“What’s the other hardest thing? I got the impression you were going to say more.”
I looked over, meeting her wide green eyes. “The other hardest thing I’ve ever done?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“Admitting to myself that I love your grandson.” Everything inside of me released a torrent of horrified, wonderful, painful, beautiful relief through me.
Uma’s lips spread into a grin. On the edge of her grin there was something else, an intense emotion that looked a lot like relief.
“I love him,” I whispered, shaking and on the edge of puking. “I love him. I can’t believe I love him.” That was a lie. I could believe it. I couldn’t believe no one else had taken him before I found him.
Uma set down her tongs and grabbed my hand, her face strangely understanding. “He’s afraid too.”
I wasn’t listening to her. “What if he leaves me too?”
I couldn’t breathe.
“Too? Becca, sweetie, calm down.”
I pulled free of her and put my face in my hands. I love him. That’s why this was so hard. Why his eyes wanted my soul every time I looked into them. Why his touch, his hold, his heart had all demanded everything from me. Why I wanted to be someone I wasn’t, someone better.
“Breathe.” Hands were grasping my face. A kind, feminine voice said, “In and out.”
I followed her orders until my lungs stopped trying to run away. My eyes swam. “I love him,” I whispered again, for fear that if I said it too loud someone would punish me.
“If there is one person on this planet who deserves to be loved, it’s my grandson. I’ve tried to love him the best I could. I gave him his space. I never pushed him. I gave him all I could. But I could only do so much for him. He has a hole in his heart that I can’t fix. He needs this, Becca. He needs to be loved unconditionally and he needs to love in return. You’re afraid. I can see that. But fear isn’t stronger than love. Love is stronger than anything. Don’t be afraid to love him. He needs you.”
Oh, damn it! I stepped forward, needing someone, her, my mom, my sister. Her arms came around me. I was a woman who could stand on her own two feet. But right now I wanted someone to hold me up.
“I’m so scared.”
She rubbed my back. “But the love is still winning, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” I blubbered.
“Let it win. I’ve been waiting a long time for James to find someone. He deserves to be happy. I have a feeling that you do too. Don’t you?”
“Yes.”
Twenty-three years of not being happy had slowly but surely turned me into stone. I wanted to come alive. I wanted to smile and not be afraid of my frown. I’d spent my life taking care of Rain, of being afraid, broken, and strong. I had to put the pieces back together now. It was time to let my past go and face my future. And though the idea brought forth a wave of nauseating anxiety, I didn’t push it away. I embraced it. Fear of being happy was better than the fear of not.
I let it all loose in Uma’s arms. She whispered comforting words in my ear, bringing me back from the edge. When I’d cried myself out I stepped away from her and braced myself against the counter. My body felt heavy and lightened. As if all of the years I’d carried around were begging to be set free and the Becca I didn’t know was tired of carrying them.
“Here.” Uma handed me a cloth napkin.
“Thank you.” I took it and wiped my face. “I’ve been crying for weeks.” I laughed sadly. “I can’t stop.”
“You probably haven’t cried in years.”
I shrugged, not denying it.
“I’m the same way. I grew up in a house where emotions were weak. Even when my husband was killed in action I wasn’t allowed to show my heartache.”
“You lost your husband?”
She looked down her wedding ring and sighed. “Yes.”
“I’m sorry.” I wanted to comfort her the same way she comforted me, but talking about her husband seemed to shut her down.
“Chicken’s done.” She picked up the tongs and started taking the current batch out. “Go wake that boy up. He can sleep for a week if you let him.”
I set my napkin down. “Yes, ma’am.”
I dipped into the bathroom to rewash my face. I looked like shit twice. I shook my head at myself in the mirror and turned the light off. As I crawled up the ladder I tried not to lose my footing.
I loved a man.
A terrifying thrill moved over me. I pushed to my feet in the loft and searched for his body in the dark. He still lay on his back. His hand was over his stomach and the other behind his head. His blanket had been kicked away. His boxers were bunched up, revealing his long, pale thighs. His penis and testicles were shifted to one side, weighing heavily in the front. Heat traveled over my body, warming my skin, chasing away my sadness. I wanted to rip his boxers off and taste him again.
Instead, I sat on the end of his bed and touched his face. He was warm and his stubble was growing back in. I rubbed my palm against his scruff, my fingers through his hair, and then dragged my hand down the other side so I could feel his jaw. He looked open as he slept. His face was free of the emotion constantly in his eyes. I leaned over and kissed his lips, unable to help myself once again.
My revelation was still wreaking havoc on my insides. I wanted him to reassure me, to tell me this love wasn’t going to ruin me.
But James didn’t know I loved him. It was bad enough I knew it. Considering telling him made me pull my lips away. If he knew then this was real. Once the truth was set free it would have control over everything I ever did from here on out. I wasn’t ready to grant my love that much power yet.
I pressed my palm to his chest and shook him. He opened his eyes and blinked at me through the dark. I waited for him to get his bearings. Once he had, he sat up and pushed his hair out of his face, giving me an unsure smile. Are you done falling apart? he was probably thinking.
I stared into his eyes hard. Did he love me too? I basked in the soul-sucking this time. It wrapped me in its embrace, holding me hostage. I didn’t fight it. I let the warmth spread over me until my breathing calmed and my muscles relaxed. I hadn’t realized how tense I was until I decided to give in and the stress disappeared. Regardless of what happened I knew I’d always want him.
“Don’t leave me,” I whispered.
His eyes shot to my lips. “What?” his deep, sexy voice rumbled.
The sound sent a chill over me. “Don’t leave me.”
“Becca,” he said, leaning toward me. “I’ve wanted to be here from the beginning. I’m not going anywhere.”
He said that now. What if I ruined this? I sabotaged everything. What if I—
James shook his head as if he could read my thoughts. “Stop.” He clasped his hands around my wrists and pulled me down on his body. I draped across his chest and his arms came around me, pinning me to him. “I can’t believe you’re afraid of me leaving. That’s what I’m afraid of. I’m terrified that you’re going to wake up and see me for what I am.”
What was he? Once again I struggled to disprove him but he fought me, imprisoning me against his chest. I talked anyway, even if he couldn’t hear me. “You’re not worthless, you damn fool. You’re worth so much more than what anyone gives you.”
He continued to talk. “You don’t have to be afraid, baby. As long as you want me I’m here.”
I fought harder. So that was all it took? As long I wanted him he’d be here? And what if I didn’t? What would he do then? It was so unfair of him to do that to himself and to do it to me. It made me feel terrible. I hadn’t thought of us long enough to consider what I wanted, but I knew I didn’t want that. I wanted us to be equal partners, for us to both have the same investment. If we failed, we both failed. To be responsible for everything in this relationship was too much for me. I wanted us to be a two-person indestructible team who could take on the world. I’d taken it on by myself for long enough. If this was going to work then I had to
admit perhaps James was just as responsible for me as I was for him.
“And,” he continued, “if I want you, you’re here too. Right, Becca?”
I sagged against his chest in relief. He wanted us to be a team too. I rose and met his eyes, nodding as I answered, “Yes.”
His eyes slid shut briefly. When they opened they were shimmering under the light of the moon. He released his hold and instead began rubbing my back. He moved his fingers over my lower back to grasp greedy handfuls of my ass, urging me against his groin. Desire blossomed in his eyes, turning them into dangerous things. His erection grew beneath me, swelling and shifting.
I grinned. “Did my answer turn you on?”
He shook his head, eyes on my lips. He opened his legs so my stomach pressed against the hard, excited mound between us and squeezed my cheeks. “This turned me on.”
“My ass?” I did have a great ass. My blood began to pump lust through me. “Harder, James.”
With his eyes on my lips and my eyes on his, he dug his fingertips into my ass. He slipped his hands under the waistband on my boxers and felt my cheeks without the fabric in the way. He kneaded me while he ground against me. When his fingers moved over my cheeks, between my legs, and found my pussy, I gasped, my thoughts fading. I was already wet from him fondling me. Two of his long fingers slipped in without much resistance. He pushed himself inside of me as far as he could go and then grabbed my face with his other hand, tilted it to the side, and pressed his lips to mine. He kissed me deeply while he fingered me, turning me into a mewing, lost woman. I could feel my wetness dripping between my thighs as his tongue prodded my mouth, giving me pleasure from two places at once.
I didn’t realize how badly I needed an orgasm until I felt myself pulsing around his intrusion. He sped his strokes up, kissing me deeper, unapologetically taking my pussy with his fingers. I bit my lip hard to keep my moans quiet. I started humping his fingers, riding his hand and wrapping my tongue with his. As I came I rose up and tossed my head back, digging my nails into any part of him I could find. The sensation of my orgasm took me over and dragged me under, leaving me limp and satisfied against his chest when I finally managed to open my eyes.
James slipped his fingers out of my vagina slowly, pulled my boxers back in place, and then rubbed my back.
“Sorry,” he whispered, chuckling.
I shook my head against his chest. Don’t be sorry.
He was still hard as a piece of granite. Just as I moved my hand to slip inside his boxers I heard feet on the wooden floor below the ladder.
“Dinner’s ready,” Uma called.
I pulled my hand out and scurried off the bed. My cheeks filled with heat. “Coming!” I called, my voice cracking. My wetness still coated me. My knees were weak. James was looking at me like I was crazy. “Uma,” I mouthed.
He looked at the ladder with a frown. “What’s going on?” he asked, adjusting his hard penis in his boxers as he too got off the bed.
I wanted his cock. My head clouded. I was so ready, wet, wanting, and he was so hard, undoubtedly going to fill me with every thick, solid inch. I swallowed hard and shook the want away. I searched for my jeans. Finding them, I pulled them on and buttoned them as he did the same.
I grabbed his arm and he looked at my mouth. “Dinner.”
Realization dawned on him. “You two met?” he asked, his voice making me want him that much more.
Every time he talked it felt like a gift he was giving me. I recalled the sign for yes and did it, shaking my fist the way he showed me. I wanted to give him a gift too.
He smiled at me and grabbed my fist, giving it a squeeze. Then he grabbed my other hand. He moved my fingers around until both hands were flattened into strange “O” positions. Then he brought my hands together and puckered his lips. “Kiss,” he explained. “Say me.”
“Me,” I said, completely stuck on this man.
“I thought you’d never ask,” he teased, leaning in. His lips were unbearably soft this evening. I lost myself in the taste of his mouth, wrapping my arms around his neck. His hands settled on my waist.
“Dinner’s getting cold!” Uma shouted.
I stepped away from him and glanced at the ladder. “Uma,” I informed him again, my cheeks burning.
He motioned to the ladder. “Ladies first.”
I rolled my eyes and moved past him. Taking the ladder, I crawled down. I waited at the bottom for James. Once he was down he nodded toward the hall and made a sign. He took his right hand and made a fist, but his thumb poked through his index and middle fingers. He shook his fist side to side. “Bathroom,” he said.
I made a mental note of that particular sign. If I had to hold my bladder in every morning because I couldn’t communicate my problem then that wouldn’t be fair to either of us. “I’ll wait.” To make my point I leaned against the wall.
He looked at me closely and then grabbed my hand, pulling me into the bathroom with him. Once inside he let me go and stood before the toilet, pulling his penis out of his boxers and jeans. He looked over at me with his eyebrow raised. I turned around and washed my hands. He sidled up beside me and did the same after he finished peeing. We both dried our hands on the floral printed towel.
“Why are you afraid to be alone with Uma?” he asked, dropping the towel and giving me a tight look.
Because she knows I love you. I can’t keep my mouth shut around her. She can see right through me. I love you, James.
I shrugged rather than shine light on those truths. “No reason.”
His expression told me he knew I was full of crap, but he didn’t push me. “Let’s go eat then. She made this meal for you.”
Nerves gnawed on me as I followed him past the swinging kitchen doors. Uma was seated at the table, exuding patience. He seemed to ignore her for some reason. He pulled out a chair and looked pointedly at me, waiting for me to sit before he took his own seat between Uma and me. James dug in without waiting, grabbing the tongs and transferring fried chicken to his plate.
Uma, on the other hand, said grace as she reached for the ice water pitcher. I watched them both in amazement. James had no idea she was having a conversation with God as he chomped down on his food. I wondered how many times she’s done this, whether at every meal or just some.
“I thank you for this food. I thank you for bringing my grandson to me to share this meal. I thank you for the beautiful woman who loves him. We both know how alone he’s been his whole life. I hope this is what brings him out of his shell. I thank you for new love, for the chance to feel something I haven’t felt in decades. And I thank you for pants. Girls don’t wear them as much as they should. Did you see little miss Sandy Cruthers out by the ice cream shop this afternoon?” She clucked under her tongue. “I pray for her momma. Amen.” She glanced at me when she finished. “Parsnips are good.”
“Amen,” I whispered.
She smiled at me. “So, Becca. Tell me about yourself. How old are you?”
James looked from me to Uma, trying to gauge which one of us was talking.
“Just eat,” Uma told him, her hands signing as fast as James’s did. Returning her gaze to me, she wiggled the pitcher.
“Sure.” I slid my empty glass closer and she began filling it with ice water. “Thank you. I’m twenty-three.”
“What do you do for a living?”
“I’m a bartender.” I took a chicken leg from the pile and then scooped some salad onto my plate from the colorful bowl.
“Do you attend college?”
I felt sweat trail down my neck. I was under the pressure here. “I did for art, but I called it quits after a couple years.”
“Art?” Her gaze looked far more interested. “What kind of art?”
I realized too late that my tattoos were covered by my sleeves. I cleared my throat and poured some strange organic, unsweetened raspberry vinaigrette from the bottle on the table. “Drawing, painting, tattoos…”
“Tattoos?” She cocked he
r head to the side. “You have any?”
I swallowed hard and nodded slowly.
“Let’s see them.”
“Really?”
She smiled, gaze amused. “Really.”
James frowned at me as I took his hoodie off. My tank top showed off all of my colorful tattoos. My rose for my friend Tony in L.A. who’d been in an abusive relationship and almost didn’t make it out alive. She was a beautiful flower who overcame her pain. I’d drawn the tattoo and she did it for me in her uncle’s tattoo shop. The rose, the color of blood for life and love, wrapped around my left bicep and arm. The stem and thorns were the color of steel, silver and resilient. I knew her for a short time, but something about a woman who fell, got up, and was strong enough to not hide her bruises always stuck with me.
There was the gold angel wing being devoured by a black-eyed demon on my forearm. The stars colored purple over my right pulse to remind me to always look up, to remember that I wasn’t the only person on this planet who didn’t always have all of the answers. There were millions of people in this world looking up at the sky the same way I had. We weren’t alone in our pain, in our struggle, and there was a sense of comfort knowing there was someone else out there right now unknowingly fighting with me.
My favorite tattoo was of the man on the inside of my right arm near my armpit. He was rugged and stunning, with eyes just like mine. In them he was the father I wanted him to be. He was caring, patient, and selfless. The man on my arm loved me. He was positioned looking up at me. In his eyes he looked sorry. But in my head that man wasn’t sorry. “You’re just like your mother, Rebecca. It’s a wonder I love you at all.” That was the last thing he said to me before he and Mom took off, leaving me and Rain on our own.
I spent years trying to figure out what happened to them. Jail? Did they want a new beginning? Did they have any more children? Was there another Raina out there being beaten down? Someone who didn’t get out? Did she have a Becca to protect her? The idea freaked me out so much I instantly dismissed it. I had to let them go. Why they abandoned us no longer mattered. It was time for me leave them behind, no matter how much they’ve hurt me, left me, and bruised me.
My Vicious Demise (Demise #2) Page 25