by Mj Fields
I nod. “Wouldn’t want it any other way.”
“And that...” He pauses and shakes his head. “Had she not fucked up, had she not forced me to step the fuck up, he and I wouldn’t have the bond we do. And when Phoenix and I have kids, I would have been the same fucking man our father is. Jesus, he’s fucking retired and he’s not even around. I don’t want to be that man. No fucking way. Family is family, fucked up or not. So, I may someday be man enough to tell her that, or not, but you can.”
“I’m gonna marry her, Gage. I’m gonna. And she’s gonna be here with me forever.”
“No shit,” he huffs.
“Gage, I get you’re pissed at Mom—”
“Listen, brother, one fucking day at a time,” he warns.
“She was here. Drove the SUV back,” I tell him because one hundred percent means one hundred percent.
He looks up at the sky and shakes his head. “Why the fuck didn’t she just take off with Dad?”
“She was here to make sure everything went okay,” I tell him.
“She was here for you.” He points to me.
“She was here for her fuck-up of a son,” I put it out straight. “And she was here for Brand.”
He looks down and kicks up some dirt. “She put a lot of fucking weight on my shoulders.”
“She knew you could handle it.”
“Done fucking handling it. Gonna live now.” He claps my shoulder. “We’re all gonna live now.”
***
We are sitting on a blanket in front of a small campfire because there is no way in hell we can roast marshmallows in the fucking bonfire. Juliana is wrapped in my black and red flannel, sitting between my legs. My boy, he’s smiling and playing with all the kids, the Steel kids. He’s having a great time, just like we did as kids.
One fucking shitbag ruined my childhood and, in turn, it ruined all of theirs. It won’t happen to him. Won’t because he has me, he has her, and he has Gage, and his little shit, too. We would all move mountains for him, all of us.
Juliana looks back at me. “What are you thinking?”
I nod to Brandon. “I wanna be him when I grow up.”
She smiles and leans back into me, wrapping my arms around her tighter.
“God, look at him. I’m all for looking forward, being present, always will be, swear it. But I can’t help wondering what the fuck I did to deserve this.”
She looks up again. “You loved a girl. You saved her. You never stopped.” Her lips are close, and I can’t help myself. I kiss her, not giving a fuck who’s around.
“I love you.” I pull back and press my forehead to hers. “So fucking much.”
“Your dad just kissed your mom,” the little girl with long, dark hair in pigtails, who’s been following Brand around, announces.
Brand looks at us, smiling, and then he laughs.
Juliana and I laugh, too.
We sit and listen to music, the crackling of the fire, the kids laughing and playing until they finally seem like some of their giddy up has gotten up and left, leaving them moving just a little bit slower.
Watching Brand run around and laugh is going to be a new favorite thing of mine.
After a few moments, Brand comes over and plops down beside me and Juliana. “I want one s’mores, and then I think I should go to bed.”
Kid is one of a kind. Who asks to go to bed? Nature verses nurture? That’s part of his personality, the responsible part. Has to be the nurture part that he got from Gage.
“Let’s make some s’mores, then. How do you like them?” I ask, moving back before standing up.
“I like them brown, not burnt,” he tells me, standing up slowly.
I reach out and pull him the rest of the way.
“How about yours?” I ask Juliana.
She shrugs. “Never had one.”
Brand and I both look at each other, shocked.
“Well, we’re gonna have to fix that problem right quick. Let’s go.”
***
Tonight, I’m in a two-man tent with my son...and my brother. I can’t sleep. Fucking crickets are loud, but the damn frogs are deafening. Reality is, Juliana is sleeping at Gage’s. Mags’ idea. She thought Juliana would like a nice, hot bath, and she was right. When Mags mentioned it, Juliana’s face lit up as she sucked her sticky marshmallow fingers. She likes them burnt, which worked out perfect for me. I make a perfect one, Brand will be happy. I catch it on fire, Juliana will be happy. Can’t fucking lose.
“You asleep?” Gage whispers.
“Nope,” I answer.
“What are you thinking?”
“I need to get some work done. Need a bathtub, run some electrical lines down to the cabin, that kind of thing. You?”
“Thinking that one of us should be sneaking out for at least an hour. Hell, maybe we can take turns. Remember, I’m older; I go first.”
I smirk, even though he can’t see me. “Go ahead. Seriously no big deal.”
“Don’t want him to wake up and not have both of us in the same place we were when he fell asleep. I think this is a big deal to him.”
“Why?”
“First time camping in a tent.” He grunts when he sits up. “Shit happens again, we need air mattresses.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Fear of the Dark
Juliana
My cast is covered with a garbage bag as I lie in the big tub, in Brand’s room that he loves so much. I close my eyes and enjoy the much-needed soak. Outdoor showers have their benefits. The biggest is the fact that Garrett washes my body.
Sex is intense, intimate, an amazing connection with the only man I have ever loved—Garrett Falcon. What he does to my body, to my mind, to my heart, my soul...no one has ever touched me deeper. In fact, when I am with him, it seems as if no one, not one person, has ever touched me at all.
Even the first encounter, even though his demand was unconscionable at that moment, I know better now. Hell, I knew then. I knew because it was him. Had I turned and walked away, I would not have feared he would have followed and forced himself on me. He was still my Garrett. Just grown.
Sex is intense and intimate, but him bathing me is no less so.
I am happy. For the first time in nearly six years, I am living without the veil of lies.
I am safe. No one can touch me here. No one.
I am in love. I knew I was from the first time I saw him.
I keep reminding myself over and over of where I am, because fear trickles in. Fear of being alone. And although I have been alone several times, it’s creeping in on me now.
The dark; why does it play tricks on me? Why does a simple transition of the sun’s position cause fear?
For children, it’s the inability to distinguish between what’s real and what’s not, fantasy verses reality. I was not like most children; my monsters were real. They went away when Garrett came into my life. Then, when he left, when he left me and I scrambled, feeling protective over the child growing inside of me, I owned the brand I was born to, I owned that I could get by, by shutting down the idea I deserved more; the more being what he gave me then ripped away.
My eyes well with tears; tears of past sorrows, tears of joy, tears of exhaustion.
Tears make me feel vulnerable, yet I shed them.
The ground, I think of the ground and dirt, and how the fresh rain makes it more penetrable, more...vulnerable, yet it is necessary for anything to grow.
I went to my house because of the need for that vulnerability. The vulnerability to open up and let growth happen. No person deserves that unless there is love. I need to allow that for Garrett and I to become all we deserve to be for each other, for love, for Brandon.
Peter, he tried to kill me. The thought of it allows the fear that is brought on by my kind of darkness, the real monsters under the bed, not a childhood fantasy.
Fear makes me want to run out, grab Brandon from the tent, in the dark, and bring him back to the safety of the cabin, tucking
him in the safety between me and his father.
I close my eyes and think of something to calm the irrational thoughts. Brandon is between Garrett and Gage. Both men love him. Neither will allow him harm.
Then Peter enters my thoughts, and I cover my mouth, swallowing back the panic building because I was so stupid. So stupid to think he was “normal,” that he would have given me and Brandon some semblance of normal.
My God, what if Brandon had gone with me? What if Peter had shown his true colors when Brandon was with me? My body shakes with a silent sob because I know Brandon, my son, my heart, my reason for wanting more, better, saw that in him. He did, yet I was too busy trying to hide my mistakes, keep my lies covered, that I didn’t see the signs of how right Brandon was.
Fear of the dark, fear of the light, fear of anything is crippling. I will no longer allow it.
I focus my thoughts on Garrett, on Brandon, on Mags, on Gail, even on Gage, and yes, Phoenix, too. They all love him. We all love him. He is safe.
His hands are on my neck.
“You whore. You fucking whore.”
I can’t breathe, can’t fight. My head is under water, yet I still hear him.
“You fucking liar. Bleed, bitch, bleed and die.”
“I don’t want to die!”
I swallow water, my lungs filling up. I’m going to die.
Brandon. Garrett. My loves, my life.
I will fight.
I dig my nails into his hands that are around my neck. I kick, and it hurts. It hurts, but I do it. For them, for me, for us.
I gasp, trying to get air into my lungs and scream as I claw at him. “No! I will not die! I won’t die!”
“Jesus Christ, Juliana,” I hear.
It’s not Peter, but I know it is. I saw him.
“Jesus Christ.”
I close my eyes and open them again. Gage.
“Oh, my God,” I cry. “I am so...” I am unable to say anymore because I am shaking and crying and scared, and relieved and totally embarrassed.
He lifts me up, and the pain in my leg worsens. I grit my teeth together and cry out in pain.
“Fucking stop fighting. Jesus, you’re a fucking mess.”
“I know!” I yell at him. “Just put me down.”
He looks over his shoulder and yells, “Phoenix!”
“No, please, I don’t want anyone—”
“Oh, God,” I hear Phoenix whisper as she walks around from behind him and sees me.
“Towels please,” Gage says in a deep, almost pain-filled voice.
“Yes, of course,” she says then disappears.
I feel my lip quiver. “Please just—”
“Shut it down,” he interrupts.
I shake my head as I close my eyes tightly, wanting to disappear.
He lifts my legs and begins to carry me into Brand’s room.
“Fuck,” he says as he sets me on the bed. “What the fuck!”
I look down at where he is staring. My abdomen is covered in yellow and purple bruises.
“Okay,” Phoenix says as she climbs onto the other side of the bed and covers me up with a white bath towel, and then she begins to use another to wipe my face and hair. “You’re okay.”
I cover my face and try to pull my knees up to my chest. “Ouch, ouch.”
“Fuck! Fucking fuck,” Gage hisses.
“Just...don’t move,” Phoenix says in a very calm and soothing voice. “We’ll get you all dried up and dressed. Then we’ll get you to the ER so they can fix this cast.”
“I’m fine,” I say, shaking my head and wiping my tears away with the towel.
“The fuck you are,” Gage snaps.
“Hey, Gage,” Phoenix says in an almost stern voice. “She is fine. She’s going to be fine. She’s just—”
“Beat to shit!” he interrupts.
“Well, she was, but she’s fine now.” She turns back and looks at me. “Bad dream?”
I shake my head. “It was stupid.”
“What the hell is going on?” I look up to see Garrett with Brandon tucked under his arm like a football.
“Mommy?” He pulls away from Garrett and runs to the bed. Phoenix moves over as he climbs in.
“I’m okay,” I try to reassure him, but the tears are still falling.
“She fell asleep in your bathtub,” Phoenix tells him, yet she is looking at Garrett.
“My cast is a mess, though, so I think I need it fixed. What do you think?” I ask, wiping away the tears.
“I heard you scream,” Brand says, shaking a little.
“Like Phoenix said, bad dream.” I push his hair away from his eyes, needing to see them, gaining strength from them.
“Arms up.” Garrett’s voice shakes with emotion.
I lift my arms, and Brand gasps. “Mommy, what happened to your belly?”
“Jesus Christ,” Gage hisses again.
I look up and see Garrett’s eyes. Angry. So incredibly angry.
I look back at Brandon, hoping he doesn’t see the look I see. “I fell.”
Garrett shakes his head as he pulls the shirt down. “She was pushed.”
“Garrett,” I warn.
“No! No more secrets!”
Brandon jumps when Garrett yells.
“You’re okay. I’m okay-.”
“Peter pushed your mother down the stairs,” Garrett interrupts. “He kicked her—”
“Garrett, just stop. Please, just—”
“Juliana, he’s a smart boy,” Gage interrupts this time.
“He doesn’t need to know.” My lip trembles. I don’t want Brandon to know all the ugly in the world.
“I do, too, Mommy. I’m a big boy. I’m a cowboy,” he says, fighting back his own tears.
“I’m okay.” I nod. “And I know you are.”
“Just like Brandon knew Peter was an asshole,” Garrett snaps as he pushes the towel up and takes the sweatpants Phoenix hands him.
“He did,” Gage agrees.
“But you’re safe,” I tell him, never wanting him to feel this way, never.
“He hurt you?” His voice finally breaks and tears fall.
I hold him against my chest as Garrett pulls up the sweatpants.
“He tried, but your mom’s smart,” Garrett says, kissing him on the top of the head.
“And he’s in jail,” Gage says.
“And if he ever gets out,” Phoenix adds, “I’ll kick his ass.”
Brandon smiles a little to that and nods. “I’ll kick his ass, too.”
I laugh a little, like the others, and then lift his chin. “I’m fine, but you need to watch your mouth, Brand.”
“I can’t, Mommy. It’s under my nose.”
Garrett leans over, grabs the back of his head, and pulls it close, kissing it before leaning back. “Gonna take your mom to get fixed up.”
“I wanna come,” he says.
“How about you, Phoenix, and I get back to camping?” Gage interjects. “Wouldn’t want the Steels to think we chickened out.”
“I think that’s a good idea,” I tell Brandon.
“But I wanna help you.”
“In the morning, you can help by moving all their stuff up here. They can stay at the house until their house is finished up.” Gage nods at Garrett. “Your mom forgot how to take baths.”
Brandon laughs.
“We’ll think about it.”
“Don’t think, just do,” Gage tells Garrett, holding his hand out for Brandon who hesitates.
I pull him closer and whisper in his ear, “What will Bell think if she wakes up and you’re not there?”
He smiles and nods, then his smile falls. “But what about you?”
“I’ve got your dad,” I reassure him. “I’ll be fine.”
“She’ll be better than fine,” Garrett says.
“Did you save her dad? From Peter; did you save her?”
Garrett looks at me, and I nod.
“I suppose,” he says.
; “I told her I want to go with her to get your surprise, but she—”
“My surprise?” he asks Brand.
Brand looks at me with oops eyes.
I smile. “We’ll show him later tonight.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Re-Cast
Garrett
On our way back to Falcon’s Landing, I hold Juliana’s hand as she looks down at her boot cast.
“What are you thinking?” I ask.
“It’s pretty fancy,” she jokes.
I squeeze her hand. “I’m not talking about the cast, Juliana.”
“I know.” She nods and looks up at me.
“Well...?”
“Well, as he said, it’s really early.”
“Juliana...”
“He said—”
I pull the truck over to the side of the road. “It’s still positive. You’re pregnant. We’re pregnant. I know shit’s not perfect. And tonight...scary as hell hearing you scream. Brandon heard you scream. But...” I lightly put my hand on her belly, so I don’t fucking hurt her—it.
She puts her hand over mine and nods. “One day at a time.”
I try to remain calm, but I’m not fucking calm. And I’m not about to fuck this up like I did last time.
“I’m so fucking happy; I want you to know that. I’m so fucking happy that by the grace of God we are getting a chance to brand another one.” She nods as she looks down at our hands. “It’s gonna be really busy, really damn busy, but we’re going to do it.” I pause because do it right is on the tip of my tongue, and there isn’t a fucking thing wrong with Brand. “Together.”
She looks up at me and smiles.
“I swear to you, Juliana, I swear on everything that I’m never leaving you again...ever. I was wrong, so fucking wrong when I said we’ve been branded by way too many as nothings. We were never nothing. We were everything. But I was one hundred percent right when I told you brands don’t fucking go away. They stay forever. You, me, Brandon, this baby, we’re forever.”
Still smiling, she nods again.
“I love you,” I tell her as I lean in and kiss her. Then I open up the console and grab the pack of smokes that’s been in there for days. I haven’t needed them.