by Jen Talty
And he’d been there for four.
He enjoyed experiencing these men’s bonds from a safe distance. He’d never been jealous of their tight friendships. He admired and respected them.
He just didn’t want it for himself until now, but he wasn’t sure how to ask for it. “Do you know that tattoo place up near the base?” Gunner asked.
“I have an appointment there in an hour.”
“Let’s go now. I want to add a couple of words to the one on my back.”
“Isn’t that the same tattoo you brother’s buddy, Ghost, has?”
“I changed it up a bit, but now that I have a kid, I need to add to it.”
“Add what?” Declan asked.
“I want it to read:
I will defend my brothers & their women,
With honor and duty, I will defend my country,
I will remember that freedom isn’t free.
Quiet professionalism rules the day.
And family rules the heart.”
Arcadia sprinted down the hallway of the school toward the principal’s office. It wasn’t the first time her son had been in a fight, but it was the first time he’d been the one to do the punching.
“Wait up.”
She skidded to a stop and nearly fell over when she saw Gunner jogging in her direction. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“The school called me too.”
“Why did they do that?” She brushed her hair from her face and let out a long breath. “Oh. I added you as an emergency contact and also listed you as his father.”
“You did?”
She nodded. “I hope that’s okay. You said you wanted to be part of his life and, well, I thought since, um, well…”
His strong fingers curled around her biceps, and he tugged her closer. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“My last words to you ten years ago were: I’m dead to you. Thanks for keeping me alive in his eyes. You didn’t have to do that.”
She covered her mouth, doing her best to keep Niagara Falls from taking off all her mascara and smudging it down her cheeks. “You were never dead to me. Or him. Not even when he asked me if it was possible you died in action and trust me, I thought about telling him that every year.”
“You’re a good woman and a great mom. Now let’s go find out what our son did and why. But for the record, if he stood up for someone’s honor, he’s my kid. If it’s something else, he’s yours.”
“Spoken like a true dad.” She swiped the tears away and stiffened her spine. No one was ever going to look at her with pity in their eyes again. Her son had a father who genuinely cared about Davidson’s well-being. That’s all she ever wanted.
“I might not have acted like one earlier.”
She glanced up at him with narrowed eyes.
He bit back a smile. That had always been her go-to disappointed look.
“What does that mean?” she asked with a tilt of her head.
“Once we bail our kid out and he’s out of earshot, I’ll fill you in.”
Our kid.
That sounded and felt like she’d been tossed from a rollercoaster ride into deep space and now she floated above the Earth, looking down at the tiny dot, wondering how the hell she’d gotten there in the first place.
Of all the ways she imagined this going over the years, she always knew he’d make for a great dad.
“I don’t like the sound of that.” She rounded the corner and stepped into the principal’s office, Gunner one pace behind. “What did you do?”
“Let’s just say we could be in here because of me.”
“Good grief,” she mumbled.
“Ms. Bloomingdale,” the principal greeted her with an outstretched arm. “And you must be Mr. Davidson.”
“I am.” Gunner shook the man’s hand. He stood tall, proud, and confident.
Her stomach flipped around like a fish out of water. “Where’s my son?”
“He’s in my office. I wanted to talk to you for a minute alone.”
“What happened?” Gunner rested his hands on his hips. His biceps bulged through the thin fabric of his shirt. “All I was told was that David got into a fist fight.”
“Fist fight? All you said was he and another boy got into a fight,” Arcadia said, keeping her frustration in check. It wouldn’t do her any good to fly off the handle.
“I apologize if I didn’t make that clear. It started when he told everyone he wanted to be called David, because that’s his father’s full first name.”
“David is my name, and his is Davidson. So if he wants to be called David, I don’t see the problem.”
“It’s not a problem, I assure you,” the principal said. “I first want to tell you both that Davidson—I mean David—is a fine young man, so this little altercation, at first, shocked me,” the principal said. “Until I heard what a few of the other children had to say.”
“I don’t mean to be rude, but could you please just tell us what happened?” Arcadia asked.
The principal nodded. “David spent most of the day talking about how you’d finally tracked down his father. To be fair, you know as well as I do some of the children and their parents think that David has been making up stories about his father.”
Arcadia pursed her lips. “A few of the parents have made that very clear, and as I told you—”
The principal raised his hand. “From the moment we met, Ms. Bloomingdale, I understood the situation and have never once doubted or thought David was making anything up, and I’ve done what I can to squelch those rumors, but what goes on outside of these buildings, I have very little control over. That said, I think you should know the other boy involved has been suspended for a week.”
“What about David? Will he be suspended?” she asked, mindlessly taking hold of the nearest object.
Which happened to be Gunner’s hand.
She half expected him to yank it away, but instead, he clasped his firm fingers around her skin, wrapping it in comfort and warmth like a fleece blanket on a cool evening.
“No. But he will be spending a few days in my office as punishment.”
“You still haven’t told us what happened,” Gunner interjected.
“After lunch, Blaine Lawrence accused David of hiring someone to play his dad. David did what he always does and shrugged it off,” the principal said.
“He’s never been one to let bullies bother him so much,” she said.
“Well, unfortunately, Blaine started calling you names, Ms. Bloomingdale.”
“Me?” She glanced up at Gunner, who hadn’t said a single word in a while, but had started to squeeze her hand so hard it hurt. “What kind of names?” she asked, almost wishing she hadn’t. Not only did Gunner have a short fuse, but he could never tolerate anyone disrespecting another human, especially women.
The principal’s forehead crinkled. “He said that you were his father’s whore. That you took money for sex acts from other fathers at the school. He told David he had pictures to prove it.”
“Jesus,” Gunner mumbled. “Did Blaine have any pictures?”
“What?” She yanked her arm, but he didn’t let go.
“I don’t mean of you, I just mean any naughty pictures at all.” Gunner arched a brow. “That he could try to pass off as you.”
“They are in the fourth grade. Where the hell would they get pictures like that?” she asked, glaring.
“I got them from my older brother when I was that age.” Gunner rubbed the side of his face.
“We took his phone after we broke up the fight, but before we could make him show us the images on his phone, his father came in, and legally, we don’t have the right to force them to give us access,” the principal said. “This isn’t the first time Blaine has said something like this to another child at school. He’s accused many mothers of being with his father. This is Blaine’s third fist fight this year, which is why we have suspended him, not something that happens often in e
lementary school. Actually, this is my first time having to do it. Lucky for David, he didn’t throw the first punch,” the principal said.
“Why is that lucky?” Gunner released her hand, flexing his fingers before folding his arms across his broad chest.
“Because all David really did was defend himself after Blaine hit him four times, according to one of the other students.”
“How did a boy manage to hit my kid that many times before someone intervened?” Gunner asked.
Arcadia’s heart rate sped up as she watched and listened to Gunner handle the situation like a seasoned pro. She, on the other hand, was on the verge of losing her cool. She wanted to talk to David and hear his side of the story. Of course, she’d tell David he screwed up, though secretly she wished he hadn’t waited to punch back. She was tired of Blaine and his father. She’d barely lived here a month, and that family had become a thorn in her side.
“It happened on the playground around the side of the school. My staff was attending to a young girl who fell off the monkey bars and had the wind knocked out of her.” The principal held up his hand. “I know that’s no excuse for what happened, but as soon as they saw the boys fighting, they broke it up.” The principal’s lips curved upward. “But not until David managed to land one right here.” He pointed to his nose. “He didn’t break Blaine’s nose, but the blood might have ruined his very expensive shirt, which probably cost more than this fancy Target suit I’m wearing.”
Arcadia took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, grateful for the way the principal dealt with the situation.
“We do have a no tolerance policy at the school; that is why he will have in-school detention.”
“I have no issue with that,” she said. “I’d like to see my son now.”
The principal nodded. “I think it would be a good idea to just take him home. There is only an hour left of school. I’ll go get him.”
Gunner leaned closer. His hot breath tickled her skin. “Sounds like he’s got my left jab, but I’m going to have to talk to him about letting someone hit him that many times before defending himself.”
“He’s got a lot of things from you,” she said with a smile. “But I can’t condone fighting, and you will do no such thing.”
“You can condone defending his mother’s honor and defending himself. He waited until the idiot hit him more than once. I wouldn’t have waited that long.”
“No. You would have thrown the first punch,” she said, letting out a small laugh.
“Just like I did this morning.”
“You did what?” she asked, not looking amused.
“Wendel got into my face. He said crap about you and about two of my female co-workers on the base. He pissed me off, so I popped him one.”
“Good grief,” she mumbled. “I’m going to need you to stop doing stuff like that, especially around our son.”
“If it makes you feel any better, that is the first punch I’ve thrown in about five years.”
“Not really.”
“Mom! Dad!” David came barreling out of the principal’s office with a black eye and a fat lip. He flung himself at her, wrapping his arms around her with all his might. His little shoulders bobbed up and down as he began to cry. “I tried to do what you said, Mom, but he wouldn’t stop.”
“You know how I feel about fighting,” she said softly, kissing the top of his head. “Come on, let’s go home. We’ll talk about this there.”
“Can Dad come too?”
“Sure,” she said. If she was going to let him be a father, then she had to deal with the fact that he’d be spending time with them together, even if it broke her heart all over again.
Chapter 5
Gunner’s phone vibrated in his back pocket. He pulled it out and stared at an email from Wendel Lawrence. The subject line read: Medical Bills.
He tapped the screen.
I do expect you to pay for my son’s doctor visit today as well as his clothing. The bill is attached. Seems your boy takes after you, taking pot shots for no reason. But that is not the nature of this email. I just wanted to get your attention.
As one Airman to another, I’d appreciate it if you told your captain to return the items from my home office. On Monday, I have an appointment with JAG. I’d rather not file a complaint, but Ace hasn’t left me any choice. His incompetence in finding out who set the fire will be his downfall.
And yours, if you’re not careful.
By the way, letting Arcadia go had to be the dumbest thing you’ve ever done, but don’t you worry, I’ve taken good care of her.
I plan on doing it again.
“Like hell you will,” Gunner whispered.
The sound of rubber squeaking against a hardwood floor tickled his ears.
He shoved the phone in his back pocket.
“Here.”
Gunner took the beer Arcadia offered. He sat on the front step of her house. She lived on a dead-end street in the back of a quiet, more upscale neighborhood than his. Children ran about their yards yelling and laughing. A group of teenagers sat under a big tree near the entrance of a small park. He’d never been in this part of town, but he knew of a couple of people on the base who lived a few blocks away.
“Where’s David?” he asked.
“It’s going to be so hard for me to call him David all the time. But if it makes him happy, then so be it.”
“And it’s going to be better when he takes my last name.”
“That’s jumping the gun a bit, don’t you think?”
“Maybe, but if he wants my name, I’m happy to do it.”
She nodded. “I just want to make sure that any decisions we make are in his best interest.”
“Where is he?” Gunner asked again.
“Cleaning his room. I told him once he was done with that, then we’ll see about him playing outside with the rest of the kids, but he really should have some kind of consequence, don’t you think?”
“You’re asking me for parenting advice?” He twisted and pulled at the paper label on his beer. “That’s rich,” he said sarcastically.
“I’m trying to include you in everything. I know this is overwhelming, and you’re still angry.”
“You don’t have a freaking clue as to what I’m feeling.” Nor did he. One second, he was flying high, thrilled by the strange turn of events. Minutes later, rage filled his heart. Had Arcadia never strapped herself to a jumper, he might not have ever known he had a kid.
Whose fault was that?
Not a question he was prepared to ponder too closely. He preferred to blame her. It made it easier, just like it had to blame both of them for Courtney’s death so he could be an asshole and walk away.
“Why don’t you tell me how you’re—”
“Why? So, you can psychoanalyze me?” He kept his gaze on the young girl skipping rope across the street. He counted the number of times her feet hit the pavement while he continued to remove the paper label from his longneck. He wasn’t sure when it happened, but somewhere along the way, he’d mastered feeling sorry for himself.
“Now you’re just being an asshole because you can.”
She had a point. “How long have you lived here?”
“Less than a month.”
He shook his head. “I’m five miles south of here.”
“It’s a small world.” She took a seat next to him. Leaning back on her elbow, she gulped some of her beer. She hadn’t aged much over the last ten years. A few small lines around the eyes and she might have put on a few pounds, which were sorely needed, but she looked exactly as he remembered.
“I’m sorry you’ve had to raise him all alone. Had I known, I would have been there for you. For him.”
She jerked her head back and laughed. “One minute I’d be mad as hell at you, and I’d write you some really nasty stuff. The next I’d be swooning over you. Kind of like how you’re treating me now.”
He reached out and clanked her nearly empty bottle. “I k
now. I read all the letters.”
“I meant every single word.”
“I bet you did,” he said, slightly amused by the way her lips curved into a half-smile. “I deserved your wrath too.”
She’d always had a light, calming effect on the people around her, no matter the situation. When he’d been with her, she had believed in the concept that if you can’t laugh at yourself, you shouldn’t laugh at all. Her life had been one tragic event after the other, and yet she managed to remain positive.
It seemed like she continued on the positive train long after he left her standing in that cemetery.
His mother told him on her death bed that she had no regrets, and that was the one wish she had for her boys.
He’d failed his mother the day he walked away from Arcadia.
And he failed his son.
Two regrets he’d spend the rest of his life trying make up for.
“I couldn’t believe the man I knew would just up and abandon his child.”
“I would never do—”
She pressed her palm over his mouth. “That’s why I kept writing, regardless of how much you hurt me. I’d look at our son, and I knew deep down that something had to be keeping you from him. I just didn’t know what, so I kept writing hoping that one day you’d show up.” She dropped her hand to her side. “He’s certainly a chip off the old block, that’s for sure.”
“He told me that he waited for just the right moment to sock the little turd in the nose, just like you told him I did, only I didn’t take the punch first.” Pride filled Gunner’s mind, but at the same time, he was reminded of Wendel and the women on the base who’d been raped and murdered. It had everyone on edge, simply because it meant the rapist/murderer was most likely one of their own, making it hard to trust the man standing next to you. “I don’t think giving him some kind of punishment is the right thing to do. He had every right to defend himself.”