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Spark

Page 4

by S. L. Scott


  She signals to the car. “I brought the paperwork for you to sign.” I don’t have to say anything for her to know how I’m feeling. Her arms tighten around him, and her words are quick. “It’s just two lines to sign, and then we can let you get back to your life.”

  “You were right last night.”

  “About?” she asks, a faint tremble weakening her strong façade.

  “My life will never be the same.” With my eyes on my son, my heart expands, and I add, “It will be better. I’m willing to do what I need when it comes to raising Alfie.”

  He flies from her arms and runs into mine with a hard thump against my chest. For a kid who’s never met his father, this was not what I expected.

  I stand with my son in my arms—taking in his small build, and kid smell, and arms that squeeze me as hard as I’m embracing him—and know this is right.

  I catch a glimpse of Hannah with tears in her eyes, matching the ones in mine, just before I close my eyes and tuck my head against his shoulder.

  I’ve not been around many kids since I was one and don’t have many friends with them, so I didn’t know I’d feel this way. How is it that a heart that feels so normal one minute can be so open and welcoming in such an unexpected way the next?

  “You’re squeezing too hard,” Alfie says, causing me to laugh.

  “Sorry, little dude.” Keeping him eye level, I continue holding him in my arms to look at him up close. I see a little of Rivers’s chin, too much of Tulsa’s mischief in his smile, and Cassie’s eyes. “The Crow genes are strong.” I glance at Hannah, who shifts, appearing not to know what to do with herself.

  She exhales a deep breath and wipes the corner of her eye with the back of her hand. “Yeah.” Her reply is so quiet that I barely hear her.

  Setting Alfie down, I whisper, “I need to talk to Hannah in private, okay?”

  He nods and sits down on the curb. It’s only about seven or eight feet away, but an overwhelming need to protect him comes over me. Much like she felt when she was holding him. I fight it because I need to talk to her where he can’t hear. I lean against her car. When she turns toward me, I keep my voice low. “I won’t give him away.”

  “I had a feeling,” she replies, glancing back at Alfie. When her eyes return to mine, she sighs. “He’s like my own child. I love him, Jet.”

  A foreign stab deep inside makes me rub my hand over my chest. “I meant what I said yesterday. I won’t keep him from you. You’re all he knows. You and Cassie’s mom. He needs you. You’re his family.”

  When a tear starts to slip down her cheek, I reach out reflexively to stop it from falling. “Don’t cry, Hannah. We have to be strong for Alfie. We have to work together to make his transition easier.”

  “Transition?” Her shoulders fly back, and her eyes go wide. “He’s not ready for that. You can’t just have him. That . . . that . . . that won’t work. No.” She rushes to Alfie and pulls him up by the hand. “You’re not taking him right now if that’s what you think.”

  Alfie’s eyes are darting back and forth between us, unrest settling in his eyes. I don’t want to hurt him. Fuck, I don’t want to hurt her either, but now that I have my son, I want to be there for him.

  She leans down and whispers in his ear. He nods while staring at me. The secrets between them make me uncomfortable, so I step up. “What do I need to do to bring him home with me?”

  Hannah says, “He doesn’t have his stuff or his clothes. He just came from school.”

  “He’s in school so soon after his moth—”

  “He likes school. We thought it best if he was up for it, then he should go to play, to learn, and to be with his friends.”

  I’m at a loss. This kid, my kid has lost his mother and found me all in the span of two weeks. Am I doing the right thing? Maybe he does need Hannah and his grandmother right now. Maybe it’s too soon for me to change his life after his world has already been altered forever.

  Shit. What do I do?

  She opens the back door and directs him inside. Seeing his car seat causes me to pause. There are so many things I don’t know. Am I ready to be a dad? Am I ready to be a father to a six-year-old?

  The door is about to close, but I halt it and lean in. He reaches out and rests his hand on my shoulder. “It’s okay to be just okay, Jet.”

  The light he shines inside the darker recesses of my heart is too bright and reflects in my smile. “There’s a lot of stuff Hannah and I will be working through to make this transition as smooth and easy as possible for you. I know I speak for both of us when I say that you and your happiness are most important.”

  “So will I stay with Grandma and Hannah, or am I coming home with you?”

  He’s smart. So much smarter than I thought kids his age would be. He’s had to be, considering what he’s survived. I rub the back of his head, leaning my forehead to his. “I want you to live with me. I want to see you every day.” As much as it pains me, I put my fate in his hands. “I want to see you every day, Alfie. But for now”—and it pains me to say it—“you might have to stay with your cousin and grandmother. Is that okay?”

  He tilts his head, just the way I do, and says, “Mommy would read me books, lots of books, and sometimes, she would whisper secrets in my ear. Do you want to hear one of our secrets?”

  “Can you tell me, or is that breaking some secret code?”

  He giggles. “She told me I could tell you this secret.”

  “What is it?”

  “She told me I was lucky to have you. Are you lucky to have me?”

  Hearing that Cassie said that makes me think she didn’t think of me as the monster I’ve been led to believe, and relief courses through me. Hannah and I will need to talk more about this, but right now, I have the cutest kid wanting to hear he’s loved and wanted. It’s easy to answer him. “The luckiest, buddy. We all are, and I can’t wait to get to know everything about you.”

  “Will you show me how to play a ka-tar?”

  My smile returns. “I’d like that.”

  He looks past me at Hannah, guilt changing his features. His fingers twist in his lap, and he whispers, “I love Hannah.”

  From over my shoulder, she sniffles. “I’ll always love you, Alfie. No matter what happens or where you live, I’m not going anywhere. I’ll always be here for you.”

  I may be breaking her heart, but her kindness still shows. I’m thinking she’s rubbed off on Alfie, and for that, I can only be grateful. I lean in and kiss the top of his head. “Thanks for going easy on me, kid.”

  He giggles. “When will I see you again?”

  “Very soon. Hannah and I still have to work it out but soon. You take care of her and your grandma, okay?”

  He grabs a juice box and takes a noisy sip, then says, “I will. I’m the man of the house. My mommy told me so.”

  Every time he mentions Cassie, I can’t help but feel devastated inside—for his loss, everyone else’s, and mine. I’m struggling to be kind when I know damn well that if she hadn’t passed away, I might never have known I have a son. Hearing she said one kind thing about me to him doesn’t soothe the anger I feel inside, but for him, I’m going to have to remember the good times we had together. “Bye, Alfie.”

  “Bye.”

  I shut the door and close my eyes, needing a second to gather my thoughts and push down the sadness I feel from having to say that farewell. I keep my tone down just in case he can hear through the closed window. “He’s an amazing kid. I appreciate everything you, Cassie, and your aunt have done for him, but I’m ready to step in and be a parent to him.”

  “You say that with such conviction now, but nothing in your life is child-ready, much less your schedule. What are you going to do if you have a show?”

  “What every other single parent who works does. I’ll find help.”

  “So just like that. You have all the answers, and there’s no changing your mind even in the best interest of Alfie?”

  “There’s
no changing my mind. I’m sorry. I know you thought you’d get a different answer, but I’m not letting someone else raise my son just because it might be difficult for me.”

  “You don’t have a bed for him or know his routine,” she starts before the tears fall. “What happens when he misses his mom? You don’t even have photos of her.”

  “I don’t have a lot of things, but I have him, and we’ll get through it together. Beds, photos, everything he needs, I’ll get him. I’d like your help, but if you think it’s too much—”

  “Jet?” Her shoulders shake with a gentle sob.

  She’s beautiful dressed in tears, but never seeing her sadness again has become my mission. I wish I could make her happy, but it seems I only know how to ruin her life. “Yeah?”

  Turning her back to the car, she comes around and uses my body as a shield. I assume so Alfie can’t see or hear. “I can see how much you care for him. I can also see how happy he is to finally meet you, but I must warn you, we’re still going to fight for him.”

  “I have no doubt. I don’t know what rights I have other than biology, but I hope you understand why I want to be there for him.”

  “I don’t fully, not yet, but as his father, you have that right.”

  “So you think I’m the bad guy?”

  “I have a weakness for bad boys, or I wouldn’t have slept with you. As for the bad guy, I guess we’ll see.”

  “I don’t remember much sleeping.”

  She laughs. “There was very little.” The laughter fades with her smile. “I hope you know that this may be a battle, but it’s not a war. At the end of the day, we’ll be there for him however we can be. I just hope it’s each night. I can’t imagine going to bed without seeing his sweet face and kissing his cheek.”

  “I want to be responsible for my son. There will be changes, but hopefully, they will be what’s best for Alfie.”

  “I hope so too.” She reaches out as if she’s about to touch me, but her arm goes back to her side. “I need to go, but I’ll text you the information regarding the process to claim custody.”

  Stepping back, I take the top of the door and open it wide for her. “Thanks.” I wave once more. “See you, Alfie.”

  He waves, and the door shuts.

  My gaze and Hannah’s connect once more before she starts the car and backs up. I watch as they drive away, wondering if I should have insisted he stay?

  I did that once with her, and it didn’t work. I have a feeling it wouldn’t have worked with her regarding him today. Either way, I can’t help but feel my whole world just drove away.

  4

  Jet

  Hannah and I exchange texts twice in the next forty-eight hours. Both times regarding Alfie with her insisting he stay where he is until the family court judge hears our case next Wednesday.

  Five days.

  I think about arguing, but I’d do the same if our roles were reversed. Despite our personal feelings on the matter, she’s let him call me four times each day, including some video chat where I give him a quick tour of my small home on one, played a song for him so he can see the “ka-tar” he’s so fascinated by on another, and then introduced him to his uncles yesterday. It’s not how any of us ever envisioned meeting family, but this is where we are, and I wanted him to meet Rivers and Tulsa so he knew he had more than just me. He has a family who welcomes him with open arms and open hearts.

  I’m already learning so much about him in these calls that I get even more excited to bring him home. Speaking of home. “Star Wars or plain sheets?”

  With a huge stuffed animal in the shape of a shark in his hands, Tulsa replies, “Are there Metallica sheets?”

  “He’s six.”

  Tulsa tosses the sheets into a pile of pillows. “And your point is?”

  Rivers knocks into me when he comes from behind, grabs the discarded sheets, and puts them back on the shelf. “We were listening to Metallica at six.”

  “Not when Mom was around.” I laugh from the memory of my mom yelling at us to turn down what she called racket. Being the oldest, I have the most memories of her out of the three of us. Rivers once claimed it wasn’t fair. But neither was her death when I was only nineteen.

  While the guys goof around in the aisle of Target, I stand with pillows in one hand, gray flannel sheets in the other, and a gamut of emotions twisting in my head.

  My mom should be here. She’d know what to buy for Alfie’s room. She’d know what he needed and what was junk. She’d be able to help me. I try to brush it off because it doesn’t matter what I wish. Nothing will bring her back.

  A drunk driver made sure of that the night of Rivers’s seventeenth birthday. I find him down the aisle grabbing a mattress pad for the twin bed in my spare room, Alfie’s soon-to-be room. He carries a lot of guilt with him, guilt that’s caused more than his fair share of pain. He was a kid . . . I can’t dwell on this.

  I’m going to make sure that Alfie has a good life. I tried my best with my brothers. They’re happy and the best friends and brothers a guy could ask for, even if disorderly and sometimes embarrassing. Tulsa lands a pillow to the back of Rivers’s head just as I say, “You guys are going to get us kicked out.”

  When Rivers turns, Tulsa takes off. Rivers laughs. “He’s such a pussy.”

  “C’mon, I need help here.”

  After I throw the pile of bedding in the cart, I grab some essentials, like the seat I saw Hannah had. Of course, this came with Tulsa flirting with the girl who works in the department. He walked away with not only her number, but also a coupon for twenty percent off. It’s going to be needed. I’m wondering how we can add a gig to our already full schedule for the added expenses of raising a child.

  The trip to the store took longer than planned, and now we’re rushing to get ready for tonight. After tossing all the bags in the spare room, I jump in the shower.

  Hannah crosses my mind when I close my eyes. I lose track of time, my body hardening and demanding release when I remember how she felt pressed to the wall as the water rained down over us—the feel of her tits as I squeezed them, when I pinched the nipples, the sound of her moan echoing off the cold tile. I remember so much about her because she’s too hard to forget.

  Smart. Her beauty caught my eye. The ability she seemed to possess of seeing the real me in the lyrics that night, the person I tried to hide from others is what kept me there.

  Gorgeous inside and out. Her whole body shook, whiskey tipping over the edge of the glass when she laughed at my bad jokes. She kissed me, pulling me to her smiling lips, her happiness spilling over. Her eyes were bright, and she was playful as we ate junk food and got drunker.

  She’d been so goddamn gorgeous in that blue dress and even more stunning wrapped in my sheets with a glistening sheen of sweat from sex, kisses, and a hot summer night too long ago.

  The window was cracked open, humidity filling the room. We were drunk on each other, careless with our hearts and bodies. The way the tips of her fingers ran over my unshaven face as if it was slick as ice. She didn’t complain about the stubble or when I got up to smoke. I sat in a chair by the window, holding my cigarette through the opening, and watched her.

  My pace picks up, getting closer to coming like every other time I let Hannah devour my thoughts the way I devoured her that night.

  She’s not like the other women who’ve entangled me. Her grays held a longing for something unforeseeable by a mere bystander to her beauty like me.

  When I sobered, I started laying the foundation. With each minute that ticked by, I added a brick, building a wall to protect myself from the only person who seemed to be able to navigate my carefully constructed foundation. She perplexed me, making me want to know how she spent her time when she wasn’t caring for her family. Does she go out often? Hook up with others? Was she seeing other people? I felt like a spider caught in her web. That’s when I knew she would be the one to damage me. Would I let her?

  Yes.

  As
she sobered, her touches became rough, her patience more hurried as dawn consumed the moonlight. When I took her from behind, her pussy tightened around me. Her moans for more became louder. My name was a curse, a blessing, a sin, a saint. I became all those as she became one thing to me—my salvation.

  Could she save me? Would she be the one who could change me? Make me believe in something more than the life I was living. Would she be the one who would hurt me just to teach me the pain of having loved someone so hard that her absence could collapse me?

  One night is all we’ll ever have. She’ll torture me mentally for eternity because I’m taking what she loves most away from her. Before this situation with Alfie, she intrigued me, making me think I wanted more with her. Often. I had believed it impossible six months ago, perceiving in her eyes that she didn’t want more than one night.

  I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about her since then, even when fucking another woman.

  Our fate has now been sealed. It must be this way.

  If I could, I’d work out a way to make this better between us now. There is no way I’ll keep Alfie from his cousin and grandmother. Of all people, I know how important a mother is to a boy. What about when Hannah starts her own family?

  Fuck.

  No. Don’t think about that. Don’t think about Hannah that way at all.

  This is not about us.

  This is only about Alfie.

  Tulsa grabs a beer from the mini-fridge backstage and twists the top off. After a long pull, he says, “I think he sucks, but he’s all we’ve got.”

  “How do we live in the Live Music Capital of the World, but we can’t find a drummer who can hit basic beats?”

  He shrugs. “I can fill in again.”

  Tulsa is our backup. He learned drums before guitar, but his lazy ass hates carrying the drum kit around. He also claims chicks love when you pull out a guitar and sing to them.

 

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