by J. M. Dabney
She saw his expression that screamed how dare she have the audacity to speak to him. His face was marked with bad acne, and he smelled sour like he hadn't bathed in days.
“Followed y'all from town, wanted to have a talk with my—”
“Say my one more time, and you'll lose fucking teeth.”
“Show some respect, boy.” The man's face turned red with anger.
She spun around. “Miles, look at me.” She forced a smile. “I want you to make a phone call.”
Distraction was her top priority. She needed Miles to walk away and call Bret for backup. Murphy wasn't leaving. She knew it. She could see it in his eyes that he thought he had a right to her son. He didn't deserve to be in the same world as Miles. Her boy was sweet and kind, strong and confident. She'd done that. She'd raised this awesome kid even as she told herself she was failing.
“Pop?”
Earlier in the summer, Bret had become Pop and as much as she initially wanted to protest both Bret and Miles brightened over two simple words, Pop and Son. It was something so small and taking that happiness away seemed cruel.
“Yes, call Pop.”
He didn't move just pulled out his phone. That hadn't been the point of him calling Bret. This was always her worst-case scenario in life. That her son would meet the DNA contributor. Murphy touched her shoulder, and she didn't think, just spun and swung, connecting with his jaw. Pain radiated through her hand.
“Don't you fucking touch me,” she hissed through clenched teeth as she resisted shaking her hand to rid the ache in her knuckles.
“Why, you bitch, didn't I teach you enough of a lesson when you tried that shit before?”
His breath was foul as he brought his face near hers. The scent of alcohol almost caused her to retreat. She'd take the pain and insults to keep her son from being hurt. He was weeks away from escaping Brand.
“Made it better when you fought—”
“Motherfucker—”
She pivoted, wrapped herself around Miles and hoped the cops weren't called. It took all her strength to keep her son back. He called Murphy every name in the book, but rapist was yelled the loudest.
“Miles,” Bret's voice was sharp and commanding. “Take care of your mother, son.”
The anger was still there, but her boy seemed to relax as he dragged her away from Murphy.
“Coach, how the hell are ya?” Murphy turned around, happy and friendly as if he hadn't just said that he'd enjoyed raping her because she fought him.
“What the fuck are you doing here, Murph?” Bret spoke through clenched teeth, and she felt so much better when he placed his big body between them and Murphy.
He stood close enough that she felt his warmth and strength.
“I'm getting asked that a lot. Came to see my boy. Saw him in the Brand paper.”
“What my son is doing, isn't your business and I don't like you around my family.”
She'd never heard Bret's voice that deep and dark before, and she became aware of the barely leashed violence in the way the man stood—protected them. Bret was claiming them loudly. Yet the other man was probably too drunk, high or stupid to take the warning. To be truthful, it was probably all three.
Bret seemed to be twice the size of Murphy and blocked the other man out completely. She inhaled the clean scent of Bret she loved so much. She raised her hand to comb her fingers through Miles' soft hair soothingly. Felt his tears wetting her shoulder. She spoke softly and tried to breathe around the tight grasp of Miles' arms around her stomach from behind.
“What are you, boy, a fucking fa—”
Everyone knew what that insult would be, but Bret didn't let the fucker have a chance to finish it. She cringed at the sickening sound of crunching bone or cartilage and had a moment of amusement wondering if the fucker lost teeth.
“You broke my fucking nose.”
“I'll do more than that you call my boy names again and I suggest you fucking leave.”
“Bret, we want to go home.”
She and Miles were suddenly wrapped in Bret's arms. She listened to the soft, gruff tone of Bret's voice as he spoke to Miles. She couldn't make out the words because they were so softly spoken on the other side of Miles' head.
“Come on, son, take your mom home.”
“I want to go to your place.”
Miles sounded like a boy, and sometimes she forgot he was only seventeen.
“Your mom has the key. Go on, I'll be home soon.” Bret kissed the crown of Miles' head. “Are you okay, baby girl?”
She nodded.
“That was a helluva punch, but you endangered yourself. We'll discuss that later.” He pressed a quick kiss to her mouth.
She rolled her eyes as she let Miles secure her into the passenger seat. She impatiently waited as Miles emptied the cart into the trunk and then they were silently on the road. Neither of them spoke as they arrived at the ranch, and put the perishable things in Bret's fridge.
“Come on, baby.” She grabbed Miles' hand knowing her son was barely holding it together. She led him to the guest room, and they curled up on the bed with his head on her shoulder. “I'm so sorry. You weren't ever supposed to meet him.”
“Why did you keep me?” her son's deep voice broke.
“Miles Kilmer, you listen to me, your existence wasn't your fault. I'm not going to lie to you and say it was easy those first few months of my pregnancy. Everything changed. I was kicked out. I went from being a kid getting ready to go off to college to having to figure out how to take care of myself and a baby when I was still a kid myself.”
She'd been frightened, alone, even with her aunt's help that had only extended so much. She'd been told she'd need to have a place for her and the baby before Miles came. The only bright spot in those early days was when Bret had shown up trying to talk her into going back to school. It was nice to have something as small as that be important to someone.
“You may carry around a part of his DNA, but you're nothing like him. You're my son. I raised and loved you. You were the only thing that kept me going. After you were born, I would lie in bed at night and watched you sleep. You were so beautiful. I couldn't imagine not having you, Miles.”
“I always wondered if I looked like him at all.”
She pushed her fingers under his chin and lifted his gaze to hers to look into his brown eyes, which were darker than her own.
“No, exact copy of me.”
“That's what Bret said. I always wanted Bret as my dad,” he said and laid his head back down on her shoulder.
She couldn't help smiling at the shy confession. In that moment, she could pretend that their lives were still normal, like they'd been only hours before.
“You did?”
“Yeah, he was always nice to me and you.”
“He was. I loved when he'd come into the diner.”
“Why didn't you ever say anything to him?”
That was the question she kept asking herself the last few months. She also kept him at a certain emotional distance. That didn't mean she wasn't falling for him.
“I was scared, not of him, but I'd gotten so used to life being just you and me. As the years went on, I guess, it just became a habit.”
“I like the way he treats you.”
“I do too.”
“Be smart, Ma, don't let him get away.”
“I don't really have a say in that, he either wants to stay or doesn't, but that doesn't affect you and him. He's always loved you. Come on, let's take a nap like we used to and I can pretend you're not almost a grown ass man and you're still my little boy for a bit longer.”
She counted his breaths as he drifted to sleep. It was something she did when he was a baby. She listened to his breathing, focused on it, and in those fractions of time, she knew he was alive and safe. Happy and healthy—that she hadn't fucked up. She let those soft whispers of sound sooth the residual anger and fear.
Emotions she'd thought she'd left behind but realized sh
e'd masked them in being a mom. In her journey to always make sure Miles' life was normal, she'd forgotten that she'd had dreams for her life. Dreams that no one else had ever known or were interested in learning. Simple and insignificant for some, but they'd meant the world to her. At least, they used to.
Bret Would Gladly Go to Jail
He remained silent and watchful as Miles quickly loaded the bags into the trunk. Luckily, the cart return was right next to the car. The boy refused to look at Murph. He could feel the rage and overwhelming horror at meeting the man who'd hurt Philly. No matter how long he lived, he'd never forget the phone call. Miles had been close enough for him to listen and he drove faster needing to get to Philly and Miles.
Philly wasn't ready to admit it, but he didn't have that issue. He'd meant what he said—they were his family. At this point, he didn't give a fuck if people assumed that he'd had an inappropriate relationship with his student. And since they'd started seeing each other, he'd heard it mentioned. People looked at him and Miles, speculating. Fuck them. At that moment, he didn't give a fuck about his job or what people thought of him.
Philly and Miles were all that mattered.
Once they were out of sight, he focused all his attention on the bleeding man who was giving him a death glare.
“I suggest you get back in your vehicle and go back to wherever it is you came from. I'll gladly go to jail if you come near Philly or our son again.”
Seeing the bastard again brought back all the anger he'd kept under wraps for eighteen years. He hadn't told Philly, but he'd tried to keep tabs on Murphy, and the arrogant boy hadn't changed any in the time away from Brand. The alcohol, steroids, and drugs had done a number on Murph.
“Should've known you got that cherry first, coach.” Murphy exposed dark yellow teeth as the fucker smiled.
He wouldn't justify that insult with an answer. He tried to relax his hands at his sides. The muscles in his hands pulled, and he wanted to knock the man's teeth out.
“You want to fuck with me…you won't win. You see I don't give a fuck about letting the whole town know what a piece of shit you are. But since I have more respect for Philly and our son, I won't do that unless she gives me permission. That doesn't mean I won't make your life a living hell just as I did in high school. Wouldn't your parents like to know what you've been up to since you failed out of college?”
The man's parents were a sweet couple who'd married right out of high school. He'd hate to hurt them.
“How about the handful of kids you got running around? Or that your ex-girlfriends all have protection orders. Aren't you on probation? Be a fucking shame if the cops get a call about a violation. You leaving the state and all.”
The man had about a decade of prison time hanging over his head. He couldn't appeal to the bastard's human decency since the man didn't have any. He hoped threatening the bastard’s freedom would work.
“You can keep the fat bit—”
A punch landed against the man's soft gut, and he calmly looked around.
“Don't let me find you around town.”
He stepped around the man and slapped him hard on the back, sending Murphy stumbling forward. The more distance he put between them, the faster his steps became. He needed to get home to Miles and Philly. He needed to make sure they were okay.
As he drove to the ranch, every worst-case scenario played out in his head. What if they hadn't called him? He trusted Miles to take care of Philly, but coming face to face with the person that—he shook his head. No way would he ever be able to fully comprehend what had gone through Miles' head.
His woman had held her composure to make sure her son was comforted, but he'd never doubted how strong Philly was. Yet no matter how strong a person was, they all broke at some point.
The thirty minutes home felt like they were the longest of his life as he parked in front of his house. He got out of the truck and when he entered his house it was too quiet. Philly and Miles normally filled his home with laughter. He ascended the steps and checked the guest room Miles used to find him curled up asleep on the bed. He pulled the door shut and made his way to his room. As soon as he walked inside, he heard the shower running.
He pushed open the cracked door to find his woman sitting on the floor of the shower stall. Through the fogged glass walls, he saw she had her legs pulled to her chest. He opened the door to find her silently crying, and he crouched down.
“Baby girl.”
“He wasn't supposed to come back.” Her voice broke so bad as she spoke that he barely made out the words.
“Let me dry you off and then we can cuddle.”
As he straightened, he took Philly's hand and urged her to stand. He turned off the water, grabbed a thick towel and once she was standing on the bathmat, he gently dried her hair and body. He didn't relax until he had her on his bed. He'd stripped off his t-shirt just because he loved the feel of her silky skin against his. He was on his back with her thigh resting on his stomach. He laid his hand on her knee, caressed the fine hairs on her leg as he waited for her to talk.
“I could deal with it, but Miles was never supposed—”
“Miles is strong.”
“I had to tell him over and over that he wasn't like his DNA contributor.” She snorted, “Sounds like I went to a sperm bank.”
She tangled his chest hair around her fingers. When his woman felt unsure about something that was her tell.
“I hate that he got that close to y'all. Do you know I have a private detective do a yearly check in on him?”
She lifted her head and then rested her chin on his chest. “For how long?” Philly asked.
“Seventeen years, since he took off for school.”
“And why did you do that?”
“Even though my interest was completely innocent that didn't mean I didn't want to try and take care of you.”
“No one's ever wanted to take care of me before.”
“When your parents called to tell me you wouldn't be back to school and they'd kicked you out, you don't know how bad I wanted to find you. Dad would've been over the fucking moon to have you and then Miles running around.”
“That wouldn't have looked good at all.”
The most beautiful sound was her happiness, and he did everything within his power to make her laugh or smile. He'd never met another woman who he just wanted to make happy. He combed the fingers of his left hand through her damp hair.
“Do you know why I went to the Sheriff after I overheard that fucker bragging about what he'd done?”
She turned her head to rest her chin on his chest. “Why?”
He raised his head to push his mouth to hers. Philly's lips gave so easily under his, and she didn't hesitate to return the kiss. “He deserved to pay for what he did to you. He went on with his life while…”
Philly's right hand stroked his cheek as she bumped his nose with hers. “He didn't ruin my life. Just sidetracked it a bit.”
“I still wanted him to pay for it.”
“You'll never know what that means to me. After my parents told me to pack what I could carry, I had no idea what I was going to do.”
“Why didn't you just stay with your Aunt Mona?”
“Mona was quite a popular woman back in the day.”
“You don't have to sugar coat it. I heard Mona should've installed a revolving door.”
“I woke up many a night on Mona's couch to her very loud screams. Which didn't help my bitchy hormonal moods and dealing with a first job. But the main reason I didn't stay is she said I had to be out when the baby came.”
“You had circles under your eyes when I'd come in for lunch.”
“If I remember right, you always packed a lunch and ate in the cafeteria.”
“I did, but I suddenly liked the diner food a lot better.”
He curled his hand over the back of her head as she hid her face against his chest.
“You were my best tipper.”
“I always es
caped before you came back to the table with my change.”
Pain seized his chest as teary, amber eyes met his as she stroked her fingertips along his lower lip. She looked so miserable that it broke his heart.
“What's wrong, baby girl?”
“I always thought you pitied me.”
“Never once, baby, did I ever pity you. I was amazed by you. The hell you went through, and you came out on top.”
“I was thinking about taking some classes this fall online. Don't know what I'll do.”
“I think that's a great idea. You were the brightest student. You do have someone who could, ya know, tutor you.”
“You just want to hear me call you, Principal Stoker again.”
He smiled at her laugh and kissed her beautiful smile. He traced the perfect arch of her brows, the slim line of her nose and the sweeping curves of her wide, lush lips.
“You're so beautiful, Philly. I waited fourteen years to be able to say you were mine.”
“Does that mean we're all serious?”
He closed his eyes as she repeated the tracing of his features like he did with hers.
“I'd like to think so. I know we’re not to the let's move in together or whatever stage, but I'm almost fifty, baby girl. I wasted so much time.”
“No, you didn't. Our lives are lived in moments, and maybe I wasn't ready before now. Yes, I was making plans to go to college and promising I would never come back to this town again, but to be honest, I kinda like this better. Who woulda thought the fat, unpopular girl would get the hot teacher turned principal to have her nasty way with whenever she wanted?”
“I'm hungry.” Miles' whiny voice came through the door.
He chuckled as his woman groaned and rolled onto her back, he dropped a quick kiss to her nipple then rolled off the bed. He dug a t-shirt and boxer briefs out of his dresser.
“Get dressed and come down when you're ready.”
He tossed the clothes on the end of the bed and leaned over, his fists sinking into the bed on either side of her head.
“You look so good in my bed.” He let his gaze skim down her gorgeous, thick curves and growled at the peek of her plump pussy and started to lower himself to the bed.