23
VIVIEN
“Fuck, that stings,” Dillon hisses as he lies on his stomach on the couch in our formal living room while Audrey tends to his injury.
“Stop being such a baby. I’m only cleaning the wound.”
I’ve watched silently as Audrey helped him to remove his hoodie and shirt and lie down, saying nothing as my heart ached at the sight of the scorpion tattoo on his back. Dillon told me once it signified determination, rebirth, and resilience. Now I know the missing pieces of the puzzle, it makes so much sense.
Without thinking, my fingers trail over the edge of the design while Audrey threads the needle, ready to stitch him up. She doesn’t have any local anesthetic and Dillon refused alcohol, so this will hurt like a bitch. Perhaps I can distract him. “Did you know if you are born under the totem of a scorpion in Native American spirituality, it means you are defensive? That you should be wary of threats and protect yourself from them with speed and stealth and always strike first. After I learned that about scorpions, I thought it interesting you would choose to ink yourselfwith one.”
“You googled my tattoo?” he asks, in between clenching his jaw. “That sounds very stalkerish.”
I roll my eyes as Audrey concentrates on his back, holding his skin together with one hand while she stitches with the other. “Don’t get a big head. You know your tattoos intrigued me. Did you know what it represented when you chose it?”
“Of course, I did. Why else would I pick a scorpion? Ah, fuck.” He squeezes his eyes closed and bites down on his lip.
“I’m almost done, and you’re doing great,” Audrey says.
“Yay! Do I get a lollipop when you’re finished?”
“It’s not advisable to tease the doctor when she’s currently got a sharp needle pressed against your skin,” I warn. “And stop deflecting. That ink is the physical manifestation of your vengeance plan. Isn’t it?”
“Every time I’d look at it in the mirror,” he pants, grinding his teeth to the molars. “It would remind me I needed to strike back. That no one else would protect me if I didn’t protect myself.”
Audrey and I exchange sad expressions as she sets the needle down. Dillon has been cruel and heartless and done a lot to hurt me. There is no excusing that. But there is no denying how he was grievously wronged and how much his life has been shaped by Simon’s abandonment of him. No child deserves that. So much of the enigma that is Dillon makes more sense to me now I have all the facts.
“I just need to give you a tetanus shot, and then we’re done,” Audrey explains.
Outside in the hallway, I hear Easton arguing with Angela. I told his nanny to keep him out of here, because I don’t want him seeing Dillon’s injury. Thankfully, he didn’t see him getting stabbed back at camp. That reminds me I promised him he could have some school friends over this afternoon. It will help to ease the disappointment of missing his hike. I make a call to the guy who usually supplies us with bounce houses, offering him double if he’ll come over ASAP and set one up.
“You’re throwing a party?” Dillon asks, wincing as he sits up straighter. Audrey is packing her supplies away in her medical bag.
I avoid looking at his broad chest and ripped abs because he hasn’t lost an inch of his hotness and I don’t need to be reminded of it right now. Audrey has no such qualms, staring at his body like he was chiseled from marble by Michelangelo.
“I promised Easton he could have some friends over this afternoon.”
“Can I stay?” he asks, and I lift my eyes to his pleading ones. My chest inflates and deflates as I contemplate what to do. “Please,” he whispers, and I can’t deny him after he threw himself in front of a crazy Reeveron fan for me.
“Okay, but you’re here as his uncle, and that’s the way it’s got to be for now.”
“That’s not a problem.” He darts in, planting a kiss on my cheek. “Thank you. I promise you won’t regret it.” He flashes me a giddy smile, and my heart jumps.
“Famous last words, Dil.Don’tmake me regret it.”
* * *
“So, have you decided to let him in?” Audrey asks a while later as we prepare snacks in the kitchen for Easton’s incoming guests. The police have come and gone, confirming they have the crazy bitch in custody. I will sleep easier tonight knowing that. I glance out the window, needing eyes on Easton to reassure myself he’s okay. I can see Dillon and E in the near distance from here. Dillon is showing him how to spin the yo-yo, demonstrating more patience than I thought he possessed, and Easton is hanging off his every word. It’s fair to say my son has been enthralled by him from the second he climbed into our car.
“Yes, but it will be baby steps. I need to ensure Dillon understands that.”
“I think you’re making the right decision.” She dumps chips into a bowl as I finish slicing the apples.
“You do? I thought you were anti-Dillon.”
“I’m anti anything that hurts you or my godson.” She pops a chip in her mouth while tossing the empty bags in the trash. I wash my hands in the sink while we both stare out the window at father and son. It brings a massive lump to my throat to see them together. “I’m not saying I’ve forgiven him, because he has pulled some terrible shit, but I believe he deserves a chance. If not for him, for Easton.”
I pour two glasses of wine because I have a feeling I will need some alcoholic courage today. “I’ve been trying not to think about him,” I admit, watching him race Easton toward the playground. Dillon is wearing one of Reeve’s shirts because his own clothing is covered in blood. Giving it to him was awkward in the extreme, for both of us, but it’s not like any of my shirts or E’s would fit him. “Seeing him in Reeve’s shirt even feels like a betrayal.”