by Devon Ashley
I could feel him staring at me as I rememorized the set. “I wasn’t sure what to do with those. Since you don’t have any out in the house, I thought you might want to use them.
“Why don’t you have any pictures of Joyce out there?”
I let out a deep breath. “It wasn’t intentional. Try explaining death to kid about to turn three. He didn’t understand why she was in that casket, or that she was still in it when it was buried in the ground.
“He was so upset when she wasn’t around anymore, asking more and more about where she was, when she was coming back, who she was with, that I finally decided to hide the pictures for a while. So I stuck them in a drawer and locked him out. With time he forgot to ask his questions. I never meant to keep them hidden this long. I suppose he’s old enough to explain death to now, huh?”
“He’s a smart kid. It’ll hurt him, but it’s going to hurt him eventually anyways. Might as well let him mourn now while he’s young and probably won’t remember later how much it hurt.”
I nodded absentmindedly. “You going to help me with this?”
He chuckled, a hint of uncomfortable thrown in.
“Too weird for you?”
His hand ruffled his hair as he pressed his smile. “Not too weird. Just weird. I’ve gone from having no kid at all to being a superhero in two days. I’m not sure if the things I’m doing are right or not.”
“Welcome to my world.” I kissed him lightly on the lips, allowing my mouth to linger a few seconds longer. “Just suck it up, outfielder.”
I grasped Shane’s hand in mine and pulled him into motion, carrying the picture of Jake and Joyce in my other. He was still awake in bed, the LED spotlight clipped to his bed frame brightly lighting up the Batman and Robin figures in his hands. Little toot must’ve turned it on after we left. I could tell he was really tired though, because his eyes were droopy and he wasn’t animating his toys any.
I sat on the edge of his bed and faced him, letting Shane fall back, probably leaning against the dresser or wall. I hadn’t really expected him to say anything, but I liked that he was here nonetheless.
“Hey, baby,” I said softly, brushing his hair behind his right ear. “Did you have fun with Shane today?”
A smile lazily grew and he murmured mmm-hmm.
“Good. So are you okay with Shane being the one to watch you from here on out?”
“He has to stay,” Jake answered. Pointing to himself, he added, “I’m training to be his sidekick.”
Chuckling, I asked, “Really?” He nodded enthusiastically and I turned to see Shane with his back against the wall, arm hitched atop the chest as he leaned into it, a smile just as big as Jake’s. Turning back, I said, “Well, then. I guess he does have to stay, huh?”
I inhaled and exhaled deeply, letting Jake come down from his high naturally. When he was calm again, I showed him the picture frame I had kept upside down on my lap. “Nana,” he whispered, looking at it with a saddened expression, breaking my heart. Even after all this time, he was still sensitive to Joyce. I tried my hardest to keep the tears from pushing through.
“Baby, do you understand why Nana isn’t here with us anymore?”
A quiet moment passed as he continued to stare at the photo. “Because she’s dead?”
“Yeah, she is. But do you know what that means?”
He thrust the corner of his mouth in alternating directions. “Mrs. Weatherly had a fish that was floating in the water. She said it was dead. She flushed it. Did Nana get flushed?”
“Uh, no baby. We don’t flush people, just fish. Nana got buried in the ground. Do you remember that day we saw her in that box at the cemetery?” He just nodded, and I said, “She’s still there baby. Buried in the dirt.”
“She’s not coming back, is she?” he softly asked, his eyes falling to the toys in his hands.
“No, baby. She’s not. She can’t. I’m sorry.”
“Why’s she dead?”
I combed my fingers through his hair, gently scratching his scalp. “She got sick. Sometimes when we get sick really badly, we don’t get better.”
He gasped and streams of tears fled from his eyes. I leaned forward the same time he reached out and we embraced. “I miss Nana,” he cried, and damn it all to hell, my tears couldn’t be held back any longer either. The bed depressed behind me, and Shane’s hand began massaging my back, slowly filling me back up with strength.
“Me too, baby. Me too.”
It took another ten minutes for Jake to calm down enough to settle back into bed again. I asked him if he was going to be okay and he nodded his head. I left the picture on his bedside table. “It’s okay to be sad, Jake. Nana was very special to us. But you know what? She’s always going to be with us. Because we carry her around with us every day. Right here,” I added, lightly poking his heart.
He tried to smile, and I knew that was the best I was going to get from him tonight. I twisted the knob to his light and laid his toys on the bedside table. “I love you, sweetie,” I murmured, kissing his forehead.
Shane came up and took my place, ruffling Jake’s hair into a scruffy mess. “See you in the morning, little man. Be brave. Superheroes always have to be brave. So do their sidekicks, okay?”
Jake nodded and gave him a better smile than he gave me. When we closed the bedroom door behind us, I let out a heavy breath right there in the hallway. Shane spun me and grabbed my shoulders to massage them, guiding me to our room. “How about Mom? Is she doing okay too?”
“I’m fine,” I said wearily. “Just seeing him cry like that…seeing that he was still hurting over her passing. It breaks my heart.”
Shane shut the bedroom door behind us and pressed against me, his forearms flush against the wall, trapping me within his embrace. I loved the feel of his body against mine, especially when he completely cut off the world from being able to invade. He kissed me once…twice. Again and again ever so softly, numbing me to my very core, making everything else disappear. Wrapping my arms around him, it was just me and him now and those delectable lips loving mine. His tongue took mine for a spin and I moaned my content.
What if he had never come back to Berryville? What if we had never reconnected? After the beating we both dished out, it was any wonder we got to this place at all. Just one week ago we were still fighting, both completely stubborn about who was right and who was wrong. How in the hell I had forgiven all that and trusted him not to fail me or my son, was beyond me. I truly had to love him to trust him so easily with Jake. And it made me smile as a beautiful warmth flooded my insides.
I loved him, and forever wanted to remain within his embrace. I only wished we hadn’t lost so much time, so many chances to love. I wanted to show him more and more how much he meant to me, wanted to increase the intensity of my kisses, but I knew I couldn’t right this moment. Not with Jake still awake. After having the death talk, I didn’t want to have to explain why Shane and I were wrestling one another in bed.
I gave Shane one last kiss before pushing against him. He followed my lead, but it was clear by the look on his face that he didn’t want to go. “We need to wait for Jake to fall asleep first,” I explained.
One of his eyebrows lifted, and I could just hear the silent you’ve got to be effing kidding me. I should’ve known by the twisted smile that he had no intention of obeying. In one swift motion he pulled his shirt over his head, balled it up and tossed it onto the chair. And damn if I didn’t like looking at him, his abs all firm and defined, not to mention the muscular curvature of his arms. It was still weird seeing him standing before me like that, half-naked, half-cocked. Just for me.
And it was completely evil that he was baiting me with that rock hard body.
My hands found their way to my hips, just as he asked with a not-so innocent voice, “What?”
“Here I was just thinking all these wonderful things about you and now you’re trying to strip down before we can have sex.”
His hands casually held
in the air, he explained, “I was hot.”
“It’s seventy degrees in here.”
His hands went to his cotton pants, thumbing the cinched band, preparing for a total strip down. Gawd, how I secretly wanted him to do it, but for some reason, the word stop came out of my mouth. At least I agreed with myself when I said, “That is so not fair.”
Neither was the way the left side of his mouth curled up, smiling wickedly as his eyes swept across my body. “You’re right. Your ogling is making me uncomfortable. You should remove your top to compensate.”
I bit into my lower lip and shook my head, my arms crossing across my chest to better cover up. “I am so not sleeping with you right now. My little boy is still awake.”
He shrugged lightly, his eager eyes penetrating mine. “Doesn’t mean you can’t get naked.”
He grabbed the remote and turned the television on to an action film before tossing it back on the dresser. Then he moved to lock the door. When that twisted smile came within feet of me, I held my hand out between us. “Not a chance. He’ll hear us.”
He still kept coming, so I began backing up. “Oh, you’d be surprised how quiet I can be when I’m determined.”
Next thing I knew his cotton pants were on the floor. Did I say he was half-cocked? Well, he was fully cocked now.
Damn, he knew how to distract me. My back hit the wall, and in less than two seconds his body was trapping me against it, his mouth sucking on my left earlobe. Gawd…the tingles this man could make with just a single bite. “Well, what if I like to scream and moan, huh?” Hell, I was practically moaning just as I said it.
“Oh, I know you do, but it’s called self-control. Now would be a great time for you to practice it.”
“Self-control?” I scoffed playfully. Sardonically, I added, “Yeah, because you’re such a pro at it right now.”
His mouth paused just long enough to reply, “I never suggested that I practice it.”
One of his hands slid down my body, gripping my waist, the other practically tugging on my hair as he roughly kissed his way down my jawline. I tilted my head back and moaned, my left hand finding its way to grasp his hair.
“What was I just saying?” I asked. Seriously. My mind had gone blank, nothing but the waves of mini-explosions speaking to me as they erupted within my core.
“Sorry, no idea.”
I was pretty sure it was a lie. But as he slipped my shirt over my head and pressed his warm skin against mine, I really didn’t care anymore.
An hour later, I was still enjoying the heat of his flesh as I lay half-sprawled across his chest, his fingertips mesmerizing me as they traveled back and forth across my back. His lungs took in long, deep breaths that lifted my head with each one. Sleepily, I mumbled, “Promise you’ll never leave me.”
“Na-uh,” he mumbled back. “Never going to happen.”
“You’re not even allowed to die on me. Not until we’re old and wrinkly and both ready to go.”
I tilted my chin and opened my eyes to catch him smile. “Deal,” he said tiredly. I snuggled back onto his chest, letting his soothing breaths rock me to sleep. I was almost out, completely content, when he asked, “What ever happened to that guy at Tulane?”
My eyes opened to the dimly lit room, his bedside lamp the only source of light still going. I swallowed to wet my throat, then said, “I don’t know.”
“Didn’t you press charges?”
Oh, boy. I knew where this was going. “No,” I said softly.
Yep, there it was. His chest jerked as it whipped out from underneath me. Landing on my side, I made myself comfortable for the lecture I knew was coming. “What?” he cried.
“Shane,” I mumbled, rubbing the sleep from my eyes with the base of my palm.
Hitched up on his side, he said, “Don’t Shane me. He tried to rape you. Why didn’t you report him?”
“Because, it sounds more traumatic than it really was. The moment I screamed, Becky’s brother came in and pulled him off me. Then he and three of his buddies beat the shit out of him right there in front of me. Trust me, that made me feel more vindication than having him arrested ever could.”
“So he didn’t really get punished then, did he?”
“I wouldn’t say that. One of the guys was a teammate of his. He called the head football coach who came and got him, took him to the field and made him run until he couldn’t puke anymore. The coach threatened to take away his scholarship, so I’m pretty sure that took care of his drinking problem.”
“That isn’t punishment for what he did to you. That’s just a slap on the wrist.”
I was groaning inside. “Shane, stop. I’ll admit in the moment it scared the shit out of me, okay? But it didn’t even last thirty seconds. All the guy got to do was cop a feel. Guys manage to get away with that on a crammed dance floor.”
He sighed and rolled his eyes. “It was a hell of a lot more than I got to do to you back then.”
I slammed my palm into his shoulder and he rocked back a bit. At least it was an attempt at humor. “Look, I had just turned eighteen so it was my decision. The coach made him apologize once he sobered up and I felt he really meant it. I just wanted to put it past me. The guy seemed just as horrified as I did that it happened.”
I reached over to play with his free hand, and his fingers soon joined the game. Meeting his eyes, I tried my hand at deflection, softly saying, “You know, I think if you had asked me back then, I would’ve left Brad to be with you.”
I wasn’t quite expecting the pained expression that saddened his face. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting out a long breath through his nose. Opening back up, he sort of smiled. “If you had told me that a week ago, I would’ve been glad that I never asked you then, because I knew how much that would’ve hurt him. But now… Now that I’ve seen firsthand what he’s turned into, I think a lot of this could’ve been avoided if I had just asked you to leave him. I probably would’ve been the one to get you pregnant, he would’ve been hurt, but he would’ve gotten his money and never looked back. And that dumbass never would’ve attacked you, committed a robbery or stolen my truck.”
“What do you think will happen to him?” I asked.
“Oh, he’s definitely going to jail, even if you or I don’t press charges. He still robbed a bar. He might be lucky enough to get probation or court-appointed therapy if it’s his first offense, but hell if I know what he’s done these past few years. Maybe he already has a record.”
“I feel like it’s sort of our fault. Like we should’ve protected him better or something.”
He captured my chin with his thumb and forefinger and looked hard into my eyes. “Hey. No. You and I were there for him all those years. You were right to cut him loose when you did. And I’ve had his back all my life, but you know what? I’m ready to let go too. I’m not going to let him ruin our lives because he can’t get a grip on his. You got the best part of him you were ever going to get, and it’s that little guy down the hall. Okay?”
I nodded, and he held me in his hand until his lips reached mine. My naked thigh instinctively slid over his as the kiss deepened. My hands slid to his back as he rolled over me, trapping me atop the sheet. And I loved it. Loved the feel of his skin pressed into mine, gently rocking back and forth, my legs tightly wrapped around his hips. Loved how I felt so secure inside his arms, like he was an impenetrable wall that would never allow anything to pass, never allow anything to hurt me again.
And when he said that four letter word and how he’d never leave my side again, I’d never felt so at peace.
It was well after two when I woke up. After a few seconds of silence, I heard it – crying. Jake must’ve had a nightmare, and after discussing Joyce’s death tonight, it didn’t really surprise me. But I knew if I didn’t get in there, his cries would only get louder. Smoothly extracting myself from Shane’s hold, I threw on the first thing I could find in the darkness – his t-shirt – and pulled a fresh pair of underwear on. I mome
ntarily paused to inhale a deep breath from the material covering me up, breathing in the scent of everything Shane, and smiled his way before unlocking the door and slipping out into the hallway.
I should’ve known something was wrong right then. Jake had never left his room at night except to come running to mine. Granted mine was locked, but he would’ve banged on the door to come in, not gone to the living room to cry by himself. I peeked into his room as I passed, his favorite plush blanket that depicted Superman on the floor. It was something he always clung to, had a death grip on the nights he woke up crying. I quickened my pace and called out his name, my heart going boom-boom-boom in my chest. The faint Mommy he replied was all I needed to rush those last few steps, but my feet skidded across the tile when I turned the corner and saw Brad standing beside my terrified son. He had one hand wrapped around his little chest and a gleaming knife dangling from the hand he still held at his side.
Jake was mostly crying silently. Even a little four-year-old was smart enough to stay as quiet as possible – that or it was due to utter fear. When my eyes locked onto his flooded ones, pricks began to sting my own, threatening the same fate. I tightened my jaw and fought them, determined to show him that it was okay, that he would be okay. Just let Mommy handle it.
Forcing my eyes to abandon his helpless ones was probably the hardest thing I’d ever had to do, and I found my hands fisting, my breaths deepening, air pushing through my nose with such ferocity I put a bull to shame. I don’t know what came over me. I felt completely feral inside, like every fiber of my being wanted to shred Brad to death for threatening my son like that. It didn’t matter that I once loved him. It didn’t matter that he was Jake’s father. It didn’t matter that he was probably stoned or drunk off his ass, not even realizing how very wrong this was on so many fucking levels. He was my son, and that dipshit fucking had the nerve to take him from his bed, to make him cry, to threaten his life.
Surprising myself, I managed to calm my voice enough to ask, “Brad, what are you doing?” taking what I hoped were small enough steps to not seem threatening. His body fought the poison so hard his skin and hair were matted with sweat. His knife rose to point at me, jerking forward with each word, as if he truly hoped to slash me. “I want my fucking money.”