Chapter 30


    #Chapter 30 – Rollercoaster


    “Come on, boys,” Victor says, walking unannounced into my kitchen the next day. Note to self, I think,


    narrowing my eyes. Get a deadbolt for the back door. “We’re taking the day off!”


    Alvin and Ian throw their hands in the air, shouting with joy and excitement.


    “No,” I say, my voice low. “Today is a school day. We have to go to school.”


    The boys collectively moan, looking at me with pleading eyes. I re at Victor, shaking my head,


    warning him not to push it. He looks at me, smirking, willing to y with fire.


    “Nah, let’s skip it,” he says, and the boys cheer again. “Besides, you’ll be going to a new school soon –


    a better school. You can skip this one for just a little bit.”


    The boys are almost hysterical now with excitement, jumping from their chairs and running to their dad.


    I cross my arms and shrug, admitting internally that I’ve lost this one, nning my next move.


    “Fine,” I say, “where are we going.”


    N?velDrama.Org holds text ? rights.


    “We,” Victor says pointedly, cing one had on each boy’s shoulder and pulling them to him, “are going


    to Rollercoaster Kingdom!” The boys begin to yell, jumping up and down, not knowing what to do with


    their excitement.


    “Great, I can’t wait,” I say, smiling, my arms still crossed, refusing to be excluded. “Let’s get ready!”


    “Actually, Evelyn -” Victor says, but I interrupt him.


    “Who wants to see mommy ride the BIGGEST coaster!” I shout, and Alvin and Ian join in on a chorus of


    “me me me!” I smirk at Victor, knowing I’ve won this round.


    “Let me get my bag, then we’ll go,” I say calmly. “Should we pack a lunch?”


    “I don’t know, Papa,” Alvin says, his little courage failing him as he stares up at The Grave Digger, the


    tallest coaster in North America.


    “Ah, it’s not so bad,” Victor says, kneeling down next to him.


    “Yeah, it’s safe!” Says Ian, tugging on Alvin’s shirt. “They wouldn’t let you go on it if it’s not safe!”


    “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, Alvin,” I chime in. “Don’t let them peer pressure you.”


    “Are you doing it, mama?” Alvin asks, his voice wavering.


    Iugh a little. “No, while you do that, mommy is going to have some ice cream and sit on a bench,


    soaking up the sun,” I say, spreading my arms demonstratively and smiling up at the sky.


    “Well, if mama won’t go,” Alvin says, his hesitance renewed.


    “But mama said she was going to go on the tallest coaster,” Victor says, smiling cruelly at me. “That’s


    the whole reason we let here, after all.”


    “That’s true, mama!” Ian says, gasping. “You did say that!”


    “And mama wouldn’t lie,” Victor says, trapping me. I re at him. Damnit.


    “Well, I don’t want to leave Alvin here all alone,” I say, grasping at straws.


    “I’ll go if you go, mama,” Alvin says, reaching up to take my hand. I sigh, giving his little paw a squeeze.


    “Fine,” I say. “I’m in. Let’s go.”


    Fifteen minutes, we’re flying through the air, all shrieking at the top of our lungs, even Victor – the big


    bad Alpha – yelling like he’s about to meet his maker. The boys areughing and screaming, and even


    though I know that Victor only nned this spur-of-the-moment trip to take revenge on me for rejecting


    the payments I can’t help but be grateful that he’s brought my boys such joy.


    When we get off the roller coaster, I can’t stopughing, my knees shaking. The boys point at me,


    laughing, and Victor joins in.


    “Come on, bambi,” he says, affectionately throwing an arm around my shoulders. “Let’s get you that ice


    cream.”


    The boysugh and Alvin tugs on my shirt. “Mama, that was fun. Were you scared?”


    “Yes, baby,” I say, smiling down at him. “I’m d we did it – it’s good to be brave – but I have to say, it’s


    not my favorite ride.”


    “What do you like?” Ian says as we arrive at the ice cream booth and Victor gestures for 4 cones.


    “I’m more of a swings girl,” I say, throwing my arms out and spinning around. “I like the way it feels.”


    “Swings next, then,” Victor says, handing me a cone.


    The boys sit in two chairs in front of Victor and Evelyn, who ride the swings side-by-side. As the ride


    turns, everyone slowly rises in the air and spins around, the inertia pulling the long chains of their


    swings taut so that they float gently in the air.


    Victor watches Evelyn on the swings. Sheughs, throwing her head back and putting her arms out to


    the side, like a bird feeling the wind under its feathers. When the ride slows and stops the boysugh,


    turning around to their parents. “That was fun, mommy, I see why you like it!” Ian says, keeping his


    arms out.


    “It was like floating!” Alvin pumps his hands in the air. “Let’s go again!”


    “No, something else!” Ian says.


    Victor puts a hand out for Evelyn, helping her out of her seat once she has un-buckled. He raises an


    eyebrow, deferring the choice to her. Sheughs and shrugs. “I don’t really care, whatever you guys


    want.”


    Victor nods. “Lead the way, captains,” he cheers, and the boys take off running. Victor and Evelyn


    follow.


    Victor admits, silently, that he’s surprised at Evelyn’s capacity for fun today. It’s true, wanted to blow a


    bunch of money to show her that didn’t care where it went. But Evelyn didn’t let it bother her after they


    left the house – she just had fun.


    It was odd, to Victor, this choice to defer her rage and prioritize the moment. But as Victor tries to


    puzzle it out, he realizes, suddenly, that he doesn’t care. He watches Evelynugh, lifting her boys onto


    horses on the carousel and realizes that it doesn’t matter. That what does matter is this moment, this


    happiness, with his boys.


    Today, for the first time in a very long time, Victor feels nothing but joy.


    Briskly, without much thought, Victor decided not to question it and just enjoy the day with his sons.


    And with Evelyn.


    As the sun started to set, the boys started to g, clearly worn out by too many hot dogs and rides that


    flipped them around in every direction.


    “When we get home,” Evelyn says, yawning herself, “we’re going to start eating healthy. No more cake.


    Just vegetables for a while.”


    “No vegetables, ever,” Alvin says, tly, struggling to keep his eyes open.


    “Just cake.” Ian nods, agreed.


    Victor is smirking as they head to the front gates when, out of the corner of his eye, he spots someone


    kneeling next to a trash can, snapping pictures. Victor springs into action, immediately closing the


    distance between them and grabbing the man by the neck.


    “Who are you,” Victor snarls, lifting the man off of his feet and shaking him like a rag doll. “Why are you


    taking pictures of us!?”


    The man sputters, choking, wing at Victor’s hand around his neck. “Please!” He squeaks, gasping.


    “Help!”


    “Victor!” Evelyn says, hurrying to his side and pulling on his arm. “Stop, you’re making a scene! Let him


    down.”


    Victor drops the man, who crumples to the ground rubbing his neck and hauling in breaths. Victor


    scents the air around him – an Omega from another pack. “What the hell is going on?” Victor snarls.


    “I’m a…photographer…” the man says, panting, holding up a press badge. “From the Victory Review!”


    “That doesn’t answer my question,” Victor says, lowering over him. “Why are you taking these


    pictures?”


    “Your…your boys,” the man says, trembling, frightened into telling the truth. “I wanted to break the


    story, about your sons –“


    “Who told you –“ Victor snarls, panic raising in him, making it truly dangerous for the photographer.


    “I can’t reveal my sources,” the photographer mumbles, “They’ll…they’ll have my head,”


    “I’ll have your head,” Victor grinds out, his canines elongating, his nails beginning to inch longer as they


    form into ws. Evelyn’s eyes widen, she’s never seen him lose himself like this.


    “I’m sorry,” the man says, raising his hands to shield himself, uselessly. “I’ll go away, I won’t publish a


    thing, – I’m sorry” he babbles.


    Evelyn, thinking quickly, steps forward and takes the camera. “Do you have pictures of us on anything


    but this?”


    “No, I swear, just from today,” says the man. Evelyn nods and pops open the back of the camera,


    taking out the memory card.


    “There,” she says, cing a hand on Victor’s shoulder. “It’s done. He can’t do any real harm.”


    Victor’s teeth and hands begin to shrink back to their normal size. He snatches the man’s press badge


    out of his hand. “If anythinges out in the press before I’m ready to announce it, anything at all. I’m


    coming right to you.”


    The photographer nods, frantic. Victor brushes his hand through his hair, returning to his regr self,


    looking around to see if anyone has noticed the scene. They are lucky here, the only ones staring at


    him are poor Ian and Alvin, who are frozen about ten feet away, their eyes wide with shock.


    Victor curses under his breath and pull his wallet out of his pocket, taking out a wad of bills and


    dropping them on the photographer. “For the memory card,” he murmurs, “and for your silence.” Then


    he walks away.


    Evelyn gives the photographer onest look, mouthing “sorry,” and then chases after Victor.


    “Come on,” Victor says to his family. “We’re going home.”