Songbird's Call

by Herron, Rachael

  “Yeah?” She clearly wasn’t.

  “Most days. Then there are the bad days, but I’m not unique in that. Every woman in America –”

  “I thought you were hot then,” he jumped in. “And I think you’re hotter now.” That was the stripped-down truth, unvarnished.

  “Mmm.” Her cheeks lit pink, and then the tip of her nose went the same shade. He wondered how far down her blush went.

  “So with all due respect, fuck your old man. Maybe he had good intentions, but he was just plain wrong.”

  Molly stared at him.

  “What?”

  She reached forward and touched his wrist with one finger, lightly. His blood fizzed. “You make it sound so easy. I should just let it go.”

  “You loved your dad, and I’m sure he loved you.”

  “He did. That’s never been in question.”

  “Must be nice.” The tone was too automatic, too bitter, and it was out before he could stop it.

  “What’s the story with your dad?”

  “Eh. Not worth it.”

  “What?” She traced the vein on the back of his hand, and he swayed towards her in the starlit dark. “You pushed me into talking about my deep pain,” but she said it lightly and continued with a small smile, “don’t you owe me the same?”

  “My dad was a son of a bitch, plain and simple.”

  “Tell me.”

  Other women had said this to him before, but they’d always, all of them, had a different look on their faces. They’d known something about his father and they’d wanted gossip, or at least that’s what it had seemed like to him.

  Molly appeared different. Her face was still so open.

  “What do you know?” He was stalling.

  “He was the sheriff before you. And your sister told me he killed himself. That’s literally all I know.”

  He sighed and moved to sit next to her. Their knees brushed, and she didn’t pull away. “When I was a kid, I wanted to be a police officer, so I could be like him. I remember that, remember looking up to him. For a little while, anyway. I remember how shiny his badge was, and how heavy his gun felt.”

  “He let you hold his gun?”

  “Grow up in a family like mine, and yeah. I learned to shoot before I learned to ride a bike.”

  “Were you happy?”

  “As a kid?”

  She nodded.

  “I think so. Yeah. For a while, anyway. By the time my sister got big enough to be going to school with me, things changed. I don’t know who changed first, my mom or my dad, but he started drinking more. The yelling started.” Colin paused. He cleared his throat and considered whether or not he wanted to continue.

  Strangely, he wanted to tell Molly more. “They fought a lot. I guess they’d always done that. That’s what they did in my dad’s family – his brother and him fought physically their whole lives. If my dad hadn’t ended up a cop, he would have gone to jail with that half of the family. They were always in and out of prison, still are. But the first time I saw a bruise on my mom’s face was when I was going into seventh grade. I didn’t know nothin” from nothin” – I knew I was starting to notice girls, but I was confused about everything that happened when I was out of the house – so it took a lot for me to notice what was going on at home. But that black eye – she couldn’t hide it.”

  “He hit her.”

  “Maybe he always had. But he got sloppy about it. Hit her in front of me, and then, eventually, in front of Nikki, too. I wanted to kill him.” He held up his hand and considered it. “The first time he hit me, I was trying to protect her. He threw me against a wall and I landed on my hand. Broke this thumb. Still crooked, see?”

  She looked but only briefly, keeping her eyes on his face. She caught his hand as it dropped to his lap and held it, touching his thumb lightly with her own. Then she kissed the pad of it. Once. Softly.

  Warmth flooded Colin’s torso at the sheer intimacy of it. Had anyone ever kissed him like that? He blinked, trying to remember what he’d been about to say. “So. Yeah. I went from wanting to be him, to wanting to be stronger than him. I knew I’d be a police officer, and then some day, I’d arrest him and take his job. I’d be the sheriff and he’d rot in jail for hurting my mother.”

  “Did he ever hurt Nikki?”

  Colin remembered watching her say something cheeky, laughing, knowing she was Daddy’s favorite, and then watching her hit the floor. She’d looked up that time, obviously stunned. What happened? The worst part of that night had been their mother’s face as she’d picked Nikki up. Nothing, sweetheart. You fell. “Yeah, he did.” Colin felt a jolt right through to the top of his head. “You’re around her, around Nikki. More than I am right now. If you ever see anything on her, you’ll tell me, right?”

  Molly’s eyes got bigger. “What do you mean?”

  “If Todd is hurting her, I want to know. Promise me you’ll tell me if you see any evidence of that. Or if she tells you anything.”

  “He hurts her?”

  Colin didn’t have anything to go on, except his gut. And his gut was usually right. “Promise me. Don’t tell anyone else, just come straight to me.” He probably couldn’t get away with killing the guy, but maybe he could come close enough. “Promise?”

  “I-I promise. God. Of course. And then your mom…did she get out?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How?”

  “A stroke.”

  “Oh, God. I’m so sorry.”

  “She was just forty-five.” The coroner had said the blood clot could have just been in her body, waiting. Maybe the stroke had been coming for a long time, even as young as she’d been.

  Colin would always blame the myriad times her neck had been snapped back.

  “Jesus.”

  “He lost it then.”

  “Is that when…”

  “No. That took another year. He got caught drinking on the job, and back then, it was something you could get away with a little easier. He was sent to treatment, two months, all on the taxpayer’s dime. He came back, and not much changed. He arrested a woman on a DUI once, and while he was just joking around in the jail, he blew a higher BAC than she had.” Colin had been in the jail that night, booking a kid on a vandalism charge. He was about to be promoted to sergeant. He’d been getting closer and closer to taking his father’s job. He’d been only twenty-five. He’d watched his father, the big man, blow into the machine and then show the woman he’d arrested his higher reading, delighted with himself. Colin had told him to knock it off. Or what? You’ll tell who on me? You gonna report me to myself?

  “Holy crap.”

  “Yeah.”

  Molly didn’t say anything. Another woman might have leaned forward. Might have kissed him. Might have told him he could do it, assured him that she was safe to talk to, that it was okay to let it all out.

  Instead, Molly just watched him. One of her hands rested lightly on his knee. She didn’t clutch him – she didn’t touch him reassuringly. She just waited. Open.

  Sudden, horrifying tears clogged his throat. Jesus H. Christ, he hadn’t cried for seven years. He wasn’t going to start now. He waited, catching a breath high in his chest and holding it, a trick he’d learned early on.

  Molly’s gaze stayed clear, her breathing steady and slow. Her neck was long, and he could see her pulse beating steadily in her throat. Her hand on his knee was warm.

  “It was my birthday. I was about to get promoted. He was going to have to be the guy to promote me. I knew he didn’t want to – I thought the gunshot was a truck backfiring on the other side of the station. Didn’t even cross my mind that it could be anything else till I heard Nikki scream. She’d stopped by to drop off a cake for me and the guys. A pineapple upside-down cake, my favorite. Used to be my favorite. She dropped it all over the floor.” He paused. He’d forgotten till this very moment about that damn cake. The paramedics had tromped through it, and then the coroner. “That’s funny. The janitor at the departmen
t just switched to some pineapple air fragrance in the bathrooms. It’s been making me sick. I didn’t put that together till right now.” He caught Molly’s hand in his. “Isn’t that funny?”

  “No.” She squeezed his fingers. “It’s not.”

  “Anyway.” Colin tried to scrape up the memory of a smile from somewhere. “You may have guessed the punch line. Eventually, I kept getting promoted until I got his job.”

  She kissed him.

  It wasn’t a hot kiss. It wasn’t even a sad kiss.

  It was just her lips against his.

  She was with him.

  Molly was with him, next to him.

  His body felt so weak from telling the story that he wondered if his legs would hold him if he stood. And yet he felt strong enough to move a mountain with nothing but his hands to do the digging.

  Then he realized something and dragged his head away from her.

  He groaned.

  “What?”

  “That.” Colin touched Molly’s bottom lip. “That was a pity kiss, wasn’t it?”

  “Mmm.” A half-smile curved her mouth. “Maybe?”

  “Okay. I admit it. I kissed you out of pity, too. At the hotel. I wanted to make you feel better.”

  Molly sat straighter. “I knew it. You are a total and complete –”

  “But then I lost control of it.”

  “– jackass,” she continued weakly. “What?”

  “A pity kiss would have been like this.” His heart thumped in his chest so loudly he wondered if she’d hear it. She didn’t pull away as he dropped his mouth to hers. He kissed her chastely, close-mouthed, and it almost killed him to pull away again. “That’s what a helpful kiss would have been.”

  “Jackass,” she repeated. There was no heat in it, not like the waves of it rising in the two inches left between their bodies.

  “But that kiss at the hotel wasn’t a nice-guy kiss, was it?”

  “What?”

  “Admit it. You felt what you did to me.”

  She gasped, a soft pop of noise that had him just as hard again.

  “That’s when I knew I’d lost control and that I’d just shot myself in the foot with my helpful attempt at making you feel better. There was no pity about it. Not a second’s worth. And you know what?”

  “What?” she said again, softer this time.

  “I sure as hell don’t feel bad for you now.”

  “Jesus holy Christoballs,” Molly muttered.

  And then she kissed him.

  For real.

  Finally.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Molly lost any shred of self-control she’d ever managed to pull around herself. She launched herself at Colin, and he caught her. His mouth was as hot as his words, as hot as his voice had been.

  The kiss was everything she’d ever missed when she was alone on a ship full of people being together with the ones they loved the most. The kiss was fever and intensity and light and the swooping feeling of dropping off a cliff, only to be raised up again.

  The kiss was flight.

  And if she didn’t fly into a place where she could drop some of these clothes, she would burst into flame, self-immolating cliffside on Colin’s back porch. She managed to pull away from the kiss long enough to say, “You have a reputation to think of, don’t you?”

  His eyes were dark, and he blinked in confusion. “What?”

  “I’m sure there’s some local or state law against having a naked woman on your lawn?”

  “Yeah. Yeah, there sure is.” He grinned.

  “But you wouldn’t get in trouble if we were inside, say.”

  “Nope.”

  “So it would actually be the right thing to do if you led me inside. Like, to your bed.”

  Colin gulped so audibly she couldn’t help giggling.

  “Yeah.” He took her hand and turned, speaking over his shoulder. “I could maybe do that. Lead you, I mean.”

  She followed him. “In a pitying way, I hope.”

  “I’ve got nothing but pity for you, babe.”

  Molly grinned and found the steps didn’t hurt at all, going back into the house. Her knee seemed to have spontaneously healed itself, maybe from the heat that flooded from the middle of her body and radiated from all directions. “I hope it’s good pity. And by that I mean hard. And big.”

  He stopped in his tracks so quickly she ran into him.

  And he was on her then, still in the kitchen. He stripped her, making short work of her sweaters. He unclasped her bra expertly with one hand and threw it into the living room, never lifting his mouth from hers. Molly worked to catch her breath. She’d apparently dropped it outside, along with any propriety she might have had left.

  “Holy crap,” he said against her lips. “Holy damn.” He stepped away to look at her, and Molly shivered under his gaze. Naked from the waist up, she straightened. Her nipples tightened into buds, and his eyes darkened again.

  “You’re goddamn beautiful,” he said.

  “You haven’t even seen the important half yet.”

  Colin was so startled he just blinked. Then he gave a whoop of laughter and pulled his shirt over his head with one hand. “Let’s fix that.”

  “My hero,” Molly said, grinning. She stepped out of her shoes, and he undid the buttons of her jeans, helping her shimmy out of them.

  Then Molly was in the middle of his kitchen wearing nothing but a scrap of black lace underwear.

  “It’s kind of cold in here.” Molly stretched her arms overhead and enjoyed every second of watching Colin’s eyes widen. “Isn’t there somewhere a little warmer we could go?”

  “Oh, yeah. This way, gorgeous.”

  And something in his voice, the way the word “gorgeous” rolled out of his mouth, erased the last little shred of doubt Molly held about his intentions.

  He led the way, and she followed, close on his heels.

  He flipped on the lamp next to the bed. The bed was huge, covered in a dark-blue coverlet. A low bookcase ran along one wall, and the other wall was mostly glass. Molly had a sudden urge to cover herself. And to be a good guest. “The ocean view must be amazing in the mornings,” she said politely.

  “It’s pretty fucking amazing right now.”

  She felt something like joy burbling up inside her. “That’s just pity again, I know it.”

  He moved Asiago from her place on the bed and quickly put her in the hallway. “Sorry, buddy. I’ll make it up to you.”

  Then Colin stood in front of Molly and took her hand. He placed it on the front of his jeans. “Is this pity?”

  “That is –” Molly lost her breath again. “That is not pitiful. No, it is not.”

  He backed her up until her knees hit the side of his bed.

  She sat. “Maybe I can help you with this problem.”

  “It’s a big problem.” Colin’s voice was deeper now.

  “I can see that.” She took a moment to trail her fingers over his stomach, feeling the muscles at his sides and how they flexed as she touched them lightly. So lightly.

  She heard his breath hitch in his chest as she reached for his belt buckle. As she undid it and then reached for his fly, he stepped out of his boots.

  She unbuttoned him. Nothing but black briefs in the way. Molly felt his hardness through the fabric, feeling the girth of him.

  “I’m impressed.”

  “Oh.” Colin sounded strangled. “Good to know. It’s still pity, you know.”

  “I see that. A very wide piece of pity.”

  “Mmm.”

  “Pity I’d like to taste.”

  “Jesus, woman.” He shucked his jeans, underwear and socks, and covered her body with his in one fluid motion. He was on top of her, his mouth on hers again, hot as sin and twice as convincing.

  She felt his hardness against her stomach and shimmied against him. “I’m not naked yet.”

  “I know.” He tugged on the elastic of her panties, then gave a low growl and kissed her
harder.

  Against his lips, Molly said, “That’s not fair.”

  “I’ll show you fair.”

  Colin moved down her body, leaving his weight on her, trailing his lips along her neck to her collarbone. His hand went to her hip, pulling her up sharply against his heat, before he found his way to her breasts. He kissed her nipple, sucking on it, sending a searing heat straight to her clit. Keeping his mouth where it was, he caressed her other breast, rolling its bud between his fingertips as his mouth continued to wreak its havoc. Then he switched his attention, his mouth and fingers trading places, and Molly bucked her hips against him in a blatant attempt to get him to hurry.

  But he seemed to have found all the time in the world. “Stand down, woman. Give me a minute here.” He nipped at her breast, and Molly gave a small cry.

  “God, you’re beautiful.”

  Molly whispered, “There’s that pity again.” She arched her back as he trailed his mouth lower.

  “Damn straight. I’m feeling so sorry for you.” His fingers touched her heated vee, one finger moving the fabric to the side. “So sorry. Let me show you how sorry I am.” His mouth followed his finger, and she felt his breath against her clit through the fabric that was still in the way.

  He stroked her slickness, moving his mouth over her panties, breathing against her. She bucked against his hand, and he pushed her down. “Hey, now, wildcat. Let me have my fun here.”

  “Off,” she managed. “Take them off.”

  “But they’re so pretty.” He raised his head and ran his fingers along the lace pattern, dipping his fingers in on the sides, touching her wetness and then retreating again before she got what she wanted, what she needed. “I just want to play with you for a while.”

  “Because you feel sorry for me.”

  “Exactly. I’m feeling incredibly sorry for you right now.”

  Molly’s stomach flipped with nerves. “Because why?”

  “Because I think you’re going to get fucked.”

  Her voice was just a breath, all she had left. “Oh, yeah? How?”

  “How am I going to fuck you? I haven’t decided yet.” Colin straightened and pressed his weight against her again. He pinned her down and put his mouth next to her ear. “Standing up is nice, but we’re already lying down. So I might fuck you like this. Good old missionary. Your legs pushed up around your ears.”