Fearless

by Maya Rossi

  But Eric and his family refused. When the water level bridged the top of the car and one child began shivering, the wife, Missy begged Eric to accept Brayden’s help.

  “Do you even know what you’re asking?” Erick fumed.

  “I know, dammit. But I won’t let my children die because you won’t let go of the past,” Missy snapped.

  While they argued, the first child, a boy of thirteen jumped from the car into the water. Before his parents knew what he was about, he was at Brayden’s side.

  “What do you think you’re doing? Come here, Peter!” Eric urged.

  “We will all die!” Peter cried. “You’ve told me not to fight in class and you fight Mr Marshall every time he’s in town.”

  With a cry of anguish, Missy gathered her family and led them to the truck. Grim and silent, Eric followed.

  The tension in the car was so thick it suffocated. Eric wasn’t speaking to his wife, he stared out the window the whole time. They met other families fighting to stay alive on their way home. Like Eric they refused the offer of help.

  After dropping off Eric and his family, Brayden wanted help the others. Within an hour, the mansion didn’t feel so roomy with most of the neighbors occupying the rooms and living room. Armed with blankets and warm socks, Ava was on her way to the children when the lights went out. “Dammit.”

  “I wondered when that would happen,” Missy whispered. “Some children have a cold.”

  “Jack will get the back-up generator running in a bit,” Brayden said.

  Eric flushed, keeping his eyes on the ground, he muttered a grudging thank you.

  “Thank Ava,” Brayden shrugged. “She insisted she could convince you to get in the truck.”

  “The water ran over the shed, man,” Jack announced, panting from running over. “Don’t we have enough blankets?”

  Ava shook her head. “Plus, some kids have caught the cold.”

  “Including Max,” Gladys said, making her way to where they huddled.

  Ava dropped the blankets and ran to her son. Heart beating double time, she tried to get him out of his clothes but her hand shook badly. Brayden got close.

  “Take a deep breath, don’t panic. He’s not dying, is he?”

  She turned on him, expression fierce. “Hell no!”

  “Then don’t scare him or the kids,” he said.

  He had a slight fever, a light sheen of sweat coating his small defenceless body. Ava took off his clothes and bathe him again. Thirty minutes later, Max was on his stomach, ass in the air fast asleep. Brayden popped into their room. “Hey.”

  Ava pushed her hair off her face. “Hey. Crazy day, huh?”

  “How’s he doing?”

  “Great.” She hesitated. “Want to see?”

  Brayden shuffled his feet. He shuffled his feet like a four year old. “I’ll take your word for it.”

  Chapter twenty-four

  Raised in silence and used to his own company, he would never get used to having so many people in his house. Though the rain finally stopped, the families needed help cleaning out their homes. Added to that, many would have to start over after losing so much.

  “If you really want to help,” Jack rubbed his mouth with his finger, “don’t make individual anonymous donations, create a foundation.”

  “I’m not going through that AGAIN.”

  “Through what? BMF was successful, it was just that asshole Garth who almost ruined things.”

  Brayden arched an eyebrow. “Almost. He hasn’t been formally charged.”

  “Yes, almost. BMF is still running smoothly under Luke. I say create a small foundation, no one understands that shit better than you. Have the whole town involved. I hear they suffered worse losses from the flash flood last year. Get them involved and they’ll appreciate it better.”

  His private line rang. Jack glanced at it and rose. “And that’s my cue. I suggest using Eric and his wife as a base point for the foundation. Hell, you don’t even have to do anything.”

  After the door closed behind Jack, Brayden picked the phone. “Hello.”

  “Your father is up for parole.”

  “What?”

  “They scheduled the hearing for three months from now.”

  “Look,” Brayden rubbed at the headache threatening to blow out his brains, “he’s a serial killer, responsible for the death of fifteen women,. How the hell can he be up for parole?”

  “Calm down--”

  “Don’t tell me to calm down. I will do everything in my power to make sure--”

  “I heard you’ve been hiding out on a farm these days. How are you going to do anything from there?”

  “You’ll be surprised,” Brayden snapped.

  The lawyer sighed. “I was just shitting you. And would you have given away your identity, taken that risk after many years of successfully keeping out of your father’s business, you would have taken that risk because he came up for parole?”

  “People I grew up with, locals who should be my number one fans sneer and turn away when I walk past because some of them were his victims. Yes, I would have taken that risk not to have another death on my conscience.”

  “Well, it’s just for show, the parole hearing I mean. He has no chance and frankly I don’t think Sidwell wants to be let out. He’s….different.”

  “I don’t care,” Brayden spat.

  “I know you don’t, but he still wants to see you. I swear, he’s a different man--”

  His heart seemed to crumble inside his chest. The pain so paralyzing, Brayden dropped into his seat with a slight thud. “It’s in the blood, I should know. He’s still the same.”

  “Can you at least come see--”

  “The answer’s no.”

  The news threatening to choke the life out of him. Brayden walked out of his home office to the front door. He needed air. Before he would make good on his escape, Ava found him.

  “Hey. We got a lot done today.”

  “Good for you.”

  She hitched the baby up on her hip, rushing to keep pace with him. Eager to shake her off, Brayden took the stairs down two at a time. The baby made an odd sound, like a laugh or an insect chattering and an old fear gripped Brayden so he stopped. Ava ran into him and kind of bounced off his frame. Next thing he knew, she flailed and stumbled.

  Heart somewhere in the spot where his throat ought to be, Brayden grappled for and caught Ava’s arm, just about breaking her fall. He dragged her back to her feet.

  “Max!” Ava cried.

  The baby slipped from her hands. Brayden went cold all over. He pushed the screaming Ava onto the top stair and dove for Max. Somehow, he ended up with the baby in his arms.

  The smell of baby powder and innocence hit him. The baby’s weight was like cribton in his arms, fragile, delicate and in need of protection. Their eyes met. The baby seemed shocked, staring up at him with wide eyes. Brayden’s heart thudded so loudly he was sure the baby could hear it.

  What if he did something to the baby? What if the baby ended up like Benjamin because of him? The baby must have sensed something was amiss because it opened its mouth wide and howled his outrage. Brayden glanced at their guests watching from the bottom stair and saw the judgement in their eyes.

  “I hurt him,” he whispered into the baby’s red face.

  They knew what he was and now they witnessed what he had almost done. He was just like his father.

  He pushed Max into Ava’s arms and ran outside. Jack pushed forward. “Dammit, it wasn’t your fault.”

  “It wasn’t your fault,” Ava repeated later that night.

  “How’s the baby?” he asked.

  “His name’s Max and he’s doing fine. I think he was just shocked, not really in pain.”

  Brayden shook his head. “Babies are delicate, one minute you think they’re fine and the next they’re dead.”

  Ava laughed, the joyful sound wrapping around him like old times. “Who told you that, I bet it’s one of your bachelor
type friends who never saw a baby in their lives--”

  “My mother said that.”

  She paused, searching his eyes for what? “At least, now you know she was lying.” Ava bit her lip, looking vulnerable suddenly. “Even if something happened, it would have been nobody’s fault.”

  Brayden barked a harsh laugh. “Now, that’s not true. It’s always someone’s fault. I was six years old when I learned that lesson, nine when I really understood what mother was trying to say.”

  I did the question a hundred times, careful to make sure the letters and numbers stayed the same. I hated it when mom was angry with me. I didn’t sleep through the night either, mom said I didn’t deserve to because I was just like that. On my knees I swayed all night, apologizing a hundred times for the failed grades. It was just a single score, but I had done bad I knew it.

  At the camp, I sat quietly, waiting and watching in case mom needed anything. I worked hard for her. Fetching and cleaning even before she showed she needed my help.

  Dad was furious. “Why’re you so jumpy, sit the hell down!”

  As father stomped away, leaving his food all over the place. Mom glared at me. “Can’t you do anything right?”

  I folded my arms across my chest, feeling miserable. I had done nothing; I wanted to scream but mom wouldn’t listen.

  “Why do you spoil everything? Do you want to be like your father? Be normal for God’s sake. Don’t make him angry.”

  “I’m sorry, mother.”

  When I tried to help with the cleanup, she screamed and I dropped it.

  That was two sins on the trot. I didn’t sleep. I knelt by my mother’s side, praying for an opportunity to redeem myself and be forgiven.

  I begged all night, but she only got angrier. In the morning, she walked outside silently to prepare breakfast. I followed, eager to do anything to redeem myself. That was when we ran into the bear eating the remains of dad’s abandoned breakfast from yesterday.

  Mom whimpered in fear and the bear stalked close. I didn’t think; I grabbed the gun propped against our tent, aimed and shot like dad taught me.

  In the aftermath, there was complete silence. I looked to my mother, relieved at having done this one thing for her. She slapped me hard across the face. “Blood will always tell, you’re just like your father.”

  Eyes stinging with tears, I stood with the gun in my hands, watching numbly as my mom went on and on. Dad came stumbling from the bushes and stopped at the sight of the dead bear. He glanced from me to the bear and the gun and back again.

  He whooped and cried and laughed. He carried me for the first time that I could recall, screaming, “This is my son.”

  “Yes,” mom agreed, “he’s indeed your son.”

  But her eyes remained chips of ice and she never said a word as we drove home. For two weeks she didn’t speak to me. Father showered me with praises and even bought me ice cream. I couldn’t rejoice because it didn’t escape my little brain that he was happy with me because I killed something.

  “That’s awful.” Ava scrambled up to her knees on the bed to wrap her arms around him tight. “She had no right to say those things to you. Why didn’t your father stop her? Where’s he, who’s he?”

  “My father’s dead. He wasn’t a good man.”

  Chapter twenty-five

  “I’m sorry your mother was awful,” Ava murmured brushing a hand over his thigh.

  Brayden drew back, eyebrows drawn in a playful frown. “I’m not a baby stop that back tapping thing.”

  “I was totally doing that,” Ava laughed. “Having awful parents is no excuse for bad behaviour. We’re who we are.”

  He reached for her then, drawing a light hand over her cheekbones. “Are you sure about that?”

  She nodded vigorously. “My mother was a drug addict and here am I.”

  “In my bed,” he whispered, drawing closer.

  His actions were slow and deliberate, giving her more than enough time to pull away. Ava’s heart beat faster in anticipation. To feel Brayden’s touch after all these time, the idea on its own was arousing. She placed a hand on his thigh and leaned forward. “You said this wouldn’t happen.”

  He brushed a hand over her hair, smiling ruefully. “I will always want you even if I shouldn’t.”

  Ava nodded vigorously. “You should, totally.”

  “Totally, huh?” he asked, the words of his mouth an aphrodisiac as they stroked her lips, sending fire through her bloodstream.

  Would he open up more after they made love? Was there any chance sleeping with Brayden would bridge the gap between them and make them a family? A thousand thoughts ran through Ava’s mind at top speed as she panted against his mouth, waiting for his kiss.

  Brayden hesitated. Ava slipped her hand around his neck. She dove her fingers into his hair, enjoying the strands brushing through her fingers. “What?”

  With a sigh, he pressed his forehead against hers. “I know what you’re thinking.”

  “You left boxing to become a psychic or something?”

  “You think sex--”

  “Making love--”

  “With me will change my mind about the baby and you.”

  Ava sputtered. This time she was the one who tried to pull away. But Brayden caught her hair in one powerful fist, pulling her forward. “Don’t go.”

  “You’re being insulting.”

  “But am right, aren’t I?”

  “I hope we can be closer,” her voice broke, “I still love you, Brayden. Am I being selfish for wanting more?”

  “No,” he pressed a kiss to her forehead and the tip of her nose. “With you, I already have more.”

  She climbed into his lap, straddling his thigh. As she looked into his dear face and tortured eyes, Ava thought like her heart would burst from the love she had for him. “I love you, Brayden. We can have more.”

  He shook his head. “I have told you.” Brayden’s lips thinned with displeasure. “If that’s why you would sleep with me--”

  Half playfully, half seriously, she smacked his shoulders. “I said I hoped, I didn’t say it was contingent on whatever. I’m not sleeping with you now to hold you at gunpoint tomorrow to become Max’s father. That’s your choice.”

  “If you have to walk away tomorrow, you would?”

  Ava swallowed down her fear and nodded. It was the hardest thing she had ever done. “But I must point out that you would be the one to walk away, not me. I’m here for as long as you need me.”

  “You have too much faith in me, Ava.”

  Shame at her past actions came back to taunt her. “Not nearly enough, the past has proven.” She rubbed a hand down his chest and over his shoulders. “If my word isn’t enough, you still hold the record for the handsomest man I’ve ever seen and it’s been a while for me.” She lowered her eyes. “Since you.”

  Brayden chortled, jolting her. He dropped on the bed, shaking with laughter. “I’ve forgotten how much you make me laugh.”

  “I was having a moment there, and you ruined it,” Ava said, trying not to smile.

  “Wait, are you ashamed of being celibate for one year? Just one year, that’s why you were lowering your eyes and shit?”

  “When did you start cursing? I used to tell Robin that’s a major plus with you. No one would better watch my language around our son than you.”

  The laughter ceased immediately. “How’s Robin? I always picture her pregnant.”

  “Wow, she will tear you in half for that.”

  He pulled her to lie atop him. Ava snuggled close, grateful for another chance to be so close to the man she loved. “She’s still fierce, huh?”

  “Yeah,” Ava answered. She placed a hand on his chest, listening to his breathing.

  “What of Jami?”

  “With Robin, sorry, I couldn’t bring him along for the trip.”

  “So, uh, how did you look pregnant?” His voice sounded strangled. “Did your face get pimples and swollen?”

  She hugg
ed him close before answering. “Max is the easiest baby. And I’m not being biased, everyone says so. You see how he sleeps all night, at least most nights? It’s unusual. My pregnancy was like that, so smooth I didn’t even know I was pregnant until I came down with what I thought was the flu.”

  “He’s a camper, yeah?”