Chapter 253

#Chapter 253 – Three Against One “You – you brought my son to visit my father in prison? Your prison? Which you didn’t tell me about?”

My mouth hangs open in shock and horror.

“Um,” Victor says, bashful. “Well, yes. That’s…the gist of it.”

“Oh my god,” I breathe, putting a hand to my chest.

Ian turns to me then, realizing that something is not right. “What?” he asks, looking between us. “Did I do something bad?”

“No, Ian,” Victor says, sighing and sitting up on his elbows. “It’s nice of you to wonder about your grandfather being comfortable. I just didn’t have the chance to fill your mom in on all the details yet.”

“Didn’t have the chance?” I bite out, glaring at him. “Or the inclination?”

Victor gives me an even stare. “All right, Evelyn,” he says calmly. “I am sorry that I put it off, I could have told you this morning, or last night, or any time – but you have to admit, there were other things on both of our minds.”

I bite my lip, realizing that he is perhaps right. Slowly I nod, admitting that my accusation is a little unfair.

“He’s safe, he’s well,” Victor says softly. “Can we talk about it in a little bit? Perhaps after…” he nods towards the kids and then mimes being asleep.

“I know what that means, Dad,” Ian says dryly, hanging his head to the side. “You can just say it.”

Alvin comes into living room then, his arms full of food. “Know what what means?” he asks, curious.

Ian points to the two of us sitting on the floor. “Mom is mad because dad didn’t tell her that we went to visit grandpapa in jail.”

“Oh,” Alvin says, raising his eyebrows and turning to me. “I knew.”

“Oh great,” I say sarcastically, looking around at the three of them. “So nice to be the only one left out.”

Victor opens his mouth to object but I interrupt, pointing a finger at all three of them in turn and giving them each a glare. “That’s it,” I say. “I’ve decided. I’m having eight more kids and they’re all going to be girls so that we can outnumber you boys. And then we’ll be the ones with the secrets.”

Victor laughs at this but Alvin and Ian go pale with horror, which makes me grin.

“No, mom!” Ian cries, as if it’s a fate worse than death. Alvin nods in fervent agreement with his brother.

“All right,” I say, leaning back against Victor, who lets out a breath and settles down next to me. “But if you don’t want that to happen, you all have to be very nice to me for the rest of the night. Starting with first pick of the snacks.”

Eager to oblige, Alvin hurries over to me with my options, which I sort through with discretion.

“Thank you,” Victor murmurs in my ear, pressing a kiss just behind it.

“We’re not done talking about it,” I say, turning to look at him. “But…I understand.” He gives me a warm, grateful smile and I turn my attention to my family, thinking a little about the conversation that I had with Bridgette earlier. Perhaps there’s room in me for a little more forgiveness, for lines a little less harshly drawn than I’ve held people to before.

After all, I’m not perfect either.

____________________ A few hours later, Victor and I finally pull the door shut on the boys’ room. He leans against it and I can see his exhaustion in the sigh that he heaves. I rub a hand over his back, understanding. Still, a little joy runs through me as I recognize that it’s not the kind of exhaustion that we felt when we were sick and trying to find a cure for the thing that was killing us.

It’s the wonderfully basic exhaustion of a dad who also has an important job with lots of responsibilities.

“Come on, Alpha,” I murmur, nudging him towards our bedroom. “Let’s get you to bed.”

Victor nods and lets me steer him through the door and over to the bed, where he sits down. I pamper him a bit then, going to the closet and picking out a fresh pair of pajamas for him, murmuring sweet compliments to him as I help him change and then pulling the blankets up over him before going to the closet myself to change.

I take a quick trip to the bathroom to brush my teeth and when I come back to bed, I turn off the light and curl up against my pillow, assuming he’s already asleep. I’m surprised, then, when Victor turns over to wrap his arm around me.

“Evelyn,” he says softly. “Are you up?”

“Yes,” I respond, curiously turning to look at him in the soft blue light of the room. “Is everything okay?”

Victor nods, pressing onward. “I want to tell you about your dad, about our visit to the prison. I’m sorry for not telling you earlier.”

“Victor,” I murmur, touched and lifting a hand to his face. “Thank you, baby, but you’re exhausted – you don’t have to tell me now. It can wait.”

I feel him shake his hand against my palm. “No, you were right earlier – it’s not right. I could have made time for it and I didn’t. I have time for it now.”

“Okay,” I whisper, taking my hand back and tucking it under my face, steeling myself for what I’m about to hear. I’m grateful for Victor’s warm arm around me, for his face close to mine, for his willingness to share his world with me, even when it’s hard.

“Did you know?” he starts quietly. “That I had your father under my custody?”

“I think I knew, a little,” I say, considering it. “I mean, I knew that he was alive, and I knew that he was under your control, but I honestly didn’t really think much about where he was.” I bite my lip, feeling guilty. I mean, he was never much of a father, but what does this say about me as a daughter that I didn’t even care to wonder?

Victor nods, understanding. “I have a small facility,” he says. “About an hour from here. I have him there, as well as Willard and Joyce. They’re well cared for and safe.”

I blink, my guilt increasing as I realize again that I haven’t even thought about the current status of my ex-husband or my ex-pack leader for a moment – even after hearing Emma talk about Joyce the other night, I hadn’t given it a thought.

God, talk about getting knocked from my high horse today. I had thought myself so considerate and moral before these conversations with Bridgette and Victor.

Victor continues, then, telling me all about his visit to the facility with Ian in tow. He tells me what Ian saw and heard, and what he didn’t. He tells me what my father said after, about his opinions of a Luna’s role in a pack. It’s hard to hear, of course, but nothing surprising. Victor finishes up by letting me know that he’s asked my father, Willard, and Joyce to consider the circumstances upon which they’d agree to be freed.

My eyebrows raise in surprise. “Really?” I ask, passively running my hand slowly up and down his arm.

“You’d…you’d let them out? After everything they’ve done to you?”

Victor sighs and shrugs. “If it were up to me, Evelyn, they’d spend the rest of their lives in containment, rotting slowly away in relative comfort and boredom. But…it’s not really up to me.”

“What?” I ask, confused. “Then who…”

Even in the dark, I see the significant look he gives me.

“Me?” I breathe. “You want me to decide what happens to them?”