More Than Memories: A Second Chance Standalone Romance

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More Than Memories: A Second Chance Standalone Romance Page 24

by N. E. Henderson


  Of course, it helps to know that wasn’t Kylie’s intent. She just can’t see any amount of sunshine right now. She may never see it again. I hope that’s not the case, but I’ve been where she is. At least on some level, I do. I know what it’s like to lose the person you love most and think you’ll never get them back.

  “Anyway, I still want to talk to you. Tell you I miss you. Tell you I wish you were here instead of there. You know what I mean. Tell Whit I said, ‘hi’ and I’m thinking about all of you. I love you, Shaney. Tell her, I love her too. I’m not sure I’ve shown her that yet. I will, though. I promise. Night. Oh, and let’s never bring this crap up. Kay.”

  The video ends, and I click the phone off without replying. I’ll text her back in the morning. Reaching over Whit, I place the phone back on my nightstand, sitting it next to hers.

  As I lie back down, I see Love grinding her teeth. A smile breaks out that I can’t hold back.

  “Are you jealous?” I laugh, unable to help myself, knowing I’m right.

  “I don’t know? Am I the crap in your life? According to her, I am.” She moves off me, settling her head on the pillow next to mine and crossing her arms.

  I’m stunned for all of a minute, watching her sulk. This is uncharacteristic of the girl I once knew. Then again, she isn’t a girl anymore. She’s a woman. A beautiful, sexy as sin, woman that will hold my heart in the palm of her hand until the day I take my last breath. Probably even after that.

  “Love,” I draw out, waiting for her to look at me. When she does, I continue. “I see what it looks like. But you know Ky. And if you think about it for two seconds then you know why she’s coming across that way.”

  “No, Shane, I don’t know. I haven’t known her in years. A decade,” she bites out. “And people can change in that amount of time.”

  I breathe hard, not wanting to talk about Trent but knowing I need to make her understand.

  “Less than a year ago, her world, her future, was ripped away from her in a blink of an eye. One minute she was happy, in love, and planning a future. The next she was alone. Kylie has never been alone in her entire life. She has never been without affection. You gotta remember how touchy-feely she was and how much she craved physical touch?” I pause, letting my words sink in. Eventually, she nods. “She craves attention; not in a bad way. She doesn’t want me like that. But she does want something familiar; something she can cling to for a little while longer. She hasn’t actually dealt with Trent’s death. She’ll only talk to me about him, and even then, she’s closed off and distant with her feelings.”

  Whitney is quiet for longer than I expect. The jealousy has been wiped from her face, but something still remains. Something . . . sad. Something I want to crush and make disappear.

  “I know all too well the things Kylie is feeling. And I owe her a lot.” That makes Love’s face turn; her eye’s flicking up to mine, wanting me to continue. “The first semester of college I’d show up for my classes, mostly, but I didn’t participate. I couldn’t tell you now, what any class was about. I don’t remember them. The only reason I passed those classes was because Kylie did all my assignments. I probably flunked my exams. My parents tried to get me to take off a year, but I refused. I couldn’t come home. I couldn’t be there and be alone.”

  “Why did this happen to us?” Before I can respond she spouts out another question. “What were you going to say before she texted?”

  Is she ready to hear this? I hope so, because I’m going all in.

  “I need to know this is forever. No bullshit. Your parents nor anyone else can make you doubt us—this.” I grab her hand, interlocking our fingers and squeezing tight, just before the point of causing her pain. I need her to know I want us solid, whole, unbreakable.

  “You forgive me for keeping that from you?”

  “Yes. And you knew that before those words ever left your mouth. I can be mad. I can be hurt and still want you. Still love you.”

  “I believe in us. I want us, too.” She squeezes my hand back. “Forever.”

  Leaning down, I cover her mouth with my own, kissing her and making damn sure she feels everything coursing through my body. My dick twitches, coming to life and needing to be inside her. If I could live inside her forever, I would.

  She drives me mad in both good ways and bad. But there’s no one that’s ever made me feel a shred of the things she does.

  “You know I have plenty of leftovers from yesterday. I wish you would take some with you.”

  I look up from where I’m posted against the railing on my parents’ front porch to see my mom pursing her lips at me as she steps out of the house.

  “And it’s better served by taking it to the homeless shelter in town, Mom.” She was already going to do that anyway. I don’t know why she’s so insistent on making sure I’m fed.

  “Fine.” She closes the door behind her. “Have you thought any more on what your dad suggested last night?”

  “No.” I deadpan. “I haven’t had time, but I will.” She looks at me like only a mom can do, silently telling me I better. “I promise, Mother.”

  “You know if there is anything you need, anything at all, you just have to ask, Shane.”

  “I’m good. We’re good.” I nod my head to the yard, making her look that way where Whit and the girls are waiting for me.

  “I’m sure you are, but I know you have to get ready for your boards in July. I remember how stressful that can be, and if there is anything your dad and I can do to make your life—their life—less stressful, then we’re here and willing to help wherever we can.”

  “You had a husband and two kids by the time you and dad were finishing residency. I got this, Mom. Stop worrying.”

  “I’ll never stop worrying, Shane. It’s impossible. You’ll understand soon enough. Being a parent is the hardest and scariest thing you’ll ever experience in life.” She smiles. “You’ll find out soon enough what I mean. It’s also the most amazing and wonderful thing you’ll experience.”

  A scream from the yard makes me twist around, ready to charge whatever has Emersyn in a fit.

  “No,” she hollers. “I don’t wanna go.” Her arms tighten around Everly’s leg like she’s holding on for dear life. “I’m not going without Evlee.”

  Blake.

  It’s his weekend with her. That’s where we are headed as soon as we leave my parents. Even though the fucker has joint custody, because he works and Whitney doesn’t, she’s able to keep Emersyn during the week and only having to part with her every other weekend.

  Even that’s too much.

  Whitney grabs Emersyn, attempting to pull her off her sister, but by the looks of it, she’s not succeeding.

  My mother’s laugh catches my attention, making me turn to face her once again.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Just remembering you and Shawn when y’all were kids. The only difference between them and you and your brother is that Everly doesn’t mind Emersyn hanging all over her. Yet,” she adds. “When Trent came along you no longer wanted to play with Shawn.”

  “Thanks, Mom. Way to make me feel like crap.” Not that I don’t already for what I said last night.

  “Bud, that’s what siblings do. Some are inseparable; others aren’t. Some even can’t stand each other. No pair is alike, just like all people aren’t the same. Every human being is unique and different in some way, and that’s what makes us all special in God’s eyes. I wish we humans understood that more.”

  “I agree with you. Now give your favorite son a hug before I leave.” That gets a chuckle out of her as she shakes her head. I embrace my mother, knowing I’m not her favorite because she doesn’t truly have a favorite. But I know and she knows, she’s closer relationship-wise to my little brother just like I’m closer to my dad than Shawn is.

  “I love you, Bud.”

  “I love you too, Mom.”

  Pulling away, she looks out into the front yard where Whitney is still tryin
g to pull Emersyn off her sister.

  The kid has determination. I’ll give her that.

  “Take care of them.” She turns, looking back at me with a more serious look.

  “You doubt me?” I have a hard time believing that.

  “Of course not. It’s just . . .” She trails, her head rolling to look back at them again.

  “It’s just what?”

  Her eyes rise to meet mine, showing me she’s worried. Maybe even border-lining fear. “I have a bad feeling is what.”

  “Stop worrying, Mom. Jacob will get everything straightened out eventually.” At least I hope so. Wednesday is the court hearing for their divorce, and I won’t be able to attend. I can’t take off with others already scheduled off.

  She places her palm on my shoulder as she turns to head back inside but pauses, looking over her shoulder at me. “I had this same feeling before my best friend took her life, Shane. It’s not a good feeling, and I thought, back then, if I had done something maybe Lynn would still be here.” She breathes, visibly trying to hold back tears that want to fall. “I don’t want anything to happen to those three, or you, Bud. Just be careful okay?”

  “Okay, Mom.” I don’t know why she’s that worried. I would never take my own life, and I know Whitney wouldn’t either. We’ve just gotten each other back. We have a future now, and I’m not letting anything jeopardize that.

  When the door to my parents’ house closes, I pull out my phone from the inside of my jean pocket and shoot a text to my brother.

  Me: Call me when you get up.

  Almost immediately I see the delivered notification under my message turn to read, but after waiting, he doesn’t respond, prompting me to type out another one.

  Me: When you decide to stop sulking like a 5 year old, call me.

  Shawn: Fuck you.

  I get out of the text app and call my brother. It rings once but then goes to voicemail telling me he declined the call.

  Shaking my head, I hammer out another text.

  Me: I don’t want to apologize in a text. Call me.

  Shawn: AGAIN, FUCK YOU.

  God, he makes me want to kick his ass.

  I’m about to call him again when something tackles my leg.

  Looking down, Emersyn starts trying to climb my leg. I quickly pocket my phone.

  “Emersyn Rose,” Whitney scolds.

  Bending, I grab her under her armpit and the back of her leg, pulling her up and anchoring her to my side. She’s profusely shaking her head from side to side. “Don’t make me go, Shaney. I don’t wanna.” She wraps her arms around my neck and buries her little face in my neck, making my heart crack because I don’t want her to go to her father’s any more than she obviously doesn’t want to go.

  Something has to be done. It’s not right that he has joint custody, or hell, any rights at all.

  I squeeze her. “Em,” I began as Whitney steps up to the front patio. I shake my head, silently telling her to let me handle this. “Look at me, monkey.”

  “No,” she refuses. “Momma’s making me go, and it’s not fair. Evlee doesn’t have to.”

  “It’s only for two nights. And I’ll personally come pick you up on Sunday.” Whitney’s eyes widen, clearly not liking that idea. I don’t care though, not about that. It’s high time I give that motherfucker a piece of my mind.

  I raise an eyebrow, letting her know I don’t want to hear any arguments. She huffs in response. Tough shit.

  Emersyn pulls back, looking me in the eyes as crocodile tears fall from each eye. “Promise?”

  “Yes, monkey. I promise.”

  “Fine,” she pouts and then sniffles as she lays her head down on my shoulder.

  “Let’s go,” I say to Whitney. Then I wait for her to descend the stairs, following behind her to my Tahoe.

  Jacob is going to have to figure out a way to get Blake Lane out of our lives one way or another.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Whitney Lane

  “See ya, Ev,” I tell her as she gets out of the car on Monday morning to head into school.

  “Bye, Evlee,” Emersyn chimes in after me. Looking in the rearview mirror, she’s smiling brightly at her big sister.

  Everly waves as she shuts the door. Emersyn’s smile drops, being replaced with a scowl as she looks at me in the mirror. Oh, she’s going to be a handful today. She crosses her arms, as if confirming my thoughts.

  “I’m not going back to daddy’s.”

  “Em,” I say in a pacifying voice.

  “I’m. Not.” Her head cocks, challenging me, and if we weren’t in a car, in the school carpool lane, I’d . . .

  My train of thoughts are interrupted by the ringing of my phone. Grabbing it from the console, I answer. “Hello?”

  “Where you at?” I’m taken aback for all of two-seconds before that rough voice registers. “You there?”

  “Yeah, Chance. Hey.” Why on earth is he calling me at 7:30 in the morning?

  “Hey, back at ya. Now tell me where the fuck you are.”

  “I just dropped Everly off at school. I’m about to go back to the apartment.” Is he trying to piss me off?

  “Scratch those plans. Come to Wicked,” he demands.

  “Wicked?” What’s that and where?

  “Yeah, Wicked Ink. Shawn’s tattoo studio. Ring any bells?” He sounds annoyed that I don’t know.

  “Yes.” I bite out through closed teeth. The nerve of his attitude. Jeez. “I just didn’t know that was the name.”

  “One week with your memories back, and you still don’t know jack shit.” It’s not a question. And he’s lucky Emersyn isn’t in hearing range right now or I’d give him an earful.

  “It hasn’t been officially one week until about midnight tonight, A-hole.”

  “A-hole? Really, Whit?”

  “My three-year-old is in the back seat listening to every word coming out of my mouth. I’m thanking myself for not putting you on the car speaker.”

  “Whatever. Just get down here.”

  “I don’t know where ‘here’ is.” Or why he’s in Mississippi.

  “I’ll text you the address. Better see you in forty-five minutes, Bitch.” He hangs up without another word, and within a couple of seconds a text message comes through my phone.

  Oh, he’s going to see me all right. He’ll be lucky if I don’t kick him in the junk too.

  An hour and a half later, after a pee-stop, and then poop-stop ten minutes after the pee-stop, we arrive at Wicked Ink. It’s a tattoo shop in a building that could easily pass for a medical or even a dental clinic. If it weren’t for the large sign over the front, covered awning, I’d never think this was a tattoo parlor. There are no neon signs that I’ve often seen flashing, “TATTOO” anywhere in sight.

  “Unbuckle kiddo and get out.”

  “Where we at, Momma?” Her attitude is nowhere in sight now, making me sigh in relief.

  “Where are we, Momma,” I correct. Jesus, sometimes I think I’m raising a redneck. And I have no idea how. I don’t talk like that. Her sister doesn’t, and Blake certainly doesn’t.

  Ugh, Blake. I haven’t missed the snide little comments he used to say when she started speaking either. Emersyn’s voice even has a twang to it that no one in mine or Blake’s family have.

  “You remember Shane’s brother Shawn, right?”

  “Yep. He’s pretty.” I burst out in laughter. Shit, that’s funny. Sure, Shawn is good-looking in a brooding slash meanie kind of way. But I would never put the word ‘pretty’ in context when describing Shane’s brother.

  “What’s funny, Momma?”

  “Nothing, Baby. Let’s go.”

  She beats me to the front door. It’s wooden, with frosted glass in the top half with “WICKED INK” etched in all caps and the business hours in smaller, lowercase writing underneath.

  “It won’t open.” She huffs out.

  “I got it,” I say, coming up behind her and pushing the heavy door open. She jets insi
de, obviously excited.

  I spot both of them over to the left after walking past what I’m guessing is a receptionist’s area up front. The room is open and large, containing workstations on each side of the room. There’s no one else but Shawn and Chance in sight. Chance is perched against a large mirror and Shawn’s sitting on a stool, leaning back against a tattooing table. They’re talking, but I’m not close enough to hear their conversation.

  “Hey guys, what’s up,” I say, walking up.

  “What are you doing here?” Shawn twists his head, asking with surprise laced in his voice.

  “Shawny.” Emersyn singsongs before launching herself at him. He catches her midair.

  “Hey, Em.” He chuckles as he wraps his large arms around her in a hug, a smile tugging at his lips.

  “We come to see you.”

  “Y’all did not come to see him?” Chance scowls at my three-year-old. “Y’all came to see me.”

  Emersyn twists around in Shawn’s arms, but he doesn’t let her go. Her face lights up as if just noticing Chance for the first time. “You’re friends with Ariel.”

  “If by Ariel you mean Evie, then yes, sugar, I’m friends with her.”

  “She looks like Ariel,” she states, as if disputing Eve’s name.

  Ignoring her statement, Chance asks, “Do you not remember my name, Emersyn Rose?” She shakes her head. “Guess memory loss runs in the family.” For that, I kick his boot. He only shrugs, then pushes off the wall. After ruffling Emersyn’s curls, he turns, grabbing me by the arm without saying a word and pulls me toward the opposite wall.

 

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