Moriah walked into the kitchen, leaving me standing and unsure how to proceed. She returned with the small bag I’d packed and dropped it at my feet.
God damn, if she’d shoved me balls first into a meat grinder it would’ve hurt less. “Now?”
“Yes, please. Now.”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! Every muscle in my body coiled tight. Not happening. No fucking way.
And what the hell with all the dad talk?
I scratched my chin, gave her a cold stare, eyebrow raised, ya know, in case she wanted to change her mind, backpedal with some of the crazy talk.
Lips pursed, she stared back at me, then blinked, then turned to Mim and whispered, “Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”
Hard? Hard? How about fucking impossible? But shit, how could I tell her no after I’d flown thousands of miles to beat the hell out of the last man who didn’t respect her wishes?
She wanted easy? Fine.
I gave her easy.
I snatched my bag off the floor, and I left, leaving my motherfuckingpussyassbleedingheart behind.
# # #
Three times around the block.
A detour to the gas station to replenish my smokes.
A breather and a piss at the park.
Two hours. That was how long it’d taken to decide I was not heading back to Whisper Springs alone.
True, I was not, and never would be dad material. Hell, I wasn’t boyfriend material. But for damn sure, I was not whole without those two ladies in my life.
Didn’t understand, not one bit, why I needed to take care of them. Went against everything I’d ever believed about myself. Made me itchy, to be honest.
But they needed me, and I needed them. There it was. The bare bones. I was taking them back with me, no matter how long it took to convince Moriah.
So, there I stood outside her house, studying the brick entryway, the wrap around porch, the droopy flowers dangling from the overhang, and I scrambled to find the right words, come up with the right argument, to convince her to take a chance on a scumbag like me.
“You fucking whore!” came a deep voice, followed by the sound of glass shattering. “One day? You were gone one day and already fucking that trash?”
I made it to the door in three heartbeats, found Moriah in the kitchen, Mim wrapped around her body, head buried in her hair, and Matthew standing in the corner, face swollen, fists clenched, chest rising and falling in rapid bursts.
“Moriah,” I said, straining to keep the violence out of my tone while I moved between Matthew and my girls. “Take Mim out of here, will ya?”
“No.You take her out of here. I’ll deal with this asshole.”
Before I could argue, Mim jumped into my arms, coiling around me, clinging tight.
Shit. Fuck. Shit.
I tried to set her down, and she tightened her grip. So, I turned to the dead man walking. “You touch Moriah, I’ll rip your fingers off one by one. Then I’ll ship them piece by piece to your mother in Pittsburgh.” Yes, I knew where his mother lived. His sisters, too. I leaned closer and whispered, so Moriah couldn’t hear. “And that pretty little receptionist you’ve been banging? She’s the boss’s daughter, right? Those videos you thought were safe in your phone will land in Daddy’s inbox.”
Matthew didn’t meet my eyes, but his Adam’s apple made a slow bob. I could’ve stopped there, but what would be the fun in that? Tito was a good man to have in your corner. “Oh, and that sexual harassment case you won last year? The bribes? Know about those too. Yeah. I know all of your dirty little secrets, piss for brains, so again, I’ll tell you, don’t touch her, or you’ll be praying for death by the time I’m finished destroying your perfect world.”
Instead of smashing his skull against the wall, I headed down the hall and took Mim into the bedroom because, apparently, I was the bigger man in the scenario.
Shouting started the moment I set Mim on the bed. I dug through Moriah’s desk and found a set of headphones. “Put these on, Little Lady. You don’t need to hear that shit.” I tugged my cell out of my back pocket, scrolled until I found the game app Rocky had made me install, and passed it to Mim. “I’ll be right back.”
She curled against the headboard, pointed at the door, silently ordering me to make sure Moriah was okay, and pulled the comforter over her head. God damn, that little warrior was amazing.
I stayed in the hall, out of sight, but only a breath away.
“What is it with that guy? What’s he gonna give you? Black eyes and Hep C?”
“You know what, Matthew? He’s given me more orgasms in two weeks than I got from you in four years. Hell. Now that I think about it, he gave me more in the first night than you ever did.”
“Ungrateful little cunt. I gave you everything. This house, your job, fancy dinners, social status in this town.”
“This house was my mother’s. You only helped me get the hounds off our backs when the medical bills started coming in. And you know what? Fuck you. Yes, I said it. Fuck you! Fuck. Fuck. Fuck you and your fancy, ass-kissing, social-climbing dinners with a bunch of uptight assholes in their pretentious suits with their arm candy wives. Not one of them ever gave a shit that my mother was dying in the hospital. Not one of them ever asked how I was doing, dealing with that nightmare. I didn’t want friends like that. I never asked for anything from you. Not once. Except for a place to land when I was falling, and fuck you for not giving me that. Fuck me for being stupid enough to think that one day you’d give me that.”
Moriah moved closer to Matthew, her ire vibrating the air.
He swallowed. Tilted his head. “I love you, Moe.”
“You love my tits. You love my pretty face, and you love that when we were out together, everybody fawned over what a pretty girlfriend you had, and what a lovely couple we were. You loved that your boss and my father were best friends, and that helped you climb the ladder. You loved that you didn’t have to work at our relationship, that it was easy, that I never questioned anything.”
“You loved me too. How can you just throw that away?”
“I was comfortable.”
Matthew cleared his throat. “Give me another chance, Moe. I can get you your job back.”
Silence.
A shit-ton of turbulent, ugly silence.
“How did you know I lost my job, Matthew?”
That fucking slime bag piece of shit. My body coiled tighter than a valve spring.
Moriah’s chest expanded. She released a slow breath.
“Matthew. How did you know?”
“Moe.”
A hard slam.
“You got me fired?” Glass shattered. Once, twice. “You got me fired. You thought I’d give up Mim if I didn’t have a job to come home to. You thought I’d let her go if I didn’t have the means to support her.”
Dickface cleared his throat. “You need to understand.”
“You don’t know me at all.”
I came around the corner because that girl needed to know somebody had her back.
“Well, Matthew. Guess what?” Moriah marched into the living room, then returned, digging through her handbag and coming up with her cell. She thumbed the screen, put the phone to her ear, and waited.
“Hi. This is Moriah Peterson. “Yes. Yes. Thank you. I would love to take the job. Next week? Yes. Absolutely. I know. I’d have been crazy to turn it down. I’ll see you then.”
Her phone landed on the counter. Then that little firecracker stood toe-to-toe with the douchebag and pointed in his face. “I got a job all on my own.”
My gut dropped to my feet. Oh, fuck. What job?
My world seemed to spin out of control, until she continued, “In Whisper Springs.”
Swear to Christ my heart stopped beating, then started up again, triple time.
“You can have this house. I’ll have my realtor contact you with the terms of the sale.”
Head held high, Moriah shoved past me and headed down the hall. A door slammed,
vibrating the walls.
Gloating would’ve been bad form in the current situation. Also, it would’ve made me look pathetic. So instead, I grabbed Matthew by the collar and shoved his back against the wall. “You’ll pay double what she’s asking for this house, or all the dirt I’ve dug up on you will go public and you’ll spend the next fifty years taking it up the ass in a six-by-eight cell. Got me?”
The cocky fucker finally met my glare. “I don’t want this house.”
“Yes. You do. Trust me. You do.”
I dragged him to the back door. Tossed him off the deck, locked shit up tight, then got busy cleaning up the broken glass.
With a fucking smile on my face.
# # #
“What are you doing?”
I dropped the armful of empty boxes on the living room floor. “Helping you pack.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re moving.”
“Right. But. Stop. I can do this.”
“Jesus, woman. I’m here. Let me help. You’ve got a lot of shit to deal with. Movers are coming in two days. You need to find a place to live. Need to get your affairs in order. Let me do the heavy lifting here. Besides, I’ve got Mim to help. She looks like an excellent packer, don’t ya think?”
I lifted Mim’s arm and squeezed where her bicep muscle should be. “We’ve got this, right Little Lady?”
Mim nodded, biting back a smile, then slapped her hands on her aunt’s ass, pushing her toward the small office.
“Fine. Fine.” Hands to the air, Moriah surrendered, her eyes lighting up at Mim’s playful gesture. Before closing the door, she shouted, “There are stacks of newspaper in the garage if you need them.”
“We got this.”
Mim and I started on the living room, which didn’t take long. After ditching her ex, there wasn’t much left as far as decorative belongings. Fuck. I hated that guy.
By noon, the living room, extra bedroom, and the majority of the kitchen were reduced to stacks of boxes. Taped and labeled in Mim’s six-year-old handwriting.
Clearly the little lady had had some schooling in her short, turbulent life.
I ordered pizza for lunch. Paid the delivery guy, made Moriah come out to eat, then sent her off again to do her business.
Mim and I hit the back bedroom. I left her to the bookshelf and made my way into the bathroom to see what damage I could do in there.
I started with the pictures on the walls, then grabbed all but the necessities out of the drawers and off the shelves. When I reached for the trash can, making to empty the thing, I damn near choked on my own heart. Two fucking pregnancy tests stared up at me, like little fucking jokers, blaring the word PREGNANT.
I dropped my ass to the side of the tub.
No fucking way.
No goddamn fucking way.
Fuck my life.
No wonder she wanted me gone.
She was pregnant with her ex’s child. Her ex, who didn’t want a child.
That explained the daddy talk.
She’d been right to push me away. I wanted Moriah, no arguing that point, but I sure as hell wasn’t down with raising another man’s child. Not that I had a dislike for kids, so much, but the thought of raising one, of being responsible for their emotional well-being, scared the shit out of me. I wasn’t fit to be a dad. I’d fuck up a kid. Violence. Survival. Club life. That was all I knew. And why the fuck did she send Matthew away, take the job in Whisper Springs, if she knew she was pregnant? The man was a shithole, no question, but he had every right to know he was going to be a father.
I hated that guy even more than I had five minutes ago.
Moriah’s voice carried through the room. “Hey, Mim. I think we need a break. What do ya say we head to the park for a while? Where’s Dane?”
Shit. I moved to stand, my damn hip catching, and I fell back, my ass landing inside the tub, my legs dangling over the side.
Moriah came through the open door. “Hey.”
No sense scrambling to get out.
Her gaze lingered on me, a smirk settling on her face, until she noticed the dropped trash bag, and the Clearblue sticks.
“Crap,” she mumbled.
“Yeah. Crap.”
“Dane, I—”
I choked on my anger, shoving that shit deep. “You need to tell him. You need to tell him today.” I didn’t try to get up. I hadn’t the energy, physical or otherwise. “You can’t move to Whisper Springs if you think there’s a chance to fix things between the two of you.”
“No. God, no. Wait. What?”
“He’s a fucking asshole who doesn’t deserve you, but you’re having his baby. I hate the fucker, I want to kill him, but he’s the father of your child, and he needs to know. You can’t keep something like this from him.”
Shaking her head, she mumbled, “Matthew never wanted kids, Dane. That’s why I dumped him in the first place. He didn’t want me to bring Mim home. He wanted me to leave her to the state. I mean, seriously, what kind of human being would abandon any child in need, let alone family? But that doesn’t matter—”
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” Was she seriously considering not telling him? That wasn’t the Moriah I’d fallen for, and God damn I was pissed, not just at her, but myself for giving a shit, but God damn.
Pure rage gave me the muscle I needed to get myself out of the tub, and I cornered Moriah, making my distaste for her decision clear. “I was an unwanted child, and fuck’s sake, I swore I would never do that to a kid, which is why I’d never considered having any. But you can be damn sure, if I’d been foolish enough to knock-up a chick, I’d want to know. I had a kid out there anywhere, I’d make sure that kid knew his father. I’d make sure he knew he was wanted, whether I believe I’m dad material or not.”
Those hazel beauties filled with liquid shame and I hoped to God I was getting through to her.
I planted one arm on the wall above her head, cupped her cheek, and stole a kiss. Our last, most likely, if she chose to do the right thing, because I wanted her, true, but I wasn’t one to fuck around with another man’s woman.
She tasted like salt and sunshine, and what was meant to be a goodbye seemed more like the beginning of a slow death, because the knowledge that I might never taste her again, feel her skin against mine, or that I may never be the target of that precious smile, or hear that laugh, or share a private conversation in the dark of night, well that shit cut like the drag of a slow blade that would peel my flesh away layer by layer until I drew my final breath.
I kissed harder, pulling her tight to my body, taking my last greedy fill.
Moriah sobbed into my mouth, curling around me, clinging with every muscle in her body, like she, too, understood we were sharing a goodbye.
I pulled away. Studied those fucking gorgeous eyes. Brushed that soft, unruly hair off her face, and whispered, “If circumstances were different, gorgeous…” I choked on my words, unable to speak the truth I’d held in since our first night together.
“What.” She blinked up at me, her hands fisting in my T-shirt. “Say it, Dane. If circumstances were different, what?”
Fuck it.
“I’d make you mine. Make sure the world knew you and Mim were mine.”
“Dane,” she said, barely a whisper, her voice as broken as I was.
My guts twisted something fierce. I’d protected myself from bullshit emotions my entire life. Seemed I’d been right in doing so, because every time I’d thought I’d cared for someone, they’d been taken from me. My mother. Slade. Addison. Rocky. Still, I gave her what she needed to hear, knowing that was the last I’d ever be able to give.
“I’d never let you go.”
“Dane, I—”
I jerked away from the wall. “Don’t say it. Moriah. Don’t. I can’t hear it.” I would break. In front of her, in front of Mim, I’d crumble, and they needed me whole to get through the next couple of days. Until I knew she was okay enough for me to go.
&nbs
p; “Dane. Wait!”
I found Mim at the front door, a smile on her face. “Ready for the park?”
She nodded. I knelt and grabbed her laces, tying the left, then the right shoe.
Moriah came down the hall, face flushed, pulling her hair into a knot on top of her head.
“Dane,” she pleaded. “Wait. I…um. Shit.” She planted her hands on her hips, dropped her chin. Then chuckled.
I planted a hand on the wall to hoist myself back to the standing position.
“Mim,” she said, voice shaky. “Could you grab us some bottled waters out of the fridge?”
I started toward the kitchen. “I’ll get them.”
Moriah shot an arm out to stop me. “Mim. Please?”
Mim skipped away. I stared at the hand curled around my wrist, unable to meet her eye to eye.
“I haven’t had sex with Matthew in over four months.”
Because he’d been fucking the receptionist, I thought to myself before her words sank in. I shook my head, the room going blurry.
“What the hell’d you just say?”
“I haven’t had sex with anyone but you in over four months.” Her voice trembled. “Matthew isn’t the father, Dane. You are.”
The rug seemed to fall from under my feet, and my knees hit the floor with a sickening crack. I felt no pain. I felt nothing.
“Dane.” Moriah kneeled in front of me. “Dane. You okay?”
Moriah
“Are you sure this is okay?” I asked Slade, for the umpteenth time, kissing the top of Mim’s head, curling my fingers into her shoulder and pulling her tighter against my side.
Letting go seemed impossible.
“Of course it’s okay. I wouldn’t have it any other way. Besides, Rocky is so excited. He has the whole day planned out.” She leaned back and studied me, her brows pinching. “Mim will be fine. If there are any issues, we know where to find you. I have your number, and the number at the office. And really”—she gestured to Mim—“she seems to blossom around my little guy, and he’s not so sad about his grandpa when she’s around, so this is a win-win for everyone.”
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