by Mj Fields
Casey nods as if she understands, but she so doesn’t. Nevertheless, that’s just another reason I love her. She has my back.
“Maybe Casey should take off for a few days, too; give you and your family some time with the kids.”
“Or maybe she can stay,” I disagree, trying not to sound snippy.
He doesn’t say shit; he just turns up the music.
Ugh, country.
I lean back in the comfy seat and close my eyes, wishing I could poke my eardrums out. Seriously, this freaking music...Ugh.
“I wanna be the kind of man she sees in her dreams. God, I wanna be your man, and I wanna be her man. God, I only hope that she still believes in the man I wanna be.”
I am happy. Well, not happy, but relieved that the next song isn’t so damn offensive to my ears.
The woman sings, “Little miss, do your best. Little miss, do your best. Little miss, be my guest. I’ll make more anytime it runs out. Little miss, you’ll go far. Little miss, hide your scars.”
I open my eyes to see Luke smirking in the rear view mirror. He nods toward the radio, and I shake my head and roll my eyes.
“Sometimes, you gotta lose until you win. It’s all right. It’s all right. It’ll be all right again.”
Luke used to be more of a metal guy, not this...this...sappy-ass music.
I look at Chance. “You’ll love pop and rock; I swear it.”
***
Two days later...
They are growing like crazy, healthy as any baby can be, and they deserve it. They so deserve it after going through so much.
I stand at the foot of their cribs, watching them sleep. Thankfully, Luke has slipped back into the jackass I thought I loved in the past—okay, I did love. And now after T and even after...him this past week, I have no idea what I was thinking back then. Well, I get it, but, oh my, how things have changed.
It has been almost eleven months from the day he wrecked me, and then T changed everything I thought I knew about love. Months later, my children proved to me that love is so much more than that of a man and a woman. It is so much more than I could ever imagine.
“Hey.”
I look up at Luke as he walks up to me with no cane, hands shoved deep in his pockets, and worry clear on his face.
“I’m not pissed, Luke. Just be nice.”
“Not trying to piss you off, Ava, but I’m not nice to people who don’t deserve nice.”
My head whips around, and I point at the door, conveying to him that I don’t want this conversation taking place in the babies’ room. He doesn’t move, so I do, knowing he will follow. But he doesn’t. He’s in there for quite a while before he comes out. By that point, I am pacing in front of the bedroom door, waiting for him.
He stalks toward me as if he hasn’t been limping for days. He looks angry. He looks...Oh, damn.
I hold my hand up to stop him, except he doesn’t stop, and my hand hits his chest. He reaches behind me and opens T and my bedroom door, stepping forward and forcing me backward into the room.
I am at a loss for words, which would make any mother who ever told their children “If you have nothing to say, don’t say anything at all” proud.
He pushes the door shut behind him and stares at me, face all lines and angles, his eyes blasting their bluest.
“Ava.” He shakes his head. “You trust me?”
“I guess,” I croak out.
“No, it’s a yes or no answer. You trust me or you don’t.”
“Are you having a...spell, or a—”
“Ava,” he growls. “Do you trust me?”
I take a deep breath, hoping somewhere in this room that seems to be getting smaller and smaller is my...sass.
“Fine, I’ll play. Yes, Luke Lane, I, Ava Links, trust—”
He captures the back of my neck with one hand, and places his other hand flat on my back, pulling me toward him. And his lips, I swear they bruise mine.
He plunges his tongue deep, deeper...Oh, damn. Damn you, Luke. Then he slides his hand up until it’s in my hair, and he turns my head, controlling the kiss.
When I am sure he has fucked my soul by way of our mouths and that I am going to die because I can hardly breathe, he pulls away. Only then do I realize I am against a wall and that my hands have found their spot, like it’s a habit, linked behind his neck.
“She can’t be here, Ava,” he whispers softly, pushing his forehead against mine.
“Okay,” I say without thinking, slowly opening my eyes.
“I’ll tell her now. She’s done.”
“Wait, what?” I gasp, releasing him.
“You can tell her, but you’ll do it with me in the room.”
I slam both hands against his chest. “Get, go, and no! She stays. You need to be out by five tomorrow morning.”
“Ava, you trust me. You said—”
“This is because Thomas trusted her. This is because you’re jealous—”
“I should kiss you to shut you up, but then I’ll end up fucking you, and you’ll think it’s because this was his and your room, and that’s not fucking so.”
“Don’t you—”
“That’s him, Ava, not me. She goes. She goes, or I’m staying.”
“You wouldn’t,” I gasp.
“No?” He crosses his arms over his chest, and I swear he flexes his...boy boobs, and it pisses me off.
“I will never forgive you if you do that to me,” I tell him, putting my hands on my hips.
“You will. It’ll just take a while.” His eyes dart from my eyes to my lips and back again.
“Stop looking at me like that!”
“Like what?” he asks, as if he’s not looking at me like...that.
“Like you want to fuck me.”
He smirks and shakes his head. “Oh, I want to, but you’ll have to beg first.”
“You have a better chance of seeing God.”
He looks at my boobs and sighs.
“Don’t look at those, either, Luke.”
He points. “But—”
“But nothing.” I slap his hand away.
He smirks. Then he holds back a laugh.
“Oh, ha, ha, ha,” I mock.
“Ava.” He points again.
“Oh, for God’s sake, they’re boobs, Luke, and you have never been a boob man.”
“But, Ava, they’re...leaking.”
I look down, mortified. I feel my face burn so bright the people across the river can probably see it.
“It’s—”
“Get out!” I snap. “Get. Out.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
He didn’t mean it. - R. Wright-Jessup
LUKE
It’s three in the morning, and I am sitting in one of the rocking chairs like I have been for a while now, holding Chance, my son.
Christ, how did I get so lucky? I sure as hell don’t deserve this, no more than I deserve Miss A being so...hospitable.
Fuck, she is going to be the one who does me in.
“God kept me alive so your mother could get her revenge on me for being such a...” I pause. “Not nice. For being not nice.”
He’s asleep, but I don’t want to put him down. I have to leave here in just a few hours to hide out so Lucas and Ava can spend some time together.
“Your grandfathers—both of them—are probably a bit disappointed in me. Well, one is. The other will be, but after that, after the initial shitstorm, it’s gonna be a little emotional. Your grandmother Jade, she’s going to go nuts. Don’t worry, though; it’s a short trip. I’ve put her there a million times. She won’t get lost, Chance; she knows the way. Then you will get to meet some more of the team. Your aunts, Riley and Lauren, are going to go insane over you and your sister. Your uncle Jackson, I’m gonna tell you a secret about him. He’s my hero. Best guy you’ll ever meet. And then Ryan...you are so lucky you’ll have him in your life.”
I huff. “Your mother could have screwed me with that, too, but she didn’t, because
she’s Ava. She’s Ava, and she may not be mine right now—hell, may never be again—but I’ve always been hers. Now I’m yours and Hope’s, too.
“I haven’t always made the best choices, Chance, and I don’t know what would have happened had I not been in that explosion, but I’m here to tell you—promise you—I will never let you down. None of you.” I feel a tear run down my face as I hold him tighter. “No one, and I mean no one, will make sure you’re safer than I will. It is my duty, and my privilege.”
After I lay him down, I pick up Hope. She is feeling better. The doctor talked Ava into giving her a small dose of Tylenol at bedtime so she can sleep, and here I am, taking a chance at waking her up.
I stand at the window with her snuggled into my chest. “Hey, little princess. I’m gonna take off for a few days, and I don’t know if you’ll notice, but I made you a promise, one I vow to keep, so don’t get upset with me, okay? My leaving is part of the plan to keep my promise.
“God, Hope, I wish you were mine. I feel like you are. I pray you see me as a father someday, and I will be on my knees, begging the Good Lord to make sure you don’t get your mind twisted like I got mine when I was younger.
“Ryan, he’s such a good father. Doesn’t matter that he isn’t mine by blood, and it doesn’t matter that you aren’t mine by blood, either. Your father...Well, you’re asleep and will not remember a word I’m saying ‘cause you’re too little, but he and I were not friends. I don’t know much about him, and the majority of what I do know makes me want to kill his ass, but he loved your mom better than I could. He would have raised Chance as his own, too, and he is part of you, so those are three things I can tell you about him that are real and true if you ever ask.” I kiss her head then lay her back down. Then I step back and look at them both. “Love you. Love you both.”
After that, I can’t stick around and chance seeing Ava. Woman drives me insane in every way possible.
***
I pull up to the motel just on the outskirts of town. It’s a shithole, but it’s the kind of place I need.
I see a white sedan and, although it’s still dark, the man inside is, without a doubt, one of mine.
I get out of my truck and see the white sedan door open. I nearly fall over when I see Trigger step out and stretch.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I ask, knowing damn well what he’s doing here.
“My team needs me. I’m all in.” He throws an arm over my shoulder and pats my back. “Got some time on my hands.” He holds up his left hand, and I shake my head. Trigger lost two fingers on that last explosion. “Plus, I needed to let you know how pissed off I am that you didn’t drag your shattered ass back in and find those fingers before you passed out.”
I can’t help laughing. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that, man.”
“Not as sorry as you will be when the old lady gets a hold of you. She much preferred the left-handed shocker to the right,” he says, laughing as he opens the motel room door.
“What a fucking mess,” I comment as I walk in behind him and toss my bag on one of the two double beds.
“Damn, are times that tough? This place is a shit hole,” he remarks.
“You see Raider?” I ask, ignoring his question.
“Not yet. We’ll have to have a beer when this is done. He’s at Miss A’s place, right?”
“Yeah, he’s there. Been a long damn time since he’s been able to play with us.”
“Glad you reached out to him.”
I nod. “Fucker has skill.”
“We all do. Don’t you ever forget it.”
After a couple hours sleep, my phone squawks. Both Trigger and I spring up, and I grab the laptop while he reads the message.
“Big Daddy has arrived, and I got the girl,” Trigger reads out loud.
I nod and point at the screen. “See them both.”
“Let the fun begin.” Trigger tosses me an ear piece, and I put it in.
We sit and watch as Raider sits across from the girl at the motel across town then unties her hands.
“Take the hood off if you want, darlin’,” he drawls.
She does, and then she flies out of her seat at him, arms swinging, yet she makes no contact. He has her arms behind her back, and then she’s on the floor, swearing at him like a sailor.
He says nothing, not a damn thing. He just sighs and waits until she calms down.
“You done throwing your fit, darlin’?”
“What do you want from me!” she screams.
“It’s simple, really.” He pulls her up and sets her ass back in the chair. “Just want to know what you know.”
“I know I’m going to make you pay, you fucker!”
He laughs as he sits across from her, threading his hands behind his neck and crossing one ankle in front of the other. “How you plan on doing that? And please, don’t leave out a detail. Make it sick and twisted. I kind of like it that way.”
Her face goes blank, and her eyes grow wide. She looks terrified.
“You ready to start talking, or can I show you just how sick and twisted I can be?”
Trigger snickers. “I love that son-of-a-bitch.”
“Shut the fuck up, would ya?” I snap at him.
“Still haven’t gotten laid, have you?” Trigger laughs.
I don’t answer.
All it takes is Raider opening his bag of tricks, and she starts talking. Everything we need, she gives us. I should feel good about it, but for some reason, I don’t.
“You done good, little darlin’,” Raider says with a wink. “I didn’t even have to hurt you.”
She covers her face and begins shaking.
He stands and pulls her up to a standing position, forcing her to look at him. “I’m gonna make sure you’re okay.”
She looks up at him, nodding frantically. “Please. Please don’t hurt me. I can’t—I won’t survive it, not again.”
His body stiffens, and he takes in a deep breath. “You want me to make it better now?”
She nods again. “Please.”
“All right, then. Let’s you and I get comfortable.” Then he turns around, diverting his eyes from the camera, and switches it off.
“What do you think is going down right now?” Trigger asks, standing up and grabbing his piece off the nightstand between the beds.
“As long as he gets her where she’s supposed to be tomorrow, I don’t wanna know. Don’t care.”
He shoves his gun in his waistband. “We doing this quick, or by the book?”
“Haven’t decided yet. Let’s see how cooperative he is first. I do know, if it’s him or us, it’s fucking him.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
He would never hurt me. - A. Gnuschke- Jones
AVA
The kids are a little clingy, which means I have to hold them on my lap in order for them to even allow Logan and Dad to be near them.
Dad is beside himself. I know what he’s thinking: If I hadn’t kept them here, they would know him. And yes, it hurts that I have done that to him, to them.
He’s moping while Logan is doing everything he can to get Hope and Chance to notice him. He’s making faces and dancing like a fool to Burning Souls music, which I seem to be able to listen to now without wanting to cry.
When the kids are down for a nap, Casey calls and asks for a few days off. She sounds horrible, so of course I give her as much time as she needs.
That will make Luke happy, I think to myself as I walk into the babies’ bedroom where Dad and Logan are rocking the two sleeping babies.
I feel bad that they have to be asleep to be held. Their pediatrician says it’s completely normal and that they will go through stages like this several times for the first couple years, and then again as teenagers. They are growing, changing, becoming people with personalities. It’s all so very beautiful.
I’m glad Luke isn’t here to see me calling the doctor. He may not have said anything, but when Hope had a fever, I could tell he thoug
ht I was a little crazy.
Logan and Dad cook dinner, and I pretend it is good. Thank God Tessa can cook, and Logan has the dining hall. Otherwise, they would both starve.
When everyone is in bed, I take a picture of the kids sleeping and send it to Luke with a message, thanking him for giving us this time. I also let him know that Casey isn’t here. I figured that would make him happy.
He doesn’t reply.
The next day is a little better. Dad and Logan are able to hold the babies as long as I am in eye shot.
Is it sick that I kind of love that they need me around? Like, I get some sort of invisible gold star to put on my imaginary motherhood crown because they seem to think I am the bomb.
I laugh at my own thought as Dad walks over and sits next to me.
“They sleep a lot more than you did,” he remarks.
I smile. “They’re growing.”
“They are,” he says, looking around.
I recognize that look. It’s a look that, although I rarely saw growing up, it is one you can’t ignore.
He stands up, walks to the windows, and looks out them, shoving one hand in his pocket and the other through his hair.
“What?” I ask
“Don’t ask,” Logan whispers. “Don’t. Ask.”
I ignore him, getting up and walking to the windows to stand next to my dad, repeating, “What?”
“Ava, I’m not that old that I didn’t hear your brother warn you not to ask. I suggest you heed that warning.”
“What?” I push.
After a long pause, he looks over at me. “Do you wanna build a snowman?”
“Do I, what?” I laugh.
He ignores me and turns around. “Logan, do you wanna build a snowman?”
“No, Dad, I really have no interest in building a—”
“Tough shit. Let’s build a fucking snowman.” He throws his hands in the air. “It’s Christmastime, and—”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, here we go,” Logan mumbles.
“Look at me,” Dad says as he pretty much walks in a circle. “I’m getting older; if I wanna build a fucking snowman with my kids so that my grand-kids can see the damn thing, and maybe, by the grace of God, end up liking me—”