Perfect Storm: Life Sucks, #6

By Elise Faber

He left her.

Now she was back…with his son in tow.

Four years ago, he'd been a jerk with a wild side, a messed-up head, and a penchant for breaking hearts.

But he'd been a special brand of jerk to Kim.

Mostly because she was incredible. Smart, funny, beautiful. He'd seen a future with her, and that terrified him…

So he'd broken things off. Cut ties, lost her number, and moved on before she could move on from him.

But now she was back.

Now she was back, and she wasn't alone.

His son was with her.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Elise Faber
• Release date: Dec 15, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215222621

Book preview

One

Caleb

Blood. Guts.

And gore.

He shuddered, and he hadn’t even been in the hospital room.

All Caleb had was his imagination…and pop culture…and the horror stories his mom had told him.

Five sons.

There was plenty of horror.

He loved his siblings, but he’d spent too much time in hospital waiting rooms of late, waiting for babies to be born.

Imagining all that gore.

And then visiting those babies that had been born.

All while expecting to be coated in puke or spit-up or poop at any point.

His siblings found this hilarious…so much so that his fear of the tiny blob human-like things had become a running joke that had overtaken Carter getting shot in the ass.

Sigh.

Family.

He couldn’t live with ’em…

Okay, he couldn’t live with them—hence having his own place—but he also definitely couldn’t live without ’em—hence his own place being nearby.

He loved his family.

They were nosy and interfering and awesome and amazing.

He was completely cognizant of how lucky he was.

It was just…babies.

Shudder.

The automatic doors leading out of the hospital opened in front of him, and he stepped out into the afternoon air, planning to head home and work on some drawings. He was an architect, had recently set up shop in the small, coastal town of Stoneybrooke.

It was quaint and quiet…and small.

But his brothers were here. His parents lived close.

And anyway, after living in big cities for a number of years, he was more than happy to be settling somewhere small and quiet.

He turned for the parking lot, spotting his truck in the distance like the safety beacon from the gore and puke and poop it was, and picked up his pace, his mind already on the things he needed to tweak for the house his brother-in-law Rob was going to build in the next few months.

If he shifted the window in the kitchen to the left, they’d have room for the—

"Oof."

He grunted, rocking back slightly on his heels, having been run into by a…tiny human.

Sorry, buddy, he said, crouching down and snagging the kid’s arm when he staggered back a step and nearly fell. You okay?

Big hazel eyes glanced up at him.

His lower lip wobbled.

Shit.

Tears.

Those were nearly as bad as gore and puke and—

One glistening drop slid down the little boy’s cheek.

Um. Fuck did he do now?

Distraction. He needed a distraction and he needed it quick.

Hey, what’s on your shirt? he asked. Is that a train, or a—

"Cole! Oh my God, Cole! You can’t run off like that, baby." A woman ran up, bending and scooping up the little boy with the dark brown hair and trembling lip and now two tears on his cheeks. She settled him against her, nearly taking Caleb’s head off with a giant diaper bag. I’m so sorry, she exclaimed as she started to straighten. I stopped to tie my shoe, and he ran off and—

She stood, raking her hair out of her face with one hand, revealing gorgeous lips, high cheekbones, and green irises that nearly stunned him senseless…just like they had the first time he’d seen them.

Kim? he asked, mouth dropping open.

Her eyes went wide, body going statue still. I—Caleb—I— His ex—who he’d admittedly been a total jerk to and ended things by just ghosting her—staggered back a step. Sorry again, she said, gaze dropping to her feet. A glance up, her thumb hitching over her shoulder. I’ll, um, see you around some time. Then she spun on her heel, started to walk away.

Hey. Wait, he began, hurrying after her and snagging her arm. "I’m glad I ran into you. Or that Cole ran into me—or— He shook his head to clear it. This wasn’t the point. Look, I just wanted to say—"

Fury.

Fire.

Disgust.

That hit him hard in the solar plexus, but he pushed on. I ended things badly between us, and I’ve always wanted to apologize about it. I was in a bad place and—

It’s fine.

A terse, two-word reply.

Paired with another step back.

I’m sorry, sunshine. He moved toward her again, halting when she clutched her son to her and skittered back yet another step. I really— A beat when her gaze wouldn’t meet his. Honey, please look at me.

I need to go. A whisper, and she turned again toward the parking lot. Thanks for the apology. Nice to have an explanation.

He deserved the terse words this time.

Deserved that she didn’t even bother to look at him when speaking them.

He knew that.

But…it wasn’t anger or frustration prickling down his spine. Yeah, there was disappointment because he’d thought about this girl so much over the years. With fondness, with a longing to have done things differently, but mostly with regret.

It wasn’t the disappointment coiling in his belly that had him looking closer.

It was the fear in her steps, in the pace she was undertaking, in the way she deliberately avoided meeting his eyes.

But her son wasn’t looking away from him.

Her son was staring right at him.

And…his stomach began to churn.

Hazel eyes. Dark hair. A relationship that ended four years before.

And…she’d tried to reach out to him after that ending.

Repeatedly.

The churning in his gut whipped up, turned into a violent twisting.

How old is he? he asked, and his voice so hoarse it was barely audible.

But she heard anyway.

He knew it in the way that her stride faltered. But she didn’t answer him, just kept walking and moved forward.

Kim.

I need to go.

How old is he?

No response, and the twisting became a vortex as they approached a small sedan, its paint peeling off the roof, scratches all along the passenger’s side. She stuck the key in the lock, turned it, and reached to yank at the handle.

A practiced motion.

As though she’d done it a hundred times, a thousand.

And still, she didn’t answer his question.

But Cole did.

Three, he said proudly, holding up his fingers.

He had to lock his knees so he didn’t end up eating pavement.

Because pieces were clicking into place.

Kim, he said, catching her arm as she bent to lower Cole into the car seat.

Because he knew…he knew.

Her head dropped, chin hitting her chest.

Then she said, He’s yours.

And the bottom fell out of his world.

Two

Kim

He went pale.

So pale that she was almost certain he was going to go down.

But then he straightened his shoulders and said, You’re not fucking with me.

If only she was.

Fuck!

She jerked, her head swiveling toward Cole, who she’d just plunked into his car seat, and she stifled a groan.

A parrot.

Her son was a parrot.

And his father…he’d just taught him his first curse word.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!"

Caleb’s eyes—so much like Cole’s—went wide. Comically so. Well, comically if there had been a single thing funny about this scenario.

But, newsflash, there wasn’t.

Shit, I’m sorry I didn’t—

Shit! Cole repeated. Shit!

Kim couldn’t stifle her groan this time, letting her head drop back, eyes on the sky, on the pretty blue dotted with cotton candy puffs of white. So bright and warm and with a hint of salt on the air.

The ocean close.

She couldn’t afford to live in Stoneybrooke, or at least, not near downtown or near the beach. Hers and Cole’s room was located in a house on the border of town, just on the correct side of that line. Close enough that she could walk him to the excellent pilot program funded by the school district he’d just started to save on gas. Close enough that she could walk to work for the same reason.

Close enough for—

Fingers on her jaw.

Roughened tips that glided along the line of her face that wasn’t as defined as it used to be, the extra baby weight not having come off as easily as it went on, even with all the walking she’d done since having Cole.

Her boobs were bigger, along with her waist and ass and thighs and stomach.

Everything jiggled.

And sagged.

And…stretch marks.

Shit. Shit. Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Shit, Cole sing-songed, drawing her out of her thoughts, making her realize what was happening, who was touching her.

Caleb had cut her off.

One day, everything had seemed as great as it always was when she was with Caleb. So easy and effortless and…great.

And then…nothing.

He had promised to swing by then hadn’t shown.

When she had worried and called and texted, he hadn’t replied.

His house dark, no answer at the door.

That was when she’d gotten really worried. She’d spent that night driving around, looking for his car, all while making calls to each of the area’s hospitals, and the police station, and the county sheriff’s office. All of which had been for naught, because when she had circled back by his house in the early hours of dawn a For Sale sign had been planted squarely in the front lawn.

She’d gotten out.

Walked up to the front door.

But she hadn’t knocked again because she’d gotten a glimpse inside the large windows.

Empty.

Not a lick of furniture.

Not a knickknack.

Not a fucking word from the man she’d been falling for.

And then a few weeks later, when her period had been late, when she’d tried to reach out again…

Nothing.

Don’t touch me, she hissed, jerking back, and spinning to buckle Cole in, carefully rearranging her face so that her son, so the source of everything bright and beautiful in her life, didn’t think she was upset with him. You know what, baby? Let’s sing the Red song.

Joy on his little face.

He loved that fucking song.

Even though it had become the bane of her existence, mostly because she and Cole had sung it enough times that she often dreamed the lyrics.

R-E-D, red, R-E-D, red, she began, buckling him in.

I can spell red, he went on, though it sounded like I can spwell wed.

I can spell red, she repeated.

Fire trucks are red, too. Fire twucks are wed, too.

R-E-D, red.

R-E-D, red. Wahr-E-D, wed.

Cole pressed his hand lightly to her cheek, to the rounded plane that hadn’t changed shape since he’d been in her life. Unlike the man standing at her back, his stare burning a hole between her shoulder blades.

She didn’t rush.

This was her baby, her sunshine, her smiles, and sweet touches.

I love you, Mommy. I-wuhv-you, Mommy.

Turning her head, she kissed his palm. I love you, too, baby. Carefully, she tucked his hand back into his lap. Now watch out, honey, I’m going to close the door now.

A press of his hand to his mouth, a blown kiss. Muah.

Muah, baby.

Then she stepped back, carefully shut the door, making sure little fingers and toes where safely inside the vehicle.

Kim.

She shivered.

Then she remembered the last four years. How alone she’d been. How hard everything had been. How she’d clawed and struggled and been a fucking superhero for her son.

And she found her spine.

And she coated it in steel.

And then an extra layer of the molten metal, just for good measure.

Her chin came up. You still have the same phone number?

He blinked. What?

Is your cell phone number still the same as it was four years ago?

Another blink. Yeah.

Am I blocked?

He blinked a third time, but his befuddlement seemed to be clearing, something dark and scary and…tempting in the edges of those hazel eyes.

Escape.

She needed to escape.

If I’m blocked, she said, unblock me.

Sunshine, he began.

Oh no, she couldn’t have him saying that, calling her that in his velvet-rough voice. Steel. She was unbendable, unbreakable, tempered steel. Unblock me, and I’ll be in touch.

Sunshine, he said again. We need—

I’ll have my attorney reach out to you. Send you the papers.

No more befuddlement.

Just keen intellect and a brewing anger. Papers for what?

Steel. Steel.

Papers for you to relinquish all parental rights.

Three

Caleb

P apers for you to relinquish all parental rights.

For a second, the words didn’t penetrate.

And then they did.

Fury rippled through him, zipping down each of his muscles, locking them tight. He would have sworn that his teeth cracked, his jaw clenched so tightly, so rapidly. But before he processed the slice of pain radiating through his face, Kim was moving.

And she was fucking fast.

Zipping around the back of her car, yanking open the driver’s side door, starting to get in. He moved without thinking, and knowing that he wouldn’t make it to her side fast enough, that he couldn’t stop her from getting into the seat, he grabbed the handle on the passenger’s side and crammed himself into the positively tiny space.

Probably because of the car seat.

He’d seen enough of those over the last months to be familiar with how they took up an obscene amount of interior space in even the biggest of vehicles.

But Kim’s car wasn’t big.

It was tiny.

And him cramming his six-foot-two body into the space that even a pug would struggle to get comfortable in gave him clown car vibes.

He managed anyway, clicking the seat belt, and then turning toward Kim.

Who was gaping at him.

Fuck, she was pretty.

Then a shield slammed tight over her face, lips pressing flat, green eyes flashing. Get. Out. Of. My. Car.

No.

More gaping. "What do you mean no?"

He turned to fully face her, knee slamming into the glovebox, and slanted his eyes toward the elephant taking up most of the space behind his seat. "I mean no."

If smoke could be coming out of her ears, he knew he’d be seeing it.

As it was, he had to settle for sparks in her emerald eyes.

But the smoke, the sparks, the steel and spine and clenched jaw were all new. She’d been nothing but sweet and soft, a slender reed pushed over in the wind, bending to whatever he had wanted when they’d been together.

We need to talk about this.

A muscle flexing in that jaw. "For the record, I needed to talk about this four years ago. Now, I just need you to get the fu— Her gaze toward Cole, and he watched her face soften as she self-edited. Fiddlesticks out of our lives. Go back to doing your thing, and we’ll go back to doing ours."

Was she fucking serious?

He stared at her, saw that her expression hadn’t relaxed, that she wasn’t smiling at him, wasn’t ready to spring a Ha! Just kidding! Of course I’ll let you be part of your kid’s life on him. Unfortunately, she didn’t give him that.

Just more muscle flexing.

More glacially cold eyes.

That’s not going to happen, he felt obligated to point out.

Flames joined the proverbial smoke pouring out of her ears.

Why? she gritted.

"Why?" he asked.

Yes. Her nostrils flared on an inhale. "Why? You are fu—flipping unbelievable. One day, I went from making dinner for you. I spent hours making your favorite meal. One that you begged me to make, for the record, she hissed. Roasting the chicken, homemade dumplings, peeling apples, and rolling out the pie crust. And then you didn’t show. And then—"

Mama! Song!

Just a minute, baby, she said.

"Song! Song!"

Cole, honey. I’m talking to my friend. I’ll turn on the song in a minute.

Silence.

Then, Song!

Kim’s throat worked, and he expected a beleaguered sigh, an irritated chastisement. Instead, she said, You know the rule, baby. You ask nicely.

Another