She slammed her hand on the wheel in frustration. Since the day she’d accepted her fate, she’d never succumbed to tears or self-pity, and she cursed Griffin Stuart for forcing her to do so now. After taking a deep breath of fresh air, she felt better. She turned the key in the ignition, but before she drove off, she had to stop and wipe the tears that blurred her vision.
* * *
“Thanks for coming.” Griff opened the front door for his friend.
“No problem.” Ryan walked in, kicked off his shoes, and headed straight for the kitchen, where he opened the refrigerator and grabbed a can of cola.
“Make yourself at home,” Griff said wryly.
Ryan grinned. “Already have.”
Since they were kids, neighbors in a run-down apartment building, Ryan had always reached the fridge first, usually swiping the last can of soda, leaving only tap water for Griff. For Jared, Ryan would make an exception, letting him share the victor’s spoils. Both Griff and Ryan had looked out for the pesky kid they both thought of as a little brother.
Ryan gave his friend the once over. “You look like hell,” he said between gulps.
Griff ran his fingers through his disheveled hair. “Feel like it, too.”
“Did you get her back to sleep?”
“Yeah.” He followed Ryan back to the living room. “But since it’s the third time, I don’t hold out much hope of her sleeping through the night.” Griff glanced towards the clock on the fireplace mantel.
A picture of his brother and sister-in-law, taken at Alix’s first birthday, drew his attention, mocking his efforts at parenting. I’m sorry I’m letting you down. He turned his gaze to the clock at the right of the picture.
Almost midnight. His body ached, whether from lack of sleep or bending over the crib to soothe his niece, he didn’t know. His heart ached, as well, but at least he could attribute that to a direct source. He glanced back at the photo.
“I shouldn’t be surprised,” Griff said, forcing his thoughts to his present problem. “This night isn’t much different than any other in the past month or so.”
No sooner would he fall asleep than he’d be awakened by Alix’s piercing cries. The doctor attributed the problem to her strange surroundings and the absence of her parents. Though he assured Griff that in time things would settle down, they hadn’t. They’d gotten worse.
“Isn’t your live-in help working out?” Ryan asked.
“Mrs. Baxter offered to help out at night, but then she’d be useless during the day. As it is, I’m sure she’s not catching much sleep just by virtue of proximity. Anyway, Alix needs someone familiar. Right now, that’s me.”
Ryan flopped onto the sofa, his second cola in hand. “And me. Get out. I can handle things from here. I’m used to being up all night on assignment, and I’ve had my caffeine fix.” He waved the can in the air. “You need the sleep. No way you’ll function in court if you’re sleeping through the proceedings.”
“Appreciate it, buddy. I owe you.”
“Yeah. Ain’t life grand?” Ryan grinned.
“It’s been better.”
“Haven’t you gotten one decent night’s sleep since the squirt moved in?”
“No.”
Ryan snorted in disbelief. “Pretty quick answer. Are you sure you wouldn’t like to reconsider?”
“You’re a pain in the butt, Jackson.”
“Maybe. But how about some honesty? I seem to remember your mentioning one particular night when you thought you had the problem beat.”
“If you know so much, then why ask the damned question?”
“Because friends make you face things you don’t want to own up to.” Ryan kicked off his shoes and propped his feet up on the sofa. “So?”
“So, yes. One night last week Alix slept. I didn’t.” Since the day Chelsie had run from his home in tears, he had lived with a steady and conflicting diet of guilt and desire. His fluctuating feelings regarding Chelsie Russell kept him up nights, so the one evening Alix chose to sleep, Griff tossed and turned.
The battle had been hell on him, physically as well as emotionally. A fair exchange, given how badly he’d treated Chelsie. Yet given a second chance, he’d do the same thing all over again. Self-preservation at its finest.
“Aha,” Ryan muttered.
“Don’t aha me. I’m going to bed.”
“If you ask me, both you and Alix need her.”
“We have each other, Ryan. We don’t need anyone else.” Especially a woman capable of turning his life upside down. He’d seen firsthand the lengths to which Chelsie would go to get something she wanted. No different than Deidre or his so-called mother. Regardless of Chelsie’s effect on him—and he couldn’t deny he felt something each time he even thought of Chelsie Russell—he didn’t want to add her to his already convoluted life.
“Strand yourself on a deserted island, and you’ll wind up alone.” Ryan flicked on the television set.
“Excuse me if I don’t stick around and listen to you spout philosophy. I’ve got some sleep to catch up on.” Griff turned and headed for the door.
“Pleasant dreams.”
Griff ignored Ryan’s jibe and low chuckle. His friend’s poor sense of humor was a small thing to overlook in favor of a good night’s sleep.
He entered his bedroom and stripped off his clothing, collapsing onto the cool sheets in exhaustion. He expected sleep to come immediately, but he lay awake with one thing on his mind. Chelsie Russell.
Until now, he had refused to contemplate the connection between Alix’s well-being and her aunt, the complex lady lawyer who tormented his dreams.
Chelsie’s parents were no longer interested in Alix. Since the hearing a month ago, they had stopped by only once. Because the judge’s ruling had reiterated the importance of family ties and deep down Griff agreed, he’d been willing to allow the Russells supervised family visits. Apparently, having discovered that the judge’s decision hadn’t affected their status with the country club set, their granddaughter no longer fit into their plans. No need to burden themselves with a child if their shallow friends accepted them anyway.
A part of him acknowledged the possibility that Chelsie’s parents were grief-stricken and upset over losing custody on top of losing a daughter. That didn’t justify ignoring the same child whose life they had tried to turn upside down. Regardless of the reason for their absence, Griff wasn’t surprised, merely relieved.