12. Sutton

12

SUTTON

I stared at the man hunched over the water heater in one of the back storage rooms. This one was filled to the brim with cleaning supplies. Various mops, rags, bottles, and buckets. Between that, the massive water heater, and the plumber’s size, the space felt stifling.

I should’ve held on to that heat, pulled it into my bones to carry it with me for the freezing shower I’d likely be faced with when I finished my day. Just like I had for the past five days. The only saving grace was that Luca could take his showers after camp at the ice rink.

Five days.

The accusation hung in the air, proving both the fact that my landlord was a dick of epic proportions and that I was a total failure. It had taken me days to force Rick into getting a plumber out here. And I still hadn’t found an apartment for Luca and me.

Pressure built behind my eyes. Everything was either in an unsafe area or building, or far too small. Right now, my best option was a one-room guesthouse with a kitchenette. I might not be able to cook a full meal, but at least Luca and I would be safe.

As if the thought had conjured it, a text flashed on my phone.

Unknown Number

Come on, Blue Eyes. Help me out this once. I’d hate to have to go to the courts about custody of Luca.

Anger washed away the overwhelm in a flash. That was all Luca was to Roman—a pawn to be used in some disgusting game. He didn’t see my boy for what he was: kind, hilarious, and the best thing that had ever happened to either of us.

My stomach churned as I stared at the message. It didn’t matter that Roman would never get custody, he could still put Luca and me through hell trying. And given everything going on right now, I didn’t exactly have the funds for a top-notch lawyer.

I tapped on the screen and quickly blocked the number. I was done changing mine, I’d run out of excuses for why I was doing it, and Roman always seemed to find them anyway.

Taking a deep breath, I reminded myself that he had no idea where we were. And even if he did, he was too caught up in the throes of his addiction to make his way across the country or file any paperwork for custody.

“Ms. Holland, when did the heat go out?” the plumber asked, cutting into my mental spiral.

I tried to shake myself out of it the best I could. “Call me Sutton, Bernie. And it was sometime on Monday. I noticed it as we were cleaning up for the day.” It also meant we were forced to do dishes by hand, making sure to use bleach to sanitize. But more importantly, every time my patrons washed their hands, it was with ice-cold water.

He frowned at the large machine. “This should’ve been replaced years ago. You’re gonna need a new one.”

My head dropped, the pressure behind my eyes returning. This was Rick’s responsibility, not mine. But what were the chances of me getting him to pay for one quickly? “How much do they usually cost?”

Bernie scrubbed a hand over his red beard. “Anywhere from a thousand to two.”

My eyes fell closed. I told myself to keep breathing. Everything would be okay if I just kept up with the ins and outs. “Let me call Rick.”

Bernie made a humming noise in the back of his throat, and I knew he thought I was screwed. I didn’t disagree. So, I simply moved out into the hallway, noticing the strains of one of my favorite country artists coming over the speakers in the main café. I pulled out my phone and hit Rick’s contact number.

He answered on the fourth ring. “What now?” he clipped.

I stiffened but kept breathing, struggling to keep my tone calm. “Bernie’s here looking at the water heater.”

“You’re welcome, by the way. That’s going to cost me two hundred bucks.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. “He said the water heater needs to be replaced. That it should’ve been done years ago.”

Silence reigned on the other end of the line, then came a slew of curses. “He’s just trying to upcharge me. I’m not paying for a new unit. That’s ridiculous. You probably just messed something up.”

My back teeth ground together. “Rick, I have never touched that water heater. I have no reason to. It’s your job to keep this building in working order, not mine. So?—”

“Put Bernie on the phone,” Rick snapped.

I gripped the device tighter but stepped back into the tiny storage room. “He’d like to talk to you,” I told Bernie with a sympathetic look as I extended the phone to him.

Bernie groaned but took it. “Stop being such a dipshit and let me fix the nice lady’s water heater.”

My brows flew up. Apparently, Bernie was used to Rick’s runaround. I could only hear one side of the conversation, but it was clear Bernie was giving as good as he got. At least I hadn’t thrown him to the wolves unprepared.

“Yeah, yeah,” Bernie said and then handed the phone back to me.

I took it, pressed the device to my ear, and stepped outside again. “Rick?”

He grunted across the line. “I’ll get the water heater, but it’s going to take me a few days. I don’t have that kind of cash just lying around. ”

The hell he didn’t. I’d driven by the massive house Rick lived in, had seen the car he drove. Everything about his existence was over the top. You didn’t run two dozen rental properties without having an emergency fund for them.

“Please, Rick.” Shame washed over me at having to beg. But it was the last day of camp for the week. Luca would need to shower this weekend, and I wouldn’t put him under freezing water.

“That’s the best I can do.” Rick hung up without another word.

I gripped my cell so tightly it was a miracle the screen didn’t crack. Slowly, I pulled it away from my face and stared down at it. What the hell was I going to do?

The pressure behind my eyes pulsed in angry beats. A burn lit with each flare, tears demanding to break free. But I couldn’t let them. Because if I broke now, I might never get back up again.

The back door swung open, sending light and noise cascading into the hallway.

“Mom!” Luca yelled. “You won’t believe it! We had our first scrimmage, and I scored! It was the awesomest!”

I forced a smile to my face but felt my cheeks twitch with the effort. “That’s amazing, baby. I can’t wait to hear every detail.”

Cope moved in behind him, a grin tugging at his lips. “I definitely think we’ve earned some cupcakes. What’s the special today?”

Cope had driven Luca to and from camp every single day since he offered, but the only payment he’d agreed to take was cupcakes. And he had a thing for my more creative ones.

“How do you feel about orange Creamsicle?” There was a slight tremor to my voice I hoped like hell Cope couldn’t hear.

His gaze narrowed, scanning my face. As he did, I saw a flutter in his jaw muscle. “Speedy, why don’t you go tell Walter about your goal? I’ll come meet you for cupcakes and milk in just a second.”

I opened my mouth to argue. Luca was my buffer, my safety blanket. I knew Cope wouldn’t push to know what had happened with Luca present. But my kid was off like a rocket at the promise of telling someone else about his day’s triumphs .

Cope moved closer to me, making the hallway feel as small as the storage closet. “What happened, Warrior?”

The nickname was a knife to the heart, slicing through with vicious pain. The pressure behind my eyes threatened to break me wide open. “I’m not a warrior. Not even close. I’m barely holding it together.”

Cope moved in even closer, his hand slipping under my hair and kneading my neck. “Talk to me.”

He was the last person I should’ve been sharing any of this with. The last person I needed to lay my burdens on. But I found everything tumbling out of my mouth: the string of bad apartments, the run-in with Trace, him telling me a building wasn’t safe, Rick’s assholery…

The only thing I left out was Roman. Because that piece carried too much shame.

“And then the water heater broke on Monday. Bernie said we need a new one, but Rick is dragging his feet.”

Cope’s hand flexed around the back of my neck, and his expression went thunderous. The urge to take a giant step back was strong. This was the kind of fury I knew Cope played with, the rage his opponents faced.

“Are you telling me you’ve been taking ice-fucking-cold showers all week?” he snarled.

I swallowed hard. “Luca can shower at the rink, so it’s just me. It’s not that bad. I?—”

“Get your shit. Now. Luca’s, too,” Cope growled.

My jaw went slack. “Excuse me?”

Cope’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not staying in a place with no warm water. Not for one minute more. So, get your stuff. You’re moving in with me.”