Page 99 of Deacon

The trash was taking itself out.

I took a deep breath and made a mental note to call my lawyers.

For now, though, I wanted to lock the world out.

All I yearned for was the company of Deacon, Raff, and even Christine.

I craved a lovely breakfast on the terrace, looking out to sea, with my true family.

Slipping my phone into my pocket, I grabbed my crutches beside my bed, hopped up, put on my robe, and hobbled out of my room.

Heading to the kitchen, I found a pancake fest well underway.

‘Mum, we made blueberry pancakes for you,’ Raff called out, grinning.

‘Thank you and good morning to you too, honey,’ I told him, setting a crutch aside to ruffle his hair.

I kissed his brow as he returned to his breakfast.

‘Hey, you,’ Deacon rasped as he stepped to me.

My device went off again with another message.

When I reached for my phone, I slid the device from my pocket.

With a twist of his lips, Deacon took it from my hand, tossed it onto a console, and pulled me into a hug.

‘You OK, malkia?’

‘I’m livid, but I’m not broken,’ I murmured into his chest as he peered down at me.

‘I’m here for you if you want to talk about it or if you’d prefer a distraction.’

This man.

‘Also, if you want to cry, you’ve got a shoulder, Ana.’

I sighed. ‘Haven’t we done enough of it?’

He tilted his head, then tipped my chin up and stroked my cheek with his thumb.

‘Whatever it takes to heal, mama. We promised each other that, didn’t we?’

My lips curved into a wry smile. ‘Yes. Got it, D.’

I buried my face in his muscled chest, arms around his sinewed waist, breathing him in as calm flooded me.

‘Pound the shit out of some pillows if you have to,’ Deacon urged, as his hands glided over my back. ‘Feel the anger and release it.’

‘I will,’ I told him, even as Raff left the table and ran to us, perplexed.

‘What are we hugging for?’

Deacon winked down at our boy, then pulled him into our shared embrace. ‘How about because we care for each other?’

‘I know we do, but this is different. What’s Mum going on about?’ my wily son pushed.

I smiled at him, awed by his astuteness. ‘Seeing the truth for what it is.’