Disrupt

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by Ella Fox


  Eden

  The feeling that I’m being studied wakes me up. My heart stops for a panicked beat before I remember that I went to sleep with Donovan in the bed with me, which means he’s the one staring at me. He woke me up in the middle of the night and took me again, slow, deep, and so, so good that I thought my bones might just melt. My last memory is of him letting out a sound of disbelief when I immediately started drifting off when it was over. “That’s normally the man’s job,” he’d laughed. I was too tired to explain that it was his fault for blissing me out so much.

  Opening my eyes, I smile drowsily when I find him sitting on the edge of the bed, clad only in his boxer briefs. Fully dressed he’s hot as hell. Nearly naked, he’s an inferno. Only when I look back up to his face do I realize he looks stressed. Shit. If he’s having morning after regrets I am not going to be happy. My body is tense as I sit up, wincing a bit when I feel how tender I am from last night. The physical reminder that he’s been inside of me is something I know I’ll be feeling for the rest of the day, if not for several days to come. Forcing myself to focus on the situation at hand I narrow my eyes and pin Donovan with a stare.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing is wrong,” he assures me. “I’m just frustrated. The last thing in the world I want to do right now is leave you—”

  “Then don’t,” I say, my voice a bit screechy even to my own ears.

  “Just listen, Angel. I just got something back on the feelers I put out on your dad. I finally found him.”

  My mouth goes dry as my heartbeat speeds up exponentially.

  “You did?”

  This is… unexpected. I’m equal parts hopeful and terrified at the very same time. If he’s found him now is the time when I’ll find out one way or another what the future holds. Either Dad wants to fix his relationship with me or he’s done being a parent. I know there’s no middle ground.

  “I did. He’s in a fleabag no-tell motel just outside of Atlantic City.”

  My eyes widen at that because my parents met in Atlantic City. Once they left, they never went back and he always maintained that he hated it there. The situation between us being what it is I have no idea why Dad is there.

  Looking at Donovan, I can see that he’s truly not thrilled about leaving.

  “You don’t have to go,” I murmur. “I can tell you’re unhappy and I know it’s a lot to ask—”

  He raises his hand to stop me from continuing. “I need to do this for you. I’m only unhappy that it’s happening right this second. I don’t want you to feel like I’m doing a runner on you by leaving after what happened last night.”

  “You’re truly not tempted to run?” I ask.

  He shakes his head emphatically. “Last night showed me once and for fucking all that there’s no goddamn point in running from you anymore, Eden. You’re stuck with me now… until you want to run.”

  I look him straight in the eye and say, “I won’t be running, Stretch. You didn’t chase me off with all your prickliness, I’m sure as hell not going to bail now.”

  The look of relief that passes over his face warms my heart. It’s so clear now, I’m not sure why I didn’t see it before. He really cares.

  “Should I go with you?” I ask.

  He shakes his head as he pulls me into his arms. “What I do is not always pleasant. I don’t think shit will hit the fan with your dad, but the truth is I won’t know for sure until I’m in the situation. He’s gone to a lot of trouble to stay off the radar—I don’t want you there if he gets hostile or aggressive. If shit gets bad I can’t have you caught in the middle.”

  I can’t imagine my dad going nuts, but then, I never imagined he’d clear out my bank account and disappear, either. Now that it’s closing in on a year of no contact with my father, I have to admit that I don’t know him nearly as well as I once believed I did. Realizing that Donovan is right, I nod my head against his shoulder.

  “I understand.”

  “I want nothing more than to stay and make love to you all day but I have to go,” he murmurs against the top of my head. “As far as I’ve been able to tell up to this point, your dad hasn’t stayed in any one place for long enough for me to catch up to him. I’m afraid any delay will leave me—and you—coming up empty handed.”

  That my dad has gone to such great lengths to stay hidden scares me to death. If this is all because he’s hiding from me, it’s going to break my heart.

  “If you want to get dressed you can walk me down to the garage. I left my truck in there last night.”

  With a nod I get up, grab some underwear, a tee, and a pair of sweats before I head to the bathroom. As nervous as I’m feeling about my dad, I can’t contain a groan of dismay when I see myself in the mirror. The artfully tousled and curled hair from last night is now an absolute train wreck and my eye makeup has left little black circles beneath my eyes. I really should’ve washed my face before I fell asleep because this morning after look is haggard as hell. I’m a little surprised he didn’t run from this alone.

  After quickly using the bathroom, washing my face and brushing my teeth, I head back into the bedroom. Donovan’s dressed and ready to go but I can tell he doesn’t want to leave. Going to him, I wrap my arms around him and hug tightly.

  “Thank you for doing this.”

  “You don’t ever have to thank me, Angel. All I care about is making this right for you.”

  It takes me a second to answer because I have to swallow past the lump in my throat. When I can speak, I tell him the truth. “Don’t put that on yourself. Only my dad can do that—and no one can make him do it. If he isn’t willing to see me, that’s that. I won’t give up hoping that he’ll want to pick up the pieces, but I’ll never force it I’m not wanted.”

  His eyes are sad when he nods. “For someone so young, you’re very smart.”

  Seeing the opening to lighten the mood, I smile up at him. “That comment makes me think you’re a lot older than I am, Stretch. Exactly how close to the nursing home are you?”

  He gives me a wry look as he shakes his head. “I’m only thirty-three, so I feel confident I’ve got at least seven good nursing home free years ahead of me.”

  “Something to look forward to,” I deadpan as I stand on my tiptoes and purse my lips. Leaning in, he kisses me softly but deeply before pulling back.

  “Walk me down to the garage before I say fuck it, throw you down on the bed, and blow everything else off for the next seven years.”

  Laughing, I slide on my sneakers and then take his extended hand. “No bag?” I ask as we walk outside and turn the corner to head out back.

  “No need to pack—I keep a bag in the truck with a few days’ worth of clothes just in case.”

  I nod but stay silent as we continue toward the garage.

  “You know my cousin is going to descend on you like a locust today, right?”

  “Oh, one hundred percent,” I laugh. “And you know that your parents—and probably Margie—are going to come after you at some point today, right?”

  He snickers. “It’s already started. Woke up this morning to a text from my mom telling me she really thought I had smoother moves than that.”

  Squeezing his hand, I smile. “I thought it was pretty smooth.”

  “Even though it was all because of bullshit?”

  That pulls me up short. “Huh?”

  “I was all torqued up last night so I wasn’t thinking straight, but after you passed out on me my brain started working again. There was no blind date, Shortstack. Julie did all that to get me to show my hand, and my mom and aunt helped her do it.”

  Thinking back over everything that happened, I see it now. I look over at him with concern and ask, “Are you mad?”

  Stopping at the door to the garage, he pulls me into his arms. “No, I’m not mad. Nothing anyone did would’ve made a difference if I didn’t want you the way I do. All things considered I feel like I got off lucky. Knowing my cousin I’m sure she had
a whole list of things to do if last night didn’t work. Her heart is big and her need to fix me is strong. Once she realized I had feelings for you all bets were off. She has no filter and she wouldn’t have stopped until I surrendered.”

  “She’s a little intense,” I offer.

  “Yeah, just a bit,” he snickers.

  Leaning down, he lays a kiss on me that has me feeling weak in the knees. When he lifts his head, I make a sound of annoyance.

  “I’ll call or text you as soon as I get there.”

  “Oh! Let me put my number in your phone.”

  He gives me a look. “Julie put it in there days ago.”

  I should’ve known. “Of course she did,” I sigh.

  Dropping another quick kiss on my lips, he steps back. “Be good while I’m gone.”

  When I get back to my room I head for my purse to pull out the tunic and leggings I wore last night at dinner. Since they were only worn for about two hours I’m going to hang the tunic back up. Hefting the purse onto the bed, my eyes widen as they settle on the thing at the very top of the bag—which is an unopened box of condoms.

  Holy crap. We didn’t use anything.

  I’m sprawled out on the couch trying to avoid thoughts of Dad while I watch my favorite decorating goddess, Joanna Gaines, do her magic. I’m waiting for Julie to show up, because she texted me within ten minutes of Donovan’s departure to announce that she’ll be coming over as soon as she finishes having breakfast with Morrow at the diner in town. I’m just thankful she gave me enough warning to allow me to shower, make myself presentable, and get my bedroom tidied up.

  Hearing her knock on the door, I hurry to open it. She looks me over from head to toe before giving me a shit-eating grin. “Someone got so, so lucky last night,” she announces as she walks into my room. I don’t respond to the taunt as I trail along behind her, my attention on the white plastic bag that’s giving off the distinct odor of bacon.

  “Did you bring me food?” I ask hopefully.

  “Of course I did. I always remember to feed my bitches.”

  After setting the bag on the table, she gestures for me to sit. “Sheila put utensils in the bag so you’re good to go.”

  Opening the bag, she pulls out a white Styrofoam container, a container of orange juice, and a packet of silverware, all of which she slides across the table. “Food of the gods. Great for curing hangovers or adding a little pep to your step after a night spent in pound town.”

  I make a production of opening the container of food in the hopes that she’ll get the hint and hush up.

  “Just tell me—are you still a virgin?”

  Looking up from the glorious bounty within the container—two pancakes, six pieces of bacon, two eggs over easy and a little pile of home fries, I give her a look. “What do you think?”

  She bursts out laughing and throws her hands in the air as she lets out a woot woot. “I think that V card is all gone. Goddamn I’m good.”

  “A legend in your own mind,” I deadpan as I look down to grab a piece of bacon.

  “I’m just so fucking happy I could do cartwheels.”

  “Not in here you’re not,” I tease.

  She laughs and assesses me in silence for several seconds. “Are you happy?”

  Swallowing my bite of pancake, I nod. “Absolutely.”

  “Then the stress I’m sensing is just about your dad?”

  Pushing away all thoughts of unused condoms, I nod. “Donovan didn’t want me to go because he said sometimes things get out of hand. I want to believe my dad will be chill, but since he disappeared without warning I no longer know what to expect from him.”

  “I know it’s hard but when it’s all said and done the only thing you can do is pray for the best and wait. No matter what happens I’m here for you—and obviously so is Van.”

  I can only pray he’ll be here for me if the lack of protection results in pregnancy.

  23

  Donovan

  I’m still annoyed that I had to leave Eden, which means I’m in dick mode when I finally arrive just outside the city limits of Atlantic City. It was a boring as fuck three-and-a-half-hour drive and I fought the urge to turn and go back the entire goddamn way. If I didn’t know it would upset her, I’d probably lay her dad the fuck out just for ruining this particular day.

  The motel he’s in is a rundown shithole. I knew that before I got here but the drunken assholes loitering all over the place really bring that home. The most recent text from my source says that as of five minutes ago, Marshall Avery was still here, located in room fourteen. My guy has been watching him all day and according to what he’s reported back, Eden’s dad is quiet and doesn’t appear to be on anything. He’s also alone, no sign of the wife. Climbing out of my truck, I ignore three panhandlers who descended on my car like locusts before the engine was even off. I step around them without acknowledgement and head directly for his room. I’m hoping like hell my guy is right and that this fucker isn’t tweaking, but I’ve learned the hard way to be prepared.

  My knock is firm but not I’m a cop firm. I know the difference since I was an officer, back before everything went wrong. Hearing him move around on the other side of the door, I wait. I can tell when he checks the peephole because of the shadow. Also, his muttered curse is a dead giveaway. Fully expecting him not to respond, I’m pleasantly surprised when he opens the door without argument. He’s clean and looks healthy enough, but it’s obvious that stress is aging the fuck out of him. He’s only forty-seven, but he looks like he’s in his mid-fifties.

  “Marshall Avery?” I ask, needing to confirm.

  He nods. “That’s me.”

  “I’m—”

  “Donovan Beckett,” he answers for me as he holds the door open and gestures for me to enter.

  Crazy shit can happen working a skip trace but I’m rarely as surprised as I am right now. “How the fuck do you know who I am?”

  I quickly assess the small, crappy as hell room as I walk in. Spotting a high school graduation photo of Eden on the dresser, I come up short.

  “Despite how it looks, I love my daughter, Mr. Beckett,” he says from behind me. “I know who you are because I’m not such a piece of shit that I didn’t check up on her.”

  He drops down into a rickety looking chair at an equally unstable table. When he motions for me to sit, I hope for the best as I put my body weight on the other shitty chair.

  “You’ve checked on her?”

  “Several times. That’s how I know who you are. It seemed to me like every time I made the drive up there you were hovering around her,” he says with a pointed look. “As soon as I noticed you noticing her I set about finding out who you were. I pretended to recognize you and asked that nice woman at Jackson’s Market if I was right about who I thought you were. Needless to say I wasn’t, but she provided your name without another thought.”

  It figures that Gloria’s blabbermouth would be how he got that information. She probably talks to her plants. Knowing that he has been checking in on Eden but hasn’t made contact doesn’t sit well. Now I get why she thought someone was watching her.

  “If you’ve been concerned enough to check in, why the hell haven’t you talked to her?”

  He has the good sense to look shamed by my question. “Because I don’t deserve her. I lost my way and it spiraled out of my control,” he says bluntly. “First, I lost my job, then my house, and finally I lost my daughter because I took her money and nearly lost it all. There’s no explanation that can ever make that right.”

  “Where the fuck did all that money go?”

  He grimaces and looks away, clearing his throat before answering, “I’m a gambling addict. Met my wife in a casino when I was shit out of luck and money, but it wound up being the luckiest day of my life. Because of Melissa, I started going to Gam-Anon meetings and I got my shit under control. We moved away from Atlantic City as soon as our little princess was born and I never looked back. Figured it would never hap
pen again, but life went sideways when my wife and mother-in-law were killed by a drunk driver in the fall of Eden’s senior year of high school. At first I thought I was handling it but after she left for college and I was alone in that house… it felt like within an instant,” he snaps his fingers for effect before continuing, “I was lost.”

  I’m not entirely without empathy because I know what it’s like to be lost. It’s the fact that his actions have hurt Eden that pisses me off the most.

  “When you say you’ve lost nearly every cent, what does that mean exactly?”

  “I’ve got twenty-one thousand and change left. I kept trying to recoup the losses so I could make it up to her but the balance just kept going down. I hit rock bottom when I realized she couldn’t afford to finish out her degree and other than the bare minimum in living expenses I haven’t touched a penny since.”

  Again, I’m conflicted. If he hadn’t fucked up, she wouldn’t have needed the job at the motel. Without that job, I wouldn’t have her.

  “I have to ask—did you lose a hundred and twenty large without any help, or was the new wife involved?”

  His jaw clenches as he looks down at the table. “In the end, it doesn’t matter all that much since I’m the dumb fuck that took the money out of the bank. That’s all on me.”

  “It will matter to Eden,” I mutter.

  A few seconds pass before he lets out a heavy sigh. “I personally lost fifty-three of Eden’s money. That’s on top of the equity loans I took out on the house that I lost. The rest was Sharon.”

  “What about the credit cards that got taken out in Eden’s name?”

  His jaw clenches as he shakes his head. “That was Sharon. I didn’t know about that until it was too late.”

  That fucking bitch had better not ever show her face around Eden, because I won’t react well. My source said there was no sign of her and nothing in this room suggests a woman has been around. Hopefully she’s long gone.“Where is she now?”

  “I don’t know and I don’t want to know, either. I bailed on her one afternoon while she was at the track and I’ve stayed way the hell off the radar ever since so that she can’t find me. I’ve been bouncing from shitty motel to shitty motel just to be damn sure she doesn’t show up demanding that I try to make it work. It was always bullshit with her—I married her because she likes to gamble as much as I did and I was lonely. To be blunt, I’m damn ashamed that I tarnished my late wife’s memory that way. Since leaving Sharon I’ve been going back to my Gam-Anon meetings and I got an under the table job on a landscaping crew. This motel is shit but it’s all I can afford until I can get all the way back on my feet.”

 

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