Caramel eyes shined. “Just like you.”

Old grief clutched my chest, and I forced a smile. “No way. You’re going to be way better.”

“Those seem like really too high standards, Dad.” He said it all kinds of serious.

Laughter fumbled out, and I ruffled my fingers through his hair.

Fucking Logan.

“Sounds to me like you’ve been spending too much time with Uncle Logan.”

He sat up, more of that earnestness infiltrating his voice. “You crazy? There’s never too much Uncle Logan time.”

My grin was wry as I sat back and hooked my knuckle under my kid’s chin. “I bet he told you that, too.”

Gage scowled. “Bettin’s bad, Dad, don’t you know?”

Kid was a stickler for the rules.

The irony wasn’t lost on me.

I shook my head, my lips softening as I stared at the child who I’d do anything for. “You look super cool, man, but I think we’re gonna have to ditch the tattoos for your first day of school, yeah?”

A pout took to his face. “Oh man, how come?”

“Because I doubt your teacher is going to appreciate how dang awesome you are.” I shot him my most playful grin, though I was one-hundred-percent serious. Last thing I needed was some rigid bitch on my back.

Judging me.

Judging my kid.

“Go on and have Uncle help you get cleaned up. I’m going to grab a shower and I’ll be downstairs in a minute.”

“’Kay, Dad!”

He scrambled off the bed and went blazing out my bedroom door, his footsteps banging down the stairs.

A heavy sigh heaved from my lungs, and I tossed the covers and went for the massive shower in my bathroom. I scratched at my chin as I shuffled in, trying to stave off the desire to faceplant back into bed.

I turned the water on hot and let steam fill the room as I twisted out of my underwear so I could step into the spray.

My eyes dropped closed at the warmth.

In an instant, her face flashed behind my lids.

Shit.

Seemed no matter what I did, no matter how hard I tried to walk the straight and narrow, I always ended up chasing trouble. Hunting it, like I didn’t know how to stop.

Because there I was—struck with it—an errant bolt of lust that didn’t belong.

Eden Murphy.

That feisty little kitten who’d wanted to claw my eyes out last night.

Except she was the key to an entirely different type of trouble than I normally sought, and I was just fool enough to want to turn the lock.

No doubt, that was why I hadn’t kicked her to the curb. Why I couldn’t get her off my mind for a second last night or the fact she’d shown up in my brain first thing this morning, too.

I’d fucking eaten up the way she blushed and fumbled and lifted that chin. The way she came off so innocent but was clearly a fighter underneath.

My dick jumped, hard at the thought of her sitting there all prim in my office, nothing but her thundering heart and fumbling hands and tempting sweetness.

Way she’d gone straight fire in the kitchen before she’d softened like silk. Way her breath had skittered across my face and her honeyed scent had invaded my senses.

I’d bet that’s exactly what the girl would feel like—silk.

Like dipping my fingers into sweet honey.

My tongue lapping up the pure.

And I knew better than that.

Before I let the girl get me off track, I quickly washed, rinsed, and was out in less than five. I dried and tugged on some jeans, still rubbing the towel over my hair as I bounded downstairs.

House was one of those luxury cookie-cutter types. A one-in-four chance that your house was gonna be the exact same as the neighbor next door, but that shit still cost a small fortune.

Ceilings were high and the counters were quartz, floors a mix of gray hardwood and carpet.

Like the original Stepford wife herself had drawn the concept and done the decorating.

That shit didn’t matter, though. Only thing that did was it was a safe place for Gage. Place to raise him right. A big backyard. Kids to call friends. A park across the street.

A million miles away from where my brothers and I had grown up. A lifetime away from the sleazy city. From the depravity. From the grief.

From all the sordid bullshit we’d left behind.

I just hoped to fuck that world would never catch up to us.

Only goal I had in my pathetic life was to keep my brothers and my son safe.

One of those brothers was in the kitchen with Gage as I ambled in.

Logan, the happy motherfucker.

Dude cocked me a smug grin from where he stood at the island in front of where Gage was propped on the counter. With a washcloth, Logan was doing his best to erase the marks the kid had littered on his body.

“Ah, look it there, if it isn’t Princess Buttercup,” Logan called.

Since Gage was facing away, I took the opportunity to give Logan a finger.

My asshole brothers had been calling me that since we were kids and I’d tripped and rolled down a hill, shouting the whole way.

He cracked up.

“What’s wrong, sunshine? Someone seems…tense.” He pursed his lips like he was in deep contemplation as he dabbed at the ink on Gage’s arms. “Lonely, maybe? All the ladies hanging around the club ignoring you? That’s sad, brother. Better get some so you can stop moping around here being such a d-i-c-k. Just looking at you is ruinin’ this glorious, sunny day.”

I sent him another finger. “And you can F-off, dude.” I whispered it, too.

You know, since we were pros at letter cussing.

“And you know I don’t touch anyone at the club.” Spat that one because that rule suddenly tasted sour.

I was on a no-name basis.

No ties.

No attachments.

No chance of dragging someone into the ugliness of my past or them getting close enough to drive a knife into my back.

“My, my, someone is testy,” Logan tsked.

“I’ll show you testy,” I grumbled as I moved for the coffee maker. Dude gave me shit every second of his life, and I was the sucker who loved him for it, anyway.

Considering he sacrificed his nights to take care of my kid while I was at the club, he got away with it. Truth was, this life we’d built here wouldn’t work without either of my brothers. The support they gave. Only two people in the world I could really trust.

“Testy?” Gage piped in, his little voice rising as he tried to catch on to the topic of conversation. “Oh, oh! You think I’m gonna get to do a test at school?”

Clearly, he was failing miserably at catching on, thank fuck, since Logan the loudmouth didn’t know when to keep his pie hole shut.

But I guessed it was worth it because my kid was lighting up, thrilled at the prospect of a test. He whirled around to look at me as I filled a massive mug to the brim with steaming hot coffee.

A light chuckle rolled out, and I turned to rest against the counter while I took my first sip. “Think they’re gonna be testing you on the first day, huh?” I asked.

Gage grinned my way, all dimples and adorableness. “I hope so. I gotta get straights As. I got my pens and my pencils and my coloring crayons in my new backpack. I’m all ready.” He turned to Logan. “You wanna see, Uncle?”

He tried to wiggle out from under Logan’s washcloth. My brother looked at me from over his head. “Who is this kid?”

Gage tipped his head back to fully meet his eye. “I am Gage Michael Lawson.”

I choked out a laugh around my coffee.

Logan shook his head and tapped Gage’s nose. “Gage Michael Lawson who is from Mars.”

Gage scrunched up his little nose under his finger. “Mars. No way, Uncle. I’m from Redemption Hills, California, and I was born on August 17, 2016. I even got a burf certificate. Right, Dad?”

He was back to looking at me for approval. Way he always did. My heart pressed against my ribs. The love I felt for him nearly too much.

“That’s right, Gage.”

He turned back to Logan. “See, Uncle. You don’t know nothin’.”

Logan tossed a dumbstruck glance my way.

I hiked a shoulder. “What can I say? Kid has the smarts.”

Logan scratched at his shaven jaw. “Yeah, and apparently, I’m the one getting schooled around here.”

“Maybe you need to come with me and get some educations,” Gage said with a little shrug.

“I just might,” Logan tossed out as he fought laughter, his green eyes dancing with mirth. Asshole ran stocks for his clients. Made a ton of them millionaires, same as he’d made himself. Pretty sure he was stacked with the smarts .

My baby brother had the same black hair as me and our middle brother, Jud. But he’d gotten our mother’s eyes, these crystal-cut emeralds that sparked and played. Always bright and shining. Got her soft spirit, too.

Same as Nathan had possessed.

Grief tried to squeeze its way through, guilt twisting through me like the gutting of a blade.

I wrestled it back so it could fester where the demons writhed within.

I watched Logan with my son. With all the shit we’d been through, how my brother had turned out halfway normal, I didn’t know. Going through his life like every day of his childhood hadn’t been jacked.

It was the reason he was the only person I trusted with Gage. Reason the poor sucker had to play babysitter to a five-year-old every fuckin’ night where he lived three doors down.

Jud?

He was like me, through and through, though bearded and twice as thick. He owned a bike shop in the warehouse out behind the bar, living out an old dream the best that he could.

Two of us had built a small empire out of the rubble.

“Well, we better get going then if we’re gonna be to school on time, Uncle,” Gage told him. “We can’t be late. School starts at eight o’clock, on the dots.”

Anxiety rolled my spine. Hated the idea of my kid being in someone else’s care.

But I’d promised myself he would have as close to normal of a life as I could give him, and keeping him home, hidden away like some recluse, wasn’t going to give him that.

Logan lifted him from under the arms and set him onto the ground. “Sorry, shorty, but I think I’m gonna have to pass on school today. I might get in trouble if I don’t show up at work.”

“Then you might have to go to time out?” Kid asked it like the punishment might be a war crime.

That was the way I wanted it, and I was going to spend my life making sure he never knew about the cruelties of this world.

One life.

One loyalty.

One reason.

“And I don’t want that, do I?” Logan answered, voice deep. Like he got it, too. “Now get over here and give me a big hug before you go off and have your best day ever.”