Finding Home

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Finding Home Page 7

by K. L. Humphreys


  I shake my head and inhale deeply so I don’t bite the poor woman’s head off for no reason. “No, he’s done something to scare and upset you. Why the hell should you keep quiet about it? You’ve done nothing wrong.”

  “Fine, he started talking about you again. He’s told me he’s got his friend looking deeper into you. I don’t get it, Trent. Why is he being such an asshole? He also said he’s digging into my background too. If he does he’ll find out about…” She shakes her head like she’s trying to shake thoughts out of her head.

  “About what?” I ask gently. I knew she hadn’t told me everything that night. I don’t want to push her but Riccardo is dangerous, if he finds out things Michelle doesn’t want him to find out, I have no doubt that fucker will blackmail her into doing what he wants.

  She pulls her sleeve up and she rubs her fingers over the tattoo that says “Hope.” Before she even brings my fingers down onto it, I already know what I’m about to feel. My index finger slowly caresses the soft skin of her wrist before grazing over the raised skin where her tattoo is. My girl tried to commit suicide.

  That raised skin beneath my finger is like a punch to the gut; it’s winded me. This beautiful, vibrant woman who’s sitting in front of me shouldn’t have had to reach so fucking low that she turned to the only way she saw out. “When?” It comes out like a strangled plea.

  She shrugs, and it’s pissing me off. “The first time was right after Eddie happened and Dad was arrested.”

  “First time? God, Michelle.” It’s hard to swallow, especially after witnessing eighteen-year-old Johnny do the same in prison. There are so many times I sit and wish I had helped him, that I had been there for support.

  “I know, I was alone and I had no one to turn to. Had no way to escape everything I was feeling. My thoughts were loud and they were taking over, I needed them to be quiet, I needed everything to be quiet. I did the only thing I thought of.” Tears are falling and her body bucks, she’s back remembering what it felt like to be that low. I pull her into me and give her the support that she never got before. “Thank you,” she whispers.

  “Don’t thank me babe.” I hold her tighter as her tears fall harder. “If you ever get that low again, you call me. I don’t care where I am, you call and I’ll come running.”

  She buries her head deeper into my arm. “What, even if you’re married and have three kids? Don’t be stupid, I’m fine. I won’t go back there again. I won’t let myself get back to that place.”

  “Babe, I promise you, even if I’m across the fucking Atlantic Ocean, you call and I’m here.”

  “Don’t do that Trent, don’t make promises you can’t keep,” she begs, and I fall a little harder for her. “Please don’t do that.”

  “I don’t care if I have to beg, borrow, or steal. You call, I’m here.”

  Her body shakes as she as she begins to rub her wrist.

  “Saying that, though, I’m hoping if I’m across the Atlantic that you’ll be with me.”

  “Wow, that is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.” She pulls back and gives me a watery smile.

  “Yeah?” I ask her and watch as she nods. “Michelle, you know assholes.”

  It’s fucking true. She deserves so much better than what she’s had in the past. I hope she allows me to show her how she should be treated. This woman makes me want to show her the world and I’m pretty sure that I’ve fallen for her, hook, line, and sinker.

  I giggle like a schoolgirl. He gets me, gets how to lift my mood and make me smile or laugh. “Don’t we all?” I smirk as he nods his head.

  When Dad told me that he wanted me to take in Trent and give him a job, he didn’t tell me anything other than Trent needed my help, he had nowhere else to go. I thought Trent would be an asshole, I thought the same as a lot of people would when they find out he’s been in prison, that he’s a thug and a criminal. That is far from the truth, God, Trent’s been in my life less than a week, and I can already tell he’s one of the good guys. He’s genuine and sweet and yes, he screams danger but he’s not dangerous to me.

  “Michelle, why did you do it?” There’s no judgment from him, he’s genuinely interested as to what made me reach that point.

  “This is why I haven’t gotten close to anyone before, I didn’t want to hash out my past and bring up everything that was already buried.” I don’t want to talk about it, it’s a time in my life that was horrendous, but I moved on and I’m a hell of a lot stronger now.

  “Okay.” His voice clipped as he takes a sip of coffee. Okay... that’s it, that’s all he’s going to say?

  He’s pissed that I’m not opening up to him. He keeps glancing at me he’s expecting me to change my mind and tell him and for some reason, I’m compelled to tell him. It’s as though I am confident he won’t judge me for the things I’ve done.

  “Ugh, I’ve known you a short time, and you have me spilling my guts already. What is it about you?” I’m talking more to myself than I am to him.

  He’s confused. “I could say the same thing about you. You’ve got me in knots.”

  The intense stare he’s giving me sends chills down my spine. I take a deep breath and get ready to tell him the worst thing about me.

  “After Eddie died and Dad was sent to prison, I moved into here. This very apartment. Grandma was amazing, she was there if I needed her, but she wanted me to have my own space. For me, it was too much too soon. I hadn’t come to terms with anything that had happened and all I felt was despair. All I did was cry, I had no energy, I had no will to get up and get dressed. I used to lie in bed all day and no one was there to help me through it. I was depressed.” Fuck, I’m crying again. Why does talking about it get to me so much?

  “Did your grandma not see how depressed you were?” Pain is written in every single feature on his gorgeous face.

  “Yeah, she didn’t understand how to help. It wasn’t something she had experience with. My grandma was old school, and mental health was and still is a stigma. You don’t talk about it. She had no idea what to do, and I can’t blame her for that and I don’t. She couldn’t help me with that but she helped me in other ways, once I slit my wrists, she found me and she brought me to the hospital. She made sure that I was seen by the best doctors money could buy, and she made sure that I was going to be okay.”

  “It’s not all about the best doctors or throwing money at it,” he spits out, his eyes narrowed and his fists clenched. I’ve noticed that he clenches his fists a lot when he’s angry or upset, almost as if he’s trying to calm himself down.

  Why is he getting so angry about it?

  “I know that but you have to realize Trent, that not everything is as black and white as you may think. My grandma tried her best, she really did, and I love her for it. Eventually, she got me the help I needed. It was a hell of a lot more than what my parents did for me. I get that you’re mad that she didn’t see the signs but Trent, she had never seen them before that so she didn’t understand how to help.”

  His eyes widen as realization hits. “Okay, so you said the first time? What happened after that?” He asks gently, his eyes soft as he looks at me, I see how much he cares about me in the depths of those honey brown eyes.

  I should have known he’d bring that up. He’s not judging me and deep down that’s what I think I fear the most. People coming to their own conclusions and judging me for what I did.

  “When Grandma died. It hit me hard. I mean she was fine, the life and soul of the party. Always quick with a remark if needed, she was larger than life, hell she was life. She breathed life into me, and because of her, I was happy and loved. I was eighteen, and Grandma was the first one in our family to love me. Do you know how that feels?”

  He reaches out and pulls me back into his body as I begin to sob. I let the grief out that I haven’t felt in years, I cry because I miss her dearly and I feel bad because I’ve yet to visit her grave.

  Once I stop crying and compose myself, I pull back out of
his arms, grateful for the support. “I don’t remember much about the day she died after that I was numb. The funeral passed in a blur, but all I do remember is the amount of heartache I felt. It was as though I was broken, I couldn’t stop crying, I couldn’t function with all the hurt that I was in. I had no one, I just wanted the hurt to end. I walked over to Grandma’s apartment, and I understand now that it was the wrong thing to do. It was too soon and I was way too vulnerable, but I walked in and I lost it even more. The reminder that she was gone was even greater and I crumbled, I shattered right then and there. I went to her room and laid on her bed, just hoping I could get closer to her.” God, the pain I felt was indescribable, and I pray that I never feel that way ever again. I don’t believe I can survive if I did.

  “I saw the bottle of sleeping pills and I just wanted to sleep, I wanted to escape it all. I wanted the voices to quieten down. So I took them, I was unconscious when the EMTs arrived but I’m thankful that they arrived when they did. Ethel and Agnes came to check on me and saw Grandma’s door ajar.”

  “Baby, you’re fucking strong. One of the strongest people I know.” The awe in his voice has me pulling back to gaze at him, is he for real?

  “Strong? I’ve told you I’ve tried to commit suicide twice and you think I’m strong?” I’m laughing. I mean where does he get strength from that?

  “Babe, yes, you’ve reached rock bottom twice. But look at you now, you’re strong, you know what you want and you’ll go for it.” That smirk of his is back. “Take me, for instance. If you didn’t want me you would have told me to fuck off the first day.”

  He’s right, I would have. I crack a shaky smile. “There’s still time yet.”

  He narrows his eyes at me. “Not going to happen.” He gets all serious again. “What I was saying was, you’ve come a long way. Yes, you may be hiding who you are from the world, but inside, you know who you are, and you’re settled.”

  “I am settled, and in a sense I am stronger but that’s not to say it has anything to do with the suicide, while yes surviving them has made me stronger in a sense. Growing older has too. Sometimes people feel that suicide is the only way out and it truly isn’t. I’ve hit rock bottom before and I don’t want to be in that place again, I will fight my way out of that feeling.”

  “Really?” He asks skeptically. He’s not convinced, and I‘m not sure what else I can say to him to make him see that I’m telling the truth.

  “Yes really. I’ve had help, I had an amazing therapist who has truly helped me over the years come to terms with everything that has happened, and I still have her number if I ever need her again.”

  Relief enters his eyes but I still see the worry swirling behind them, I get that he won’t instantly believe me and that’s fine, when he understands me properly then he may believe it. “Yes, so I don’t think it’s right that Ric is digging into our backgrounds, either of ours. It’s none of his damn business, and he’s abusing the power he has.”

  “I don’t like him, I haven’t since the moment I laid eyes on him. Something about him doesn’t sit right with me. I’ve been locked up with the worst of the worst and I’ve seen their eyes, the evilness they have inside. Riccardo screams sociopath.” My mouth opens in shock at Trent’s words. “Why are you so shocked? There’s something about him that doesn’t sit right and you can’t say you’ve not thought the same thing.”

  He’s right, I’ve always felt weird around Ric, there’s something that has had me backing off a lot. Since Trent’s come though his behavior has intensified, he’s different and I don’t like it. “But a sociopath? Come on Trent, don’t you think that’s a bit extreme?”

  He shakes his head so hard it’s a wonder he’s not getting whiplash. “No, it’s not extreme. The guy’s up to something and I’m going to find out what it is.”

  “How are you going to do that?” I ask although there’s no way he’s going to do it.

  “Mrs. Ethington. I’m going to ask her for her son’s number.”

  “What?” I screech. “You can’t be serious. God Trent, she’ll ask why you want it. She’s not one to keep quiet, if she thinks we believe Ric’s bad news she’ll start snooping too.”

  He laughs at me. “So, it’ll give her something to do. I don’t trust the man and I certainly want to find out everything I can about him. If it’s good for the goose it’s good for the gander.”

  I’m utterly confused. “What do geese and ganders have to do with this?”

  “It doesn’t matter, the point I’m getting at is why should he do a background check on us and we not do the same?”

  “But Trent he’s a cop. If he finds out…” What the hell am I trying to say right now? Yes, there’s something about him that doesn’t sit right and I’d love nothing more than to find out what it is but at the same time, it’s an invasion of privacy and I hate that he’s going to do it to me. Why should I make someone else feel like that?

  “Yes, he’s a cop but what’s he going to do? He can’t arrest us because he’s done the same thing to us. Let’s talk to Mrs. Ethington. If she doesn’t agree with us that Riccardo is dangerous we’ll leave it at that?” I don’t believe he’ll leave it at that, I think he’ll continue with this line of enquiry whether Ethel agrees or not. “What do you say?” The hope on his face shines through, the need to know that this isn’t in his imagination. That he’s not crazy.

  “Yeah, we’ll go and talk to Ethel.” I stand up and wait for him to stand too, I want to try to do something, and I hope I don’t freak out. His gaze is focused on me; he’s curious. I just smile; he’s done so much to boost my confidence around him. I love that we’re so comfortable around each other and it’s going to be fun learning things about each other.

  He stands, and I put my arms around him, hugging him. It’s the first time that I’ve initiated contact between us, and it feels right. When I pull back, I lean up on my tip toes and kiss the edge of his lips. Just a quick peck, my heart starts to pound, and it’s not because I’m scared, it’s because I want more.

  His smile is so endearing, and I can’t help but smile back, the more I’m around him the more I fall. Yeah, I think I’m falling for him. “What was that for?”

  I shrug. “Because I wanted to.” I can’t stop smiling, and it’s weird especially after the talk we’ve just had.

  “Let’s go and see Mrs. Ethington.” I take his hand as we walk out of his apartment. “When did you switch apartments?”

  “It took a while after Grandma died. I couldn’t bear to move any of her stuff. Slowly but surely I began to come out of my funk. Overhauling the apartments helped take my mind off of things. Grandma’s was the last I needed to do, and it was the push I needed to get it done. Once the apartment was done, I moved in. It seemed right, she loved this place as do I. It’s where I finally found home. Not only that, I changed my surname from Small to Nelson; it was Grandma’s maiden name.”

  “I’d say she’d be proud of you.” I stare at him. “You’re fucking incredible, and I’ve only known you a few days, and I’m proud of you.”

  “I hope she is, it’s one thing I truly care about. That I make her proud. She was there when I needed someone, and she didn’t need to be, you know? She raised her kid already.” Some people might have just left me with my mom and seen me every couple of months.

  He knocks on Ethel’s door, and he stands with his hands behind his back. He’s really respectful; I wonder why he’s not been like that with me. I mean yes he’s respectful but he doesn’t and hasn’t called me, ma’am like he does to Ethel, Agnes, and Maggie.

  The door opens, and a happy Ethel walks out. “Well lookie here, don’t just stand there come on in.”

  Trent leans forward and kisses her on her cheek. “Mrs. Ethington, I’ve missed your cooking.”

  She laughs as she bats his arm away from her. “Why you cheeky… Shelly, are you going to just stand there watching?” Her calling me Shelly is a reminder of my grandma, it’s what she called me, and w
henever I hear it, I instantly think of her.

  Walking into her apartment, I take a seat on the sofa beside Trent, I’m instantly transported back to when I was eighteen and hadn’t long lost Grandma, Ethel used to bring me here to make sure I would eat. Sometimes I would sleep on the sofa. I will always be eternally grateful to both Ethel and Agnes, they have not only kept the spirit of Grandma alive but they also love me fiercely.

  “So, what’s got you all jumpy?” That’s Ethel, never one to beat around the bush. She’s staring at Trent as though he’s about to run off.

  “Ma’am, I wanted to ask you for your honest opinion on something.” Shit, Trent sounds serious, if I didn’t know what he wanted to ask her, I’d be on high alert.

  “Yes, I give you my full blessing. Hurt her, and I hurt you. Understood?” She smirks like a pleased mother.

  I’m sitting here like a goldfish, my mouth opening and closing. I have no idea what to even say to that.

  “Yes, ma’am. I won’t hurt her, and if I ever do it will not be intentional. I know you care a great deal about Michelle, and I promise that I’ll take care of her.” Damn that man and his smooth talking.

  “Michelle, you look happy with him. That’s all I want for you, that’s all May would have wanted for you too.” If Ethel could, she’d probably be doing the jive right now, she’s grinning from ear to ear, she’s pleased with herself.

  “I am happy. We’re taking it one day at a time. We’re getting to know each other and besides, that wasn’t what he wanted to talk to you about.”

  Her happiness instantly dissolves. “What is it?”

  “Mrs. Ethington….”

  She shakes her head. “We’re practically family. You can call me Ethel.” Holy shit, she’s letting Trent call her by her first name. That is huge. No one but Agnes and I call her Ethel.

  Off course, Trent has that signature smirk on his face. “Ethel.” He nods his head at her, cocky asshole. “I wanted to ask your opinion on Riccardo.”

  Ethel sits a bit straighter. “What’s he done now?” she asks, and she’s pissed off.

 

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