by K. C. Lynn
He starts to walk away. “Oh and one more thing.” I turn back to him. “The acreage down the road from our house is for sale.” My eyes narrow in confusion, wondering why he’s telling me this. He shrugs. “Just in case you wanted to know. It’s a decent size place. Lots of room.” With a not so subtle smirk he walks out.
Turning back around, I drop my head in my hands again and wallow in my turmoil, until I hear someone enter a minute later.
“Holy shit!” I glance back to see Christopher standing not far behind me; his eyes wide with shock as he stares at my mangled back. I let him look for a second before I slowly stand and throw on my shirt.
“What the hell happened?” As soon as he asks the question he quickly shakes his head. “Sorry, never mind. It isn’t my business.”
“It happened in Iraq.” I wait to see if he knows what I’m talking about. I don’t know what Faith has told him, but it’s obvious he knows something.
“Faith?” I nod in confirmation and his eyes narrow as he gets a hard look that I know so well. “They hurt her too?” I don’t respond but let him see the truth in my eyes. “Are they dead?”
“Yes,” I answer honestly.
He nods, seeming happy about that fact. Hell, the kid is more like me than I thought.
“So what am I going to be doing here?” he asks, dropping his gaze and kicking at the ground.
“You’re going to come in everyday after school for three hours. You will clean the locker rooms, make sure the equipment stays clean and sanitized.” He rolls his eyes but I don’t let his attitude deter me. “And if you do everything we ask, without any attitude, I will let you into the ring for the last hour.”
His gaze shoots to mine, his eyes wide and hopeful. “What do you mean? Like you will teach me how to fight?”
I shrug. “If you want me to.”
“Hell yeah I do.”
I nod, knowing that would be his answer. “There will be some conditions first.”
“Like what?” he asks suspiciously.
“Like, the point of it isn’t so you can go and beat the shit out of whoever you want. It’s for you to learn how to control your temper while taking someone down fast and effectively. I’m still really pissed about Faith’s face, all because you lost control, and if it happens again I’m going to kick your ass for it.”
He drops his gaze guiltily. “I know. I didn’t mean for her to get hurt. I would never want that to happen to her. But the guy deserved it…”
“Why? Because he said a bunch of bullshit words to hurt your feelings?” He glares at me, but before he can give me attitude I continue, “Look, there will be times in life where you will need to use your fists, but you have to pick and choose your battles, and having your feelings hurt isn’t one of them.”
He grunts. “Then what is considered warranted?”
“Well for one, if they come at you, fists flying, then you take them down fast and effectively, out of self-defense. Once they’re down that’s it, you leave it alone. Another one would be to protect the people you care about, like your sister or even Faith for that matter. If it comes down to your fists or their safety then you use your fists. But you do not use them because some asshole hurt your feelings. He’s provoking you on purpose, and you will be the one to suffer the consequences, not him, or someone else will suffer, like Faith. And as I said, if that happens again, kid, I’m going to be much more pissed. If you abuse the things I teach you then it stops. Got it?”
He nods, “Yeah, I got it.”
“Good.”
“How did you learn to fight anyway, the Navy?”
“Most of my skills came from the Navy but I also knew how to take care of myself before then.” He waits for me to elaborate so I decide to tell him. “I had an old man like yours. Thankfully, he died when I was young, but my mother still dated assholes.”
He drops his head and shifts uncomfortably. “Well at least your mother stuck around.” I watch his jaw clench, and it’s easy to tell he resents the hell out of his mom for leaving.
“Take it from me, kid, sometimes you’re better off without them.”
Turning around, I close up my locker when I hear him clear his throat. “Can I ask you something else?”
Something in his tone has me turning back to him and I wait for him to ask.
“What are you doing with Faith?” I tense with surprise, not expecting that question. “I mean it’s obvious you guys are more than friends, and it’s even more obvious she cares a lot about you. So I want to know what your intentions are with her.”
I watch him for moment as suspicion rears its ugly head. “What does it matter to you?” Shit, please don’t tell me the kid has some kind of fucking crush on her.
He rolls his eyes, as he’s able to guess where my thoughts are. “Relax, it’s nothing like that.”
I relax instantly. Thank fuck, because I’m not sure how I would have dealt with that. I remain silent and wait for him to explain, which he does. “She’s done a lot for both my sister and me. And like I already said, it’s clear she cares a lot about you, I don’t want to see her get hurt. If anyone does hurt her, I’ll kick their ass. Even if it’s yours.”
I have to give the kid credit; he has balls. Normally, I would tell any person who asked me this to mind their own fucking business, but since the kid is living with her and a part of her life now, I feel like it’s fair for him to ask. “Don’t worry, the reason I’m dragging my ass is because I don’t want to hurt her any more than you want me to.”
“Then make sure you don’t. It’s not hard.”
I quirk a brow, thinking he seems a little more concerned about this than he should be.
He looks away and shrugs. “She’s the only one who has ever given a shit about me, you know?”
Another thing he and I have in common. “Actually yeah, kid, I know exactly what you’re talking about.” Walking over to him now, I clap him on the shoulder, “Come on. I’ll show you where you’re going to start.”
After taking him on a tour and introducing him to some of the fighters, I get him started in the public locker room then head into my office to do some paperwork.
A while later I walk back out to check on him and stop mid-stride when I hear my name being squealed, “Tade!”
I look over to the entrance and see a little girl running over to me as fast as her legs can take her. She sounds like Ruth Jean, but she looks nothing like her. I catch her as she catapults herself at me, and hold her up in the air at arm’s length while I look her over. She’s wearing brand new clothes that are clean and fit her properly. She has on a new pair of glasses that actually fit her face, and showcase the prettiest and biggest blue eyes I’ve ever seen. Her long, light brown hair is clean and cut nicely around her shoulders. But the new item of clothing I notice the most, and the one thing that has something shifting in my chest, is the goddamn black beanie she’s wearing on her head. It’s an exact replica of mine except smaller.
“Who are you?” I ask, once some of the shock wears off.
She giggles, “It’s Wuf Jean, ya silwy. I got a mateover. And wook,” she points to her beanie, “I asked Faif to get me a matching hat wike you. Now we awe twins!” she announces excitedly. “Do ya wike it?”
I stare at her for a second, having a hard time finding my voice. “Yeah.” I have to stop and clear my throat when I hear how gruff it sounds. “You look good, kid. Like you always did, except now you have a killer smile to match it.” Which is true. You can see a difference in her confidence from the transformation.
Her smile spreads before she throws her arms around my neck tightly. “Tanks, big guy.”
I don’t hesitate to hug her back, but for some reason I can’t find my voice again. I look up at Red, the other girl who makes me feel things I never thought I could, and see her smiling at us. Her long, red hair is up in some kind of messy knot on her head, that’s sexy as hell, and displays her slender neck that I want more than anything to run my mouth down
. My eyes blatantly travel down the rest of her, taking in her small, lithe body that’s covered by a jean skirt and a tight, white tank top that has a thick, brown belt hanging low on her hips. When my gaze lands on her brown cowgirl boots, my semi-erect cock turns painfully hard. Jesus, she is fucking beautiful.
My eyes make it back up to her bright green ones to see a knowing smile. I stare at her and let her see exactly what I’m thinking, which has her cheeks turning pink. Fuck, I want to see just how far down that blush of hers goes. I’ll bet it…
“And guess what else?”
The kid snaps me back into reality and I suddenly feel uncomfortable holding her after what I was just thinking about. Christ, I need to get a fucking grip.
“What’s that?” I feel like a jackass at how rough my voice sounds.
“I have a new name!” she tells me excitedly.
I quirk my brow at her then look at Faith. “Not a new name exactly,” she explains with a smile. “We are going to keep her original name because it’s unique and was given specially just to her. But she has another name she would like to be called by, from now on.”
I look back to the kid and wait for her to tell me.
“Woofie,” she says with a big smile.
What the fuck? How is that any better?
Faith laughs at my expression. “Ruthie,” she adds, correcting Ruth Jean.
Now that is a lot fucking better.
“Cool. I like it, kid.”
“Estuse me?” she says dramatically, cupping her ear.
I feel my lips twitch, “I mean, Ruthie.”
She gives me a bright smile. “Dat’s betta.”
Faith chuckles but it fades quickly with Ruth Jean’s next question. “Are ya staying de night again tonight?” she asks hopefully.
I glance back at Red and I can tell she’s wondering the same thing, but she quickly looks away, breaking eye contact.
“Yeah, I’m staying again.” I didn’t know that until this moment, and when Red looks back at me with a smile that hits me like a punch to the gut, I realize I am incredibly fucked.
CHAPTER 21
Faith
The next afternoon, Ruthie and I grab the grocery bags out of the trunk and head up my front steps.
“It doesn’t wook wike Tade is home yet,” she says while doing a quick scan for his truck.
Home… I smile and can’t help the little flip my heart does at hearing her say that. I guess it’s not really his home, but it sure has felt that way the last few days. It would be even better if he would give in and come sleep in my bed with me, rather than the couch. I haven’t asked again, not wanting to pressure him, but every night I crave to feel him next to me. I long to feel his heartbeat under my cheek, that I committed to memory from that incredible night so long ago.
I look down at Ruthie. “Not yet, but he said he would be here for supper.”
Her bright smile is contagious, causing one of my own, but it quickly dies when I open the door and step into my house to hear someone singing a song without instruments. The incredible voice stops me dead in my tracks and I instantly recognize the song, ‘Perfect’ by Hedley. I stand in shock as I hear the lyrics being sung with such passion that I feel it all the way to my soul.
“It’s Twistiphwor. Isn’t he amazing?”
I stare down at Ruthie in utter disbelief before dropping the grocery bags at my feet and heading downstairs toward Christopher’s room. I feel her follow close behind me.
When I see his door is slightly ajar, I push it all the way open. His back is to me and he has his headphones on, blaring the song he is singing, so he doesn’t notice me yet. I watch him; completely awestruck as his hands pound the air with rhythm, playing the drums, while his amazing voice embraces my soul with every word that falls past his lips.
A moment later, he turns around and jumps back in surprise. “Shit!” He flings his headphones off. “Jesus, you scared the shit out of me.” He glances away nervously, his face turning red with embarrassment.
“You can sing,” I whisper in stunned disbelief. He shakes his head but I don’t let him deny it. “Yes, you can. You’re incredible. Why didn’t you tell me?” I’m a little hurt that he would keep this from me, especially when I asked him if there was anything he was interested in. He knew this was a passion we would both share.
He doesn’t answer and continues to stare down at the floor. Ruthie ends up speaking for him, “It’s betause he’s not awwowed to sing. My dad said music is fwor pussies.”
“Ruth Jean!” he snaps, not appreciating her honesty with me.
Anger claws at my chest as I think about his father spouting such hateful nonsense at him.
“It’s Woofie, wemember?” she glares back angrily. I put my hand up to silence the argument that’s about to start between them.
“Can you play anything?” I ask him curiously, craving to know more about his talent.
When he doesn’t respond, Ruthie, once again, speaks for him: “He had a guitar dat bewonged to my mom, but my dad bwoke it. He weally wants to wearn de dwums.” Christopher glares at her again and she shrugs unapologetically.
“Is that true? Do you want to learn to play the drums?”
As he remains silent, I let out a frustrated breath and stand directly in front of him. “Christopher, look at me!” When he does the vulnerability in his eyes has my heart swelling painfully.
“Look, it’s not a big deal okay, just forget about it.”
“I disagree. I think it’s a very big deal.” He attempts to look away again but I grab his face between my hands and don’t let him shut me out. “You have to know you have an incredible talent, Christopher.” He shakes his head but I keep his face firmly in my hands and will him to see the truth in my eyes. “Yes, you do. You could be something amazing. No, scratch that, you already are something amazing, but you could really go somewhere with this if you wanted to. Or if you don’t want to, that is okay too, but you owe it to yourself to explore your possibilities and I’m telling you, Christopher, with a voice like yours, your possibilities are endless.”
It’s true, I have never heard a voice that good come from anyone, let alone a fifteen-year-old boy.
I smile at him as an idea forms. “Sing with me.”
“What?” He rears back in shock, ripping his face out of my hands.
“I said sing with me, at church. We can do an opening for my music school. It would be a great introduction and…”
“No. No way!” he dismisses the idea instantly.
“Why not?”
“Because, Faith, I will look like an idiot.”
“No, you won’t!” I reply heatedly, knowing this is coming from the crap his father spewed at him. “Christopher, you have to know what your father said to you is complete crap. I mean, the majority of the world’s best bands are male singers, and they are the furthest thing from being a… wimp,” I say, not liking the word pussy being used in front of them.
I see the wheels turning in his head about the possibility, but I also see he isn’t ready to accept it yet.
“Just think about it, okay?” He shakes his head and is about to decline but I slap my hand over his mouth, and then giggle at his expression. “Yes. Just think about it. Don’t say anything right now.”
Grabbing Ruthie by the hand, I leave him alone with his thoughts. The entire time I cook supper, my own mind runs with a million ideas on how I can get him on board with this. I decide I’m going to have to pull out the big guns, and I’m starting with Alissa.
*
Later that night after supper, the four of us are sitting downstairs in the living room watching TV before bed. Cade and I sit on the couch while Ruthie sits on his lap, snuggled into his chest. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t desperately want to trade spots with her but I have to admit they are adorable, especially as she is wearing her princess nighty with her black beanie that matches his. She hasn’t taken the thing off since I bought it for her.
I glance
across the room at Christopher while he’s zoned into the TV, and feel a huge smile spread across my face. I haven’t been able stop thinking about how incredible his voice is. I excitedly told Cade all about it over supper, which annoyed Christopher to no end, but I couldn’t help myself. I still can’t believe he has a talent like this and kept it hidden for so long.
As if feeling the weight of my stare, he looks over at me then throws his hands up, “Would you stop it already?”
“What?” I ask innocently, but can’t seem to wipe the big smile off my face.
“You know what.”
“Can’t I be excited about how talented you are?” He rolls his eyes and shakes his head at the compliment.
“I wish I tould sing. I tan’t even talk pwopewly,” Ruthie says, but she doesn’t really sound all that disappointed about it.
Cade nudges her shoulder. “Don’t worry, kid, I can’t sing worth a sh… crap either.”
She smiles at him and throws an arm around his neck. “I know. We awe a wot awike, big guy!”
I smother a laugh when he quirks a brow at her. They are nothing alike—Ruthie is full of life, out-going, always optimistic and full of smiles while Cade is… well, the complete opposite, but still just as special.
“You have your own special gifts too,” I say, not wanting her to think she isn’t talented because she doesn’t have the same gift as Christopher. “And if you want to learn how to play a musical instrument, when the church fully opens you can enroll in my class and be my first student… next to Christopher,” I add the not so subtle hint and smile over at him.
“She isn’t going anywhere near that place.”
My eyes snap to Cade’s in surprise at his sudden, hard tone. “What are you talking about? Of course she will be going there. She starts Sunday school soon.”
Alarm briefly flashes in his eyes before they glaze over with icy disdain. “Like hell she is.” The room becomes utterly silent and my gaze narrows angrily at him, not appreciating his tone with me.