FAZER LOGIN~ Mara ~ The crying doesn’t stop. It starts low. Just noise. Something I can ignore for a minute while I stand in the kitchen trying to remember what I walked in here for. Then it builds. I grip the edge of the counter and close my eyes for a second. I know what that cry means. Either he’s Hungry, tired or uncomfortable maybe something else. I just… don’t react fast enough. By the time I turn around, Cole is already there. Of course he is. He lifts the baby, checks him, and adjusts him like he’s done it a hundred times. The crying reduces. Then fades. Just like that. I stay where I am. Watching it happen again. Watching him fix it. “You good,” he asks without looking at me. “Yeah,” I reply The word comes out automatically. He nods once and keeps going, like he believes me. Or he doesn’t want to push the issue. I don’t know which one is worse. I move past them and walk into the living room. Lily is sitting on the floor again. Same spo
~ Cole ~ I don’t ask her what’s wrong anymore. Not because I don’t care. Because I already know the answer won’t come out clean. It never does when it’s something like this. So I adjust. That’s what I can control. I’m in the kitchen early, before anyone else is up. Coffee brewing. Bottle warming. Phone on the counter with a list of things I wrote down last night after everyone went to bed. Feeding times. Lily’s school schedule. Groceries. Shifts at the shops. Things that keep the day from slipping. I move through it by just doing what needs to be done one step at a time. The baby starts making noise from the living room monitor. I'll start my day with him. I grab the bottle and head in. He’s already moving, small hands pushing against the blanket, face scrunched up like he’s about to cry. “I got you,” I mutter, picking him up. He settles faster than he did a few days ago. Or maybe I’m just getting better at this. I sit down and feed him, wat
~ Mara ~ This house is too big. I don’t mean that in a good way. I’m standing in the hallway, staring at nothing in particular, and it hits me again. Too much space. Too many rooms. Too many places to walk into, and it feels like something is missing. It doesn’t feel like a home right now. It feels like a place I’m trying to fit into. The baby starts fussing from the living room. I don’t move. That’s the part that scares me. With Lily, I used to react without thinking. Every sound pulled me in. Every cry meant something I had to fix. Now I hear it and my body stays still for a second too long. Cole walks past me, already heading toward the sound. “I’ve got him,” he says. I nod even though he’s not looking at me. Of course, he’s got him. He always does now. I follow slower, stopping by the doorway instead of going all the way in. Cole picks up the baby, adjusts him easily, like it’s second nature. His movements are steady with no hesitation or frustr
~ Cole ~ Numbers don’t argue. They don’t lie, don’t get emotional, don’t wake up one morning and decide to fall apart. They either work or they don’t. Simple. That’s why I stick to them today. Paper spread across the desk. Contracts. Locations. Names of men who’ve been with me long enough to deserve something better than running jobs that end with police lights or worse. I tap the pen against the table once, thinking it through again. Auto shops first. Three locations already lined up. One close to the highway. One near the industrial area. One further out where nobody asks questions as long as the work gets done right. Dealerships come after. Clean money, cars moving in and out with no one checking deeper than they need to. It works. It has to. Jax leans against the wall, arms crossed, watching me go through the same documents for the third time. “You’re overthinking it,” he says. “I don’t overthink,” I reply without looking up. “I calculate.” He snort
~ Lily ~ The house is big. I liked that at first. Now it feels like when you shout into a room and your voice comes back at you. I sit on the floor with my coloring book open, my legs folded under me. The crayon is in my hand, but I’m not really drawing anything. I keep coloring the same corner over and over until the paper starts to feel rough. The baby starts crying again. I pause. I listen. I don’t get up. Before, I would’ve. I would’ve gone to the door, or looked at Mom, or waited for her to move. Now I just sit there and count in my head. One. Two. Three. Cole walks past he must have gotten up earlier. I hear his footsteps before I see him heavy like always. He doesn’t look at me right away. He just goes straight to the baby’s room like that’s the only place that matters when the crying starts. As he open The door opens. The crying subsides. I press the crayon harder against the paper until it snaps. I stare at it for a second. Then I d
~ Cole ~ The next morning she started having a mental breakdown while shouting at me, then she went silent walked into the bathroom and slammed the door. I knew something was off before she said it. Mara doesn’t fall apart in like a destructive way, She goes quiet. That’s how she protects herself. Pulls everything in, locks it down, acts like she’s fine until she doesn’t have anything left to hold it together with. Last night proved it. She said she didn’t feel like herself. She said it like it scared her. And now I can’t unsee it. The house is quiet this morning. I’m already awake when the baby starts crying. I don’t even wait. I’m out of bed before it gets loud enough to wake Lily. Mara doesn’t move. I glance back at her once before I leave the room. She’s turned away again, in the same position she fell asleep in. She didn’t move much last night either. Barely reacted when the baby cried. Barely spoke after what she said. I don’t push it. I can’t. Not
Cole By the time I shut my door, it was already done. That was the truth I didn’t want to look at. The clubhouse noise faded behind me, but the damage didn’t stay there. It followed. Sat heavy in my chest. Quiet. Certain. I hadn’t needed Jax to say anything. I hadn’t needed Rhea’s look when
Mara The knock came hard enough to rattle the door. Heavy and Urgent. I was halfway through shoving Lily’s lunch into her bag when it happened, my pulse already spiking before my brain caught up. My body knew the sound. Knew the weight behind it. “Shit,” I muttered, wiping my hands on my
Mara She didn’t introduce herself. She didn’t have to. That witch, Vanessa stood in front of me like she belonged there, like the sidewalk outside Lily’s school was her territory and I was the one trespassing. Polished hair. Perfect posture. A smile that didn’t reach her eyes. I knew that
Mara The ride was quiet. Not awkward. Not heavy with forced conversation. Just quiet in the way that made my thoughts louder than the engine beneath us. Cole didn’t touch me more than necessary. His hand stayed steady at my waist, firm enough to keep me balanced, distant enough to r







