Bear said the music had saved him, was saving him still, and Benny hoped for the same outcome. Pushing himself every day to play longer, harder, take on different styles of music, force himself to sight-read and play by ear and utilize a dozen different tactics to make himself better. Mold his talent into a skill that would stay with him forever. Form himself into someone who could hold his own against Bear, or any other talent on the market here in the Fort.
A hand closed over his on the neck of the guitar. “Stop it,” Ruby told him, glaring at him, nose scrunched. “You’re doing fine. You’re going to be fine.” She shook her head, letting her hand fall away. “I’ll be back in a week, tops.” Leaning back, she propped one slim ankle on her knee, her belly filling the space created by her angled leg. “Vic can keep you in line.” She slapped Vic’s thigh with her palm, grinning between the two men bracketing her on the couch. “I gots faith in the boy.”
***
Two days later he was seated in the exact same spot when his phone rang. Picking it up off the table, Ruby’s info was on the screen. Concerned, he quickly answered, putting it to his ear. Before he could even get out a greeting, she was shrieking, half her words lost in her eagerness. “…osed, can you believe it? I didn’t hardly get off the plane, and he’s all, marry me, and I’m all, okay. And so there you go, it’s good, right, Benny? It’s good?”
“He asked you to marry him?” Holy shit. He knew Andy loved her—the emotion was plain on his face every time he looked at her—but to get married?
“More told me than asked.” Ruby giggled, and he heard voices in the background. “I gotta go, Benny. I wanted to tell you first.” She sighed, and he knew she was looking at whatever ring Andy had put on her finger. “I’ll be your sister-in-law.”
“Sister-in-truth,” he countered, then asked, “Is it pretty?” She’d called him, not one of her friends. Not someone from the club. Him and that kind of sharing told him how much she’d grown to care for him. “I’m your brah now, Ruby mine.”
She giggled again, and he heard Andy’s voice in the background, calling her name. “Yes, it’s beautiful. He did good, brah.” She giggled again. “Nope, can’t bring myself to call you that. I’ll pick something else.” Her tone was teasing. “Gotta be something you hate. I’ll give it some thought, come up with a good one. You wait and see.”
Rolling his eyes, he told her goodbye and then, because she started talking to Andy before the call disconnected, got to listen to her speaking animatedly, clearly communicating her love for his brother, the cadence of her speech rising and falling, flowing into something that made him smile.
Hmm. Fingers to the strings, he strummed slowly, the song taking shape in his mind. Music first, it rolled through his fingers, notes finding their place next to each other effortlessly. Then, once the music was firm in his head, the words came with the same simplicity. Complete and whole nearly from inception.
Ghost of love no more, you brought my desires into the sunlight. Passionate and strong, your love braces me, laces me, in places worn to pieces. Phantom pain erased by your hands, gold band joining us feels so right. Head lifted high, your love braces me, places me, in your hands, cradled.
He strummed through the melody again before he lost the thread, then he tapped record on his seldom-used phone app, working his way through the lyrics slowly.
That doesn’t suck, he thought, and then his gaze caught on the cabinet beside the stove. In Andy’s efforts to cleanse the house of booze, he’d missed one stash. A small pint of black label whiskey sat on the shelf behind that thin piece of painted wood. It stood next to a container of salt and a bottle of olive oil, and Benny knew it was probably a cooking additive, but still…the need whispered, whiskey. In his mind, he heard Ruby’s giggle, happy and light, telling him her good news first. He mattered to her. “My sister-in-truth.” Repeating the words he’d said to her helped give him strength when he was ready to pull his gaze away from the cabinet door standing between him and pleasant numbness. “Make her proud.”
***
Walking into the club’s base of operations the next day, he nearly crashed headlong into someone as they ran out the door, stumbling and dodging to one side to avoid the collision. “Whoa,” he clipped, settling his guitar case on his shoulder again, then took a second look and realized it was Lucia. Their paths hadn’t often crossed since that first day at Eddie’s, but when they did, she seemed easygoing and sweet, a quick smile on her lips, even if she didn’t say a lot. Today her eyes were red and tear-filled, hair tangled around her head like she’d been tearing her hands through it.
“Luce,” he called, reaching out to steady her with one hand. “What’s wrong, honey?”
Frozen in place, she jerked and shuddered, trying to hold the tears in check. Staring at him, she seemed frozen, saying nothing, so he tried again. “Luce, tell me what’s happened?”
“Miguel.” Her voice husky with emotion, she offered nothing more than her baby brother’s name and Benny’s gut clenched.
“What happened?” She needed to tell him Mickey was okay. He’d come to love the little turd. Mickey and Roddy both, Rafe, too. Bear’s blended family. Benny suddenly remembered what happened to Bear’s wife and daughter, and his grip on her arm tightened involuntarily. “What’s happened to Mickey?”
“He…” She pulled in a breath, visibly steadying herself. “He broke his arm.”
“Oh, thank God,” he said, taking a huge breath, feeling relief washing through him, spilling side-to-side, coating and calming the terror gripping him tightly. “Is that all?”
Pulling away, she slipped from his grasp, and he missed the touch of her immediately. “Is that all?” Her question hissed through the air, and he watched as her mouth twisted, her head shaking side-to-side. She sniffed, fingers wiping her cheeks as her eyes flashed with anger. “I guess if you’re a famous star, a little boy’s pain isn’t much to worry about. Soy su hermana.”
He was hurt by her tone and without thinking, snapped, “It’s a lot better than what happened to Bear’s family.” When her face went white, he wished he could suck the words back down, bury them underneath anything he could find in order to ensure they’d never break free. “Honey, I’m sorry. I like the little shrimp a lot. I’m sorry he’s hurt, I am. All I meant is a broken arm will heal.” He stepped closer, not surprised when she took a matching step backwards. Make it right. “Are you headed home?” He knew she hadn’t held her license for long, and didn’t want to think of her driving in this state. “Let me give you a lift. We’ll get there faster, I promise. Get you wherever Mickey is, yeah?” Intentionally, he echoed Bear’s speech patterns, hoping to drive home the idea quickly.
“I’m sorry, Ben.” She looked at the ground between them. “I wasn’t thinking.”
“Neither was I, Luce. Water under the bridge. The important thing is Mickey’s gonna be okay. Now, let me get you home.” Reaching out, he held his breath until she slipped her palm against his, holding on tightly as he led her to his borrowed car.
***
Leaning sideways, he whispered to Lucia, “I think he likes having two grandmas.” It was six hours after he’d literally run into her at the club’s place, and Miguel was finally installed on the couch in Bear’s apartment. An apartment that was coincidently in the same building as Andy and Ruby’s apartment. Lucia had been that close, and he never knew.
They were laughing at Bear’s mom, Maggie, and the kids’ grandmother, who everyone called Abuela, as they good-naturedly dueled to see who could give the kid the most prizes and treasures for being so silly as to get hurt.
He turned in time to see the smile Lucia turned towards the couch. Fond and affectionate, it softened her face in a way that accented her beauty. Everything he’d discovered about her, he liked. Nearly of a height with him, she had her hands tucked behind her back, shoulders against the wall they were sharing. Out of the way, but available in case Mickey needed her, she waited with a patience that spoke of deep l
ove. Her lips parted, and his eyes dropped to see the tip of her tongue glide across her bottom one, his cock waking up at the sight. Fuck.
Jerking back to face the room, he saw Bear was standing in the opening to the kitchen area, watching Benny, an appraising look on his face. Fighting getting hard in a way he hadn’t done for a long time, Benny gave him the wordless chin lift so many of the Rebel Wayfarers seemed to use as a covers-everything greeting. After a moment during which his contemplation of Benny stayed heavy and focused, he returned the gesture, turning to speak to Eddie where she was fiddling with the coffee maker.
“Yeah.” This came from Lucia and pulled his attention back to her, seeing the expression on her face had softened even more, but now she was looking at him, and he didn’t know what to make of that. Eyes falling to her lips again, he watched her pull the bottom one between her teeth, letting it slide out slowly, glistening with wetness, which made her already plump lips look even more so. Now his dick was doing a lot more than waking up, and he was afraid he would be looking for a pillow to hold in a minute.
“Benny.” His name came from Bear across the room, and he jerked his head up, erection effectively managed with a single word from Lucia’s dad. “Talk to Slate lately?”
Shaking his head, he decided he would share Ruby’s news. “Talked to Rubes yesterday morning.” He wouldn’t have been able to derail the grin on his face if he tried. “He met her with a ring when she got off the plane.” Bear started grinning back at him. “She was a little…excited.”
“What?” That shriek came from Eddie, who pushed Bear to one side as she forced her way into the living room. “DeeDee,” she turned to speak to the redhead coming out of the kitchen behind her. “Did you know about this?” DeeDee might not be Ruby’s birth mom—that bitch was as poor an example of motherhood as his own was—but she had effectively raised Ruby since the girl befriended her daughter in grade school. Her daughter died in a car accident alongside DeeDee’s husband. Benny cut his eyes to Bear. Like his wife and daughter.
“Slate showed me the ring,” DeeDee murmured, her face holding as much love for his brother as Lucia’s had for Mickey a moment ago. “Glad he decided to take the leap.” Her gaze turned to Benny. “She called you?”
Uh oh, this might be tricky, he thought. With a slow up-and-down movement of his head, he said, “Yeah, she’s turned into my big sister. Gonna be my sister-in-truth we decided.” That should explain the relationship he had with Ruby, without making it seem odd she called him and not the woman who might as well be her mom.
“I’m glad she’s got you.” DeeDee’s words were honest and filled with joy, not upset Ruby hadn’t called her, hadn’t picked up the phone, more than a full day later.
***
Baby. Benita’s voice drilled down through the drunken haze engulfing him. He liked it here. He didn’t want to wake up. Didn’t want to lose the fog that gave space between himself and the pain that seemed to be his entire life. Baby.
The voice held more than a hint of an accent, and he found himself squinting up at the unsmiling face hovering over him. “Benny.”
Blinking up at the beautiful cocoa-colored skin and warm brown eyes, the first thing he thought with any clarity was Fuck. His mouth wasn’t connected yet, wasn’t working. Mute, not enough synapsing connections working right now to drive the engine behind his most useful deflection weapon. “Benny.”
His stomach revolted, and he turned his head sideways, trying not to vomit on the woman seated on the edge of the couch. Even with Andy and Ruby gone, he still couldn’t bring himself to sleep in their bed. That was theirs, nothing to do with the trash that was his existence. Trash he’d proven wasn’t far away with his decisions last night. He moved, and a loud clunk announced the heavy-bottomed, but now entirely empty black label whiskey bottle had fallen to the floor.
“Get out.” Face to the back of the couch, he squeezed his eyes shut, waiting to feel the weight leave the cushion at his hip. He swallowed convulsively, still trying not to vomit, knowing from his vast experience, he’d be losing the battle within a few minutes.
“Benny.” Could a voice carry the weight of disappointment and sadness? Seemed so, because hearing Lucia say his name again pressed against him, forcing him deeper in the couch, keeping him where he was. Mired in his decisions. Again. “What happened?”
“Get out.” He repeated his words, but with less conviction than before. If he had to open his mouth again, he’d lose what little control he had over his body, even now feeling his hold slipping away. His stomach jerked, and lurched again, and he jackknifed to sitting, feeling the room sway in a way that would not assist in achieving a settled stomach. A bowl appeared in front of him, and he grabbed it away from the small, feminine hands, dropping his head into the opening as he heaved. And retched. And gagged. Dribbles of bile the first thing to make an appearance. Burning yellow globs of acid setting his throat on fire, the familiar pain telling him how bad this was going to be.
Two hundred and seventy-four fucking days.
Back to zero.
Fuck.
Now the retching produced more quantity, this burning no less because the alcohol following the bile always bit deep. Loud groans coincided with each splash, his body moving involuntarily to purge the offensive substances. A clunk. Water running in a nearby room. The cushion settled at his back, and he hadn’t even been aware she’d moved away. A cool cloth draped across the back of his neck, pulling a different kind of groan from him because it felt so good.
Silence accompanied her care of him. Hands changing out the too quickly heated wet cloth for a cool fresh one every few minutes. Exchanging the stench- and swill-filled bowl for a clean one. Fingers gliding soothingly up and down his back, gripping his biceps gently when he bent deep, wracked by cramps and shuddering in the grasp of his addiction. Because even now, right this moment, vomiting in front of the woman he’d been trying to deny he wanted, he wanted a drink so fucking bad it was all he could to do not beg her for a ride, for five dollars, for a bottle of booze to help him push back the pain of remembering.
“I’m sorry.” He finally had enough breath to push the empty fucking words from his mouth. I don’t know what else to say. I don’t have anything else to offer. A clean bowl appeared, and he gave up his grip on the soiled one without argument, without lifting his eyes.
“I know.” Her response was curious. Normally people would rush to tell him not to worry. That it wasn’t his fault. That he could be better. Be more. Be stronger. If only he would do this one thing. That one thing. Every one thing. “My dad was an addict.”
Better and better. Now he was as hopeless as her father, who’d died because he’d laid hands on Benny’s brother’s girlfriend. It reminded him he had a question, though. “Why are you here?”
“Your sponsor called Ruby. You didn’t pick up, so she called me.” Swallowing hard, he felt the burning in the back of his throat increase, knowing it was from tears rolling down his throat, forced back. “Since she left, you missed group, missed meetings, missed a call from him, but then you reached out last night. He wasn’t available.”
Benny barely remembered picking up the phone, bottle in one hand, the amber-colored liquid whispering promises and lies, phone in the other, a dead end, offering no connection to hook his anchor on this time. “When he got free and called, he said you didn’t answer.” Good news. If his sponsor didn’t know Benny slipped, then he couldn’t have told Ruby. If she’d known, she wouldn’t have sent Lucia. She’d have told Andy, and he’d have flown back. Dropped everything as he always had to do to clean up Benny’s messes. Or he’d have called someone else. Like Bear. Fuck.
“Bear.” Not even aware his mouth was moving, he heard his voice, quavering and sounding stupid with badly hidden tears. “Did you tell him? Anyone?”
“Not yet. I wanted to make sure you were okay first.” The too-hot cloth changed out for a cooler one, and he tipped his head sideways, trapping her fingers for a moment a
gainst his shoulder in silent thanks. “You know what triggered this?”
Her question tugged at his memory like a fishing line. Andy on the phone, telling Benny he and Ruby had spent the day with their mother. Saying she’d changed, pulled her head out of her ass, finally. Twenty years too late. “Andy called. He’s mending bridges with our mom. She wasn’t the best…influence when I was growing up. It was just us, most of the time—me and Andy. My dad’s been dead for years. Since I was five.” She shifted on the cushion, and he turned to look at her for the first time since she woke him. “I’d say it gets easier, but I think this proves that’s a lie people tell to make themselves feel better when they stop talking about things.” He groaned as another wave of nausea broke against his throat, causing him to sway in place on the couch.
“My dad’s been dead nearly nine months.” He remembered that part, counting by months because as they racked up, it became more bizarre that the person was gone so long. That you’d experienced so much without them being around to see. Andy gone, never seeing football games, driving lessons, prom night. Months morphing into years. Time marching on. Ever onward.
“Andy told me what happened.” He shook his head, then stopped when she turned a confused look to him. His eyes swam for a moment, then settled, the two Lucias gradually resolving down into one.
“What happened? What do you mean?” Shit, now he’d put his foot in it. Of course Andy and Bear would protect her from that. No way was she aware of what her father had done. “What did Slate tell you?”
“That he was dead.” Play the ignorant card, see if she believed a minute of it in his state. “What happened?”
“There was a break in.” Her voice quavered, and he hated being the reason she was reliving this pain. “He got shot. At least he went fast.” His stomach was slowly settling, along with the room around him, ceasing wavering and circling as things clicked back into place. Now, time for damage control.
Born Into Trouble (Occupy Yourself Book 1) Page 12