Chapter 19

#Chapter 19 – Daddy’s House “Please,” I say, clutching the phone and trying to explain the situation to my landlord. “You don’t understand, this is an angry former client who has no grounds for this harassment – “

My boys are at Victor’s house, meeting Amelia, thank god. I don’t want them to hear any of this.

“It doesn’t matter to me, Ms. Ortega,” my landlord’s tinny voice zings through the phone. “It doesn’t matter to me if the client’s vandalism is unfounded – what matters is that my tenant is putting me in a situation where my home is being vandalized!”

I slap my hand to my forehead. Overnight, Emily came back and spraypainted w***e LIVES HERE all over my front windows. It was everything I could do to get it scrubbed off before Victor picked up the boys, but I guess I wasn’t fast enough.

“You have six weeks,” she says, prim and cruel. “Then I’m renting to someone else, someone who doesn’t do s*x work to pay my mortgage.”

I exhale, clenching my teeth against the rage that builds inside me. Her false accusations aside, it is unfortunately within her written rights to end my lease with six week’s notice, for any reason. “Fine,” I say, unwilling to fight anymore.

She hangs up and I rest my head back against my office chair. God. What the hell was I going to do now.

The time passes too quickly. I apply – quietly, discreetly – to every open house in the area, but every one tells me no. My landlord, unfortunately, has poisoned my name and my reputation.

The night before my lease ends, I sit up, alone, in the silence of my office. I don’t want to scare the boys, but we have to be out tomorrow and we have absolutely nowhere to go.

I even asked Mark for help, and Delia. They were sympathetic, of course, but they both live in one-

room apartments. Neither could offer me anything real. Delia even called her parents, in Ohio, and they said they’d be happy to take us in – but I don’t want to uproot my boys like that.

Luckily, the boys been distracted, spending so much time with their dad. I never thought I’d be grateful to him for taking them away from me.

The next day is Monday, so I pack the boys off to school. When they’re gone, I head to the realtor’s office, ready to chase up one last lead. The realtor herself is sympathetic, but the lead goes nowhere.

When we arrive to view the house, the key is missing from the hide-a-key.

The realtor twists her mouth at me, clearly feeling bad. “I’m sorry, Evelyn,” she says. “Looks like they got to this one as well.”

I sigh and climb back into my car, heading home. What the hell was I going to do?

As I pull up my street, my eyes find sheer chaos. s**t s**t s**t, I think, throwing my car in park, leaping out and running towards the front door where guys are throwing my stuff – all of my stuff, the boys’

toys, my linens, the food from my fridge – onto the front lawn.

“Stop!” I cry, running to hold them back. “You don’t understand, I’m trying to leave!”

“Keep your hands off me!” One of the guys says, brusk. “You’ve been evicted, we’re just doing our job.”

With that, he dumps the box with my laptop onto the sidewalk. It lands with a sickening crunch.

“Be careful!” I cry, gathering it up, checking to see if it’s broken. It lights up, and I quickly scan through it to make sure the file aren’t corrupted. Thank god – everything, my client list, my consultations – it’s still intact. I take the box and stow it away my car as the men continue to upend my life.

Another car pulls up – Mrs. Welk – and my boys climb out of the back seat, crying their eyes out. I make eye contact with Mrs. Welk, intending to thank her for driving the boys home after their Monday chess club, but she just sneers at me. Fine. I ignore her and turn to my boys.

“Boys, it’s okay,” I say, crouching down next to them, ready to assure them that everything is fine. But wait – I look over the boys and realize that they’re not crying because of the house, they’re in pain –

Their hands are covered in blood, with tiny little cuts all over. Alvin has a scraped knee, and Ian a shallow cut on his forehead – what –

“Mama,” Alvin cries wrapping himself around me. Ian does the same, but without words.

“Boys,” I say, true fear leeching into my voice. “Are you okay? What happened to you?”

They continue to cry, reluctant to tell me. I peel them off me and stand them with their backs to the house, lest they see what’s happening and further freak out. I shush and cosset them until they calm down, telling them that everything’s okay.

“Now,” I say, softly, gently. “What went wrong?”

Ian begins, as usual. “They were just so horrible about you, mama,” he says.

Alvin sniffs, trying to be brave. “They kept saying you were – you were a prota- prostatute,” he says, pronouncing the word wrong, but getting his meaning across anyway.

“They say you have a thousand boyfriends,” Ian goes on, “and that you let them do bad things with you –“

“And that they give you money –“

“And that you like it –“ At this Ian and Alvin start to cry harder, and I hold them close, filled with rage at the horrible children who would say such vicious things to my boys.

Seriously, why am I so eager to stay here, if this is how they’re treated at their school?

My mind finally made up to leave, I whisper to the boys to be strong, to not believe anything those stupid kid at school said, and to go and sit in the car while mommy makes a phone call.

They do so, obedient, glad to have someone else in control. As they go, I raise my phone, intending to call a moving company.

I see a dark figure from the corner of my eye. I turn and see – of course, knowing my luck – Victor standing there, mad as hell.

I let my shoulders slump for a minute, taking a deep breath, preparing myself for this. Then I walk over to him, pasting a sunny smile on my face. “Hey Vic! Beautiful day we’re having here. Are you just by for a visit!?”

Victor glares down at me, unamused. “What the f**k is going on, Evelyn,” he says low, dangerous.

“Why are my sons’ belongings being thrown all over the lawn?”

“Why are you even here, Victor,” I say, matching his tone and mocking him. “I texted you to cancel the boys’ visit. Clearly,” I wave my hands towards my mess of a front yard, “we have other stuff going on.”

“I’m serious, Evelyn,” he snarls, “what’s happening!? Are you being evicted!?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, Victor,” I hiss, stepping closer and snarling into his face. “But yeah, obviously. But, as I have done a thousand times in the past six years, I’m going to figure it out.”

Victor shakes his head at me and surveys the scene, his Alpha need to control and dominate any situation coming out. Then he takes three steps onto the lawn and whistles, clapping his hands to get the men’s attention.

Surprisingly, they stop what they’re doing. “Thank you for your work,” Victor says, assured. “You are now finished – my own team will come and complete this job. I will ensure that you are paid.”

“The lady said we needed –“

“I said,” Victor says, raising his voice and snapping his head towards the defiant worker. “That you are finished.”

The men look at each other, shrug, and put the boxes and furniture down where they are. They head to their truck and drive away.

I don’t admit it to Victor, but I am grateful. Now I can get all this stuff back into the house – try to figure out the next steps –

“Evelyn,” Victor says, and I can hear the anger building in his voice. “How could you let it get like this.

To think of my boys – my boys – being evicted from their home – I thought you were a good mother, how could I have misjudged –“

“Don’t you dare,” I say, turning on him and growling, my fingers curling as I feel the press of my claws against my fingertips. I am very nearly feral now, ready to defend myself – my motherhood – to the very end.

“Don’t you ever suggest to me that I have been a bad mother. I have done everything for these boys and none of this is my fault.” I fight my tears back as hard as I can.

To my surprise, Victor puts his hands out, seeking to reconcile. “All right, Evelyn,” he says softly, breathing evenly. “All right.”

I nod and fall back into a less defensive stance.

“I believe you,” Victor says, coming forward and putting an arm around my shoulders. “You’ll tell me everything. But first, let’s get these boys out of here before they see their life spread out on your lawn.”

I nod and let him lead me away. We move towards my car and Victor urges me towards the front seat.

Then he opens the back door and peeks in at the boys, who smile at him, hesitant.

“Hi, daddy,” Alvin ventures.

“Hey guys.” He claps his hands, trying to bring a little joy to the scene. “Hey, guess what – today is a big day – you get to move into a brand new big house!” The boys look at each other, smiles creeping across their faces.

“Wha – Victor, I don’t –“

He looks at me and nods, asking, silently, for me to trust him. I do.

“And do you want to know the best part?” The boys nod eagerly. “It’s right behind daddy’s house, so you can come over every day!”