by Bowie, Emily
Her head twitches, moving the long strand of hair away from her face. Her mouth opens for nothing to come out. Closing her eyes, she breathes deeply before talking once again.
She opens her eyes from obviously giving herself a pep talk and proceeds to stab my heart. “You have a son.”
I stare at her in confusion. Her sentence is on repeat in my head, knowing I have not heard correctly.
“I have a son,” I parrot back at her.
CHAPTER 16
“You need to understand I couldn’t tell anyone, not even you.” I can feel a tear fall down my cheek, and I wipe it away with the palm of my hand. The rest of my skin heats like my ankle. I feel like the room is closing in on me with a ring of fire. Time stands still, the room sounds growing louder, swirling around me, making my head spin.
Brax’s confused face guts me, because I know he never suspected. He thought I could never do something like this to him. I used to think I was that person once too.
“The boy at the church?” His voice is so calm, unwavering in his question.
I can’t hold in my sob that leaks out as I try to push out the answer “yes,” my tears taking over my face.
I watch his face twist as realization hits. His once bright and carefree eyes turn murky with anger. The anger I know I deserve wholeheartedly.
“What’s his name?” His whole exterior shakes, his fingers crunching under his palm repeatedly. He has every right to throw me out of his house and hate me. Part of me hopes he does that. I have felt so guilty over this; it’s been eating at me slowly. Then I feel guilty for thinking that, because I did it to keep both of them safe. It’s a catch-22 I can’t get out of.
“Madden.” His name shakes in my throat. “I’m so sorry.” I can’t stop apologizing. “I’m sorry. I’m so incredibly sorry.” My hands go to touch him, willing to do anything to make him understand. I had no other choice. I was scared, and I wanted to protect the man I loved the only way I knew how.
His face is rigid and so tense I’m able to see the muscles beneath. His once loving eyes bore holes into me, like I’m some dirty piece of garbage he’s found in his house. Instantly, that heat I felt freezes, my veins going cold. I hurt him in a way no one deserves. I uprooted his life, and I hate it.
Finally, he rips his eyes off me and begins to pace in the little area between the counter and fridge and stove. His hand lifts his cap as the other runs through his hair. He does this motion repeatedly before twisting his hat in his fingers, scrunching and pulling at the fabric, trying to untwist it like the firestorm brewing inside him. Each time he twists and the hat stays in one piece, his movements become more aggravated as he mumbles what sounds like hatred at his once loved cap. When he obviously can’t rip it apart, I watch as he throws it across the room in frustration. His foot scuffs the floor, moving him in a circle with the throw.
“I thought it was for the best.” My voice is barely audible as I sob for forgiveness. The excuse sounds weak even to my own ears, but it’s the truth, even if he can’t understand it. He goes to stomp on his hat. I would be lying if said I wasn’t nervous and a little scared right now, never having seen Brax so upset. I begin to shuffle my weight uncomfortably, considering if I should tiptoe out of the house. I hiccup from trying to stop crying, a few breaking free as I continue to wipe my tears away.
When I start to shuffle myself to the edge of the counter, he looks at me. “You thought it was for the best?” He steps back like I pushed him. I have never seen this side of Brax before, and I hate that I have put this anger in him. “For who? All you thought about was yourself!” he yells, stomping toward me, his kitchen shaking with each step. Standing two feet from me, he points his finger at my chest. Taking a deep breath, he tries to calm himself. “You refuse to let people in. I could have been there for you.” He taps at his chest, his voice thick with emotion. Then, like he can’t look at me, he turns his head, shaking it.
I sit there frozen, not knowing how to respond. The second that passes feels more like a lifetime. My heart pounds with grief, hating every second of this.
When he does speak again, he looks at me with disgust. “You stole that chance from me, along with everything else.”
“I know!” I cry out, wishing he would yell at me again. I deserve his yelling, and I hate he has enough control to try to talk calmly to me. It makes everything I’m feel perpetuate itself all over again.
“You don’t know. You sit up in your ivory tower, moving the people in your life around to your will. Even your bodyguard chooses to ruin his life to take up a new one that is still attached to you. That’s not normal.”
He opens a drawer beside me then shoves it closed, the sudden movement and continued anger making me jump. Gripping his hair, he turns to walk away, yelling in frustration and kicking at the air. Each of his back muscles ripples under the strain his outrage has placed his body under.
“Does he think that bodyguard is his father?” he seethes as he begins to fire off questions at me.
Other than a shake of the head, I don’t dare move. I stay rooted on his counter as I trail each of his movements with my eyes. He walks to his back patio door, placing his hands on the glass and looking into the trees.
“What last name did you give him?”
“Yours. Steele.” He turns to look at me, his eyes growing big not expecting my answer before his hand slips over his face.
“I built this house for us. I had planned on putting a sandbox and play structure out there for our children. I tried to build a future with you.”
A knife twists deeper in my heart. I wanted all those things with him too. My hand reaches into my back pocket, pulling out a picture I planned to give him. The picture shakes as I hold it out. “Here is his picture.”
He doesn’t turn right away. Instead, he places his forehead on the glass with a thunk sound from his force.
When he turns around, I see his eyes are now red brimmed. It shakes me to my core. I knew this would be hard, I never expected the emotional energy it would drain from us. I never thought the truth would feel this shitty.
I hold my hand out farther, wanting him to accept his son. A new nervousness worms its way into me. He takes a step then crosses his arms—evaluating me, the situation, or his outlook, I’m not sure.
“Take it,” I plead. He just needs to take one look at the picture, and he will fall in love with the boy I love so much.
His lips twist as he considers my request before his heavy feet carry him forward. He rips the picture from my hand, bringing it up for a better look.
“Why are you here?” He looks skeptical of me, clearly not trusting me.
My heart is pounding so hard I’m sure my ribs will be bruised before I leave here today.
“Because I never thought I’d have the chance to see you again.”
When I don’t think he is going to speak, I begin to squirm, knowing I have overstayed my welcome. I feel like I answered his last question wrong, but it was honest. I wish it had a more romantic twist to it all.
Seeing him react to everything is completely bittersweet. After all this time, I get to tell him the truth. Years ago, this would’ve been set on a happier stage. But then that bitterness seeps in, knowing I kept all this from him, kept the future we wanted from us.
“He has my eyes.” He’s not speaking to me, rather the picture he holds in front of him. His fingers lightly touch the small square photograph. “Kellen had crazy hair like this when he was little.” He’s referring to the thick wavy brown hair that seems untamed. Seeing the awe on his face loosens the knot twisting in my heart. He may accept Madden. He stands there going over the picture like a lawyer would a legal document before he places it into his back pocket.
I have done what I came here to do, having placed the ball into his court now. It’s up to him what he would like to happen next. Needing to escape this house riddled with what ifs, I hop off the ledge, the solid floor shooting pain up my ankle. My foot gives way, unable to ta
ke my weight, and I buckle into the counter for support. I grunt out in discomfort and my lapse in judgment.
“You’re not leaving,” he states like it’s final, but he’s already at the door, trying to get out of here as fast as he can. Didn’t take him long to decide he had to go. I remind myself I need to give him the benefit of a doubt. I have had years to process everything; he has had mere minutes. Rome wasn’t built in a day, I repeat—my mantra for life in general.
“I have chores I need to finish. You will stay here till you can drive on that foot.”
The pain shooting up my leg has my argument dying in my head. Without warning, he strides toward me again, picks me up, and causes me to yelp in surprise as he tosses me onto the couch in front of a massive TV that takes up almost his complete wall.
“I’ll stop by again in an hour to see if you need help with anything.” He turns to walk out the door. Just as he reaches the handle, he turns once again, pointing his finger at me. “Don’t you dare leave. I need more answers when I get back. Starting with, what’s your plan now?”
CHAPTER 17
A string of curse words explodes as soon as I slam my front door closed. I stomp toward the field to finish the job with Dolly. I look over the land I’ve worked and taken over from my father. In the last five years, I’ve thrown myself into ranching. I worked till my fingers blistered and bled. I took this ranch to the next level, slowly gaining more land. With each new parcel, I gained more herd, slowly paying off part of the expenditure. Now, I finally have a chance to be one of the top ten largest ranches in Texas. My fingertips are almost within reach of the success I have worked so hard for. For me to be this close, and for Raya to come back into my life, it must mean something. What, I’m not sure yet. There has to be a bigger plan; otherwise, why bring her back to me at all.
This land was all I had after I thought Raya died. I never thought I’d marry, have children. I was finally happy with my status quo.
This town once had a saying called the “Brax curse.” Anyone who ever dealt with a little crazy behavior from the opposite sex would be warned about this town’s Brax curse. They used my love life to fuel their own classification levels on breakups, so much so, it wasn’t a real breakup if it didn’t escalate to the Brax curse. Then slowly, that all became old news; it was no longer popular to be told you had a Brax curse. People began to notice our family’s success, my success. I became known as someone who knew something. People came to me for advice. I can’t help but think maybe this town was right and I did evoke a curse. And it’s hitting me again.
By the time I reach the fence, I can feel sweat on my forehead. Propping one foot on the low wooden post, I pull the picture of my son in front of me. He is one hundred percent Steele lineage. Those eyes of his look like they can see right through me. He has the cutest round face I have ever seen, taking after his mother. I know deep in my heart this little boy is not the curse they talk about.
Madden. I roll his name around in my head. It’s a good, strong name. Madden Steele. I like the ring to it. I can’t believe I missed that her kid was mine. He must be. I start to wonder how old he is. Well shit, I don’t even know his birthday.
I look up at the field and the trees lining our property at this location, and for the first time ever, I think about the legacy I will be able to pass on to my own family. Never once have I had this thought before.
When I thought Raya died, my heart and every dream I had for a family with her—only ever her—disappeared along with her. I’ve never had any spark with another woman go beyond the physical.
And now she’s back, with my son.
They won’t be leaving again. I’ve lost too much.
Placing the picture back into my back pocket, I open the gate to finish the job I came to do. When Dolly sees me, this time she just lies down. She knows I’m here to do business. Picking up the lead rope that was left on her, I tug her to get up. She neighs in protest but slowly gets up.
Heading into the barn, I tie Dolly to a post before needing to clean her feet. I place a stool just behind the first foot, bringing it up. Using my hoof pick, I chip away at the debris that has settled, brushing off her foot with the hoof brush. I do this one foot at a time. Each scrape has me picking Raya apart for her actions. Instead of calming me down, it rattles me up again.
“You pick at that any harder and we’re going to have to re-shoe her.” Kellen breaks my thoughts, and I grunt out a response. I’m not in a mood for a heart to heart. He doesn’t like when I give him advice, so there’s no reason for him to grace me with any of his wisdom.
My silence doesn’t deter my brother. “Which one is it? Troubles in paradise, or did one of your deals that will bring fortune to our family disappear?”
I roll my eyes at his partial mocking. No one in my family wants to better themselves. I just don’t understand how they’re happy, when I know we could be so much more.
“So Sloan ran to you tattling about seeing Raya?” I grumble as I begin to move myself to the next foot.
“Naw, it was Ma who saw you carry her into your house. Must say, I’m shocked to see you in here when you could be in there.”
I run my tongue over my teeth, hating how everyone wants to be in my business.
“What can I say? I needed some air.” Bending my head down, I continue with my job, hoping he will disappear.
“Are you having erectile difficulties from it not being used?” His conclusion has me choking on my spit as my hand slips, dropping Dolly’s foot suddenly. The horse rears; my whole body arches within a millisecond, making me fall off my stool as I try to stay out of the way. The hardwood floor digs deep into me, the stool landing sideways on top of my leg.
“What the fuck, man?” I holler in frustration. Lifting my head, I see he stands relaxed, looking at me with zero humor on his face.
“I’ve heard it’s a real son of a bitch,” he continues on like this is a regular conversation, one that I’m all so happy to be part of. Only now, I can see the corner of his lips twitch, wanting to spread across his smug face. “I would suggest seeing a doctor before she leaves.”
Standing up, I brush myself off. “My cock works perfectly fine, thank you.” My eyes are wide, my nose flares, and my body recoils at the ridiculousness of this conversation. If Kellen was hoping for a reaction, he’s getting one.
“I’m trying to save Ma from hearing how good I fuck,” I retort, staring him down and seeing how far he wants to take this.
“Then it must be something about your newest deal adventure.” He averts his attention to the saddles we have hanging on the wall, looking at them like they’re something he’s never seen before.
“How is it that this whole town takes me seriously, while my family can’t seem to do that?” I go to Dolly, patting the soft hair between her eyes to her nose, trying to get her to calm down before I start again. I keep my back to Kellen, stepping backward to highjack a carrot I already placed onto the bench for her for later.
“Whatever you’re stewing about, just get it off your chest. You’ll thank me, trust me.”
His words poke at me, making my spine twist that he thinks he knows better than me. No one knows how this feels, because they have never gone through it.
“Why don’t you go get me one of your therapy animals, and we can talk through them?” I mock his business, hoping to show him how it feels.
He just cocks an eyebrow at me, looking more amused than anything. Clearly, he doesn’t plan to leave till he can go inside and gossip with Ma like a little girl.
“You just can’t forgive me, can you?” he asks slowly, frustrated that I still refuse to talk about the night ten years ago when everyone thought he killed my girlfriend. I can’t bring myself to say it out loud, thinking I’ll jinx them if I do. He crosses his arms, looking at me. “It wasn’t my secret to tell. You know that, right?”
“Ya, I do. That’s why I just can’t talk about it.”
We share a look of understanding for the
first time in years. “Your girl is here. Win her back.”
“This has nothing to do with that. Raya has a kid.” Finally, I allow those words to be heard.
He whistles with a slow headshake. I’ve clearly caught him off guard.
When he stays quiet, I continue, “The kid is mine.” I blow out air through my closed lips, making a slight sound.
Now it’s Kellen’s turn to have his mouth gape. “I don’t know what to say,” my brother tells me, looking dumbfounded. “So why has she turned up now, after all these years? What was with the papers saying she died?”
I place my hands on top of my head. “The whole situation is fucked up. She’s hiding from her father. I’m pretty sure she only came here because I saw her at Rhett’s concert.”
“It’s a little suspicious, don’t you think? You ‘accidentally’ ran into each other at our brother’s concert?” He uses finger quotes. “Does she want money?” he asks. He doesn’t give me any time to answer as he continues saying everything that comes to his mind. “It would make sense. She ran out of money, finds out you’re doing well for yourself, so she creates a moment for you to see her again.”
“She has a ton of money. You should have seen her house,” I dismiss his idea.
“Had,” he points out, eyeing me like he knows more than I do.
I scratch at the back of my head, my nerves making a habit of the action. I feel like I could make myself go prematurely bald with the amount I’ve been pulling at it. I know my brother has it all wrong. She doesn’t even know what I’ve been doing since the day she left me.
I saw the shock on her face when she realized it was me. That face was scared of the truth. She was running from her demons.
“All I am saying is after hiding for five years, the only reason she was found was because she wanted to be.” My brother is jaded, having lived on the blurred line of criminal and law-abiding citizen. He’s seen so much bad in the world he has a hard time seeing the good.