by Allie Kay
A thin, red-haired man with the red cheeks of someone who imbibed a bit too often settled onto the empty seat. He looked vaguely familiar. His hand shook with the proof it had been too long since his last fix as he slid a credit card across to me and said, “Start me a fucking tab.”
Picking up the card, I glanced down at the name. Richard Parks.
My eyes darted up to his face. I pictured him with a big old straw hat. Fucking hell. Joy’s ex just sat down across my bar from me.
I hardened my gaze and gave him a once-over. Not quite the monster I’d expected from Joy and Mateo’s stories. Slim build, weak chin, nothing I couldn’t handle if it came to it. He didn’t look like the mean bastard he truly was in the privacy of his own home. I’d seen the evidence though, I knew the truth.
“Figured out who I am then, did you?” He laughed and slapped his hand down on the bar. Those very hands had slapped both Joy and her son, with more force than he’d inflicted on that hardwood. “Gimme some damn tequila. You fucking bastard, surprised to see you here. Figured you would be balls deep in my whore of a wife by this time of night.”
My fists clenched and I stepped right in front of him, the edge of the bar digging into my stomach as I leaned close. I wanted to make damn sure he heard me when I spoke. “You lost the right to call her your wife.”
“Ah, but the government still says she’s mine. And nothing you can say will change that. Does it bother you?” He smirked at me, tapping a finger up and down. “Knowing that the woman you’re chasing belongs to another man has to rub. Does knowing I’ve fucked her in every position imaginable, willing and unwilling, get your dick hard? She’s a slutty piece of ass, that wife of mine.”
“Knock it off,” I snapped at him. “This is a place of business. Keep your mouth shut. I don’t want to hear another word about Joy from you.”
“Oohhh, touchy touchy.” He laughed, a maniacal creepy sound that carried over the pop beat thumping through the club. “I can see it rubs you the other way. Can’t get it up knowing she was mine, eh?”
What the hell had Joy ever seen in this creep?
“Now you listen here—”
Sean stepped up beside me, interrupting me before I could finish that thought out loud. “What’s the issue?”
“You the manager here?” Ricky asked, his voice so syrupy sweet I hoped he drowned in it.
Sean nodded.
“This…” Ricky trailed off and waved a hand at me before continuing, “bartender, for lack of a better word, is refusing me the tequila I ordered. Is that how you allow your employees to treat paying customers?” He looked at me with this clear sense of victory in his shit green eyes.
“You son of a bitch,” I growled out.
Sean lay a hand on my shoulder and when I looked at him, he raised an eyebrow at me.
“He’s the bastard that Joy left. The one that beat her and her kid.”
Sean narrowed his eyes at Ricky. “Here at Garden we reserve the right to refuse service to anyone we fucking choose. I stand with Jack. Get the fuck off my stool and out of my bar.” He waved one of the bouncers over. “Wyatt, escort this asshat out of my building and make sure he doesn’t come back inside this evening.”
“You can’t throw me out over stories that whore has told. She’s a pathological liar who ran off with my kid,” Ricky argued. “I’m not causing trouble. I just want some damn tequila. Your bartender’s the one who has a stick up his ass over this.”
I reached for him and found myself moved back three feet instead of having him within my grasp. Sean had his giant grip twisted up in my t-shirt, holding me at arm’s length and preventing me from bashing that fucker’s head in liked I’d wanted to.
“Sean, let me go,” I ground out through clenched teeth. One thing I hated about Sean was his size. I was hardly tiny, but Sean had a good three inches and fifty pounds on me.
“Not just yet. If you wanna whoop his ass, you go right ahead, but not on my dime and not on my property.” He didn’t relax his grip in the slightest.
“I can hold my own,” Ricky prodded from across the bar. “But, you go right ahead and keep him on hold for a bit. I’ll go. I’m going to maybe slip over and see that wife of mine. Maybe recreate the romance of the night we conceived that brat of ours. He’s old enough now to be a big brother.”
I jerked against Sean’s hold. “Stay away from her.”
“Nah, but thanks for the suggestion.”
Wyatt laid a hand on Ricky’s shoulder and tried to steer him away from the bar. “Come on, don’t make this a scene.”
Ricky allowed Wyatt to direct him out of the bar, but stopped at the door and saluted me.
Sean waited a few more seconds before he let me loose. “You good now?”
“I need to go home.”
“Now? It’s busy as fuck. Look around you, we’re pushing fire code.” He waved a hand out toward the crowded dance floor. “I need you.”
“He made her life a fucking hell for years. He beat her, raped her, and when he started on the kid, she ran. I can’t let him hurt her again. And I’m leaving, whether you let me or not. If I have to find a new job, I will.”
“Go.”
I was out of the bar before he could change his mind. I sped home, relaxing when I saw no sign of Ricky in the neighborhood.
Joy and Mateo’s laughter filtered through the walls to the yard. I couldn’t catch anything but the occasional loud burst of laughter and shriek of happiness.
I went inside and listened to the happy sounds while I watched the street and the driveway from behind the blinds. I would stay up all night if I had to, just to make sure she was safe.
I wouldn’t let my house become the setting of hellish memories. Not on my watch.
22
Joy
Monday morning, Talia knocked on my door bright and early. Jack and Sean were walking around the house when I let her in.
“Are you ready?” She smiled at me, pulling me close for a quick hug. “I’ll be with you the whole time,” she whispered in my ear.
I nodded, afraid to open my mouth to speak in case a sob came out.
Jack and Sean came in joking around, big smiles on both their faces. Jack’s smile instantly soothed me. I wished I could take him to the group with me, but given that I was meeting a group of battered women that probably wouldn’t be the best decision.
Mateo skidded into the kitchen in his underwear and ran out with an embarrassed ‘meep’. He clearly hadn’t been expecting to see a kitchen full of people.
Sean and Jack laughed until tears ran down their faces. I had to poke Jack to get him to stop. He swiped his eyes to wipe the tears away. “Sorry, I’m sorry, but the look on his face…”
“Hush, you’ll hurt his feelings.”
That seemed to sober him. “I wouldn’t want to do that.”
“Good.” I left the room to make sure that Mateo had found some clothes to put on before I left.
“Hey, sweetie, do you need any help?” I asked as I tapped on his door. “I’m going to go out with Talia for just a short time and Mr. Jack and Mr. Sean are going to watch you, okay?”
Mateo was pulling a sweater over his head. His voice was muffled at first by the thick knit. “Mr. Jack told me. We are going to play soccer in the backyard again.”
“So, you are okay with me going?” I finger-combed his hair down.
“Yup.” He grinned up at me. “Us men are gonna do sports and man stuffs.”
He skipped out of the room and straight into Jack’s arms.
“Hey, buddy!” Jack tossed him in the air. “You ready for some time with just the guys?”
“Yes!” Mateo squealed happily.
“Joy, we should go if we are going to make it there on time,” Talia said with her hand on the door.
I stepped close to Jack so that I could kiss Mateo goodbye.
“Where’s my goodbye kiss?” Jack teased. I pressed my lips to his beard-roughened cheek. “Oh, come on, you can do
better than that!” He wrapped a strong arm around my waist and pulled me closer, capturing my lips with his.
Mateo giggled as he was smooshed between me and Jack. “More kissing. Ewww!”
“I don’t like being late,” Talia’s voice carried over all the male laughter. “Come on, he’ll be here for you to kiss when we get back.”
I eased away from Jack, heat burning my face. “I’ll see you later,” I whispered to him. I moved quickly to the door.
We were halfway across town when Talia finally spoke again. “So, I see things are going well with you and Jack.”
A giggle escaped me, despite my circumstances. “I shouldn’t let anything happen, but I seem powerless to stop it.”
She glanced over at me, eyes concerned. “Powerless? Jack’s not…”
“Oh, God no!” I shook my head vigorously. “He’s your friend! How could you think such a thing of him? He’s perfect. I just meant I can’t resist him.”
“Okay, good. Because I was about to have to kick his ass.”
I laughed at the thought of tiny pregnant Talia taking on a man Jack’s size.
“Okay, so, maybe I might have to have my husband do it. But never you mind that. I could make it happen if the need should arise.”
There was a steel in her voice that made me wonder how she’d let any man abuse her. But maybe it was Sean’s love bolstering her inner strength. She had a confidence to her now that I envied.
I fell silent as Talia pulled up in front of the Garden Falls Women’s Shelter. It’s chipping paint and time worn exterior was a safe haven to many women desperate to escape a situation like mine.
Talia led the way inside and into a crowded sitting room filled with women from late teens to early sixties. A few had bruises in various shades of healing. I recognized Amanda. She was huddled in the corner with a striking blonde woman who looked too fancy for this small town.
Amanda glanced at her watch. “Okay, let’s go ahead and get things started, shall we?”
“I’ll go first,” Talia volunteered. “I see more than a few new faces around here. If you ladies stick around, you’ll get to know me. My name is Talia and I’ve been in your shoes. I hid bruises beneath long sleeved shirts and makeup. My ex… well, he liked to gaslight me. Everything was my fault, nothing was ever his fault.”
Heads around the room nodded in commiseration.
“Been there,” a brunette with her left arm in a sling said quietly. “I’m Meghan. How he twisted my arm behind my back until it’s basically useless was my fault. I shouldn’t have gave him a migraine by walking so loudly in my heels—that he insisted I wear all the time so I would look more feminine.”
“Mine made me wear short skirts and dresses all the time for easier access whenever he was ready to get some,” one of the girls who barely looked legal said as she wrapped her arms around herself. She was dressed very modestly today with all but her face and hands covered in fabric. “And he wanted some a lot.” She shuddered in remembered revulsion.
The striking blonde next to Amanda spoke next. “I’m Elizabeth. I’ve been lucky that I’ve never had anyone hurt me physically. But I lived with a domineering man who wouldn’t let me have any opinion.”
“My…” I swallowed down a lump in my throat the size of the shelter. “My husband did a lot of that too. My opinion didn’t matter to him at all. He told me I was an unfit mother and that if I left him he’d take our son. We lived in a small town and he played golf with the judge. He used our son against me.”
“How?” an older woman in a bright pink sweater asked.
Tears filled my eyes as I looked around the room. “He held a gun to our son’s head more than once to force me to give him a blow job. He’d beat my son if I bought the wrong brand of pasta. He broke Mateo’s arm because he asked to go to an Easter egg hunt.” I swiped at the hot tears pouring down my face and Talia shoved a tissue in my hand. “He was only three. He didn’t deserve that.”
“That’s the thing…” Amanda started, pausing until all eyes were on her. “None of you deserved what you went through. No one deserves abuse.”
A chorus of voices chimed in their agreements.
The women continued sharing stories, but the tone changed from despair to one of hope. Despite the hell we’d all been through, there was deep underlying faith that things would be better in the future. Talia and a couple others still came to the group even though they’d moved on from the pain. They were the beacons of light for the few still in the darkness who’d yet to find their way out.
She was right to make me come.
23
Joy
“You know, I think you may actually sleep less than I do,” I said to the man sitting on my porch.
Jack stretched, his movements pulling his long-sleeved t-shirt tight across his chest. The slightest sliver of bronze skin appeared between the t-shirt and his jeans. “Did I wake you?”
I licked my parched lips, still staring at that coppery slice of abdominal perfection. “Nah. I’m a pretty early riser. Habit…”
Ricky had always expected me to be up early enough to have a hot breakfast on the table before he left for work. After years of rising at four, the habit stuck. My internal alarm seemed to go off at four a.m. no matter what.
He yawned. “I couldn’t sleep. I gave up about twenty minutes ago.”
“Coffee? I have some brewing.”
“Yeah.” He rose and stepped up to me, wrapping one arm around my waist. “Good morning, by the way.”
“Good morning.” My heart fluttered at his touch.
He kissed me then, his lips rocking gently over mine. Before I could really respond, he released his hold on me. “Very good morning,” he murmured.
Taking his hand, I pulled him into the kitchen and poured him a cup of coffee. “Creamer?” I asked, getting the flavored creamer from the fridge.
“Nah.” He took the steaming cup and inhaled the aroma wafting off the surface. “I like it black, like my soul.”
I shook my head at him. “Your soul is far from black.” I added a little of the creamer to my own cup.
“I see you like yours sweetened.”
“I like my coffee like you.” I ran a hand through the mop of messy curls on my head. I should have maybe run a comb through my hair before I flirted.
He raised an eyebrow.
“Strong, but sweet.”
Grinning, he set his cup down and took mine from my hands. “You think I’m sweet?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Good. I got you fooled.” He pulled me close. “You seem happy today. That meeting you went to, it helped?”
“Oddly, it did.” I looked away. “Meeting people who understood, it really did help.”
“I get that. I felt the same way when I met Sean. When I go to an AA meeting…” He brushed a lock of hair out of my face. “You should go again.”
“I think I will.”
“Good.” He leaned in, his lips near my ear. “You look so beautiful this morning.”
His lips covered mine.
My mind swirled, emotions spinning like the little tops Mateo loved to play with. Twirling, arms out wide, and dizzy, hope wrapped around my soul and soothed the ragged edges Ricky had left behind.
His hand curved around my hip and pulled me closer. I sighed and he deepened the kiss, his tongue slipping between my lips and tangling around mine.
In some far pit in my brain, I knew I should push him away. Put the brakes on until my divorce was final. Yet when he touched me, that was the furthest thing from my mind.
Society might be negative.
Ricky might cause issues.
But in this moment, wrapped in his arms, I couldn’t feel this was a mistake. I’d never regret the time I spent in his arms.
“Oh Em Gee. Do you two have to kiss all the time?”
We broke apart laughing.
Jack swooped Mateo up into his arms. “We don’t kiss all the time.”
“Yeah huh. You have too been kissing all the time.” Mateo rubbed his eyes sleepily. “It’s okay though.” He lay his little head on Jack’s shoulder. “Mr. Jack, I wish you were my mama’s marry.”
“Her what?” Jack asked, his forehead wrinkled. He looked adorable when he was confused.
“You know, her marry. You and her be married and not her and my daddy.” He patted Jack’s cheek.
“Her husband?” Jack prompted.
“Yeah, that.” Mateo smiled shyly at him. “Then you could be my daddy.”
My breath caught. My eyes met Jack’s and I could feel the heat of embarrassment burning up my throat and into my cheeks.
“Buddy,” Jack whispered, hugging Mateo close. “I’m so … touched … that you like me that much.” His voice quivered a bit. “But we can’t rush things like marriage, okay? Your mama and I are still getting to know each other and not quite ready to be talking about getting married.”
Mateo narrowed his eyes at Jack, considering his words. “Okay, but when you two do marry, I get to be there and I wanna be the flower boy.”
“Honey, it’s usually a flower girl.” I finally found my voice again.
“Oh, I know that, Mama. But I like flowers too. And Mr. Jack said that girls and boys can both do anything they wanna do so I wanna be the flower boy.”
I giggled. “Does Mr. Jack have some ‘splaining to do?”
Jack grinned. “To be fair, we were talking about sports. But if the kid wants to be a flower boy, let him be a flower boy.” He lifted my hand and pressed his lips to my palm. “One day…”
Selfishly, I allowed myself to hope. I played out the wedding in my mind. It would be a simple affair. No big fancy dresses with trains, no tuxedos. Just me in a simple dress, with my guys in matching suits. Mateo would be adorable as our flower boy.
I had never been a dreamer. More of a realist, I’d always been the practical one. But with Jack, I found myself daydreaming of a potential future filled with light and love, giggles and happiness. And I even dared to hope that one day those dreams would come true.