Page 231 of The Bluffing Game

“About Toby,” I say.

Finally, she looks over at me. “What do you want to talk about, Mr. Black Leather Shoes? You adopted my son. So what? You have him. He’s yours. What more do you want from me?”

“I want to make sure you’re going to be okay. I want to facilitate a relationship between you and Toby. If that’s something you want. We spent a really long time trying to find you. As you know, Igor was a member of the Russian Mafia.”

“I knew he was Russian. I knew he was Mafia.” She shrugs. “I didn’t love him. He just gave me what I wanted when I needed it, and he took the boy. I gave him the boy. I didn’t care. I don’t want him. I’ve got other rugrats to take care of.”

“But he’s your son.”

She stares at me. “You know, when I was a little girl, I thought I would get married and live a happy life. I thought I would be so joyful, like the perfect little wife, and that’s just not me. I like to get high. I don’t know life without it. Igor—I didn’t love him. I didn’t even realize I was pregnant half the time. And to tell the truth, when he died, I was happy to hear that. He wasn’t a good guy. Only a couple of times in my life I felt bad. And it wasn’t when Igor died. It was when he took my son, not because I wanted the boy back, but because I knew he’d be another Igor, and the world didn’t need another Igor. I don’t know you from Adam, but the fact that you’re here, the fact that you speak about my Toby, it tells me he’s better with you than with me.”

“He’d love to know you as his mom if you were clean,” I say.

Brett is staring at me, his lips pressed together. He’s not saying anything, but he knows, like I do inside, that this conversation is going nowhere.

“He don’t need me in his life. I’ve tried to get clean, you know,” she says. “I’ve tried, and it don’t make no difference. I ain’t got nothing to live for.”

“You’ve got Toby. You’ve got your other kids.”

“I don’t have anyone.”

“Listen to me, Louisa. You don’t know me, and I don’t know you. And in any other circumstance, I would walk away. I am legally Toby’s father. I’m legally his caretaker. I’m his guardian, and I love him. I was there when Igor died—I saw him die—and I swore that I would take care of that little boy. And you’re his mom, and I want to be able to look him in the eyes one day and tell him that I did everything I could for you.”

“You don’t even know me,” she says. “Why do you care?”

“I think that’s the thing about life,” I say softly. “When you love someone, you’ll do anything for the people they love, and I love Toby. He might not be my blood, but he’s my boy, and you’re his mom. Brett and I want to try and help. We want to get you into a facility. You said your kids are with your mom. Is she sober?”

“Yeah. She don’t even like me seeing the kids. She thinks I’m a bad influence. She can barely feed them, but she does her best. I guess I could give her some of this money.”

“If you are okay with it, I can try and get them some help while you get help.”

“I can’t take Toby back. I just⁠—”

“Toby’s my son, and he will always be my son, and I’m not giving him up. That’s not why I’m here. I have to atone for my sins, and Igor’s death is my own fault.” I pause as I see her eyes drifting off. “Well, that doesn’t matter. I just want to make sure that you’re okay as best as we can.”

She falls back onto the bed and pulls her dress up. “Who wants to go first?”

“No, it’s not like that.” Brett shifts next to me. “She’s gone, Dalton. We should leave.”

“She’s his mom.”

I stare at him, and he nods.

My heart breaks for her that she thinks this is a transaction, like we want to take from her like every other man has. I wish she knew I was better. That I wasn’t that man. I wish she knew I could be chosen against the bear, but I don’t blame her for thinking we are just like the others.

“It’s not like that, Louisa. I promise. We just want to help you.”

She sits up, looking dazed and scared, and my mind races to Sage. To my darling, trusting Sage. To the man she would want me to be. To how I would want her treated.

“We’re here for you, Louisa. We’re not going to let anyone else hurt you.”

I was made to be a protector—I know that. And I realize at that moment that my care and concern isn’t just for those I love.

“Okay, ma’am, you’re going to come with me.”

“What? You’re not taking me anywhere, you⁠—”

“Louisa,” he says. “You want to feel happy again, like you did when you were a kid before you were doped up?”