“Yep. She makes jewelry. Or she used to...” His voice faded off.
“Why do you think she stopped?”
“’Cause of Dom.”
He still didn’t think Tyler was abused, not over the long haul, but he knew the jerk had done something to him. Tyler’s fears were real. “Your mom’s boyfriend, right?”
Maybe DJ could learn more in the shadows tonight. He treaded lightly. “What’d he do? Make her stop?”
The swing creaked. “No,” Tyler whispered.
Great. Open-ended questions, he reminded himself. “What did he do?”
“I dunno, but she didn’t like it. She cried. A lot.”
DJ didn’t pursue what might have happened between the adults. He’d leave that for later. “Did she have a lot of stuff?”
“Yeah. It was cool. She used to let me watch her. She had real gold and silver. And a hot thing that melted metal and made it all stick together.”
“Sounds pretty complicated.”
The swing creaked again, and DJ watched Tyler nod.
“She used to let me play with some of the jewels,” Tyler said softly. “Not the ’spensive ones, though.”
“Expensive? Like what?”
“Diamonds. She had other real pretty ones she liked best, even more than diamonds. She called ’em moonstones.” Tyler paused. “I like them best, too.”
“Wow.” DJ was shocked and impressed. “Diamonds. And moonstones. Must be pretty good money in that kind of work,” he mused aloud.
Tyler was silent. “I don’t know.” His voice sounded distant, confused.
Maybe the boy’s mind was going the same place as DJ’s—if she had that kind of money, why hadn’t she kept Tyler? Or, hell, if she needed the money, why not sell a diamond?
DJ frowned into the darkness. So many things about Tammie didn’t add up. Wyatt had told him about the old, dilapidated house where he’d picked up Tyler—maybe that topic would get the boy talking.
“That house in Austin where Uncle Wyatt picked you up. That where you guys lived?” He thought he knew the answer but wanted to hear what Tyler had to say.
Silence came out of the darkness. No swing creaks. No soft words. Just pure nighttime.
DJ leaned toward his son, waiting.
“No.” Tyler paused. “We just borrowed it for a little while.”
“Where’d you really live?” DJ watched as Tyler looked around, glancing into the night with wide, nervous eyes.
“Different places.”
DJ tried to remain patient. He knew that his son had gone to several different schools, and he was only eight. “That’s not much help, buddy.”
Tyler turned wide eyes to DJ. Tyler jumped off the porch swing, sending it swaying wildly, nearly hitting the edge of the house. “Help with what? Not like you’re gonna find Mama or help her.”
DJ stuck his arm out to stop the boy and only managed to connect an elbow with the flying wood. He cursed.
“Tyler, stop.” The boy was already up the stairs before DJ could struggle to his feet. He stopped at the screen door and let him go. He wasn’t going to solve anything tonight. He shoved his fingers through his hair. Growing out already, it was driving him crazy. Slowly, he paced back and forth over the worn boards. Help her with what?
At the edge of the porch, he stopped and stared out at the land beyond the yard. The horizon to the east was just starting to glow a faint red. He sighed. He hadn’t realized how late it had gotten...or rather, how early. He didn’t have anywhere to go today. His therapy had been cut down to twice a week. But Tyler had school in a few short hours.
Despite the fact that Tammie had dumped Tyler on Wyatt’s doorstep without a glance backward, the boy was eternally loyal to his mother.
DJ froze, staring at the red glow on the horizon. Loyalty wasn’t something a person could make you have. It was earned. It was given. Never taken.
He turned to look back at the screen door, seeing the shadow of the stairs beyond. Once inside, he took the steps slowly, carefully. He didn’t think he’d ever take the ability to climb stairs for granted again. It ticked him off, though, that it was such a struggle, especially when he was in a hurry, like now.
Finally, at the top, he paused and caught his breath. Then turned toward Tyler’s room, which was across the hall from his own. The door was closed. DJ slowly pushed the old wood panel door open, the original hinges squeaking softly in the near-dawn air.
Tyler was huddled on the bed, curled in a ball, his shoulders silently shaking. DJ didn’t hesitate. He walked across the room, his footsteps incredibly loud in the sleeping house. “Hey, buddy.” He settled in the chair beside the bed and felt the stab of regret when Tyler scooted away from him, closer to the wall.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you or make you think I don’t care about your mom. I liked her once, remember?” No answer.
DJ racked his brain for the right thing to say. “I need to ask you something,” DJ finally said. Still no answer. “You see, I realized something—you wouldn’t be so worried about her if you really thought she’d abandoned you, would you?”
This time Tyler turned his head and looked over his thin shoulder at DJ. His expression was far from trusting, but he was interested. DJ ventured further.
“So, if she didn’t leave you...do you think she’s in trouble?” DJ moved, and though it hurt like hell, he knelt on the floor beside the bed.
The silence stretched out and he tried to guess what Tyler was thinking. Finally, DJ had to speak up. Damn, he hated feeling so inadequate.
“You know—” DJ leaned back to see Tyler more clearly and tried to shift the mood to relaxed and comfortable “—when I first met your mom, she was fun and pretty and smart.”
“In Florida, right?”
“Yep. On the beach.” DJ let his mind fill with the memories of that night. God, it felt like a million years and miles ago. “We had a good time together.” Obviously, as Tyler was the result, he added silently. “I get the feeling she’s not having fun anymore.”
Tyler shook his head slowly.
“If she’s scared enough to send you away, we need to find out why. Help her.”
“No.” Tyler vehemently shook his head, surprising DJ when he sat up and launched himself at DJ, wrapping his arms around DJ’s neck to hold on tight.
Disentangling the boy’s arms, DJ peered down at Tyler’s face, hardening his heart to the damp on the boy’s cheeks. “I can protect her from whatever or whomever she needs protection from. You know I’m a marine. We’re tough. You saw what Uncle Wyatt and I can do to protect the people we love.”
DJ still had nightmares of that night Wyatt’s girlfriend, Emily, and Tyler had been attacked. Her nutcase stepbrother had tried to use Tyler to get to Emily. She’d handled it all really well—the best she could—but if they hadn’t shown up, who knew what would have happened. Tyler had thought of him as a hero ever since, and DJ had to admit, he liked it.
“Yeah,” Tyler murmured. “But—”
“But what?” DJ carefully prompted.
“She made me promise.”
“Promise what?”
“Not to tell.” Tyler shook his head again. “Not to tell anyone. Ever.”