last time she’d been “told” to do something by a mother, even her own mother. Although Lydia and her mom were close and spoke weekly, since it had just been the two of them for most of Lydia’s life, and Lydia’s mom worked so much, Lydia and her mother’s relationship became one more of friendship than mother-daughter.
She couldn’t remember the last time her mother had scolded her or had to pull the Mom Card, as she called it. Lydia had always toed the line and done what was expected of her. She helped out at home, got good grades, showed respect to adults and her peers, had an after-school job to save up for school. She was a good kid.
To say that her body was currently the temperature of an icicle and her heart rate was beating at hamster speed would be a big ol’ understatement.
She entered the kitchen ahead of Joy and stopped by the small breakfast nook. There was a bigger dining room table between the living room and kitchen where she figured they would all eat dinner tonight.
She turned around and watched Joy close the pocket door, then lock it.
From icicle to magma, her temperature spiked, and she resisted the urge to pull at her shirt to see if she had boob sweat forming under her bra.
“What was that?” Joy asked, her voice soft and gentle, like how one would normally speak to a child. She pointed to the bench seat in the nook. “Sit.”
Lydia sat.
Joy sat across from her. “Now spill.”
Lydia spilled.
All of it.
Dierks, Odette, being fired, the weird things going on in her house, the sex toy in the box with her underwear. She spared no detail, and by the end, she half expected Joy to stand up and tell her not to bring her drama into the Hart family based on the older woman’s expression.
But Joy didn’t say or do either of those things.
She did stand up, however, and came around to Lydia’s side of the table, sat next to her and pulled Lydia in for another hug. “That’s a lot. I’m sorry you’re having to deal with all of that. It’s not fair.”
Joy’s arms around her instigated a flow of tears she hadn’t been prepared for. Sadness and pain, fatigue and hopelessness all bubbled to the forefront, spilling out as big fat tears and sobs that wracked her entire body. She clung to the older woman and sobbed, taking comfort in Joy’s strong presence, her kind and gentle touch.
Joy did nothing but hold her, rub her back and make small, reassuring noises that actually helped ease the ache inside of Lydia.
When the sobs ebbed and she felt like she was empty of tears, she pulled away from Joy and wiped the back of her wrist beneath her nose. Joy reached for a Kleenex off the window ledge and handed it to her.
Blotting her eyes, Lydia sniffled a few times before saying thank you.
“No thanks necessary, honey. You obviously needed a good cry. And from what you told me, it sounds like you’ve needed one for a while. That’s a lot to take on all by yourself. Where are your parents?”
Her exhale rattled from her chest. “My dad passed away when I was eight. He was a high school chemistry teacher, and he had a brain aneurysm while teaching one day and just dropped dead to the floor. I was raised by my mum.”
Joy’s hand covered her mouth, and her head shook. “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. My boys lost their father too. Not a day goes by I don’t miss my Zane.”
Not a day went by where Lydia’s mother didn’t miss Lydia’s father either. She knew that. Even though her mother had tried dating—and picked some real asshole, creeper duds from time to time—she’d never had a serious boyfriend. Not that Lydia was aware of, anyway.
“My mum says I take after my dad a lot in my zest for knowledge and wanting to help people and work with children. He was always about shaping and encouraging the minds of tomorrow, building a better future, and I believe in that, too.”
“And where does your mum live, sweetheart?”
“In Hope. She’s a receptionist for an insurance adjuster. She’s been doing it for over twenty years. She loves it. Has full benefits, a full pension, eight weeks of vacation a year. She has another five or six years to go before she says she’ll retire, then she wants to move closer to me. Figures she’ll have grandbabies to help babysit by then.” She made a noise of disbelief in her throat. “But that won’t be happening if I can’t get a job to support those hypothetical babies. And it definitely won’t be happening if someone is stalking me. And it definitely definitely won’t be happening if I’m losing my damn mind.”
“Which you’re not, so just end that vein right here and now,” Joy replied. “You say Rex is taking care of you. Well, I couldn’t imagine a better man for the job. He and the rest of his brothers will get to the bottom of this. They’ll find out who is tormenting you, and they will put a stop to it. In the meantime, I think you would be a wonderful person to help look after Zoe, Zane, Connor and Thea. And the Shaw twins—Grace and Claire—are lovely little darlings too.”
“You don’t think my behavior just now scared the crap out of everyone? That Krista and Stacey aren’t thinking I’m some lunatic?”
Joy’s brows furrowed. “I think you’re building up your little outburst more than the rest of us. You exclaimed Krista was a cop. It’s not like you outed her while she was undercover or something. Your enthusiasm was a little unexpected, but I think a lot of it is all in your head. You’re worried you’re going to appear crazy to everyone—which is exactly what whoever is tormenting you is trying to do. Don’t let them win. I don’t think you’re crazy, and I’m a therapist, so I can legally and legitimately label you as crazy if I wanted to.” Her smile was lopsided, but the twinkle in her eye had Lydia grinning.
“Thank you, Joy. I needed this. But now I have to go back in there and face all those people who saw me act like an idiot and then get scolded like a child.”
Joy rolled her eyes. “And you don’t think I’ve done the exact same thing to each and every one of them at some point? You’re all still children who need a little dose of reality once in a while. Just last week, I had to throw my slipper at Rex and Heath because they started wrestling on the couch and nearly knocked their full beer mugs onto the floor. Bunch of big, burly buffoons with more muscles than brains sometimes, I swear it.” She rubbed Lydia’s arm. “Don’t sweat it, honey. Just go in there, apologize and move on. But I won’t let you leave. You’ve been invited for dinner, and barring a case of explosive diarrhea—which you will never get from any of my food—or tea with the Queen, you’re not leaving.”
Snorting a laugh, Lydia took Joy’s hand and squeezed it. “Thank you.”
Joy squeezed her hand in return and smiled before scooting off the bench and pulling Lydia with her. “Now I see you’ve brought Brussels sprouts. Delicious. Do they just need to be reheated or …?”
“Just fifteen minutes at three-fifty should do the trick,” Lydia said, her breath still stuttering slightly on big inhales. But her shoulders seemed lighter and less bogged down, as did her heart. It felt good to let it all out, tell someone else her problems and let the tears purge her soul.
Joy was right. Sometimes you really did just need a good cry to feel better about things, and although nothing in her life was solved after crying, she did feel better about tackling it all.
“Ready to go back out there?” Joy asked, her fingers poised to unlock the door. “Or do you need a few more minutes?”
She blotted her eyes with the crumpled Kleenex one more time, drew in a big breath and nodded. “Let’s do this.”
“That’s a girl,” Joy said with a nod. She opened the door and waited for Lydia to step through first.
“I’m sorry I reacted that way, guys,” she said, standing in front of a room of four bigger-than-life men, two beautiful women and four wild-eyed, confused children. “A lot going on right now.”
Krista was the first to stand up. She went to Lydia and wrapped her arms around her. “Rex has filled us in. No need to apologize, and I honestly didn’t think anything of your announcement about me being a cop. It’s not exactly something I keep a secret.” Her mouth fell next to Lydia’s ear. “Let me know what I can do to help. This is some shady shit going down.”
Lydia pulled away, her brows knitted. “But Rex said the cops wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.”
Krista rolled her eyes. “These four like to go rogue. It takes a lot of effort on my part to keep them following the law and even then … but if you got a sex toy in the mail, that’s some seriously freaky shit. You need to report it.”
Lydia nodded. As much as she trusted Rex and his brothers, the idea of getting the police involved made her feel a lot better.
Rex’s doppelganger cleared his throat. “Print analysis of everything came back.”
Krista and Lydia both drew in a breath and stared at Chase, waiting.
Chase’s expression grew uncomfortable, and it seemed like he was deliberately avoiding making eye contact with Lydia.
Uh-oh.
Quintuple fuck?
“Only prints that came up were yours and Lydia’s, bro. I ran them all three times. And nothing came back on the toy or the box. Not one print besides Rex’s. Not even the mail carrier’s. Which is bizarre, but then a lot of them wear gloves.”
A crater-sized pit opened up inside her stomach.
No prints.
None.
Skip the sextuple and septuple fucks. This went straight to a category octuple fuck, for sure.
“Not to worry,” Rex said, his confidence in all of this visibly crumbling. “We’ll figure it out. You can stay with me for as long as you need.”
As lovely as that sentiment was, she had a place of her own—her home—and she wanted to stay there. Whoever was tormenting her couldn’t win. He or she couldn’t drive Lydia from her home. She wouldn’t let them.
“Actually, bro,” Brock said, his hesitation making the whole room seem to hold its collective breath. “Need you in Vancouver for a week or more starting Monday. Got a job.”
“Can’t Heath or Chase do it?” Rex asked, almost seeming angry. “Or you?”
Brock cleared his throat, and his face, hell, his whole demeanor, went stormy. “Not up to you. It’s an order. Heath’s headed down to Seattle for a job, and Chase isn’t ready for field work yet. And I’m coming with you. It’s a two-man job in Van.”
His gaze swiveled to Lydia.
“I’ll keep an eye on her,” Krista said. “Can set up routine wellness checks and have cops cruising by the apartment building.”
“Plus, I’ll be around if things get dicey,” Chase spoke up.
Stacey’s face paled, as did Joy’s.
What happened to Chase that he wasn’t able to do field work? Was it something recent?
Stacey turned to Chase, gripped the front of his shirt and murmured something to him. He murmured something back, cupped her face with his hand and kissed her gently on the mouth before moving his head and kissing a sleeping Thea on the top of her head.
“Can Lydia maybe stay with you while I’m gone, Mum?” Rex asked, glancing at his mother. “It’ll only be for a few days.”
“At least a week,” Brock corrected.
“And no,” Lydia interjected. “I have a home, and I’m a big girl. I can’t let whoever is doing this to me win. I need to be able to stay in my own apartment.” She pinned her gaze on Rex. “I’m staying there tonight. Whether you’re with me or not.”
Brows shot up around the room.
“Another ball-breaker,” Heath said, only half under his breath. “Guess it’s up to me to find the mousy sister to bring into the family.”
“Ha!” Joy laughed. “No, son, you need someone to put you in your place. But at this point, I’ll take a mouse over a ghost or one of those soccer moms I hear mutterings about. Settle down already.”
Heath’s blue eyes went wide. “Who told you about the soccer moms?”
“I know everything. I keep telling you buffoons that.” Joy’s eyes rolled, and she glanced at Krista, Stacey and finally Lydia, appealing to them for understanding. “Right? Mothers know everything.”
Heath managed to look a little chastised and pulled at the collar of his painted-on white T-shirt. “Awkward,” he said, making an exaggerated frown.
“I’ll be okay,” Lydia said, ignoring the rest of the people in the room and focusing on Rex. “Leave Diesel with me for protection.”
That seemed to mollify him a bit.
At the mention of his name, Diesel pried his muscular frame off the floor from where he’d been snoring on Rex’s feet and came over to stand beside Lydia. “See, he’s all ready to play guard dog. Aren’t you, buddy?”
Diesel’s tongue fell to the side of his mouth, and he panted, gazing up at her with big, soulful eyes and a smile.
Joy clapped her hands once. “Then it’s settled. Now then, you boys can go and get to that list of yard work on the fridge.”
All four men groaned.
“Do you want dinner?” Joy asked, her hands on her hips, watching her grown sons moan and complain about chores while standing up, joints cracking and popping.
Stacey stood up as well and quietly carried Thea down the hall. Krista scooped up a tired-looking Zane, who seemed ready to pass out where he sat quietly looking through a picture book. She followed Stacey down the hall but veered right rather than left.
Connor and Zoe were quietly playing blocks in the corner.
Rex came up to Lydia and took her hands. “I’m sorry. I really don’t want to leave you.”
She shook her head, dismissing his apology. “It’s your job, plus, I can take care of myself. And if I can’t, I have Diesel.” She patted the dog’s head. “Right, buddy?” Now she was damn sure the dog nodded.
Rex’s face bunched into one of frustration and reluctance. “I know you can, but since that sicko sent you that sex toy, things are getting more serious.”
“And Krista said I should report it, which is what I figured we needed to do in the first place.”
Krista was walking back down the hallway toward them, childless, a childless Stacey right behind her.
Krista stopped in front of them. “I agree with Rex’s first statement, that the smaller things like an unlocked door and open underwear drawer wouldn’t bring out an officer to your house, possibly not even the peeled bananas or bitten cheese—as weird and disturbing as it all is—but the mail is a whole other story. I’m not working tomorrow, and I’m also part of the WestShore precinct, so you may need to go to the Victoria PD or possibly Saanich PD depending where you live, but I can go with you either way if you’d like.”
These people really were the salt of the earth and incredibly understanding. Even after her bizarre outburst and embarrassing attempt to flee, they still wanted to help her.
“Thank you,” Lydia said. “I appreciate that.”
“I took a look at your resume,” Stacey added. “Sent snapshots of it to James and Emma, and they’re really interested. I’m interested, too.”
“Me too.” Krista nodded.
“You mean, you’re not scared off?”
She thought for sure Krista and Stacey would have figured out some kind and diplomatic way to say they no longer needed childcare but hoped Lydia got the help she needed. Or some other gentle canned response.
Both women shook their heads.
“No. And definitely not now that we know the whole story. Rex filled us in when you were talking to Joy. We hope you don’t mind.” Krista caught her husband’s eye, lifted her brows and tilted her face. Brock stepped toward her and planted a kiss on her cheek. “You boys do right by your mama,” she teased. “Clean those gutters and scrub that siding.”
More groans drifted up from the foyer, where all four of them were currently getting their jackets and shoes on.
Stacey offered her a smile and squeezed her shoulder affectionately before heading into the kitchen where Joy was.
Krista lingered for a moment. “Just relax, okay? We’ll get it all figured out. In the meantime, sit with the kids, have some tea and just chill.”
“We’re chilling,” Zoe said. “You want to come chill with us, Aunt Lydia?”
Krista snorted a laugh. “That’s a good girl inviting someone to come play with you, sweetheart. Very kind.”
Zoe beamed.
“Yeah, we just chilling and making a block tower,” Connor added. “You any good at towers?”
Krista smiled again, then retreated to the kitchen.
“Actually,” Lydia started, grabbing her tea from the coffee table, then joining the kids on the floor, sitting cross-legged. “I’ve been told I’m very good at making towers.”
Connor and Zoe both grinned, their eyes going wide.
Lydia let out a much-needed sigh and finally sipped her tea. It was lukewarm now, but she didn’t care. She was in her happy place. With kids. With the future.
And judging by the two little humans in front of her, the future looked mighty bright.
The jury was still out on her own future though. It had dark, thick clouds looming over it no matter which direction she turned.