Yours Completely

by Joya Ryan

  “It doesn’t matter. I love Cal, and I just want…” Bea leaned back and looked at me. “I want to say I wish I’d never met Jack. That I want everything but Cal and me to go away. All the experiences and time and pain and—”

  “Love?”

  I nodded. Loving Jack was so different than loving Cal. They each brought out something different. Maybe Cal had been right. Maybe it was better that things had happened the way they did and I’d met Jack how I did. Because it made me who I was. Made me able to love Cal the way I did.

  “Why is this so hard?”

  “Men always are,” she said. “What you need to worry about now is you. Getting that degree you’re so excited about and keeping safe.”

  “Yeah, you’re right.”

  “What do your parents say about all this?”

  “My parents aren’t really around. Well, my dad lives here in Denver, but we don’t talk. Actually, he wants nothing to do with me.”

  “Why? Cal mentioned your step-brother being a piece of work who was vicious to you as a child, but surely your father—”

  “My dad hasn’t really ever backed me since he married Anita. Even now, he treats Brock more like his kid than me. Which is fine. I learned my lesson.”

  “It’s not fine,” Bea said softly. “I’m sorry you’ve had such disappointment in your life. But your parent is supposed to be the one person you can count on.”

  “Maybe that’s why I connected with Cal and Jack the way I did.”

  Bea nodded. “Yes, they’ve had their share of disappointment.”

  “Cal told me some…” I said slowly.

  “Both the boys had a tough time. Cal, for a few years, didn’t talk. Kept to himself. Finally started to open up when he was eight. Staying with his mother like he did hurt him in a way that worries me to this day.” She shook her head. “I hate my sister so much for leaving him like that. Somewhere deep down, I think he still blames himself. Like he could have saved her.”

  Tears flooded my eyes. I couldn’t imagine Cal as a young child staying with his dead mother, trying to take care of her, only for her to never wake up.

  “You’ve taken such good care of him,” I told Bea.

  “No, honey, you take care of him. He’s been outrunning bad memories for a long time. But, you came along, and I’ve never seen him act like this before. Part of me thought he was running into a fire just to feel himself burn, but you’ve brought him back.”

  It all made sense. Why he was so protective. Why he was scared when I was in danger. He needed control in his own way. Only his way was living fast and hard on the edge, and once his feet stopped moving, the stillness and reality of what could go wrong scared him.

  “Jackie helped so much. They became fast friends when Jack and his dad moved across the street. Jack was here more than his own home.”

  I nodded. “Jack told me once that Cal saved him from hurting his dad?”

  Bea nodded. “They were teenagers. One night, that horrible man was beating up on Jackie, and I started to go over, but Cal stopped me and went himself. Only, he got there and found Jack was the one beating his father. He’d fought back, and Cal pulled him off before…”

  I knew the rest, but poor Bea couldn’t say it. Jack had almost beat his father to death. I remembered the look in his dark eyes when he’d told me. Told me how he didn’t understand love without some kind of pain. He owed Cal his whole life because, if his father had died, Jack would have been lost.

  “They really are brothers,” I whispered. They had been through so much together. “I’m so glad they have you.”

  Bea smiled. “I’m glad they have you too, honey.”

  I wanted to say that they didn’t have me. Cal did. But I didn’t want to ruin her moment. She was like their mother and loved them, and I didn’t want to ruin that.

  “There’s something special about you,” Bea said. “Anyone who can’t see it is blind or stupid.”

  She was so warm and kind and…motherly. Something in my chest that I didn’t know was missing started filling the day I met Bea. Something like a sense of family and having a parent in your corner.

  She wasn’t my parent. I knew that. But mine didn’t give a shit, and there was something so magnetic about her that made me just wanted to be a part of this family unit so badly. She loved Jack and Cal, defended them and took care of them. What that must feel like to have someone care for you in that way. The way a parent probably should.

  “Thank you so much,” I said.

  One tear managed to escape.

  Chapter 21

  “Okee-dokie, Miss Case, let’s get this proposal to the thesis board,” Mr. Walker said, while chewing on a bagel. His office was dark, no window, and cluttered in a way that made me itch to call Hoarders to come in and do a TV special. But he was nice and competent. He was also brilliant in his scattered ways.

  I let out a deep breath and resisted the urge to jump up and down. Yes, I still had some classes to take, and more to write up on this thesis, but once it was approved, I could really take off with it.

  “You should let Erica know. She was sorry to lose you as a student,” Mr. Walker said.

  I snapped my attention to him. “What?”

  “You know.” He waved the half-eaten bagel around. “With family obligations and whatnot, I know she was sad to have to lose you.”

  I didn’t think Erica would have said anything overly negative. In fact, the school likely wouldn’t have to know of the conflict of interest with her engagement to my step-brother, but I didn’t know she’d said anything to Mr. Walker about me or the situation.

  “I was sorry to lose her too. Not to say working with you hasn’t been great.”

  “Of course. All the students like me. I always have jellybeans,” he said with so much pride and opened his first desk drawer. “Hmmm.” Then he opened his second desk drawer. “They’re around here somewhere,” he mumbled.

  “That’s okay, Mr. Walker, I’ll get some jellybeans next time.”

  “Okay then. Well, if you want me to pass on the good news of going to the board to Erica, I certainly can next time I see her.”

  “Is she not around as much?” I asked.

  “She’s been trying to cut back a little to have more time with her daughter.”

  “Wait,” I said quickly. “She has a daughter?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, she’s going through a rough time at school, I believe, and she’s been needing her mom more lately, it sounds like.”

  “How old is she?” I asked with horror in my voice.

  “Twelve or thirteen, I think. She just mentioned in the faculty room about going to a parent teacher conference soon. I don’t know how she juggles it all.”

  My stomach bottomed out. If Erica wanted me to stay away from her and Brock, that was one thing. But she had a daughter that was the same age I’d been when Brock violated me. No, no way. Fuck school, or Brock’s threats, or any of it. That little girl couldn’t be under the same roof as him.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Walker, but do you mind if I pack up a bit early? I want to try to catch Erica.”

  “Of course,” he glanced at his watch. “She usually leaves about now, so you may want to hurry.”

  I nodded, grabbed my bag, and hustled to her office. She wasn’t there. So I ran to the parking lot outside her building and caught a glimpse of her walking in the distance. Thank goodness it was still light out, otherwise, I don’t think I would have spotted her.

  “Erica!” I called, and she stopped and turned. I ran and wove through the parked cars until I reached her.

  “Lana,” she said tightly, though there was a look of sadness in her eyes.

  “Listen, I know what you said about not wanting to hear my side about Brock, but you have to. You have a daughter. She’s the same age I was when he raped me, and I don’t care if you kick me out of school or tell the dean or any of it. You have to know. She’s not safe under the same roof with him. Please, please, just listen to me an
d believe me—”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re a mother who I believe would do anything to protect her daughter,” I said. “A few weeks ago, I wouldn’t have been so certain that parents would do that, but now I know just how deep a parent’s love can go. How deep it should go.”

  I’d seen it with Bea. How she cared so much about Cal and Jack. How every day, in every decision they made, she worried for them. Loved them. Supported them.

  Indecision played across Erica’s face.

  “Even if I am lying, don’t you think your daughter is worth figuring out the truth?”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  I stopped mid-rant. “Yes?”

  She nodded and glanced around. “You’re right. I’m sorry, Lana,” she said with the same quiet voice. “Jamie, my daughter, never liked him. And I was just so happy to not be in this alone, to feel loved and like I had a partner that I didn’t want to believe you.” She looked up at me, and what I saw there had my stomach hollowing out. “But I do now.”

  “Oh, God, did he hurt her?”

  “No,” Erica said, and tears filled her eyes. “No, he didn’t, but I’ve realized some things about him recently, and I…he’s not who I thought he was.”

  She started to cry. I gripped her shoulders. “Did he hurt you?”

  “No, nothing like that. Just beneath the good-guy mask is someone I don’t want near my family.” She shook her head. “God, Lana, I’m so sorry. For everything.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  “All I’m worried about now is you and Jamie. Can you get away from him?”

  “I was going to tell him it’s over tonight, and stay at my mother’s for a while.”

  I nodded. “Don’t be alone when you tell him. Have someone there, or do it over the phone, but don’t let his temper come out when you’re alone.”

  “I know.” She pulled me in for a big hug and said one more time, “I’m so sorry.”

  I wanted to tell her it was okay. That she and her daughter were safe, and that’s all that mattered. She didn’t need to be sorry to me. But she just turned and got into her car and drove off. It was then I realized it was a silver 4x4.

  The same car Cal described leaving my house after the break-in.

  “Oh, God…”

  ~

  Cal had been called out to a fire, so I had to wait until he got back to tell him what I’d discovered. In the meantime, I was done letting Brock mess with my life. It was clear Erica had the “getaway car” from the night of the break in, which meant Brock was the one in my house. And he wanted something.

  But what?

  I opened my front door and walked in. Dropping my bag, I started looking through my desk, files, anything he might think could be valuable. I had no idea what he could possibly want. It was like searching for a mad man’s treasure.

  “What the hell are you after?” I said to myself, looking through my box of important documents. Just my birth certificate, insurance policy—

  A booming knock came at my front door.

  “Lana!”

  It was Brock. And he sounded pissed. I took a deep breath and walked to the door. There was still some daylight left, and I was across the street from a fire station. I had my phone in hand, just in case. But it was time to confront the bastard.

  “What do you want?” I asked, opening the front door.

  He was almost red with fury. “For starters, I’d like to know where my fiancé ran off to.”

  I swallowed hard. “How would I know?”

  “Don’t fuck with me. I know you said something to her, and now she’s gone.”

  “Good,” I said.

  He growled and kicked the door the rest of the way open and stormed in. I backed up and fear flooded. I dialed 9-1-1, but before I hit send, he grabbed the phone and threw it across the room.

  I was terrified. Those eyes, that rage…I knew it all too well, and it made the little girl inside want to scream and cry. No, I needed to stay calm. Stay focused. Try to rein in the fear and get out of this.

  “Why were you here? I know it was you who broke in.”

  He scoffed. “You’re so fucking stupid. You have no idea what you’re dealing with.”

  “I know I’m dealing with a sociopath in front of me, and you can’t scare me anymore.”

  “Oh no? You look pretty scared right now.”

  He stepped closer, and I backed away until I hit a wall. “Get out!”

  He smiled like a devil would. Sinister and viscous.

  “You keep sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong and fucking with my life.” That was laughable. I fucked with his life?

  “If fucking with your life means you can’t get to Erica or Jamie, I’ll gladly do it.” I found all the strength I had and forced the words, “Now, get out.”

  Rage took him over and he lunged at me, grabbing my throat and pushing me further against the wall.

  “You fucking bitch. You won’t take everything I have! You won’t!”

  I clawed at his arms and kicked out, making contact with his shin, enough for him to ease his grip. Instinct took over, and I kicked again, and again. He threw me against the desk, which tipped over and crashed. I caught my breath for a moment, and when I saw him coming at me, I knew by the look in his eyes he was going to kill me.

  I kicked out again and hit his stomach, but he grabbed me as I tried to run, and wrestled me to the floor.

  “Help!” I screamed. “Help!”

  Putting my hands together, I made a double fist, and just started hitting any part of him I could. Fighting. For the first time since that night, I fought. I fought the way I wanted to back then, but had been too afraid. Not today. If he wanted to hurt me, I’d hurt him back. And I would fight. For myself, for Erica and Jamie, for everyone who’d been hurt and couldn’t fight.

  “You can’t beat me,” he said, and spit landed on my face. I struggled and used all my strength to get him off of me, and when I saw his hand raised high, I squeezed my eyes shut.

  The next thing I felt was blistering pain slice across my cheek. He hit me so hard I blinked to clear the haze, but it wouldn’t clear.

  I hiked my knee up and kicked him hard, finally hitting his groin and getting him to scream in pain. He rolled off of me with his hands cupped between his legs. I made for the door, threw it open, and screamed.

  “Help!” I ran toward the fire station. “Help!”

  A couple men ran from the building, and I breathed hard. “He attacked me…” I sputtered and pointed at my house.

  My ears were buzzing, I couldn’t hear right, couldn’t see right. But one man ran across the street to my house, while the other said something I couldn’t make out.

  But I felt a hand on me and flinched away.

  “Easy, it’s okay,” I thought he said. “It’s me, Dave.”

  “Dave?”

  He started yelling for a medic or gurney? I couldn’t quite hear right, but I was glad he was a familiar face. My mouth was moving, but sounds didn’t come out. I was trying to tell him what happened. Tell him that Brock was over at my house and to not let him get away. I struggled to stay standing, and felt like my limbs suddenly lost the bones in them.

  Then a big fire truck rolled up and parked in the driveway.

  Cal jumped from the truck in all his gear that was smoky and covered in soot and ran toward me.

  Everything would be okay.

  Just seeing him made me know that.

  But my adrenaline crashed, and as I watched Cal run toward me, all I could hear were the words he once said the last time this happened.

  When you crash, I’ll be right here to catch you…

  With that, my legs buckled, and my world went dark.

  Chapter 22

  My body was being jostled around, and I opened my eyes to find Cal staring down at me. I glanced around. There was an IV in my arm, something securing me around my middle, and a clip thing on my fi
nger. A faint beep, beep, beep sounded, matching the pulse in my neck.

  “Ambulance?” I asked.

  Cal nodded. He stroked my hair and looked on the brink of a nervous breakdown. He didn’t have his heavy fire jacket or helmet, but his red suspenders came up over his blue T-shirt, and he still had on his fire pants and boots. Flecks of ash lined his handsome face.

  “Brock!” I said, and tried to sit up, but found it difficult because my neck was in some kind of wrap.

  “Shhh, it’s okay, Kitten. The police came and took him into custody.”

  “He was looking for something. Said I was taking things from him.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Cal said softly, and ran his fingers along my hairline. “I don’t want you to worry about that. I want you to rest.” He looked at Rhett, who sat across from me. “What are you running?”

  “Standard drip for hydration. Her BP is a little low, vitals are good, though.”

  They were talking over me like I wasn’t there. Cal looked so stern, tense, I wondered if this is how all people felt riding in an ambulance. Being my first time, I didn’t know what to expect, other than it seemed like overkill for a dizzy spell.

  “I don’t need a hospital. I’m fine, I just collapsed.” I tried adjusting my shoulders, but it was no use. I was strapped down pretty well. The smell of rubbing alcohol tied with the sound of sloshing liquids as we hit a rough patch of road surrounded me.

  “We’re already en-route, and you’re going to get checked out,” he said sternly. “Can you tell me what happened? How he got in your home and where were you were hit?” He stared at me, and it looked like he was about ready to cry. “Besides the face,” he said softly.

  Yeah, I figured I must have a good welt on my cheek because it was throbbing like hell.

  “He just pushed me some, the only big hit was to my cheek. I’m really okay.”

  Cal scoffed, and ran his thumb along my non-bruised cheekbone. “I’m sorry, Lana, I should have protected you better.”

  “You did. You have. I went home, I opened the door to him. I just wanted to know what he was looking for, because it was him. The man that night was Brock.”

  “How do you know?”