Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 72496 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72496 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
She was clearly ready for date night.
And so was Junior.
He handed off Bam-Bam to me, then made a beeline for her throat with his tongue, waved us off, fumbled with his keys from the counter while she managed to grab her purse and not break a heel, and then they were gone.
No goodbyes.
No instructions.
Gone.
And I was holding a clean toddler who stared at me like he was going to break me and enjoy every second of it.
The door slammed shut.
Ivan cursed and moved slowly toward me. “You think that… um, they’re going to make it past the driveway acting like that—well, at least their lust hasn’t worn off, probably because they’re up all hours of the night with Satan.” He walked over and tapped Bam-Bam’s nose. “Hi little guy.”
“Don’t call him Satan!”
Ivan smirked. “I was talking about you, not the baby. He’s perfect.”
I rolled my eyes. “Then you take him while I make sure there isn’t poop anywhere else.”
“Suuuurre I can inspect poop, can’t I little dude? Plus, it’s only him it’s not like Ash and Annie came by to drop off—”
“Ash what?” Ash stormed into the house with his one-year-old, a giant diaper bag, a grin, and so many things left unsaid. His hair was tied into a knot on his head, he was wearing a black suit jacket, jeans, and smelled too good to be just stopping by. “Heard Serena was betraying me by going out on a date night so I figured I’d join in, plus now you guys match, each can take a kid, it’s perfect. I like clean math, don’t you like clean math… Ivan?”
He said this as he handed over the cutest baby ever, that still wore diapers, puked often just because he was learning violence at a young age, and often sneezed out any sort of substance that went into his mouth.
Ivan handed me Bam-Bam so fast my head spun.
Please, and he said he didn’t have favorites.
I took Bam-Bam, and he pulled my hair, not the sort of hair pulling I had in mind for date night. I untangled his grubby hands. He was already testing me while Ivan, for the first time in days, looked down at the little one and smiled. “We’ll have a good time.”
“Keep them alive.” Ash slapped Ivan on the back. “We’ll grab him around ten, as far as Bam-Bam…” His voice trailed off.
He stared, and Bam-Bam straight-up tilted his head and said, “Thank you.”
For no reason.
Only it sounded like “Fuck you” every time.
We were always confused if he just couldn’t say his T’s or if he truly meant what he said.
Some days, I think he honestly knew the words and meant them.
I shuddered and held him closer while Ash cleared his throat and murmured, “Welcome, little dude, and on that note.”
He stalked out of the house.
“Walt.” Ivan’s tone said it all, like he had already given up now that we were babysitting both kids. “He even looks like a Walt, what the hell kind of Italian name is Walt? Do they really want him to grow up to be an accountant? It’s like they spoke nerd over him!” He paused and caught his breath, then used one finger to point at the poor infant and whispered like Walt knew words already. “Walt is not a killer’s name.”
Walt looked up at him and giggled, he had a full head of jet-black hair and the prettiest blue eyes, one small dimple on his right cheek and lashes that I would kill for. Ivan was right, the guy looked like he wanted to dance in a field of daisies and burst out into song, then knit a sweater just in case someone caught a chill.
Whatever. I wouldn’t admit Ivan was right, I think that was part of the rules the Family built for us, don’t give in, even if you’re wrong, it just starts arguments.
I set Bam-Bam down. “Yes, because that’s what you should think when you birth new life into the world… might name him Damon, kind of sounds like Demon, he could kill people.”
Ivan held Walt against his chest and pulled down his little burp rag. “It’s like being excited that your kid will one day become a sociopath rather than go to college and shed a tear over it.”
“Yes.” Bam-Bam chose that moment to give me a thumbs up, then run into the wall before falling down, then jumping up and sprinting into the living room. “My thoughts exactly, do you ever just like look at Bam-Bam and think, yeah, he’s going to be a drug lord? Because I often think that may be his journey.”
Ivan looked around the corner while Bam-Bam stacked his different snacks in a row as if he was getting ready to sell them to the highest bidder. “Guaranteed, if I handed him a chocolate bar that little shit would still only hand over one bag of fruit snacks. A chocolate bar should at least equal three packs.”