I should ask Vivian to come to my room. Tell her everything I’ve discovered. She would try to convince me to find him by telling me Riddick would protect us if he knew. It’s one of those easier said than done situations. You have to be walking in someone else’s shoes before you can comprehend the terror they feel caused by the invisible scars that cast a deadly shadow over your sense of reasoning. It simply isn’t that easy.
Let’s not forget that Riddick is a changed man. He more than likely hates me. God, he is even more handsome than he used to be. He’s aged well with his square jaw and deep-set eyes. I imagine his body has, too. Muscular, fit, and powerful. Or he’s buried six feet under. “No. Stop thinking that,” I tell the devil who’s trying to bring me back to the dark side.
My stomach continues to churn at that thought of deep, dark despair. If he is, all the hopes of him meeting our son someday or allowing me to explain to him what happened will simply never be. “God, what do I do now? Help me out here. I need a sign, something to show me the right thing to do,” I stutter.
Suddenly, the air becomes thick, too much for me to take. Shoving the laptop aside, I ditch the comforter and hop off of my bed. I twist open the door and run down the hall to the door leading to the steps that take me down to the driveway. I gulp in a huge lungful of air, the tears hitting harder with every step I take toward the beach. I run across the dewy grass, hit the sand, and stop when the dark waters call my name like a dream.
And now, silence surrounds my chaotic mind. I wrap my arms around my waist, and my shoulders sag. Minutes, hours could have gone by with me standing out here unable to move. Remembering him is gutting me. My heart is shattered. I don’t know what to do, where to go from here. All I know is for Ethan’s sake, for my sanity, and to know the truth, I have to find out. Finally.
“Cora, what the hell are you doing out here?” Vivian. Oh God. I need her more than the day we met.
“What the fuck? You’re shivering and crying. What’s going on?” She comes to stand in front of me, the sky barely bright enough to embrace me with her worrying face.
“I…I found him,” I manage to choke out.
“What? Who? Are you talking about Riddick? Where? And why the hell wouldn’t you let me know you were planning on looking for him? Good Lord, Cora. Where is he? Is he alive?” She rattles her questions off in a heated flurry. I don’t know where to start, so I yank her down onto the cold sand with me. Her arms are instantly tugging me close to her side.
I start from the beginning, with Ethan and me at the beach today, leaving nothing out. Telling her that the combination of today’s events made me realize it was time to do it. Time to be a big girl and find out for sure.
“He’s a hero, Vivian. All this time I truly believed they killed him, started a war up there. You know better than anyone that’s why I never watched the news or paid attention to the gossip about gangs or clubs. I didn’t want to know. The knowledge of anything pertaining to violence in this world freaked me out. You saw how I acted when I first met you and now… now, what if he’s locked up somewhere with PTSD or something? What if he’s missing over there? He’s really been at war all this time, only somewhere else. My God, Vivian, what if he’s dead or missing? My mind won’t stop, Vivian. It’s traveling like it did all those months after I left there. I don’t know anything else other than that. It’s as if his life ended a few years ago. We have to call Dad. Hire a private investigator. I...I have to find him,” I plead with her as if she has all the answers, while she sits there with me in her arms, her fingers sliding gently through my hair. Her sobs are mixing with mine.
“Do you know how to get ahold of his father?” she asks soothingly, kissing the top of my head as she stands. She brushes off the sand and helps me up, my body instantly going rigid.
I shake my head. “I’m not sure if I’ll be welcome, but a drive up there would give me answers.” I follow suit and wipe the sand off the back of my leggings with trembling hands.
“You know you can’t go up there. Not by yourself. What if you run into Jesse?” she points out.
“Then I’ll kill him,” I disclose. “This is all his fault. Every damn painful day I’ve lived. Every day Ethan has been denied his father is on him.”
“Cora, will you listen to yourself? You need to be rational, think with a clear head. I know just the thing you need. Come on. Let’s get you a glass of wine to help you sleep, tucked into bed; we can call Mom and Dad first thing in the morning. You know we’ll figure this out as a family.” She loops her arms through mine as we start to walk back toward the house. For some reason, I glance at my neighbor’s house. I inhale a sharp, silent breath when I see two men standing in front of a window; their eyes peer outside. One of them is the long-haired, sexy guy from earlier. The other looks like Clark Kent. Both of them are sinfully delicious.
All thoughts of how ruggedly handsome I thought the man earlier was cling to me like the salty air. I may have possibly moved next door to some sexy men, but none of them compare to the man in my head. The man I saw in his Army Dress Blues, stripes, medals, badges. I’m curious to find out everything I can about the Army, exactly what Riddick did over there. How he survived, where he is now. I stop a couple of feet from our door, look my sister in the eye, and admit my heartbreaking feelings out loud.
“He must hate me for leaving him. I’ve always wondered what bullshit lies they told him about my sudden departure. A part of me knew they told him I was alive and left him before they killed him themselves; but now that I know it was a fucking lie, it kills me to think what kind of shit spewed out of their mouths to convince him not to come searching for me. Riddick wouldn’t have given up looking for me, Vivian; he wouldn’t have taken the coward’s way out like I did. He just wouldn’t. We loved each other so much. I still do love him. I ache for him more now than I ever have. He made me feel whole, Vivian; and now I don’t know what to do, what to think of any of this.” I heave in a deep breath then blow it out, repeating this technique several times until I feel my heart rate settle and my nerves calm from their haywire frenzy.
“You didn’t take the coward’s way out, Cora. You were threatened by someone who should have protected you. The life of your unborn child was in danger. After everything you’ve been through, how in the hell can you stand there and call yourself that? You saved both of their lives by leaving. It was a ploy, a threat that you took to heart. You loved both of them enough to listen. You just said it was all Jesse’s fault. Don’t you dare stand here and try to convince yourself otherwise.” She grips me by the chin to direct my eyes to hers.
“God, I’m so glad you sat next to me on that bus. I have no idea where Ethan and I would be today if it weren’t for you.” I let more tears fall as she tugs me in her soothing arms. This intelligent, caring woman and I have been through many things together. The list is too long to create. We’re each other’s go-to person for everything. Shoving all of that aside, I’m in the here and now, where my sister, friend, and child’s godmother is clinging to me as if my pain is hers. It is in a way, when two people who were meant to meet become as close as we are. Destiny. It’s a sealed bond that doesn’t need protecting. Vivian and I are sisters who never fight and always try to help the other in a time of need.
“You would be the same person you are now. That boy’s wonderful mother.” Her words are true. Since the day I found out I was pregnant, I’ve tried to do right by him. Protect, teach, and support him. Love him with all of my heart.
She starts to cry again along with me. Vivian isn’t a crier. She takes her anger and pain out by inventing her own vocabulary of fucked-up words she randomly thinks up. Her crying now tells me she’s feeling those deep emotions that have her twisted up right along with me.
“I can’t make this about me; it has to be about Ethan and how he’s going to cope with all of this. We can’t mention a word of this to him yet; not until we have answers,” I say while lifting my head and looking in her tear-stained eyes.
“If you’re looking for answers, Cora, I have them. Do you have answers for me?” I startle, unable to move. That voice. I know it. Though it’s deeper, darker, and huskier than it was. Oh, my God!
My hands that were gripping Vivian tight slip to hang lifelessly by my sides; my legs turn to mush, barely able to allow me to stand.
The only time I hear that voice is in my dreams.
“Sweet Jesus,” Vivian exclaims.
I’m afraid to turn around, scared out of my mind that this entire night isn’t real, that I’m stuck in some kind of once-upon-a-time, where a girl meets a boy, they fall in love, voyage out into happily ever after. A dream come true.
“Turn around, so I can see you, please?” Oh God, it can’t be him, can it? My heart falters, my teeth chatter, and my mind rattles inside my head. I feel my legs finally give out. Before I hit the hard wooden deck, I feel a pair of strong familiar hands wrap around my waist. The sweet smell of something new and different mixed with a scent I’m well acquainted with.
“Riddick.” I succeed in saying his name without losing my voice. Without crying out loud.
We may be breathing the same air, standing in the same space right now, but I’m finding it difficult to get air into my lungs. Riddick’s warm breath hits my ear, and for the first time in twelve years, I want to turn around and take a good, hard look at my past.
6
RIDDICK
Even though I’m standing outside in the wide-open air, I feel as if the universe is closing in on me. My lungs compress, my heart seizes within itself, and all of a sudden I can’t take any more. My legs shake, and my knees bend, and before I know it, I’ve yielded to the pain, my body giving out, and then I collapse to the ground.
The sound of her voice takes me back to the happiest days of my life. Only she didn’t sound pained then; she wasn’t struggling to breathe the way she appears to be now. She was happy, full of life, and the brightest part of my day. My heaven, my angel. Now she’s suffering in a way that has me on my hands and knees, fingers digging into the dirt like it’s my goddamn lifeline because I can’t begin to understand what she’s been through or how she’ll react if I were to step out and prove to her that I’m very much alive and I’m so damn sorry I didn’t demand my dad to go to every extreme to find out if those bastards were lying to me. I fucking believed them like she did. That she was struck down in cold blood, because, hey, let’s face the facts here. Gangs and clubs shoot each other all the fucking time. It’s not uncommon to flip on the television to the news and see the violence in the streets, the war zones in neighborhoods. Especially out here, where crime is at its all-time high. People will shoot you for a stick of gum. Even back then it happened. Every damn day. Revenge stuck in those people’s heads that they can’t think of anything else except to strike back in the one spot they know will leave the living bleeding for the rest of their lives. I’m thankful she ignores that shit. Blood, guts, and brains all over the place. People simply don’t give a fuck about others.
Reality is a bitch when the one you love stands mere feet away from you, spilling her guts out and shattering an already broken heart into the tiniest fragments. Good God Almighty, I want to run to her, pick her up, and dissolve her agony out of her system with my mouth fused to hers. Take her to my room and show her that no matter how much time has passed between us, she is without an ounce of doubt the love of my life. She owns my soul. I want to hold, touch, and feel her in ways that will make the earth quake between us. Our souls have been entwined since the first time we said ‘I love you’ to each other. After all these years, we’re still joined right in the spot that makes us alive. Our hearts. It’s a quirk of fate. A paradox full of denials, questions, answers, and one beautiful child sitting right in the middle. Goddamn it all to Hell. I want to know that kid so bad. To hear him tell me about his life, his passion, his goals. I need to hear him call me Dad, to see his face light up when I walk through the door. Everything I’ve missed in his life comes crashing down like a storm ready to sweep me away. The anger I felt earlier is drowning in the deepest part of the ocean behind me. She didn’t leave me by choice. Cora was forced to leave. Jesus Christ, this is as insane as life can get.
Every bit of anger I felt toward her is gone with the wind, lapped up from the surge of the ocean and dragged to the bottom. I doubted her. Gave up on why she left me without an explanation. And now that I hear things I shouldn’t be hearing, in the way of hiding behind a goddamn tree, I feel free for the first time in years. Free to go to this woman and tell her everything. Meet my son, start from scratch if we have to.
Every hard-to-hear word coming out of her sweet mouth is a bitter taste of contaminated pollution. Her fucking brother destroyed us. Led me to believe she was dead; and by the sound of it, she believed I was as well.
Jesus Christ. How in the hell could someone do such a thing? Dirty fucker.
I can’t take this anymore. I need to ease her pain. I listen, waiting to see if they will leave. When I hear her friend tell her it’s time for wine and bed, I stand up, dust myself off, and step out of the shadow. Nothing is going to stop me this time. I glance up to see the guys standing at the window, observing me. They’ll most likely barge out of there when they see me moving toward her. I don’t care. I’m not letting her sleep one more night without knowing. We have plenty of time to talk this out.
In this very moment, I’m glad for my stealth training, my job to be able to pace with an unheard slyness. I stop at the edge of their house, the view of her more heartbreaking now as she stands in the middle of their deck and spills her heart out even more, leaving it right there for me to pick up and put right back where it belongs. Next to mine.
I move. She’s so close. “If you’re looking for answers, Cora, I have them. Do you have answers for me?” I say with a slight stutter. Her entire body goes stiff as a board. Hands dropping, head snapping up; and for the first time in years, I’m breathing her air. I nod my acknowledgment toward her friend, inhaling the scent of Cora’s beauty. The scent of her.
I’m close enough to her that when her legs give out, I instinctively catch her around the waist to stop her from falling. God, her smell and the warmth of her body consume me. Captivate me and trap me. Haunt me and soothe me at the same damn time.
It feels like eternity times five since I’ve held her. Years of dreams of being able to take her on a date, to be the guy every man in the room was jealous of because I had the most stunning woman on my arm. To romance her, whisper beautiful things in her ear that my teenage self hadn't learned yet. I want to let all of it slip out of my mouth right here and now. Not one of those dreams compares to the real her beneath my fingers.
She’s so small compared to me. Nonetheless, we fit, and we always have. Cora is the woman for me. My entire front aches with a sensation of warmth and completeness of having her in my arms. Safe and peaceful. It’s the best fucking feeling in the world. That is until she starts struggling to pull away from me. I hold on to her tighter. I know she’s freaking the fuck out right now as her whimpers grow louder. She’s hurting. Confused. I don’t care. She needs to calm down before her son, our son, hears us or walks into the kitchen and sees her thrashing about in a strange man’s arms. That is not the way I want him to meet me.
“You’re my heaven on earth, my angel. Please stop fighting me,” I say calmly.
“Those words,” she whispers. “He’s the only one who ever said those to me. Oh my God, Vivian. I…I feel like I can’t breathe, my chest hurts and my head is going to explode. Tell me it’s really him; tell me I’m not dreaming. Tell me, Vivian.” Her voice grows louder, her pain stretching with every syllable, with each excruciating, gut-piercing word she says.
“Cora, stop. It’s him. I swear it is. He looks different, but I swear to you it’s him. You need to settle down, take a deep breath, and turn around and look at him.” Cora sucks in a torn breath; the muscles in her abdomen grow tight. Thank fuck, this woman is composed, because I�
��m sure the hell not; and neither is Cora; especially if we’re going to see each other for the first time after the life we planned together was taken away by that bastard. She may look the same, but I sure the fuck don’t; that’s one thing I can agree with. Most people eye me up and down as if I’m a freak with my jet-black hair, tattoos, and a face that’s aged, worn out from the desert sun.
“I don’t know if I can. I’m scared. This is too much for me to bear. Dear God. Ethan. You need to check on him. Keep him in his room. He…he can’t come down here. He can’t see me like this or meet him this way.”
“You sure? I’ll stay here if you need me to?” This Vivian comes to an inch within Cora’s face.
“I’m sure,” Cora voices, barely audible.
The last thing I want to do is for my son to see me holding on to his mother while she fights to escape my arms that are wound tightly around her. I let her go, my hands missing her as I patiently drop them to my sides. Her soft body stops moving as does mine. The three of us stand there stiffly. The only sounds are her muffled sobs mixed with my heavy breathing.
“I’ll go as long as you tell me you’ll be all right.” Vivian doesn’t look at Cora when she asks that. She looks directly at me. Her protective eyes are boring into mine, telling me I better be for real. I better not say a thing to hurt her, or she will gut me alive. I simply nod and watch her pull Cora into her arms. My angel is going willingly. I’ve never been more thankful in all my life that my girl found someone who loves her as much as I do. It kills me that this woman has had those twelve years with her that should have been mine. However, I’m happy she hasn’t gone through life alone.
Then There Was You: A Single Parent Collection Page 13