by Fields, MJ
I roll over and push back against his incredibly muscular body and tighten his arms around me. I loved his arms then, and now...God how they have changed. I rub my hands up and down the hard muscles and soft skin.
“Missed holding you,” he says on a yawn. “Don’t wanna ever miss you again.”
Chapter Twenty
Spilled
Garrett
The sun is beating down on me through the window. I smell her. Smells so fucking good. I reach over to touch her, and again, she’s not fucking there. I sit up in bed, pissed because I asked. I asked, and she denied me again.
I get up and look around, seeing the condom, the one I didn’t use, on the pillow where her head was.
Dick move, but I don’t fucking care. I want to feel her, not a fucking rubber, and if I knock her up again, so what? So fucking what? I want to give her that. Give it to Brandon, too.
I walk outside bare-assed and start the outdoor shower. Standing under the cold water, I wait for it to warm up as I run a bar of soap over my body. Never does heat up.
I am going to fix this place up nice. Going to have a home for them. Both of them. Hell, I’m hoping she has one cooking now, too.
“Fucking Juliana,” I remark as I rinse off.
I reach for a towel and realize I forgot one in my pissed off mood. Fuck it.
I walk around and see my truck, yet the SUV is gone. That makes me fucking smile. She likes it. Then I run in the house, dripping wet, and grab a towel off the shelf.
After drying off, I throw on a pair of jeans and grab a tee-shirt out of the clean clothes basket, the one that’s getting emptier and emptier. I guess I need to do some fucking laundry.
I shove a bunch of clothes and towels into the basket and walk out the door to the truck. When I start it up, I see the clock. Ten in the fucking morning, meaning the day’s already half-gone. Fucking never sleep this much. Never.
I suppose it’s because I’m here, she’s here, and Brandon, our son, who told me he loved me last night, is here.
Driving up the road to Falcon’s Landing, I get a crazy fucking idea to see if I can buyout my parents and buy or rent some land off of Gage’s to start Falcon’s Ranch. It would bring more campers in if they had some activities, and who the fuck doesn’t love horses? Idiots, that’s who.
I throw the truck in park and get out. Brand sprints out, laughing, with Phoenix close behind.
“Morning, Dad. Phoenix and I are gonna get the cabins ready for campers. One week, and we have”— he pauses and looks at Phoenix who holds up five fingers— “five families coming to camp.”
“Cool, bud. Let me know if you need some help.” I nod.
“When we get done, can we go get dirt?” he asks.
“Sure. I’ll just go see what your mom is up to, and then—”
“She left,” he says, his eyes showing a hint of sadness.
“Come again?”
“She went back to her house, said she’d be back soon.” He shrugs, but looks like he doesn’t believe it.
I fucking do. I will drag her ass back. She will be fucking here. Of course I don’t tell him that.
“Then she will, Brand, she will.”
“Brand, you can go help your dad now if you want. This is gonna be an all-day project.” Phoenix reaches for the bucket.
“No, no, you go ahead,” I tell him. “Might not even be able to get dirt today. I’ll call the quarry and find out.”
“You’ll come get me if you go, though, right?”
I nod. “Sure thing.”
He starts to walk away, when I call out, “Hey, Brand, can I get a hug?”
He grins and nods. Then he runs up, and I scoop him up in my arms.
“I love you, Brand.”
“I love you, too,” he says quietly.
I wait until he’s far enough away that when I flip the fuck out on the phone, he won’t hear it.
Then...Then I remember I don’t know her fucking number, so I quickly walk inside and into Gage’s office.
“I need Juliana’s number,” I snarl.
He shakes his head. “She left a few hours—”
“I fucking know that. I need her damn number,” I snap.
He locks his jaw shut, and I know he’s pissed when he grabs his phone and scrolls through his contacts, taking his sweet damn time.
“I’m gonna text you her contact information. But, Garrett, this is typical Juliana. Don’t think for a minute—”
“You have no clue who she is. None. I fucking love her. Always have. Stayed the fuck away for her, for him, and for you. You dragged me back, and I cannot thank you enough for all you have done—the forgiveness the...what-the-fuck-ever.” I stop when my phone chimes.
I open the message and hit call.
It rings, and I wait for her to pick up. She doesn’t, and it goes to voicemail.
“She’s probably reading a magazine,” he makes a jab at her.
“She just might fucking be. Parenting, nursing, horse shit—she’s trying to learn the shit she wasn’t taught.”
I call her again and again. It just goes to voicemail.
“Fuck.”
“Maybe she needs a magazine to teach her how to use the phone?” he quips.
“Maybe you need to shut the fuck up,” I snap at him.
“What are my boys troubled over this morning?”
I look up as Mags uses her cane to shuffle into the room.
“He’s an asshole,” I say at the same time he says, “He’s an idiot.”
Mags laughs. “Well, here we are, all back to normal, huh?”
“Yeah,” I say, typing out a message.
“Now, what started this issue?” Mags sits down.
“Juliana left this morning. Apparently, Garrett didn’t get a goodbye before she drove off in her new vehicle.”
I look up as I push send. “That’s none of your fucking business. She needs a damn vehicle. What if she had to take Brand to the hospital? A doctor’s appointment?”
“Well, three years ago, she came home in a taxi because she misplaced her brand-new vehicle. And after that, she never took Brand to another fucking appointment. We—Mags and I—handled it,” he says through his teeth.
I can’t help snickering.
“It’s not fucking funny, Garrett. She’s a fucking—”
“I lost a vehicle, asshole. That’s why I’m laughing.” I shake my head. “People change.”
“In two weeks, you think you’ve changed? You think you should be trusted to just—”
“Look me in the eyes and tell me if you see a fucking man or a little abused boy?”
“A what?” Mags asks.
Gage closes his eyes.
“Hey, Mags, remember what a fucking joke I was? What a moody fucking asshole I was? How I was the worst of the three, and how Gage shit gold? I mean shits, right?” I look at Gage.
Gage stands up. “Jesus Christ, Garrett, shut the fuck up.”
“No, fuck that. You’re all looking at me like I’m gonna fuck up again. Like I’m gonna go back to who I was six years ago. Well, Mags”—I turn and look at her—”from the age of ten until I was twelve, I had a dick shoved in my mouth and my ass by fucking hired help. That kinda makes you a moody asshole.” I pause and laugh. “Sore asshole, too, if I remember correctly.”
“Oh, my God.” Mags covers her mouth. “Oh, my dear God.”
For a moment, I regret my words. Will she look at me differently?
No. No, fuck that. This is done. No more secrets.
“Yeah, he wasn’t there, so I just kept getting fucked.” I laugh again. Laughing helps. Fuck, it feels good.
Gage sits down next to Mags. Shit, I should have eased into this.
“He’s okay now. He is, Mags. And—”
“You knew?” she gasps.
“Yeah, he knew.” I force a laugh. “He tried to stop it. Well, he did stop it, right, Gage?”
“Yes,” he hisses.
“Does Gail—”
Mags begins, and I know damn well she would be hurt if Mom knew and she didn’t.
“No,” both Gage and I answer.
“Does Gray?” Her voice cracks.
“He does now,” Gage answers, nodding.
I really want to be more help here, talk this shit out, but I need to hear from Juliana. I keep watching my screen, waiting for her to reply. She hasn’t.
“Garrett?” Mags sobs, regaining my attention.
I walk over and sit down on the other side of her. “I’m good, Mags. I’m fine.”
“How could you be?” she cries.
Now I feel like a dick, but I tell her like it is, knowing she will understand. “Took something worse to make it seem not so bad.”
She closes her eyes and swallows hard. “How...? How are you...? How are any of you okay?”
Shit, she doesn’t understand.
“He’s dead,” Gage says, sitting back.
When she looks at him, he looks down.
“Gage, how did he die?” she asks.
Fuck, now he’s getting the inquisition. My bad.
“Fell off a ladder and hit his head on a hammer,” I answer for him.
“The man whose family went after the company in Portugal?” she asks, piecing it together.
“He’s dead, Mags. It’s over. I’m over it.” I give her a hug.
She looks back at Gage. “What did you have to do with it?”
“I confronted him. He told me to mind my own fucking business—” He stops and looks away from her, but Mags grabs his chin and makes him face her.
“And...?”
Gage shakes his head and smirks. Fucking smirks. “You’re not gonna leave this alone, are you?”
“Not a chance.”
“He fell off a ladder and hit his head on a hammer,” I repeat as I type out another message.
Where the fuck are you? I tap the phone to my head.
“And I saw it happen.”
I look up as Gray walks into the room.
“Oh, my God, Grayson. You, too?” Mags covers her mouth.
“No, he didn’t touch me. Just Garrett,” he says.
“My ass always was the cutest,” I joke, making fun of the situation that’s not fucking funny. Oddly, the more I talk about it, the better it feels.
When no one says anything, I look up. They are all looking at me with wide eyes, waiting for me to flip out.
Gray is the first to laugh, then Gage, and then Mags just shakes her head.
She looks at Gray. “You. You tell me what happened, or I’ll drag you into the kitchen by your ear and make you.”
“Mags, do you know what it’s like to be the fat one in the family?” Gray asks.
“Only way to shut you up was to feed you. Was also the only way to get you to spill the beans.” Mags laughs as she wipes a tear from her cheek.
I chuckle. “Remember that story about the old lady who swallowed a fly?”
Mags pats my knee. “Of course I do.”
“Well, I got ass-raped by a man.” I shrug then point to Gage. “You’re up.”
“I caught him and Garrett begged me not to tell, but I had to do something—he’s my fucking brother,” Gage snaps.
“I stole a box of chocolate and was hiding under a truck, when Gage came in and chucked a rock at his head,” Gray says.
“Then the cops came and said he hit his head on a hammer,” I end the story.
Everyone is silent, all of us, until Mags says, “Well, I hope you learned your lessons from all that.”
Gray smiles. “Not to steal chocolate?”
“Not to throw rocks in barns?” Gage smirks.
“Not to have such a cute, little ass?” I add.
“None of you are right.” Mags shakes her head. “The lesson is: don’t you ever stop being there for each other. Ever. No matter what. Because, even if it takes years to get through something”—her voice cracks—”something unimaginable, you three are brothers...always.”
“Forever Steel,” Gray says.
I laugh. “Wrong family, dipshit.”
“I always liked them better than the two of you,” Gray says on a chuckle.
Gage smirks. “Me, too.”
I look up at Mags. “See, Mags? I’m the good one. I never liked the Steels better.” Mags reaches up and smooths a hand down my face. “I didn’t like anyone, not until her.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Pain
Juliana
I crouch down and cover my ears when he starts banging on the door again.
“Open the fucking door, you little whore!”
“Please, Peter, please just leave. I promise I won’t call the police, just—”
“Fuck you,” he slurs.
Stay awake, I repeat over and over in my head as I rock back and forth. Stay awake.
A loud kick forces me to stiffen. My entire body hurts.
“He’s calling you! The fucking piece of shit is calling you!”
Tell him I love him, I want to scream. I’m so angry that I didn’t say it back, and now...what if I never get the chance?
“The man who knocked you up and left you! He’s calling you! Why, Juliana? Why did you do this to us?” Now he’s crying. “I was going to marry you.”
A wave of nausea rolls through my stomach at the thought of what life would have been like for me, for Brandon. I cover my mouth as a sob escapes, thinking I may never see him again. My son. My little man. My boy.
Is that what yesterday was? I ask the question to myself, to God, to the universe. Was I given the best day of my life because today is the day I am going to die?
I put more pressure on the towel I have wrapped around my leg, where the bone is sticking out from when he pushed me down the stairs.
The bleeding is slowing. It is, I repeat in my head.
“I was going to marry a whore!” Now he laughs.
God, help me. Help me get the hell out of here.
“He fucking messaged you!” he yells. “My first love. My only fucking love. Always mine. Forever mine. Come back to me, Juliana,” he mocks the message Garrett sent me. “He’s pathetic.” Peter laughs manically. “Did you tell him you love him, too?”
“No,” I croak out the truth.
He’s quiet.
I’m tired. I’m sleepy. I’m bleeding.
“You did. You did, too!” he yells. “I know you love me; you told me you did.” He pauses. “In your eyes, I saw it,” he again reads Garrett messages. “Did your eyes tell him that? Did they?”
“No!” I cry out in frustration and pain.
“Open the door, Juliana. Open the door, and I’ll take you to the hospital,” he pleads. “You can tell them you fell. We can fix this.”
“Fuck you!” I snap.
“That’s fine, you bitch. Stay in there. Bleed to death for all I care.”
My eyes grow heavy, and I lean my head back against the door.
“Let me make this right,” he says. “Let me be your last love.”
I wake to the sound of a drill.
“She’s against the door,” I hear cried out and look up.
“Gail?” I see her in the window.
“Juliana, can you move, sweetheart? Can you move so Garrett can get in the door without hurting you?”
I close my eyes. “No.”
“Garrett!” she yells. “You need to get in there now, son. Right now!”
“I’m fucking trying!” I hear his panicked voice and smile, but it hurts.
Then I hear a big crunch and feel a cool breeze against my back.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, baby.” I feel him kissing my cheek. “Call the fucking ambulance!”
“I did, I did!” I swear I hear Gail crying.
“Bad?” I ask.
“No, baby, not bad.” The way he says it, I know he’s lying.
“Love you,” I tell him.
“I know. I know, dammit. Juliana, open your eyes. I wanna see them. I wanna see those words,” he begs
softly.
“Peter,” I force out before I start to fall back to sleep.
“He’ll pay. I’m gonna kill him!” he snaps.
I wake up to the sound of a radio squawking.
“Shut that fucking thing off.” It’s Garrett.
“You want to know when we catch him or not, Mr. Falcon?”
“Won’t be too hard to miss. Fucker looks like a unicorn,” he snarls.
“You do know he’ll probably press charges for you assaulting him,” the other voice in the room states.
“I head-butted the shit stain. I should have broken him in half,” Garrett hisses.
“That’s enough, son.” It’s Gail.
“Do you, by any chance, know Gage Falcon?” the male voice asks.
“Yeah, I do. Why?” Garrett’s irritation is heightened.
“Good, man. I’ve known him for years,” the man says.
“Your name?” Gail asks.
“Nickolas DeAngelo,” he answers.
“Aw, yes,” she says.
“Could you two shut the fuck up?” Garrett snaps.
“Manners,” Gail scolds him.
“Please shut the fuck up,” he says. Then, “She’s smiling. I think she’s smiling. Mom, is she smiling?” his voice is rising, like Brandon’s when he gets excited.
“I think she is,” Gail says softly.
“I would appreciate it if, when she does open her eyes, you allow me to get the name of the person responsible so that I can write up the report and get this handled swiftly.”
“Give the fucker to me, and I’ll swiftly kick his ass off the hospital roof,” Garrett snaps.
“What he means, Detective DeAngelo, is yes.”
I clear my throat. “Peter Vinkle.”
“Are you awake, Mrs. Falcon?”
I force my eyes open and look at Garrett. “I’m sorry.”
“I know, baby, I know,” he says as a tear rolls down his cheek. I lift my hand to wipe it away, but it hurts really bad.
“Don’t move, Juliana. Don’t, okay?” Garrett’s eyes plead with his words.
“Okay.” I begin to close my eyes again.
“Mrs. Falcon, can you tell me the name of the person who attacked you?”
“For fuck’s sake, she just did.”
“Peter Vinkle. He was supposed to be at work. I came home to get some picture books and movies on my SD cards. While I was walking down the attic ladder, he grabbed my foot.” I pause, silently crying, because doing it out loud hurts so much.