I nod softly, unable to squash the feeling that there is more going on than he’s letting on. Grams, Lucas, and everything else make up this puzzle, continually moving and shifting, making it impossible for me to get a clear picture of what’s happening. But even muddled and out of focus, it’s crystal clear that something is very wrong.

Lucas presses his lips to my forehead on his way out the door, gripping his fresh clothes in his fist. I stay silent and unmoving on the edge of the bed until I hear the shower turn on down the hall.

I survey Lucas’s room, looking for any clue into his odd behavior. Messy, unmade bed? That’s normal territory for him. I open his closet door and peek inside, telling myself it’s not an invasion of privacy if I just look in from the doorway. On the top shelf, I find snack pack heaven—cookies, chips, Chex Mix, and much more.

Since when does Lucas keep food hidden in his closet?

There could be several explanations, I tell myself. Maybe he puts them in his book sack when he can’t make it to the cafeteria at school. Maybe he gets so caught up in his projects, he doesn’t want to break his concentration by going downstairs to the kitchen. Maybe…

I walk toward the window, running a hand over his desk, fingering the folder sitting on top of the towering stack of papers. I push away the guilt when I flick open the top of the manila folder to reveal his papers. This is not who I am—I’m not the snooping girlfriend, but desperate times and all that.

I peer at the top sheet, anxious to see what’s stealing every moment of Lucas’s attention. I imagine it’s more equations, lines of proofs, things I cannot even begin to comprehend.

When my eyes meet the paper, renewed tears fill my eyes. I grip the desk with one hand for balance and clutch my shirt with the other, trying to keep the gnawing sense of doom at bay.

As I run my eyes over the paper, I realize I was right about only one thing. I can’t grasp a single bit of understanding from the scribbling in front of me.

But neither can anyone else.

“My Immortal” by Evanescence

The Present

“SNEAK ATTACK!”

I hear an audible “hmph,” I’m guessing from Celia. I wince as I knock on the front door. She may just kill me, and I can’t really blame her.

Adam called me an hour ago and demanded my services pronto. He said I created this mess, so it’s my job to clean it up. How was I to know Gage would unleash all my teachings on Celia? I meant for the little guy to torment Adam.

I’m banking on our newfound friendship earning me a few mercy points with her. Over the last few months, Adam, Celia, and I have shared more dinners, movie nights, and cookouts than I can count. Add in the wonder twins and Celia’s best friend from home, Audrey, and I’ve fallen into a fucking fabulous extended family of sorts.

Never mind the incestuous thoughts I secretly hold about a certain family member. That’s a discussion for another time.

Adam and I spend a lot of time at New Horizons getting the domestic abuse program up and running. As we rack up hours at the clinic, Celia sightings are more frequent and definitely appreciated. An easy friendship naturally evolved between the three of us. All that being said, I doubt Celia’s feeling very friendly or familial about me today. I’ll be lucky to leave with my nuts intact.

The door flies open, slamming into the wall behind it, and a furious Celia fists her hand in my shirt and jerks me inside. On sheer instinct, my hand drops down and covers my balls. Her short blonde hair is matted to her face in wet clumps. Even her eyelashes are stuck together. Her light pink shirt clings to her skin, and I make an honest effort to train my eyes to her face.

Maybe just a peek. Damn, her nipples are hard…

She turns and points to the heathen in question with fire in her eyes. “Fix him. You broke him, so fix him!”

Okay, so maybe I taught Gage a few … pranks. I only shared a minuscule amount of tricks from my very large arsenal. I merely wanted his inner Dennis the Menace to shine. All little boys should learn the fine art of torment. It’s practically a rite of passage.

I only get a glimpse of the furry tail Gage insists on wearing tucked into the back of his jeans as he races away to hide. Unfortunately for me, I’ve also taught him to play hide and seek like a CIA agent. If he doesn’t want to be found, forget about it. I’m kind of proud of my little protégé, but I wipe the smirk off my face before Celia turns my way.

“Oh, no you don’t, little man. It’s time to pay the piper,” I call out as I round the corner into the hallway.

A tiny giggle behind me makes me turn my attention to Lily, who’s perched on barstool at the counter. She’s sipping out of a teacup and swatting at the pink feathers tickling her nose from the boa wrapped around her neck.

“I’m not telling you, Uncle Cain. If I do, he might prank me,” Lily says with a shrug of her shoulders and more giggles.

“He put a rubber band around my sink sprayer so it shot me in the face when I turned the faucet on. He hid a whoopee cushion under my seat. He’s been screaming ‘Aunt Cece farted’ at the top of his lungs all morning. And that’s not even the worst of it. He sprinkled those little pop firecrackers all over the bathroom floor. You can imagine what happened when I stepped inside. I nearly peed my pants!” Celia glares at me accusingly as she counts off Gage’s offenses on her fingers.

“At least you were in the right place for peeing,” I mumble, but shut my mouth quickly when Celia slaps my arm.

Little man was busy this morning.

“Okay, he definitely owes you an apology. But, come on, it’s a little bit funny, right?” I shoot her a winning lopsided smile, hoping to melt a little of the ice in the air. It’s wiped clean off my face when I see her reaction. “Never mind, just forget I said anything.”

“Seriously, Cain, you’ve turned that sweet boy into a holy terror. I can’t believe Adam let you teach him those things!” She stamps her foot, and damn if it doesn’t make her even cuter.

I chuckle as I peer into each room, looking for the little delinquent. “Believe me, when it comes to watching over the munchkins, Adam’s set the bar really low for me. What do you expect after the ‘cratchel’ incident? But, I mean, come on, I’m the fun uncle. Everyone loves Uncle Cain.”

“Cratchel incident?”

“Never mind about that. It’s not important.”

She’s on my heels as I search the house for Gage. “Well, believe me, not everyone loves Uncle Cain. Some people would love to teach him a big, fat lesson!” she replies, poking me in the back with each word for emphasis.

I turn on a dime, and stoop down to meet her nose to nose. Her eyes widen, and she freezes in place. “Oh, I don’t think you want to tangle with me, Tink. The stuff Gage pulled today? Child’s play … just the tip of the iceberg. I will unleash a prank war you’ll never recover from. You sure you wanna dance with me?”

Her pretty blue eyes go wide, but before she can answer, I hear a sound coming from the bathroom. I peek around the corner and spot Gage peeking his head out from the cabinet under the sink.

“There are more tricks? Why didn’t you tell me, Uncle Cain? I wanna know them all,” Gage says as he scowls at me, angry that I’ve been holding out on him.

I meet Celia’s eyes and tip my head in Gage’s direction. She smiles back, and now the victim becomes the conspirator.

“Get him!” I yell, and Celia and I descend on Gage, her grabbing his arms and me wrangling the feet. “Tickle war!”