I missed seeing Joe’s rampage, but I’d heard the racket and witnessed the aftermath. I didn’t miss the tormented expression on his face and tried to go after him. I was fully aware that my compulsion to help him was my sickness; I’d been down that road before. It went well beyond a want-it was a need. I knew that I should just pretend not to notice but my brain and body were completely out of sync because I was chasing after him and had already nearly closed the gap between us.
Mac grabbed ahold of me and told me to ‘just let him go’. He said that Graham had kicked him off the site. I screamed at him to leave me the hell alone, but not only did he ignore me, he shook me. Stunned, I finally saw just how freaked out Mac was. His permanent smirk had vanished and he was all serious and pale.
“Molly: I’m not kidding. Joe’s dangerous. I mean it.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” I snapped and yanked out of his grasp, but Joe was long gone by that time. Since I didn’t have his number or any idea where he lived, I was out of options. I called Mac a dirty name, stomped back onto the truck, and went back to chopping.
Stacy finally wandered into the truck with a sheepish look on her pretty face.
“Molly…you aren’t mad, are you?” She twirled her hair like a little girl and I barely looked up from my knife.
“About what?’ I muttered and when she didn’t answer me I stopped working and sat my knife down. She blinked uncomfortably, and I suddenly remembered her less than stealthy exit with Mac the Friday before. “No. I’m not mad. I’m a little traumatized, but not mad.”
“Good.” She beamed at me and she giggled. “Cause I really like him.”
I exhaled threw a clenched smile. “Spectacular.”
Her glance dropped from my face and her expression changed.
“What’s that on your ear?” She moved in a step and her eyes narrowed. “Is that a hicky? You dirty slut!”
I grabbed my purse and rummaged for my compact. Sure enough, Joe left a mark on my earlobe and it was the size of a nickel. I hadn’t even noticed it. I recalled some of the odd looks I’d received from my distributors that morning, and slapped my palm over my face. I pulled the bandana in my hair down over my ears. Stacy folded her arms across her ample chest and her eyes dance with excitement.
“Start talkin’, girl.” She insisted.
“There’s nothing to talk about.” My tone was firm, but Stacy wasn’t easily dissuaded.
“It’s Joe, isn’t it?” I shot her a panicked look before I could gather my wits. She giggled merrily. “He couldn’t take his eyes off of you at Guero’s. It was wild.”
I cringed. “Stacy. You need to drop this. For real.”
Her face fell. “Why do you look so sad?”
“Things happened…but it’s done. We’re not…together.” I sounded icy, and I fought hard to keep my cool. I felt clammy and strange. “Promise me you won’t tell Mac. I’m not joking.’”
“I won’t say a word.” She looked troubled and she reached out for my arm. “I’m sorry, hon. Mac said he’s a real bed hopper. Men just can’t handle grief. I can’t even imagine going through what he went through. I’d be locked up in a rubber room.”
A sinking feeling washed over me at the sight of her disturbed expression and my eyes shot to hers. “What are you talking about?”
I was waiting by Graham’s truck when the crew finally ended their workday. We’d closed down the food truck two hours before, and I’d rummaged through Mac’s car to find his stash of cigarettes. I hadn’t smoked since high school, but I had to do something with all my nervous energy besides cry and blow my nose. Rookie mistake. Now I was coughing and crying and really couldn’t breathe through my nose. I’d known something was wrong with Joe, but the tragedy he’d suffered was unimaginable. Though my stomach churned speculating on the details, I needed to know them. Asking my brothers about it was unthinkable.
Graham exited the hotel with Charlie, and he slowed his step when he spotted me. He waved and looked around as if to see if we had an audience.
“Molly.” He nodded at me, a ponderous look settling in his features. I was making him nervous, presumably because of my puffy eyes and smeared mascara.
“Do you have some time? Like for a cup of coffee, maybe?” I tried not to look desperate, but my eyes pleaded with him. He nodded and tossed his hard hat in the back seat.
“Hop in. There’s a place a few blocks over that isn’t half bad.”
Twenty minutes later, I pushed my pie around on my plate. Graham’s story had wrecked my appetite-probably forever.
The reality of the story was so much worse than anything I could have concocted. Had I had a clue what he’d been through, I probably would have turned and ran in the other direction. I tossed my fork onto the table with a resounding clang and covered my face with my hands. “Oh my god.”
“It’s not a pretty story. And I’m not even doing it justice. Jess’s mom blamed Joe. She physically attacked him. Slapped him…clawed his face. She told him the baby’s death was all his fault for not insisting on the C-section before they operated on Jess. He just stood there and took everything she did to him. Tamryn finally pulled her off of him. Between Jess’s mom and the cops, Joe looked like he’d been in the accident with them.” Picturing Joe’s heartbreak and the impossible call he’d had to make, I felt as if my throat was constricting.
“By the time Mason thought to call me, Joe had been in that hospital room for over twelve hours. He refused to let anyone else hold the baby. When I showed up, the staff was discussing forcibly sedating him just to get the bodies to the morgue. I told Tamryn I’d try to talk to him. Frankly, I was shocked as hell when he let me in the room.” I watched tears sprout in Graham’s eyes and he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I told him ‘son, you have to let these people do their jobs.’ He wouldn’t look at me. He couldn’t take his eyes off Jack’s face. The only thing I heard him say that day was ‘he looks just like me, Jess.’
I just sat with him for about an hour, looking over at Jess’s broken body. Watching Joe bawl and cradle that little boy. Wishing I could think of some words, hell-any words-of comfort. But what was there to say? Then he just stood up and handed Jack to me. He kissed Jess on her cheek and walked out. Molly, I was in the military. Active duty. I’ve seen some horrible things in my time. That was the most terrible day of my life.”
“I think I’m gonna be sick.” I clambered out of the booth knocking over my water glass and ran for the ladies room. By the time I was done, I was sure I’d lost part of my stomach lining. As if I’d been cracking the world’s toughest safe, all of the tumblers slid into place. I sat there on the closed toilet for some time, sifting through the tragedy that had completely dismantled my Joe. After splashing some cool water on my face, I returned to the booth.
“You alright?” His eyes shone with genuine sympathy.
I nodded, choking back the lump in my throat. “Tell me about Amy’s Ice Cream.”
He shrugged, his face looking five years older than it had when we’d walked into the restaurant. “That’s where they met. While waiting in line.”
I raked my hand through my bangs, trying to decide if I needed to vomit again.
“Why didn’t Mac and Mason tell me any of this?” My head throbbed and I could barely breathe through my nose. “I didn’t even know he got married.”
He tilted his head at me as if my question were asinine. “You know those boys better than anyone. They can’t handle their feelings for shit. They were groomsman at the wedding. The two of them had to carry Jack’s casket at the funeral.”
I gaped at him. Just when I thought I’d heard it all, another horror popped up like I was playing a morbid version of Whack-a-mole. Every muscle in my body ached and I felt like all my double shifts had caught up with me at once. “Jesus, Graham.”
“Molly, you’d be smart to walk away. It’d be the healthy thing to do, I’m sure. I know it makes me a selfish ass, but I really hope you won’t.” He looked ver
y uncomfortable with the topic, but he maintained eye contact nonetheless.
I blinked uncomfortably. “Graham, Joe and I…we’re not—”
“I saw the two of you in his truck, Kid, remember?” He shook his head and raised his hand dismissively. “The fact that he came to Mason’s in the first place had everything to do with you.”
I nervously tapped my straw on the table my eyes darting around at the water-stained ceiling. The promises I’d made to myself weren’t something I could just easily toss aside. I’d lost myself once to Draven. His primary talent was making his mark feel like the single most important person in the world.
Taken in by his charm and the need to please him, I’d adapted so much that by the time he was done with me I was unrecognizable. The night I popped open his glove compartment searching for Tylenol and found a pair of stranger’s panties instead, I swore I’d never shelve my own needs to make room for someone else’s happiness again. Never.
I tossed my straw onto my untouched pie and shook my head. I couldn’t fix Joe. I wasn’t arrogant enough to try. And with my trust issues, I wasn’t up for the challenge of a typical relationship, let alone the minefield of Joe Jensen.
“I don’t…I can’t.” Under the circumstances I was having trouble stringing a coherent sentence together. “I just can’t think straight. I appreciate you telling me, Graham. So many things make more sense now.”
Not knowing Graham well, his expression was difficult to decipher. It didn’t take a genius to see that it wasn’t a happy one. “Come on. I’ll take you back to the truck.”
After a long bubble bath and a couple of mugs of green tea, I finally felt some semblance of calm. I’d managed to eat a little something, and I’d been listening to soft music in hopes of mellowing. I needed to catch up on some sleep, but clearing my mind of the horrors of my day proved impossible. All I could think about was Graham’s story.
With a huge yawn, I stumbled to the front door to check the deadbolt before heading off to bed. I’d already texted Sanchez and Stacy and told them we’d only be doing lunch the next day. I hated to lose out on the profits, but I really needed the time. I reached out to flip the deadbolt when a knock on the door practically made me jump out of my skin. Stifling a scream, I opened the door as far as the chain lock allowed.
Joe.
Though his blood shot eyes locked onto mine, he appeared lost and seemed to be looking through me. I took a deep breath before fumbling like a lunatic with the chain. I swung the door wide, but he didn’t move. He hadn’t changed from his work clothes. The knees of his jeans were badly grass-stained, and I was certain his stricken face would haunt my dreams forever.
In an instant, I saw with perfect clarity that any protest I’d made aloud to Graham or to myself was ludicrous. I’d never had any hope of denying Joe anything he ever asked of me. Though I’d never been anything more than a silly little girl to him, he’d always been it for me.
And a fractured Joe was better than no Joe at all.
I stepped forward and gently wrapped my arms around his waist, breathing in his scent at the hollow of his neck. It was sixty degrees outside, but he was cold to the touch and shivering terribly. I released him and led him inside by the arm, quickly locking the door behind us. When I turned back to face him, he seemed disoriented. He clumsily reached for me and gripping my robe with both of his fists, he pulled me back into a tight embrace. My heart ached for him and for me. I slipped my arms around him and tightened my grasp on his shoulders. I knew that it wasn’t me he wanted, but his eyes told me all I needed to know. He craved this. He was starved for any sort of human contact and I was there.
I took him into my room and guided him to sit on the edge of the bed. He sat obediently, glancing absently around as if he’d never seen my room before. I unlaced his boots and pulled them off, then reached for the waist of his jeans. He grabbed both of my wrists so suddenly that it startled me and I gasped aloud. His eyes shot to mine and he pulled me into him, burying his face between my breasts. I was already addicted to Joe’s touch, and felt a little guilty at how good it felt to feel needed. I smoothed my hands over his hair in a frantic attempt to soothe him.
I fully understood Graham’s inability to find words. As I stood there with Joe clinging to me, I was at a complete loss for anything to say. All I could do was hold him and allow him to hold me. Tilting my chin to my chest, I pressed my lips to the top of his head and I felt him sigh against me.
When he finally loosened his hold on me, I crawled onto bed and pulled the covers up over us. He curled into me, nuzzling his cheek against my chest like a child. The dim light from the bathroom revealed his breathtaking face, and the peaceful look on it made me sigh. I couldn’t resist planting a gentle kiss on his forehead as I stroked his back until he fell asleep.
For a long time after, I lay awake listening to his steady breathing. I held him possessively; knowing I’d already given myself over to him, not a piece at a time like I had with Drae, but all at once. Shoving myself at him like a stack of poker chips.
All in.
It wasn’t even a choice. This was Joe. As far as Joe was concerned, I’d never had free will.
I woke sometime later to his soft lips on mine. His hand slid my robe aside and out of his way. Only half awake, I arched into his touch. I knew I should stop him. Instead, I rolled him onto his back and straddled him. I made love to him as if in a dream. Slowly. Silently.
Selfishly.
The next morning when I woke up alone, I wasn’t surprised. Not even a little bit.
I was relieved.
THE RECEPTIONIST NODDED to the inner door as I came into the office. I gave her a tight smile and walked right past. As I entered the room, my psychiatrist, Dr. Greene looked up and gave me a nod.
“Hello, Joe. Grab yourself some coffee or a bottle of water if you like.” He closed the journal he had been writing in, picked it up and strode across the room. Opening a heavy metal file cabinet, he placed it inside before turning to regard me. “So how’ve you been?”
It was an open ended question. Exactly the kind of thing he loved to ask and the sort of seemingly trivial thing that would have set me off not so long ago. After my night with Molly, I called his office and started coming to see him twice a week. Showing up on her doorstep like I had hadn’t been fair to either of us. Now I couldn’t face her. I’d broken my own rules and on top of that, I’d fucked with a girl that deserved better.
Graham had called and left me a message telling me to take some time off. I didn’t question his judgment or blame him in the slightest. When I took a hard look at myself I didn’t like what I saw. I was starting to spiral again and was in danger of dragging everyone down with me.
Dr. Greene had been surprised when I showed up early for my very next appointment. He’d seemed even more shocked when I tried hard to get something out of it. The first few visits were disastrous. I felt like we were talking in circles. But after a while we got a feel for one another and made some progress.
It was slow and not free of setbacks, but I was participating. I owed it to everyone in my life to pull myself together, at least enough to stop fucking up all the time. So instead of getting angry at his inane question, I actually stopped to consider before I answered. I’d been keeping busy. I decided to finish my apartment and after a lot of serious elbow grease, I was finally ready to paint the walls. I’d done a little body work on my Ford with Mason’s assistance, and the night before I went out with him and Mac to play darts. We had some laughs, and though I was conflicted about it, there was no denying it felt good.
Normal.
That always seemed to be when the darkness crept in.
“Okay, I guess. I don’t know…”
“Well, sit down and tell me what’s troubling you.” He indicated to the furniture. I forced a smile and grabbed a bottle of water from the liquor-less bar. I walked over and sat on the couch. He had a giant leather chaise for those that wanted the ‘authentic shrink expe
rience’ as he called it. It looked too much like a hospital bed for me to ever want anything to do with it.
“Thanks for seeing me on such short notice, Doc. I’m going to my sister’s for Thanksgiving tomorrow and I want to make sure I’m level before I head out. I hope you weren’t planning on going out of town. I don’t want to cut in on your family time.”
Dr. Greene gave me a gentle smile as he took his seat. “Not at all. My family is coming to our house and truth be told you actually got me out of picking up a few people from the airport. So for that, I thank you. Now, you said you wanted to talk about something important.”
I nodded.
“Look, Doc. I know you have put up with a lot of shit from me.” His surprised look was only there for an instant before it was replaced with the neutral expression I equated with his ‘listening’ face. “It can’t be easy having someone come in here and resist every treatment you try.”
“Joe,” He sighed. “I may have been appointed by the court to determine when you have control of your anger issues, but it’s my job to listen and advise you. I’m your physician. I’m here, so let’s talk.” He took the lid off of his pen and waited for me to continue.
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. It was time, long past time, that I talked to someone. And Dr. Greene was my best option.
Who am I kidding? Not my best option, just the least complicated.
Sitting forward, I looked down at the floor and rested my forearms on my knees. I had to focus. If I was going to do this, I needed to get it all out before I broke down like a fucking baby. Taking another fortifying breath I glanced up at him, and then looked back at the floor.
“She lied to me.” I saw him stiffen out of the corner of my eye. “Jessica. Purposefully and systematically lied. Maybe she was sick. I have done a lot of reading about gambling addiction, but it hasn’t helped me. It doesn’t explain away how someone that is supposed to love me, to be on my side, could so utterly betray me.” I was suddenly unable to sit still. Jumping up I started pacing the room, trying to get my thoughts into some kind of order.
Good Wood (Carved Hearts) Page 11