by Nashoda Rose
“After the first couple months, I got a reprieve from the club because . . . because I was pregnant.” Crisis’ fingers didn’t even flinch as he continued to play with my hair and I was thankful for his steady reaction. “It was Gerard’s. He’s the only one I’d ever been with before Olaf put me on birth control pills. And the timing was right.”
I closed my eyes and dragged in a shaky breath. A tear escaped the confines of my eyelid and trailed a path down my cheek. Crisis tilted his head and kissed it before it fell from the cusp of my jaw.
“God, I didn’t even know I was pregnant until four months along. And when I was sick, I thought it was due to the drugs. All I cared about at the time was my next fix, so I could disappear.
“Olaf locked me up in a room when the doctor confirmed my pregnancy. And that was . . . well, getting off heroine was the second worst experience in my life. Withdrawal hit and it was all I could do to get out of bed. I vomited and shook. My legs and stomach cramped so badly I cried, but the sound of my sobs was worse. Any noise amplified like loud speakers blaring in my head.
“But what made it easier was knowing I had a baby growing inside me. It was all I had and I didn’t care that it was Gerard’s. It was mine and . . . it was a piece of joy that I didn’t have.” I choked on the sob, my throat tight and chest aching as the memory of that moment pushed through. “The drugs . . . I’d been taking the drugs not knowing I was pregnant. I miscarried at six months.” I raised my head to look at Crisis. “They wouldn’t let me hold him. Not even for a second. All I knew was that he’d been a boy.
“I never heard him cry . . . I never saw his face.” Another tear slipped down my cheek and Crisis leaned into me and kissed it.
“Charlie?”
I nodded. I kept my eyes averted from him, afraid of what I’d see—disgust. Pity. Horror that I killed my own child. But when I finally did meet his eyes, there was none of that. He had that fierce crease between his glassy eyes filled with concern. I wanted to kiss the worry away. Ease the pain I saw in his eyes that matched my own.
“I freaked out after that and they kept me sedated for weeks. When I finally stopped crying, that was when something changed in me. I knew pain. I knew the loss of my brother and then my baby. That was my fault.”
“Jesus, Haven. None of it was your fault.” He moved and it was so he could look down at me and cup the sides of my face and make sure I was looking at him. “It’s not your fault. You have to know that.”
“I did the drugs.”
“Gerard forced you to. He raped you. You were kept high and addicted to that shit. Did you have a choice? Baby, did you have a choice? Because if you didn’t then you have to take it in that none of this is your fault.”
It was a while before I answered. “No. But I craved the drugs for a long time even if I never wanted to touch them again.” I separated our hands and ran my finger over the brand on my wrist. “This . . . this was a reminder that I was a possession. That I was no longer a person, but an object.”
His thumb wiped away another stray tear underneath my eye. “He branded you because he saw your strength. He was trying to break you, prove that you were nothing. You didn’t break, Haven. Your pieces may have scattered, but they didn’t break.”
I glanced over at him and saw the familiar quiet and calm steadiness within the depths of his eyes.
I reached up and he remained completely still as I traced my finger across his lower lip, the slight dampness from his tongue clinging to my skin. He never moved. It felt good to touch someone willingly, to know that it was my choice instead of the men who forced themselves on me.
“My brother . . .” I was his angel; this would crush him.
“He needs to know. He can’t move on and repair from the loss of the last twelve years without you.”
I’d asked him to accept me for who I was, but Crisis was right. How could I ask Ream to if he didn’t know who I was? “Yeah.”
We lay for a long time in one another’s arms, no words. Him processing all that I’d told him and me going through the loss again, but this time, it was with acceptance for what happened.
A buzzing sounded on the nightstand and I pulled away, glancing over at my phone, but I didn’t bother looking at the text. “How long has it been?”
“Eighteen hours.” Oh, God. “Dana called. She was concerned when you didn’t show up at school or answer her texts.”
“What did you tell her?”
“You had the flu.”
I nodded.
Crisis moved his arm away and sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. His back was to me and even though he had a shirt on, I could still see his muscles flexing. The mattress squeaked as he rose. “I’ll get you something to eat.”
But I didn’t feel like eating. “I want to go for a run.”
I expected him to say forget it, but he nodded. “Okay, I’ll go with you. Let me have a quick cold shower to wake up and call Luke.” He opened the door.
I didn’t know why security had to come with us, but I was just glad to go running. Running was my time alone; a way to find my steady again, but there was relief with his words. I wanted him with me. “Crisis?”
He half-turned toward me.
“Thank you . . . for not leaving me.” He smiled and I loved that smile. It warmed me up from my toes up to the top of my head. “The deal in the stable? Why did you do it? Luke could’ve told you what was happening with me. I didn’t have to text you.”
“It was a way to get you to talk to your brother. He needed that, so did you. The texting . . .” He dropped his head forward and I could see him chewing on his bottom lip. I grew a little nervous when he hesitated, then he straightened and our eyes locked. “I was cocky enough to believe I could make you fall madly in love with me over text.” I expected a wink or a grin; Crisis did neither. He turned and left.
My heart pumped wildly and a rush of heat soared through my body like a firecracker was set off inside me. The door clicked closed and I laid back closing my eyes as his words repeated over and over in my head.
He was serious. The deal wasn’t so he could make sure I was okay, because that was Luke’s job. The deal was to help my brother and I get back some of what we lost. And . . . and so I’d talk to Crisis. He’d known back then what was between us was more. He wanted me to fall in love with him?
He stayed with me.
He held me.
And now he knew my dirty secrets and he wanted me to love him.
I crushed the pillow to my chest. He never pushed me; he simply became the person I needed.
I climbed out of bed, went to the bathroom, brushed my teeth then changed to get ready to go for a run. I knew the running would be for a different reason this time. It wouldn’t be to bury the memories; it was to let them in and accept them.
I sat on the end of my bed to put on my running shoes when there was a soft knock on my door before it creaked open.
“Can I come in?”
I didn’t recognize the voice and tensed. Suddenly, I wished Crisis was still with me. He was like a buffer between me and everyone else.
The door slowly opened and an older woman dressed in black slacks, low black pumps and a white blouse with a red and gold silk scarf tied around her neck stood there. She looked classy and so not what I was expecting to be showing up in my room. My first thought was a psychologist or doctor or something.
“I’m on my way for a run.” I met her eyes, refusing to buckle under the overwhelming pressure to cave and fall into an abyss of tears of self-pity.
She smiled and it was warm and kind. I knew I should feel bad for being rude, but I didn’t. “I’ll only be a minute.” She approached me. “I’m Sophia Wesson.”
“Oh.” Crisis’ mother and the woman who had fostered Ream. Some of the tension evaporated.
“Do you mind?” She gestured to the bed and when I didn’t say anything she sat beside me, although at a distance.
My emotions were curre
ntly a circus of fucked up and I was uncertain about how I felt about meeting her.
“Both my sons are being evasive as to what happened.” Sons . . . she called Ream her son. “But Ream has always been . . . reserved and . . . stubborn.” Well, that was all true and he was reserved because of what he’d gone through. Trust was something both of us had a hard time doing. “But he called me. It’s the first time he’s ever called me for help. It was the first time he sounded scared.”
Shit, he’d called her—scared.
“I won’t pretend to have any idea of what has happened to you because I don’t. I’ve had a pretty comfortable life with nothing too traumatic other than the loss of my cat.” She shifted, crossing her legs. “My boys mean the world to me and seeing them worried and afraid, that breaks a mother’s heart.”
The word mother hit me hard. And maybe it was why some of the tension in me faded because she was a mother and good mothers did anything for their children. I may have never held my child, or known him, but it didn’t matter. Charlie was part of me, always would be.
“I’m just a mother, Haven. But I’m a good one and I love my children no matter when or how they came into my life. You’re part of our family now. I won’t ever abandon or judge you and when you’re ready, I’m here for you.”
I realized I’d been holding my breath and slowly exhaled.
“Really, Mom?”
I jerked my eyes to the door to see Crisis standing with a towel wrapped around his waist, hair dripping wet. He must have seen the open door and glanced in.
“What the fuck? Why are you here?” He glanced at me then frowned at his mom. “She doesn’t want you mothering her.”
Sophia stood and walked toward him. Her back was to me, but I saw Crisis’ frown drop away pretty quickly. “Go put some clothes on,” she ordered. “I taught you better than that. Haven doesn’t need to see you parading around half-naked. And when on earth did you get that tattoo on your side?” She made a tsking sound. “I don’t know why you and Ream need to mark up your skin. You have beautiful bodies without all that ink staining it.”
Crisis didn’t bother moving like his mother wanted him to; instead, he raised his arms and held the top of the doorframe, which showed off his muscled abdomen.
“Fuck, Mom, give it up about the ink.”
She smacked his arm. “Where did that mouth come from? God, what Haven must think of you? No wonder you never have a girlfriend.”
He winked at me and my stomach flipped over. No matter what was screwing with me, Crisis could plow through it and make me feel better. It wasn’t something I’d expected. It just happened, slowly, over time.
He never gave up on me. It was as if he crawled inside me and made himself at home. The thing was he never busted down the door. He knocked and it was I who opened it.
Sophia glanced over her shoulder at me and smiled then ducked under Crisis’ arms. “Vincent, close the door. Give the girl some privacy. Put some clothes on and I’ll make everyone something to eat.”
“We’re going running,” Crisis said.
“I sure hope not like that.” Sophia scowled. “And why would you shower before you run?” She made an exaggerated sigh while shaking her head. “I have no idea what goes on inside that head of yours.”
“And a fuck of a good thing,” Crisis said then chuckled.
I bit my lip to keep from smiling. It was cute. They had an ease between them. And Sophia’s words resonated. No matter what Crisis had done or did, his mother would always love him.
Sophia reached up and kissed him on the cheek. “Behave yourself.”
She left but Crisis stayed in the doorway, leaning forward, his weight on his arms gripping the top of the doorframe. “Give me two minutes, babe.”
I nodded then said, “She’s . . . nice.”
“She’s special as hell. There is no de-momming that woman.” He smirked and his arms dropped to his sides. I loved that he was letting all that I’d told him go and was back to himself. I’m sure it was spinning inside his head, but I needed him to be Crisis and he was giving me that. “You’re not a pissy-ass jogger are you? I like to run.”
I smiled. “I can run.” My eyes trailed over his damp skin and the low-slung towel sitting on his hips. I knew he worked out a lot and I was betting he was going to push me.
“Two minutes.” Crisis disappeared.
I sat on the end of the bed to wait for him, knowing it wouldn’t be two minutes, more like ten. My finger sliding back and forth over the brand. It was the first time I touched it and it didn’t hurt so badly.
3 weeks later
EVERY MORNING I ran with Crisis and Roman, the latter had become my personal bodyguard when I left the condo. Three weeks ago, after my breakdown, I’d asked Crisis while we were running why the extra security. He told me it was precautionary.
“Against what?” We were running hard and I slowed the pace.
“Baby, can I not tell you and pretend I did?”
I stopped, glancing behind me at Roman who also stopped and was watching the people around us. “It’s that girl, isn’t it?”
“She’s texting me. Like I said—precautionary. I don’t want you to worry.”
“Anything else I should know?”
He nodded. “She’s called my parents’ house. Don’t know for sure, but Luke is going back through all the records and seeing if any calls came from Alberta.” I waited because I knew there was more with the way he shifted his weight and frowned. Nothing casual about him at that moment. “Maybe the farm would be better for you to stay at for a while. Lay low until we figure this out.”
I put my hands on my hips, my chest still heaving from our run. “Are you suggesting? Or has this been decided?”
He moved in and I liked when he did that. But I was pissed because I had exams and I’d worked hard. I wasn’t screwing up the parts of my life I rebuilt because of some chick who was obsessed with him.
“Luke suggested it. Just easier for them to watch us there. I also think we should tell Luke about your past. He’s protecting you, too, and it’s important he’s informed.”
I nodded. He was right. Luke had to know. Crisis placed his hands on my hips; I really liked that, too. Tingles sparked through me and despite all the shit that surfaced, it was stronger than ever. The compartments were opened and there was nothing left to hide.
I wanted him to kiss me, but my confidence around kissing and sex was fucked up, so I didn’t make a move. He didn’t either except for his light touches and holding me in bed.
Yeah, I had that, too. Every night since I’d freaked out, he slipped into my bed at night and wrapped his arms around me. I’d feel his light kiss on my head then he’d whisper, “Night, baby.”
It was sweet and comforting and I’d never slept better than when I was enfolded within his embrace, listening to his steady heartbeat.
“I have school. Exams are soon, then Christmas break.”
“Then you’ll go after exams?”
“What about you?” If I wasn’t out of breath, I’d be holding it as I waited for his answer, because I couldn’t imagine waking up without his arms around me.
He grinned and my chest warmed. “You want me, cupcake?”
I raised my brows at the endearment. “Cupcake?”
“Answer the question.”
“Yeah, I do. I want to wake up with you.”
“Good, because I was coming with you anyway.”
After that, things were sweet. He stayed in most evenings with me and we watched movies and had dinner together, often with Kite. There was an ease between us. It had always been there, just polluted by my demons.
Ream and Kat stayed at her brother Matt’s place downtown for a few days after my breakdown so Ream could be close by. He came by every day and we talked about school and his music. I also told him I wanted to help kids like us. Kids who had no parents, who were like Ream and me. I knew I had a long way to go with repairing myself first, but I was determi
ned to get there.
I knew I’d be good at it. I knew how to read people and I excelled at hiding and not talking. And I also knew how damaging it was to not talk.
That was when I told Ream about the club and Charlie. We were alone at the condo and sitting out on the patio, the wind cool against my skin, but not scary.
He took it pretty well for Ream and remained semi-calm. I sensed a part of my brother had changed over the last few days. Maybe what I’d been doing by hiding what happened had been hurting him, instead of protecting him.
In a way, what happened freed me. I always felt trapped in my need to be strong by burying everything that happened. I finally agreed to see a therapist, but talking about it with Ream and Crisis had helped.
Now, I had one more day of classes then a week of exams before I was off until the New Year. Roman stayed in the guest room since he was here all the time and he was already up with coffee made when I went downstairs.
Crisis was still in my bed and normally he woke when I slipped out of his arms, but he’d been up really late, not crawling into bed with me until almost four in the morning. I knew because I woke when he came in behind me and glanced at the clock. Then he linked our hands and rested them on my abdomen. I fell back asleep.
It was just after nine and I was in my sociology class listening to the drone of Professor Eric’s lecture when my phone vibrated.
WTF. You left without waking me.
I never wake you. You wake up when I do and this morning you didn’t. You were up late.
Roman with you?
Do you need to ask?
I waited but my phone didn’t vibrate for a minute then,
I’m coming.
?
Where are you?
School.
Funny, babe. Which class?
Oh no, you don’t.
You know I have access to your schedule. I’ll text Roman and tell him I’m coming.
Crisis, no.
See you in ten, babe.
I turned around in my seat to the back corner of the room where Roman stood. He’d spoken to each of my professors when he’d first started coming to classes to inform them his purpose for being there.