I think about myself. I think about the woman I murdered. The unborn child I slayed. Then I think about a chance to make it all right. No, I can never bring that woman or her baby back. But maybe I can help Channing out. Maybe I can protect them.
Maybe.
If she’ll let me.
If she’ll allow me to help her—help them.
Chapter Seven
CHANNING
He’s watching me. He didn’t run away, in fact, he didn’t really have much of a reaction to my announcement at all. I couldn’t bring myself to say the words aloud. I’m glad that I’m showing a little bit, allowing my body to do the telling, was better. At least I thought it would be.
“You thinking about that? About takin’ care of that baby?” he asks, dipping his chin to my belly.
Immediately, I wrap my hand around my belly in a protective move. “Never,” I breathe.
A slow smile appears on his lips. “Didn’t think so. Had to be sure,” he shrugs.
We stay quiet for a few more moments. I wait for him to continue. I know he has something else to say. He has to, no way could he just let that roll off of his back. He wants to say something, but I’m so nervous as to what’s going to come out of his mouth.
“Rylan?” I ask, unable to take the silence a moment longer.
His eyes lift to mine, and I gasp at the intensity in his brown gaze. “You need me,” he murmurs. “I haven’t been a good man for most of my life, but you need me.”
Shaking my head, my bottom lip trembles before I speak. “I don’t. I have this, I promise I do,” I breathe.
He smirks, his mischievousness back and plastered all over his face. He reaches forward, his hand wrapping around mine. Looking down, I take in his heavily tattooed hand and arm against my stark plain creamy skin. We are so different. He is so different.
“You love him?” he asks.
My gaze snaps up to his. “I thought that I did. But that wasn’t love, not the way we were together,” I admit.
He nods once, his hand squeezing mine. “Then you need me, both of you do. At least until this shit blows over,” he says, with a single nod.
“I can’t ask you for anything, you’re a single man. I’m sure you don’t want to help out a pregnant woman,” I say.
He squeezes my hand again and I lift my eyes to his. “You ain’t askin’ me for a goddamn thing, sweetheart. I’m offering. You need me, both of you do. I knew it the moment I saw you.”
“What did you know?” I ask on a whisper.
He leans forward, his lips too close to my own, and yet, not close enough. “That you were special and meant to be in my life. I just didn’t know how you would be there. Although, I knew it wouldn’t be as a one-night stand. And since that’s the only kind of relationship I’ve ever had with a woman, I’ve been conflicted.”
I jerk my head, unsure of what he’s actually saying. “What are you saying?” I ask. I want to know, or maybe I need to know.
“I don’t know. All I know is that you need me and I think I might need you, too. There’s a reason, I need to be near you. There’s a reason you call to me,” he says sounding so damn calm.
I don’t know how he can be so calm, not when my heart is racing and threatening to flop out of my chest and onto the floor.
Rylan lifts his hand, reaching for me, and wrapping his fingers around the back of my neck. They are warm and give the illusion of being protective. In fact, I feel safe around him. I know that I shouldn’t. Not with what Lulamae told me. He’s trouble. He’s just been released from prison. He’s a convict.
His other hand, he reaches forward and opens his palm, resting it on my belly. My breath hitches, which causes him to smile. It isn’t cocky, it looks beautiful and genuine. His white teeth are straighter than I imagined, and on display for me.
“Let me take care of you. If it’s just as friends, then that’s what it is. If it turns into more, then it does. But you need me, Channing. Let me take care of you both.”
I bite the corner of my lip, inhaling a deep breath before I let it out. Without thinking, I make a snap decision. “Yes. Okay. I’m scared of that woman and honestly, I don’t want James anywhere near me. I’m nervous about what’s to come, and I’m woman enough to admit that I can’t do it all alone,” I say.
I don’t know why I trust him, but I do. I’m drawn to him, just as he says he’s drawn to me. His fingers around the back of my neck squeeze me. Lifting my eyes to his, I let out a breath and smile.
“How much are you going to let me in, sweetheart?” he asks.
I want to tell him all the way. The light brown eyes that stare back at me, are inviting, they’re almost too inviting. I bite the corner of my lip, unsure if I can let him in as far as I want him. If that’s what he would want. I want to tell him that he can be completely inside of me, all the way, any way he wants to be. I don’t.
“Whatever you want, Rylan. It’s up to you. I’m opening myself up to you, to this, whatever you wish to offer me. I want it all, anything that I can take. Otherwise, I’m going to have to figure out how to move, because the way they are, I don’t think I can stay in this town alone.”
His head dips, his nose slides alongside my own, and I close my eyes as I hold my breath, waiting for his kiss. He doesn’t kiss me though. Not at all. He releases my neck and pulls away from my body. Slowly my eyes open and he’s smiling over at me.
“Let’s start with you giving me your schedule. I get paid Friday. I owe Wyatt some money, but after that, my paycheck is my own. I don’t make a fuck’ve a lot of money, but I make enough to help out as much as I can. Maybe later we can get a bigger place, but how about I move what shit I have over this weekend? I can couch surf for a while.”
“You’re going to move in?” I almost screech.
He chuckles, his eyes smiling as much as his mouth. God, he’s gorgeous. I don’t think I can live with him, not in this little one-bedroom. Just sitting here on the couch he takes up so much of the place. Having him everywhere, it’s going to be too damn much.
“Can’t protect you with no car, livin’ with Wyatt. Besides, I think he wants his house back.”
Pressing my lips together, I roll them around for a few seconds. Then I nod. He makes sense. “I can’t let you sleep on this little couch,” I point out.
He shakes his head. “Sweetheart, trust me when I tell you, I slept in much worse places. This is just fine. I’m trying to get on my feet, and so are you in a sense. We’ll help one another, and you need a break on the rent I’m sure. You’ll want to start saving for baby shit,” he suggests.
My hand goes to my belly, and I can’t stop my smile, then I nod. Just thinking about how expensive that baby boutique was makes me nauseous. I can’t afford anything like that, and I hope that I can at least get the basics. Having someone pay part of the rent and bills will make life so much easier to save for this new little one.
“Okay, yeah,” I nod.
I hold my breath when he leans forward. I can’t deny that I’m slightly disappointed when his lips brush my forehead. They’re warm and soft, I want them anywhere else. But on the forehead is what I’ll have to take, at least for now.
RYLAN
“Are you fucking crazy?” Wyatt asks after Channing drops me off back at his place.
I shrug, looking at my cousin. “Probably,” I admit. “But she’s pregnant, and you saw what that bitch did. She don’t need to be alone.”
“You know helping her, it won’t change what you did,” he says, his voice softening.
Lifting my chin, I nod. “I know it won’t. But maybe God will give me a couple points for trying to be a better fucking human.”
“The fact that you want in her panties has no bearing on your decision either?” he asks, lifting a brow.
Chuckling, I punch him lightly in the arm. “It don’t hurt,” I shrug. “Learned a lot about opportunities and feelings when I was locked up. I got a feeling about her the second I laid eyes on her, and it
wasn’t only in my dick. She needs me, Wyatt. I think that maybe, I need her, need both of them, too,” I shrug.
He shakes his head. “Don’t fuck her over. She’s a good kid in a fucked up situation, but a good kid nonetheless.”
“She don’t look like a kid where I’m sittin’,” I wink.
“You’re such a fucking horny bastard.”
Leveling him with a gaze, I lift my eyebrow. “Locked up for five-years with nothin’ but my hand. You would be horny as fuck too, but that’s not the sole reason I’m doing this. She really does need me. Even if I don’t end up in bed with her, I’m willing to help her.”
Thankfully, Wyatt doesn’t say anything else. He only shakes his head and I know that he thinks this is all a misguided attempt at making me feel better for my actions. It does, but only slightly. I still feel like a piece of shit, and what I did still weighs heavily on my shoulders, it always will, it will never go away.
I killed two people, I killed them and there is nothing that can make that right. No amount of protection of another mother and child will ever take that away. I can be a better man though, I promised them I would be. I promised myself that I would be, and this is an opportunity. Even if it’s selfish as fuck, it’s still an opportunity to do better, to be better.
“We got work in the morning,” Wyatt announces.
Nodding, I stand from the sofa. “You cool with this? Do you think I’m making a huge fucking mistake?” I ask.
His eyes meet mine and I swear to fuck they darken when they do. “I worry about you. Worry that you’ll slip back to the man you were. In that same breath, I want this plan of yours to work out. Not only for you but for Channing too. The girl didn’t deserve what hand she’s been dealt, then again, neither did you.”
He leaves, not allowing me to respond. It’s actually good, because I don’t know what I would even say. I don’t want to be the man I was—not ever again. However, it would be an easy habit to fall back into.
I’ve stayed inside, made myself pretty much a hermit since I’ve been out. Except for the night out at the bar with Wyatt and his friends. I didn’t drink though, I stuck with water no matter how badly I wanted to have a glass of whiskey.
Taking myself to bed, I quickly strip down to my boxers and crawl between the sheets. Lifting my hands above my head, I lace my fingers together and place them beneath the back of my neck. I stare at the ceiling. I don’t see the cottage cheese that’s sprinkled above me.
Instead, I see Channing. Her long blonde hair, her big scared blue eyes. Visions of that douchebag appear, as well. Except he’s not breathing. He’s lying in a pool of his own blood. I would do it, too. He deserves it, every fucking bit.
I saw what they did to pedophiles in lockup. This fucker is exactly that. Doesn’t matter what Channing says, he’s a pedo. If I could take him down, I would. Doubt anyone would believe her or me in this town though.
The ex-con and the other woman, no doubt viewed as scorned. We are fucked. Good news is she has me at her back. I just hope she thinks I’m worth being there. That I’m worthy of the position I’ve planted myself in.
Closing my eyes, I try not to think about her or him anymore. Thinking about what he did to the girl will do nothing but fuel my hate and anger. I can’t let myself drown in any more negativity. I have enough that surrounds me.
I sit up with a jolt, my heart racing. Something has startled me awake. Staying quiet, I listen to the house. I hear a noise coming from the hallway. As quietly as I can, I walk to my bedroom door and slowly open it, until I can poke my head out.
I see a dark-haired woman tiptoeing from Wyatt’s room, toward me. “You lost?” I ask her on a whisper.
She freezes, her eyes finding mine in the dark, looking like a fucking deer in headlights. “No?” she says, posing it like a question.
“He gonna be pissed I let you sneak outta his bed?” I chance asking.
I watch as she bites the corner of her lip. She shrugs one of her shoulders and I chuckle, shaking my head. “Probably,” she admits.
“Get outta here, girl,” I say shaking my head.
“Thanks, you look good, Ry,” she mutters as she attempts to hurry past me.
Reaching out, I wrap my hand around her wrist before she makes it past my doorway. She turns to face me and now that I can see her clearly, it hits me like a ton of bricks. “Sammi?” I breathe.
She nods, her eyes searching mine. She glances back at the closed bedroom door behind her, then back to me. “I can’t stay away,” she admits.
“It ain’t healthy, not for either of you,” I point out.
She gulps, I can hear it in the quiet stillness of the house around us. “I’m leaving town in the morning. He doesn’t know. I need to move on with my life and so does he,” she admits.
“He does for sure, fifteen years is a long fucking time to mess around like this,” I point out.
She bites the corner of her lip. “We need our freedom. Tell him for me?”
“You’re a pussy, you know that?”
She snorts. “Baby, I’ve been a coward since I was twelve years old. I know. That shit won’t change, which is why I’m leaving town.”
“I’ll tell him,” I nod.
She gives me a shaky smile as I release her arm. I watch her walk away, tiptoeing out of the dark house like her ass is on fire. A throat clears and I look back behind me at my cousin. “She’s gone. For good,” he announces.
“She is,” I nod.
“Good. Needed to be done a long time ago.”
I snort. “Like fifteen years ago when she did what she did,” I point out.
He nods, his eyes meeting mine from across the dark hallway. “Tried to hate her over the years, never could. With her being here, we just kept dragging each other down. I need a fresh start. So does she. Sammi ain’t a bad person, just made a shit life choice all those years ago. I don’t hold it against her.”
“Better man than I am, cousin,” I say.
He nods once, lifting his hand to run his fingers through his hair. “Not really. Just fucking resigned. If I don’t forgive her, or myself, I’ll have too much hate inside of me. Fifteen years doesn’t take away the pain, but I’m a different man. I can forgive her.”
Without saying anything else, we both turn around and head back to our own beds. I doubt Wyatt sleeps, I know that I don’t. I lie awake thinking about Channing. Wyatt probably thinks about the years with Sammi. And when our alarms simultaneously sound at four in the morning for work, both of us look like we got the same amount of sleep, zero.
Neither of us makes a comment as we get ready for work. We go through the motions while hoping that tomorrow brings a better day, a less emotionally draining day. One can fucking hope.
Chapter Eight
CHANNING
Lulamae gives me a look. I know what kind of look it is. She’s judging me. She knows something is up, and she’s trying to figure it out, all the while deciding it must be awful or just plain stupid. It probably is a mixture of both. If I already know that going in, does it make the decision better or worse?
“Okay. Tell me,” she demands as we stand side-by-side filling up containers of sugar for the late morning rush.
I sigh, refusing to look at her face. “Rylan Lindsay is moving in with me.” I hold my breath waiting for her to speak, she doesn’t say anything right away and just when I think she’s not going to, she finally speaks.
“Why?”
Lifting my gaze to finally meet hers, I give her a shaky smile. “Jennifer and James are hostile, and angry because I won’t do what they want me to do. Jennifer slammed her grocery buggy into me yesterday. Rylan saw it happen. He’s afraid for us. He knows about me. He said he’d help me out with bills and sleep on the couch,” I mutter.
Lulamae snorts. “That boy won’t sleep five minutes on that couch. He’ll be in your bed, between your thighs on night one. Mark my words, honey. Those Lindsays don’t do nothin’ for free and he’s not going to l
et convenient warm pussy stay untouched in the next room.”
“Lula,” I hiss.
She shrugs, taking a step back and wipes the sugar from her palms. “Just telling you the truth, hun. For what it’s worth, the sex is probably better with Rylan than it ever was with that teacher.” She winks before she turns and walks away from me.
My mouth drops open slightly as I watch her walk away and back into the kitchen. The bell that’s above the front door rings, which causes me to jump slightly. Snapping my mouth closed, I turn around to face the incoming patrons.
A wave of nausea rolls through me when I see who has just walked inside. At this point, I wish it was James or Jennifer. No, the person who stares back from me is a worn-out version of myself. My mother.
“Table for one?” I ask, attempting to sound unaffected by her sheer presence.
I highly doubt that she’s here to eat. My mother hasn’t had an actual meal in probably ten years. She’s weathered and skinny. The typical drugged out alcoholic cliché.
“Heard you was knocked up,” she states.
I’m glad that the diner is empty save for Lulamae and the cook, Clarence. I hear something behind me, and I know it’s Lula coming back from the kitchen. I hear her grunt at the sight of my mother. She hasn’t been around here in a while. Once she figured out that this job didn’t mean drug money in her pocket, she promptly pretended I didn’t exist, which is better than the alternative.
“Not sure why it’s any of your business,” I point out, arching a brow.
She smiles widely, and I cringe at the sight of a recently missing tooth. “Just thinkin’. You’ll be wanting a babysitter, and who better than that thing’s grandmama?” she announces.
Narrowing my eyes, I take a good hard look at her. She no doubt wants money. Thing is? I don’t have any for her, and even if I did, I would say I didn’t. This bitch is vile. Always has been. Plus she just called my baby a thing.
CONVICT: An Unfit Hero Novel Page 6