by J. Daniels
Brah?
Is this kid serious?
I shake my head, advising, “Okay. Quit with the nicknames already. We aren’t friends. Even if we were? You sound like a fuckin’ douchebag. Just talk normal.”
Tessa snickers.
“Free country, guy.”
I close my eyes and breathe deep, searching for calm. Don’t do it. Don’t do it. Hitting him again will bring you nothing but trouble. Then looking to Tessa, I suggest, “Can we just go? I’ve seen enough, and two more seconds of this conversation and I’m gonna get arrested. No joke.”
My wife, who seems to be enjoying the hell out of herself right now, and in no way looks scared anymore, tilts her head with a smile.
The clown laughs, causing the muscles in my shoulders to tense up. “Come on, amigo, don’t be weak,” he says. “Weber’s is for kids. It’s sad if you can’t handle it.”
I glare at the piece of shit and step closer until I’m up in his space, adrenaline coursing through me now. “You want to say that to me again?” I ask.
Fuck this prick. Don’t be weak? I will gladly spend a night in jail if it means shutting him the fuck up. I’m not even sorry I hit him anymore.
Before the guy has the chance to repeat himself, Tessa quickly wraps her hands around my neck and kisses my cheek. “Come on. It can’t get that much worse,” she whispers. “Let’s keep going.”
I look at her. “You sure? You were pretty fuckin’ scared.”
“I’m sure. You’ll protect me.”
“You know, it’s typically the guys making their girls push through this,” the clown shares. “Funny how this is the other way around.”
I slowly turn my head.
The clown jerks back like he’s afraid I’m going to hit him. Then, thinking wisely for the first time in his life, I’m betting, he backs away from me, his hands raised defensively as he pleads, “Cool. Stay cool, bro,” before spinning around and running off. He turns a corner, but his voice carries in the wind.
“Be ready for anything, sport! And don’t say I didn’t warn you!”
“Jesus Christ,” I grumble, looking to the sky. “That kid is gonna get decked a lot in his life. Nobody should use that many fuckin’ nicknames. It’s not normal.”
“I can’t believe you punched him. You’re such a dick.” Tessa smiles up at me when I meet her eyes. “Aw.” She touches the furrow in my brow, pressing closer, and wraps her arms around my neck. “I love you so much right now, babe. It’s crazy.”
“’Cause I punched him, or ’cause I’m hatin’ every second of this?” I ask her.
“Both.” She smiles again when I shake my head. “Really though, I know you didn’t want to come to here. I know you. You think these things are stupid . . .”
“You ask, babe. Whatever it is, I’m there. You know that.”
“I know.” She tilts her head up, inviting me for a kiss I take zero seconds to fucking get in on. “Thank you for bringing me.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Now let’s hurry up and get through this because I am seriously freaked out.”
I lean back to glare at her. “I fuckin’ knew it. You don’t want to be here either, do you?”
She shrugs, smiling as she slips her arms off my shoulders. “It does seem a little too real, right?”
“You think?”
“It can’t get that much worse though. Weber would be paying for everyone’s therapy and lose the farm. It isn’t like they made us sign any waivers when we bought our tickets. They’re liable for any psychological damage.”
I rub at my mouth, thinking on this.
Tessa has a point.
That clown could’ve been bluffing. The little prick would do something like that just to mess with me.
Paybacks are a bitch.
Doesn’t explain the freaked-out kid, though . . .
Christ. Whatever. Pushing that memory out of my head, I grab Tessa’s hand and lead her down the path. “Let’s just get this shit over with. I need a drink.”
“Me too.”
We move deeper into the woods. Around the next curve, we see three witches hanging from a tree. There’s a mob standing there watching, pitchforks and torches raised, while they chant out “Cursed!” and “Begone, devil worshippers!” The fog grows thicker at our feet and rises to waist level.
We keep going, Tessa staying pressed against my side until she sees a graveyard and tombstones up ahead.
“Ooh. Let’s go read what’s on them,” she suggests, pulling away from me to step off the path.
“Go for it.”
I stuff my hands in my pockets and stay where I am.
When I hear a branch break, my head whips around and my muscles tighten. Eyes narrowed at the tree line, I stare into the darkness and watch for movement.
“Aw, these aren’t scary. Here lies Bea. A. Fraid. Lame! Luke, come look. Some of these are kind of funny.”
My phone vibrates in my pocket. I turn around and dig it out, saying, “Just read them to me,” as I swipe my thumb across the screen.
I look at the message from Ben.
Mia’s pregnant. We just found out today. She wanted to tell Tessa first, but I’m thinking hearing it from you might be better. Not sure how she’s gonna react.
The sound of Tessa’s soft laugh lifts my head, and the words pour out of my mouth before I have the chance to even think about what I’m saying, how I’m saying it, if I should be fucking saying it at all. They just come out.
Words that could kill her. I just say them.
“Mia’s pregnant.”
Tessa stands from the squatting position she was in and blinks at me. “What?” she asks, voice quiet.
My shoulders pull back.
That what isn’t because she didn’t hear me. I know she heard me.
That what is just another way of saying what the fuck?
Why them? Why not us?
“Your brother just texted me,” I tell her, stuffing my phone away without giving him a response. He knows what I’m dealing with. “They wanted you to know first. They just found out. Hey . . .”
Tessa starts shaking her head, her hand coming up to cover her mouth and her eyes lowering to the dirt. “I did it again,” she murmurs. “I can’t believe I did it again.”
I move closer, staring hard at her face and trying to see her better. “You did what again?”
What is she talking about?
“I felt . . . I don’t know, angry. I was angry at Mia. That’s the first thing I felt, Luke.” She looks at me then, and even though it’s dark and the light is shadowing her face, I know she has tears in her eyes. “The same thing happened when Beth told us on girls’ night that she was pregnant. I got pissed off. I got pissed off because she was pregnant and I wasn’t. How could I feel that? That’s so fucked up. And to Mia and Ben? God . . . what the fuck? Seriously? How could I feel that toward my best friend and my brother? What’s wrong with me?”
“Babe—”
“What’s wrong with me, Luke?” she repeats, her voice cracking. “I’m serious. There’s something wrong with me. I know there is. God . . . this shouldn’t be hard! Everyone else is getting pregnant. So why not us? I don’t get it! Is it something I did? Is it something I’m not doing? I know five months isn’t that long for some people, but I’m not some people. So what? What is it?” A sob catches in her throat. Her fists clench, shaking as she raises them next to her face.
Tessa looks ready to scream or cry or both.
I can’t breathe. Seeing her like this—it fucking kills me.
I move, needing to get to her. Needing to touch her somehow. But just as I’m about to reach out and pull her into my arms, Tessa rounds the tombstone she’s standing in front of to get back out onto the path and charges ahead.
“Let’s just go,” she says, staying just out of my reach, her feet hurrying her. “Let’s just keep going and get the fuck out of here. I can’t be here anymore. I can’t—” her voice cuts with a
scream when a figure lunges out of the shadows, and Tessa reacts, no hesitation, throwing one helluva punch.
The figure hits the ground, groaning.
Lots of groaning.
Exactly the way he did the first time . . .
“Oh fuck,” I mumble, eyes wide and locked on the guy who is absolutely going to fucking sue us. No doubt about that now.
“Dude! Again?” he bellows.
Hands raised, I watch the clown slowly get to his feet and adjust his mask. “Wasn’t me. Swear to God. I was back there,” I say, looking over at Tessa and expecting her to confirm my innocence. “Babe?”
Tessa has her hand covering her mouth and her head lowered, keeping her face out of view.
My gut tightens. I feel nauseous and ready to knock this idiot out again just to get some fucking privacy with my woman, until Tessa’s soft, breathy laugh pushes out from between her fingers. Her shoulders begin to jerk.
I smile.
Running a hand over my hair, I start laughing then too. I can’t help it.
“Oh. Nice. Real nice. You both are major assholes, you know that?” the clown asks. “Fuck you very much. My mom is going to freak out on me now. Two black eyes? We’re getting family pictures tomorrow!”
Tessa leans into me, laughing harder now. She lowers her hand from her mouth to grip the Henley thermal I’m wearing.
I wrap my arms around her and bury my face in her hair, my entire body shaking against hers.
“I think it’d be best if you both just go.”
Not a bad idea.
“Babe?” I lean away to see her face.
This is her call.
Briefly meeting my eyes, Tessa nods and then looks at the clown. “We’re going. This place sucks balls,” she tells him before spinning around so I can lead her back the way we came.
“Sucks balls? You both just can’t handle it!”
“Go get some ice, junior!” I holler, causing Tessa to fall into a laughing fit again, her head hitting the side of my chest when I pull her closer and her arm circling my waist.
“Don’t make fun of me, guy! That’s so not cool!”
“Dumb fuckin’ idiot. I told you that kid was gonna end up getting punched a lot in his life,” I murmur against the top of Tessa’s head as we follow the path. We pass a group of teenage girls who look two seconds away from turning around and following us out. “Didn’t think it’d be my woman doing it though. That was fuckin’ hot, babe.”
Tessa remains quiet.
When I tilt my head down to look at her, I can see her eyes are lost in focus on the dirt. She’s not smiling anymore or laughing at what just happened.
She’s back inside her head again. Worrying. Wondering. Most likely thinking the worst about herself in terms of reacting the way she did and the shit we’re going through.
That’s just it though—we’re going through it. She’s not alone. And it’s my fault if she thinks she is. I should’ve made sure Tessa knew I was with her months ago when I first started seeing signs of concern. I should’ve brought it up, even if it did mean upsetting her even more.
When you pick at a wound, it bleeds. But we should’ve been talking about this.
Her question from minutes ago circles around in my head. I can still hear it. Only now, I’m wondering the same thing.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
“Babe.”
Tessa’s body stiffens at the sound of my voice. She blinks, sending a tear rolling down her cheek, and turns her face so it’s buried against my side and I can’t watch her break apart.
Regrets sits like a heavy weight pressing on my chest. It’s unforgiving.
Maybe it should be.
I didn’t say a fucking word to her, and I should’ve.
“Come here.” I stop walking then and bend down, slide one arm underneath Tessa’s knees, and pick her up so she’s cradled against my front. “I love you. I love you so fuckin’ much. Nothing’s changing that,” I tell her, needing her to know this in case she’s questioning it.
Tessa sniffles and lets me carry her the rest of the way. She doesn’t fight it. Her hand slides around my neck as she presses her face against the underside of my jaw. Her tears, wet and warm, soak into my skin.
“Shh,” I whisper against her hair.
We pass the freak with the bottle. The zombies. The bodies wrapped and bleeding through the white sheets.
Nothing stops me. Nothing turns my head or pauses my steps. I’m focused on her and getting us out of here.
I don’t give a shit about any of this.
We get to the parking lot and reach my truck in the far back corner.
I manage to open the passenger side door without putting her down and climb in, keeping Tessa in my arms and sitting her on my lap. There’s no point separating and getting in on the driver’s side. I’m not going anywhere and risking a wreck, knowing full well where my attention is going to stay. And we sure as hell are not having this conversation without my hands on her. I’d go fucking crazy and cause a wreck myself just so I could pull her into my arms.
I close the door and slide Tessa’s legs closer to my hip so she’s facing me more, her weight sitting on my knees and her back against the dash. The silence in the truck is heavy around us and thick in the air. I can’t stand it.
And there’s not a damn thing she needs to say right now. This is all me.
“Good or bad, if this works out or if it doesn’t, tell me you know—I’m not going anywhere.” I pause, meeting her eyes when she lifts them off my shirt.
She blinks.
I swallow the lump forming in my throat. “Tell me I’ve done my fuckin’ job as your man, Tessa, and made sure you aren’t doubting that. ’Cause if I haven’t and that’s what’s got you stuck in your head thinkin’ the worst the way you’re doing right fuckin’ now, the way I’ve watched you do the past five months, my life might as well end right here, ’cause I don’t deserve shit. Not you. Not anything more than this. Nothing.”
“Luke,” she whispers, lips trembling as those damn tears well up in her eyes again.
“I’m a fuckin’ asshole,” I continue on. “I know what I am. I know what I’ve done and all the bad I got coming to me. I haven’t exactly been a model son. More times than I can count, I’ve been a worthless friend. I’m basically a prick to everyone. And landing you? Fuck, that was . . . I don’t know. Crazy fuckin’ luck, or maybe the universe cutting me a break for once in my goddamned life. I’ve been shit on a lot, but that doesn’t mean I’m worth dick. I know that. And the good you give me, babe? The good I feel every fuckin’ day knowing I’m attached to you is more good than I ever fuckin’ deserve to feel. I know it is. I’m not stupid. Honest to God, I basically walk around waiting for you to figure it out and question what the fuck you’re even doing with me. So you gotta know, Tessa, if this is it? If we can’t have a kid for whatever reason and it’s just me and you for the rest of our lives? I’m good. Babe, I am so fuckin’ good. I might not walk around grinning like a fuckin’ idiot every second of the day like Reed does, or get that stupid, fuckin’ dopey look on my face like Ben when he talks about Mia, but I’m right there. I’m just as fucked over you, and nothing’s ever changing that. Kid or no kid. Ask me.”
Tessa goes to wipe the tears from her cheeks but I do it for her, then keep my hands on either side of her face, pulling her in so our foreheads are touching.
“Ask me,” I say again, watching her mouth twitch. “I don’t need anything else. I swear to God, I don’t.”
“But you want kids,” she whispers.
“I want you. Everything else is just bonus.”
Tessa breathes deep, her hands sliding up my chest to my neck and holding there. “Mia thinks I’m stressing out too much, and that’s why I haven’t gotten pregnant yet.”
“She might be right.”
Makes sense. Not that I’m a fucking expert on it or anything, but I know what stress can do to a person. I know it can make you sick.
I watched it happen to my dad after my mom died.
“I don’t know,” Tessa says, moving her fingers back and forth on my neck. “I worry it isn’t. And I can’t get that worry out of my head. I want to give you this so bad, Luke, and I might not be able to. I don’t know if I can handle that.”
“So know I can handle it, and focus only on that,” I say, watching the way her lips press together. “I’m serious. If you think I haven’t thought about every fuckin’ way this could play out, Tessa, you’re wrong. I’m ready. If we can’t do this on our own and end up seeking help from some doctor, and still, nothing? I can handle it. If we look into adopting and that shit doesn’t pan out? Fine. I told you, I’ll be good no matter what happens.”
“Why wouldn’t adopting pan out for us?” she asks, sounding confused as she leans back to see me better.
My brows raise. “Don’t you gotta be interviewed for shit like that?”
“I don’t know. I guess.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, babe, but we’re both assholes. It’s why we fuckin’ work. And I’m betting whoever is interviewing us is gonna figure that out real quick and shut that shit down, labeling us unsuitable or whatever the fuck. No way is anyone willingly giving us a kid once they meet us. I can’t act nice. And you basically hate everyone.”
A low, sweet laugh pushes past Tessa’s lips.
I drop my head against the seat, smiling for the first time in what feels like days, my limbs lighter now and that weight shifting off my chest. “So yeah, worst-case scenario, like I said, I’m good,” I tell her, dropping my hands to her hips. “Know that, and don’t ever forget it. I will always be good with just this. Okay?”
Her shoulders drop on an exhale, and she nods her head. “Okay.”
“Quit stressing.”
“Quit thinking you don’t deserve the world, Luke, because you do.”
I cock my head.
She cocks hers, brows lifting in challenge.
“Christ. Is this gonna be an argument?” I ask.
“No. Not unless you agree. You deserve my good. You always will, even when you’re being the world’s biggest prick, which is like, most weekdays and every major holiday.”