Now Open Your Eyes (Stay With Me series Book 3)

by Nicole Fiorina

  But I couldn’t fucking lie to her.

  So, I told her everything.

  “What were you thinking?” she shouted, pacing the burgundy carpet of the room. Her arms flew around in the air, tears stained her cheeks, and this wasn’t how I wanted this day to go.

  “I couldn’t sit back and do nothing.”

  “A fucking gang, Ollie? Go big or go home?” she laughed humorlessly, “You were finally doing something for yourself. You got out of that fucking life, away from your brother! And you’d risk it all?”

  Something incredibly justifiable should have left my mouth, but she was right to a degree. Yeah, I’d risk it all. I could’ve told her none of it mattered if she wasn’t with me, which was one hundred percent accurate. Mia had been missing, and I’d risked everything to find her. If we could go back in time, I’d do it all over again too. But the only reason my mouth slammed closed was that if the roles had reversed, I’d never want her to give up her dreams, risk her life, or take a wrecking ball to everything she’d accomplished for me. I’d want her to continue pushing forward. Mia was fucking right, but so was I.

  Her palms raised in the air, and her eyes were a rare shade of gold. The tears and disappointment in them made them look even more lovely, and I didn’t know how it was possible. “You have nothing to say?”

  “I don’t know what to say,” I admitted.

  “I want you to take me back to my dad’s. I can’t even look at you right now.” She’d said it, but her eyes were still on me, not only staring at me but expressing love and devotion no matter how hard she tried to fight it. Sure, she was terribly angry, but her eyes anchored to mine, already regretting saying to take her back. But Mia was too stubborn for her own good. She wasn’t going to change her words although she’d already changed her mind.

  “All right, if that’s what you want.” I know you like a book, love. “But, I do have one thing to say.” I stood and took a step forward. Her hands clenched into fists, and I wanted to reach out and take them in mine. “I wouldn’t have changed a bloody thing.”

  The drive back to Bruce’s was silent. She hadn’t said a word, not even when I pulled into the driveway and noticed Bruce returned from work early, exiting his truck. After turning off the engine, I got out to shake his hand out of respect.

  Bruce greeted me in slacks, a button-down shirt, and a laptop bag crossed over his chest. Mia blew past us like a child and I shook my head and held out my hand.

  “What did you do?” Bruce asked with a laugh.

  “Only love her. Too much, apparently.”

  He nodded, confused by my vague response. I wasn’t about to tell him that his future son-in-law had done odd jobs for a gang to find his daughter. Perhaps after the wedding.

  “Why don’t you come by for dinner? It would be nice to have another guy around for once.”

  “A home-cooked meal? I haven’t had that in … I can’t remember how long. What time should I come by?”

  “Oh, man. Six. It’s Italian night, and Diane makes a mean Lasagna.”

  Lasagna had been invented and claimed by the British, not the Italians, but now wasn’t the time to educate him. “I’m looking forward to it.”

  “You have horrible taste in fashion,” Bud stated from the chair, flipping through my book. “I remember the days we’d show up for dinner with the parents wearing a suit and tie.”

  “You’re not helping.”

  “I suppose it’s better than those rags you usually wear,” he tsked, “millennials.”

  “Go to work, Bud.” I shoved my foot inside my boot, wondering why he was still here.

  Bud stood and adjusted his blue vest. “I’m five hours early. But you know what they say. If you’re on time, you’re late, and If you’re early, you’re on time. Well, I came up with that one all on my own. It’s what got me the job thirty-two years ago. That and my charming smile.”

  “Surprised they didn’t let you go for talking the guests out of the building.”

  “Someone’s cranky.”

  Exhaling, I sat back over the bed with my other boot in my hand. “I got myself into a mess to get Mia back, and now I’m terrified it will be the very thing that will take her away from me.”

  “Quite a pickle you’re in.”

  “Come on, Bud. It’s not a bloody joke. Can you be real with me for five seconds? Be useful for a change?” Usually, I didn’t talk to elders like this, but Bud was a cross between a fairytale character and Mr. Rogers.

  “Advice is what you’re looking for? All you had to do was say so. Take it from me. I was married for over fifty years, wanna know why?” I lifted my hands in a get-on-with-it gesture. “Most women want a man to take care of them, but the wild cards want to be treated as equal. Whatever it is, don’t fight the battle apart. Fight together. Don’t make decisions for her; make decisions together. Be the OG’s, Bonnie and Clyde. Fast driving, guns blazing. You two against the world.” He nodded and held up a finger. “Yup, I am one percent sure, that’s what she wants.”

  My brows snapped together. “One percent? And what about the other ninety-nine percent?”

  “Mia sounds like a wild card, and you wouldn’t have fallen in love with the other ninety-nine percent.”

  You could tell the dining room hadn’t been used in a while. Bruce was back in his relaxed attire, wearing loose jeans and a t-shirt, and he offered me a beer. I accepted to get me through dinner. Stepping into their home was like being locked inside a coffin six feet below ground. It was suffocating, hostile, and nerve-wracking, and no one has yet to say anything. No one had to. Diane’s eyes were invading Mia’s and my space, judging every bite, sip, and where our hands were.

  Bruce cleared his throat. “Where were you born in the UK?”

  “About an hour outside of London, but I don’t live there anymore.”

  “No? Where do you live now?”

  “Right now? Old Mill Inn.” I laughed, trying to lighten the mood. No one else laughed.

  “You should stay with us. There’s no point in wasting money when we have an extra bedroom.”

  “He’s not staying here,” Diane snapped. “You can’t just invite people to stay here without talking with me about it.”

  “It’s okay. I didn’t come here to intrude. I only came for Mia.”

  “Well, I’m ready for another beer.” Bruce stood from the table. “Oliver?”

  “Yes, please.”

  Diane glanced over at Bruce. “Haven’t you had enough?”

  It was amazing, really. Twenty minutes into dinner, and I’d learned more about communication and marriage than I would have from a counseling session. I slid my hand over Mia’s thigh under the table, and she threaded her tiny fingers in mine. Regardless if she was mad at me, I’d never had to doubt we were in this together. Bud was right.

  “You two have been together for what? Two years now?” Bruce asked, handing over an already opened Bud Light.

  “Yes, sir.” We cheered before he sat back down. Bruce wasn’t so bad. He just had no more fight in him any longer.

  “You should run now,” Diane said through a small chuckle. “Do yourself a favor.”

  My knee bounced. I looked over at Mia. Her eyes locked on the untouched lasagna before her, and I offered her a few seconds to stand up for herself. She didn’t. I looked over to Bruce, and he remained quiet. Mia’s faced this kind of bullying for over ten years, and I leaned back in the chair. “You know, taking Mia and running far away from here doesn’t sound like a bad idea.”

  A laugh cracked from Bruce, and Diane rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean.”

  “I know what you’re implying. I’m just not entertaining the ludicrous suggestion.”

  Diane’s eyes narrowed at me. Mia hadn’t been kidding, she was more vindictive then Dex Sullivan, and there was something dark and buried behind those eyes. “You’re the only fool at this table, Oliver. She’ll do nothing but lie, cheat, and steal from you,” her eyes darted to Mia, and Diane gr
imaced, “but only after she sleeps with half of your friends.”

  “Diane!” Bruce pounded over the table, and the beer knocked over.

  I stood, taking Mia with me, but she jerked from my hold. “What did I do to make you hate me so much?” Mia cried out. “I’m sorry for what I did. I told you I was sorry. Every day I’ve been trying so hard, but I can’t go back and change anything!”

  “You want to know what you did?” Diane shouted.

  Bruce stood and grabbed her arm. “No, Diane. That’s enough.”

  “I lost my baby because of you. You killed my baby! The hell you brought into this home, the worrying, the anxiety, the panic attacks. You killed the only thing I ever wanted, and that is something you will never be able to change.”

  Mia froze at my side. Bruce hung his head. Diane fisted her hands, tears pouring. I turned my back to everyone else to face Mia, and I didn’t know what to say. I tried to take her hand and pull her away, but she stood there, ready to face it.

  “I’m sorry,” Mia whispered, shaking her head. She looked to her dad and dug her teeth into her bottom lip. “I’m sorry, I … Didn’t mean … I didn’t know.”

  “It was a girl. I was supposed to have a daughter, and I ask God every day why you’re here, and my daughter’s not,” Diane cried out. “I’ve tried to look past it, I’ve tried everything. It’s not fair. You don’t deserve to be here. You deserve to rot in hell.”

  “Mia,” I turned back to face her, but she jerked from my grasp, took off out of the dining room, and ran up the stairs.

  I was stuck, unsure if I should chase after her or put these two in their place. My mind raced and my fingers pushed through my hair. “I’m sorry you lost your baby, but that wasn’t Mia’s fault, and you know it! She didn’t ask for this!” I raised my arms as my eyes darted back and forth between the two of them. Neither one of them said anything.

  Diane cried. Bruce rubbed his temples, rubbing his wife’s back, and my mind raced, heat flaring over my skin and burning my eyes.

  I paced the dining room, trying to calm but their silence only fueled my frustration. I slapped my hands over the table and looked up at them. “And you didn’t just lose one daughter. You lost two. Mia’s your daughter too, and she’s been living in this house for over ten years, and you did nothing but push her away. She needed you! She needed both of you! Mia’s been there this entire time, right in front of you, screaming for someone to bloody hear her.”

  I gathered a breath and wiped my face into my sleeve. My hands shook, and I allowed a few seconds pass to calm myself before addressing them again. Otherwise, I’d taken a chair to the glass cabinet behind me. “Thank you, Bruce, for inviting me to dinner. I know the kind of husband I want to be for her—one with fucking balls. And Diane,” my eyes slid to her, “with all due respect, your baby is gone, but Mia’s still here. Don’t take that for granted.”

  They both looked at me, stunned, and I took after Mia, climbing the stairs and barging into her room. My heart plummeted when my gaze landed on her opened window, but then I saw her brown hair blowing in the wind.

  I climbed through the small window and took a seat behind her, stretching my legs out across the shingles. She sank between my legs and my arms wrapped around her chest.

  There had been many times I’d sat under this same sky, dreaming of this very moment. In love, high off solid ground, and my girl in my arms. Any other time, I’d shout to the moon, say we’d made it.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her head falling back against my chest.

  I looked down to see her face soaked, but eyes dry. “No, I’m sorry.”

  She tilted her head when her eyes met mine. “What are you sorry for?”

  That things weren’t easier. That I didn’t find you sooner. That I couldn’t take you away yet because of the bloody court date. But I settled on, “I think I just called your dad a pussy.”

  Mia laughed lightly through a sniffle. “Well, someone had to say it.”

  “Turn around, love.” And she twisted in my arms, pushing her legs over mine. Mia shivered inside an oversized black sweater, leather looking leggings, and Christmas socks. I dipped my hands under her sweater to grip her sides as she rolled her hips closer. She blinked up at me, golden brown and bewitching. “Now, close your eyes.” A smile fought its way over her lips. I lifted my brows, and Mia shook the hair from her face, lifted her chin, and closed her eyes.

  “Where are you taking me?”

  “We’re not going anywhere, I just wanted to do this.” I lightly kissed her, and afterward, she dropped her head into my neck and laughed.

  We stayed like that for a while, under the starry sky. I stroked Mia’s back until she fell asleep in my arms, thinking of all the baggage I’d left in the UK. My first and only priority was Mia, but if I didn’t handle my end of the deal, it would follow us for the rest of our lives.

  An hour passed, and I woke her up and helped her back through the window. She was half asleep, mumbling about ‘a guy she dreamed about,’ and how he saved her, and I only told her that if he was real, give him my thanks. She passed out in bed, and I kissed her forehead before leaving. Mia was out cold in two seconds.

  I walked down the stairs and noticed Bruce sitting outside on the back patio, looking out into the forest. At the last second, I figured I’d talk to him and pushed open the back door. Bruce was sitting in a rocking chair in front of a controlled fire pit, a cooler of beer resting at his feet. He turned to look at me before dropping his head back. “Take a seat.”

  Diane must have turned in early. Hesitantly, I sat in the other rocking chair and pushed my legs out in front of me. The lights from the fire lit up his crestfallen features, and he bent over to grab another Bud Light from the ice and handed it over to me.

  I’d never been a beer drinker, but cracked it open with my forearm, not leaving the chap out here to drink by himself. “I want to apologize for what happened tonight, but the truth is, I can’t,” I admitted.

  “You were right.”

  “Wish I wasn’t.”

  “You know what’s so fascinating to me,” he leaned in and planted his elbows over his knees and cocked his head, “my twenty-year-old daughter has a more mature relationship than I do. What does that say about me?”

  “That your daughter has brilliant taste in men.”

  Bruce chuckled, leaned over, and clanked his bottle against mine. “You’re a good man, Oliver.”

  “I’m sorry about your wife,” I stated, looking out into the fire.

  “Diane means well.”

  “I’m not talking about Diane. I’m talking about Mia’s mum, Jackie. I’m sorry about what happened to her. I can’t imagine ever losing Mia, let alone trying to get by each day.” The toll it must have taken on him over the years. It made me sick just thinking about it.

  “Jackie was a good woman, the love of my life. I think Diane sees that too. If it weren’t the baby, it would be the fact I’d never fallen out of love with my late wife,” he chugged from his bottle, then let out a sigh, “nothing will ever fill that emptiness. Not Diane. Not fucking Bud Light. Trust me when I say, don’t wait ‘til someone dies to remind you what’s in front of you. Know now. When I look back at it all, want to know when I was the happiest?” His eyes moved from the label peeling from the bottle to me. “We were so broke,” he laughed, “Mia was only two years old at the time, sleeping in her crib, and our electric got cut off. Jackie and me, we moved Mia into the living room with us and lit a fire in the fireplace. Jackie hijacked the neighbor’s Wi-Fi, and we curled up on the couch and watched Rush Hour from her laptop.” Another laugh escaped him and pushed his fingers across the bottom of his nose. “The damn movie froze every five seconds. I think it was the longest movie we’d ever watched together, but I never wanted it to end. But Jackie fell asleep in my arms and the laptop died eventually, and it was so quiet. Right then and there, I knew I would never be happier. Shit, was I right.”

  It was quiet again,
and the fire crackled before us as I digested his words.

  “I’m marrying Mia.”

  “Are you asking for my permission?”

  I shook my head. “Advanced notice.” I should’ve asked for permission, and I’d thought about it out of respect, but Bruce nor Lynch had hardly been a father. Nodding, Bruce handed over another beer. “If you keep feeding me alcohol, I’m going to have to sleep on your couch.”

  “Please, I’d sleep better knowing you were in the house. I’m afraid a knife-wielding PMS-ing maniac will gut me in my sleep here,” he laughed. “And I’m not referring to Mia.”

  “Ah, you’re on your own with that one.”

  “You handled yourself pretty well in there. I’ve never heard anyone speak to Diane like that. She went straight to bed, and it’s only,” Bruce glanced at his watch, “Shit, It’s only eight-thirty. I’m getting old.”

  For hours Bruce and I kicked back around the fire, talking and drinking. It was almost midnight before we turned in, and he threw me a blanket and pillow from a chest in the corner of the living room. I told him he was asking for it, defying his wife. He said she wouldn’t leave her room, and I’d be safe. I clicked on the telly, turned down the volume, and a Friends marathon was on.

  My eyes flitted open to see Mia standing above me, shaking me. “What are you still doing here?”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose, still out of it. “Your dad got me drunk.”

  Mia giggled, and my gaze roamed over her bare legs, the lights from the telly bouncing off her ivory skin in the dark. She had little sleep shorts on and my MAKE LOVE NOT WAR tee. “What are you doing awake?”

  “I can’t sleep. Ever. I came down for a glass of water.”

  I lifted the covers as an invitation, Mia sank beside me, and I inhaled her jasmine scent. “Are you watching Friends? This is the one where Ross and Rachel take a break.”