FILTHY (Reckless #2)

by HJ Bellus

  “Who’s that?” I point to the dust rolling up the lane.

  “Ross and Kip. They wanted to come see numb nuts here,” Zane says while staring at Charlie.

  “I’ll teabag you with these numb nuts.” He grabs his crotch.

  “Boys,” his mom warns and I can’t help but laugh. Only if she knew.

  “He’s alive.” Ross bounces up the deck steps and pats Rhett’s shoulder.

  “Good to see you, man.” Kip shakes Rhett’s hand.

  “Thank guys.”

  “Had to see if the legend was well and alive,” Ross jokes taking a seat.

  Ava busts out the door with two beers, handing each of the men a cold one before curling up on Zane’s lap.

  “Guess I won’t have to worry about you taking my job,” Kip says.

  “Uh?” I ask.

  Rhett leans over to whisper in my ear. “I was going to surprise you the night you saw me with Gia. Kip and I had traded jobs. Ross wanted new meat on the stage and I wanted to stay at the club, but behind the bar.”

  I melt into his arm. “Bartenders are so sexy.”

  I kiss him hard and long, not giving a care both of his parents are present.

  “Kip’s doing a hell of a job on the stage in your place; the ladies love him. I just need to find a new bartender.”

  “Excuse me.” Rhett’s mom chokes on her water in shock. “What did you say?”

  Ross begins to talk before Rhett can stop him. “Your son. He’s one hell of a stripper.”

  “Rhett Westburn.” She makes her way to him and twists his ear. “Are you telling me you were a stripper?”

  “Ow, Ma. It’s no big deal. I just waggled my wiener on the stage for a few extra bucks.”

  “Oh, you did more than wave your dick. The man dry humped every surface for the screaming women.” Ross pours the salt on the open wound.

  I fight to hold back the laughter, seeing the fear of God in Rhett’s eyes.

  “Rhett, I raised you better.”

  “Zane did it, too.”

  “Fuck, Rhett, did you have to throw me under the bus, too?”

  The deep chuckle streaming from Rhett’s dad is contagious. He walks up to his wife and wraps her in a hug. “Honey, it really shouldn’t surprise you coming from these two dipshits.”

  He places the sweetest kiss on her forehead.

  “If I hear of either of you,” she points at Rhett first then Zane, “up on the stage juggling your junk, I’ll paddle both of your asses. I still have that wooden spoon with both of your names on it.”

  Everyone but the two busted boys roll in laughter. I never thought anyone could put the fear of God in these two. They respond in unison.

  “Yes, ma'am.”

  “Let’s go honey,” Rhett’s dad extends his hand to hug me and then they tell everyone goodnight. His poor mom walks down the stairs still shaking her head.

  “Dick.” Rhett tosses an empty soda can at Ross, who is still struggling to control his laughter.

  “No more juggling your junk there, Jedi.”

  This time even the two scolded boys can’t help but bust up.

  30

  Rhett

  I gave in and called my boss the other day, letting him know I won’t be able to run excavators anymore. I’ve been in physical therapy for weeks with no improvement. My left arm functions, but not full range. I struggle gripping items and can’t extend it. I have no trouble pleasing my woman, and I thank God for that.

  “I brought your freshly squeezed lemonade.” Darby sets down a chilled glass in front of me.

  I raise an eyebrow questioning her.

  “Okay, it’s from the jug, but I cut up a lemon and put in it with splash of vodka, so it’s practically the same thing.”

  I grab the back of her thigh and stare at the pile of wood I’ve been staring at for hours.

  “The orders are piling up, baby, get to work.”

  “I can’t,” I whisper.

  She grabs my left hand and squeezes it. “You can.”

  She runs my palm over the freshly planed pink ivory wood. She forces my palm to feel each of the corners.

  “Darby, I can’t run the table saw.”

  She forces me to stand and walks me over to the table saw that’s already set on the proper dimensions. “Show me.”

  She flicks the saw on and places a pair of safety glasses on waiting for me to do the same thing. When I don’t move, she puts my glasses on and hands me the board standing on my left side. I do nothing but hold the board in my right hand. She applies the perfect amount of pressure on the left side taking the lead guiding the wood through the saw.

  The sweet smell of freshly cut wood empowers me. I help her guide it through, paying close attention to her delicate hands and the power blade rotating. We work without words. She becomes my left hand as we cut each piece of wood together in silence. She works in unison with my body until all the pieces are cut for the table.

  I pre-drill all the holes. It all flows back to me. The love of building and working with raw material, creating a final masterpiece. Darby doesn’t say a word, watching me. She studies my left shoulder and is there for me when I need her. The hours float by until we drift into the next day. It’s nearly three in the morning and the table stands before us.

  Darby comes to my left side, wrapping both her arms around mine, rubbing the length of it from my wrist up to the top of my shoulder. She’s more than my life, my world, she’s part of me.

  “Thank you,” I whisper with tears welling up in my eyes.

  I’m not afraid to hide the fact I’m standing in front of her crying as a grown-ass adult.

  “You believed in parts of me I never did. You taught me it’s impossible to unlove you. My soul is yours and now my hands will forever be yours.”

  My girl has just given me everything in the world. The emotion takes over. I’m such a mess I can’t respond, so I only squeeze her hand in my left hand and kiss the ever loving hell out of her.

  31

  Darby

  “I’m going to flamingo pink your ass when I get out of this shower.”

  “FusciaFuchsia can be so damn tricky.” I stare down at the new dress I have a photo shoot for this week.

  I hear him growl from the shower and love antagonizing him with the color scheme. Both of our businesses have taken off. We sleep, eat, and breathe woodworking and fashion. It’s truly a laughable combination, but it’s us.

  Rhett surprised me with a romantic dinner that led to hot, toe curling sex, but he slipped me a card while he went down on me. Reading it was quite the task with him licking me, driving me insane. It was our official LLC. “My Girl Unlove, LLC.” He even added a little tagline to the business name. “The only place wood gets fresh with fashion.”

  I burst out in a fit of laughter. I could feel his lips spread wide across my pussy. I pulled the man up by his sexy man-bun and kissed him hard. “It’s perfect.”

  “It’s us.”

  “Yes.”

  “Need your back washed?” I holler to him in the shower.

  “No, you don’t. No more distraction or stalling tactics. Today is the day you meet your mother.”

  His words make me feel ill. I’ve pushed it off for a month now and feel guilty about it each day. But the thought of actually meeting her scares the hell out of me. Rhett called the number on the letter. I’ll never forget his face while he talked on the phone. Pain was etched in each of his features. He nodded mostly and said he understood.

  When he asked me to sit down, I know it was bad, really bad. My mother is in a nursing home suffering from Alzheimer's. She’s in the worst stage of it. She’s unable to take care of herself and is quickly spiraling into a state of death. Her kidneys are failing her. Of course, the nurse told Rhett she has good and bad days.

  I’m sitting on the edge of the bed fumbling with my fingers thinking how cruel of a joke this is. Rhett kneels before me wrapped in a towel. He parts my legs to fit between them.


  “Talk.”

  “I’m sad really sad.” I let a tear fall. “It’s not fair, Rhett.”

  “I know baby.” He brushes the tear away. “I’d do anything to fix this for you.”

  “The nurses tell you she rambles about a baby and she’s not going to even recognize me.”

  “You don’t know that.” He cups my face in his hands. “Please don’t cry, baby.”

  I drop my forehead to his and let him hold me up. It’s what we do. We fall into each other and find our ground.

  “You’ll know you met her. You can talk to her. Tell her that you’re her girl. She deserves it.”

  “I know,” I whisper. “It just hurts so bad.”

  “Look at me.” He waits for me to open my eyes. “You know how we can’t unlove each other?”

  I nod.

  “She can’t unlove you, Darby. The world has brought us all together. Is it a perfect situation, no. But you have it.”

  “I can’t.” I burst out into tears and throw my arms around his neck.

  Rhett lets my pain fall from me without any further words. It takes hours before I build up enough courage and we drive in silence. He keeps his hand on mine and never lets go. The sterile stench of the nursing home hits me hard. I cringe and freeze in my tracks.

  It’s the nudge from Rhett that makes me move forward. He talks to the nurses and gets the room number. Her favorite caregiver ushers us into her room. It’s pathetic. No pictures, bare walls, bland colored blankets, and a fragile woman swaying in a rocking chair.

  I have the chance to study her since her head has dropped. I search the floor beneath her trying to figure out what she’s looking at. The nurse steps to the side and lets us have our moment.

  Rhett keeps his hand on my back, but stops letting me walk the rest of the way to her. Her hair is thick and in a long braid. It’s silver. Nothing like the pictures I saw. Slowly, I kneel before her and place my palm on her knee. I’m so afraid I’ll break her.

  She raises her head and stares at me. My brown eyes stare back at me.

  “Mom.” The word escapes me before thinking.

  She gasps and begins screaming incoherent words. Her body fights her as it jerks and convulses while nonsense spews from her.

  “It’s okay, Mom, it’s Darby.”

  The nurse rushes to her side. “She’s over stimulated.”

  I stand up and back away, trembling with fear.

  “No. No. No.” Coherent words finally fall from her mouth.

  I step forward and kneel again. This time she clutches my hand.

  “Mine.” Her word is clear as day.

  The nurse kneels with me. “Francis, this is Darby, your baby.”

  “Mine.” She squeezes my hand to a near painful state.

  “Yes, mom, I’m home.”

  “Mine.” Tears roll from her eyes.

  I turn to Rhett who's standing behind me. “Please, can we take her home?”

  “Yes, Darby.”

  I continue talking over him, not acknowledging his answer. “Please. Please. Please.”

  He kneels before me, clutching my shoulders and pressing his lips to my temple. “Yes, baby. Breathe. Relax.”

  “Mom, this is Rhett. I love him.” The words spill from me with no rhyme or reason.

  She waggles her eyebrows up and down, and we all laugh. I’m not a mother yet, but I know the feeling of falling in love with your newborn when laying eyes on them, because I fell harder and deeper with another soul in this moment than humanly possible. She’s my mom and I’m her daughter. We’re reconnected forever.

  32

  Darby

  This blog post made by Darby on My Girl Unlove trended for over six months, inspiring broken souls all over the world. She nearly broke the Internet the day she showed the world the real Darby.

  Falling In Love With Life

  This isn’t a fashion post. It’s a life post. I could go on and on about how unfair my life has been up until now, but I don’t want to. I’ve always wanted to know what love is and I found it. It’s been an ugly and downright filthy journey.

  I’m human, made of flesh and bone, with muscles that work in unison. I’m a sinner. I’ve done horrible things in my life. I’ve hurt, loved, and healed. I believe in God.

  He’s all around me, from the dew drops balancing on the blades of grass early in the morning to my sweet niece, Charlie, walking on wobbly legs.

  None of us stay forever young, we grow old and have the choice to relish life or become bitter.

  It’s taken me a long time to decide. If I said it was easy then I’d be lying.

  I met my mother when she only had three short months left here on Earth before she gained her angel wings.

  I was stolen as a baby and raised by evil monsters. I killed the man who claimed to be my father. I watched the woman who sold me on the black market die of lethal injection. I’d hope, deep in my soul, watching her take her last breath would magically fix me. The news of the woman that called herself my mother dying from committing suicide did nothing.

  I was looking for a painkiller to fix it all. I was looking in all the wrong places. Revenge soothes the open wounds, but doesn’t heal.

  My mom and Rhett were the answer. And God gave them to me. He didn’t give them to me on my terms, but his. The most important is, he gave them to me.

  My most precious gift was a dying mother suffering from Alzheimer’s. She didn’t know where to pee and had struggled to swallow food. She was the most beautiful person I ever met.

  We took care of her for three months. I spent hours in her bed lying next to her while working. She was very opinionated on my dresses that I selected. She’d bat away the ones she disliked and hug the ones to her chest she approved. She’d wag her finger at me when one was too short and Rhett would give her a thumbs up.

  We shared ice cream at night. She’d push away the chocolate and choose the vanilla. We shared a laugh one night when she picked chocolate, and I notice Rhett panic. He went for the bowl and she swatted him away.

  “Your wedding ring is in there,” he whispered.

  I didn’t fully understand him until my mom plucked a gorgeous ruby ring from the bowl. Her eyes flared up in recognition. She waved it between Rhett and I.

  “May I?” he asked on a bent knee. She nodded and handed him the ring. It was one of the rare moments where she processed the situation on her own.

  It was one of her only possessions that came with her from the nursing home. We’ll never know the story behind it, but it sits on my left ring finger.

  We were wed in our small living room with her front and center. Ava and Zane, and his parents were the only guests. It was perfect.

  Mom loved Elvis and always wanted him singing to her. The first dance wasn’t with me. Rhett turned up the bluetooth speaker until a sexy, sultry voice drifted out. Mom’s foot began lightly tapping the floor to “Love Me Tender”. He scooped her up and spun her around the floor. I couldn’t contain my tears.

  When he sat her down, she pinched his ass. It was her favorite thing to do. She loved Rhett and that was everything to me.

  We’d catch her rocking from time to time with her arms cradled, as if she was holding a baby.

  We never fully knew what was going on in her mind. She was locked inside her own body, held prisoner by an invisible wall, and I still loved her.

  Rhett and I slept with her for three nights. I was determined to hold her hand when she passed. Her fragile body sandwiched between us. I held one of her hands, and Rhett held the other. Then our hands with our wedding rings connected lay on her stomach. The place where she once held me dearly.

  Before her final breath, she spoke three words. And those three words are proudly engraved on her headstone. “My baby forever.”

  Rhett and I have never discussed the fact the disease is highly hereditary, and we don’t need to. I know he’ll feed me ice cream, play Elvis music, and hold me until my dying breath.

  So, I c
ould be bitter and hateful, but I’m too blessed. My mom gave me life, then gave me life again, and in that I will forever love.

  The pain is real. I’m made of flesh, bones, and sin, but it’s late in the night when I cry unstoppable tears, wrapped up in forever, that I know I’ll be okay.

  Love,

  Darby Westburn

  The End

  My Beginning

  Epilogue

  Darby

  A love this deep requires no epilogue-it's never ending. At no time, will we be boxed in by society's rules, because we don’t know how to unlove.

  PS- Rhett wanted me to let everyone know that my pussy lived happily ever after!

  SCANDAL

  Darby

  “Rhett shut up. I don’t care if you just won the stupid game.” I wave him off and concentrate on the moaning streaming from the other end of the phone.

  “Hello.”

  “Help me.” The words are barely audible.

  “I can barely hear you. Who is this?”

  “Ava, Darby help me.”

  I push the speaker phone icon and kick at Rhett’s nuts to shut him up. It’s the only way to get his damn attention.

  “Who is this?”

  “Help me, Ava, I need you.”

  “Hello, this is Ava. Who is this?”

  The slamming of a door echoes from the other end of the phone and sharp intakes of breathing fill the dead silence. I’m ready to hang up the phone and chalk it up to another prank call until the caller speaks again.

  “It’s Chloe and I need help. Please.” Her sobs attack her words.

  “Chloe!” Ava screams in a panicked stricken voice. “Where are you?”

  “In a bus stop.”

  “Where?” she yells again. Charlie begins to cry hearing her mom’s voice. Rhett picks her up and ushers her into the house. Zane is at Ava’s side holding her.

  “I don’t know. I left him.”