Fallen Angel

by K. S. Thomas

  “It’s not?”

  I shake my head. Until this moment, I never even put it together for myself. I was just reacting. Following my feelings. And there wasn’t time for any conscious thought.

  “I’ve seen that piece of shit hurt more people than I care to count, Bam Bam. When I saw him looking at you like that. Saying those things...I don’t know. Something snapped.”

  She doesn’t say anything, just stares at me with narrowed eyes like she’s not really understanding what I’m saying. Fuck. I’m not understanding what I’m saying.

  “I couldn’t let him hurt you the way he’s hurt other women. And I wanted to hurt him for even considering it. I wasn’t going after him because of what he did to my mom. I hit him because of what he said about you.”

  “Oh.”

  She doesn’t say anything else, just gets to her feet.

  “You taking off?”

  She starts walking, nodding her head. “Yeah, okay.” Then, instead of heading for the door, she moves toward the kitchen.

  I stand up and hurry after her. “I meant what I said earlier, if you need to go. I’m a big boy, contrary to what you may have seen last night.”

  “Angel,” she sighs, “I’m not leaving. And not just because Eda would kick my ass if I did. You’re my friend. More than that. We’re like fucking family. And you got fucking arrested last night, for getting in a fight with your father over some noble idea you had about protecting me, so there’s no way in hell I’m walking out of this house and leaving you alone, big boy or not.”

  I nod. “Okay.” I want to smile, but my face won’t fucking do it. “Thank you. For last night. For staying. For now.”

  The corner of her mouth quirks up into a smirk. “Save your thanks until after you’ve had my breakfast. I got all my cooking skills from Eda.” Then she places both hands on my shoulders and pushes down until I’m sitting in one of the barstools at the counter. From there, I watch as she gets to work, first on a search for coffee, which I’m pretty sure happens on instinct for every Jenninson woman, and then when that doesn’t pan out, she moves on to something I think is meant to be scrambled eggs, but I’m not about to put a title on it out loud.

  Doesn’t matter. I’ll eat it either way. Not because I’m hungry, but because I know I need to, and, since my taste buds are currently dulled like the rest of my senses, I even manage to get everything down without a problem.

  “Satisfied?” I hand her my empty plate.

  “Almost.”

  I frown. “Why? What’s next?”

  Her eyes roll toward the ceiling and likely the second floor above it. “Shower. You look like shit.”

  “Fair enough.” I slide out of my seat. “But you for damn sure aren’t running my water for me or soapin’ me up. I know I’m not coming across as super competent at the moment, but I got this.” I can feel my face do involuntary things. I don’t even know why I’m so opposed to having Bam Bam near my shower. I’m not exactly shy when it comes to women. But then, she’s no woman. She’s Bam Bam. And associating her with my naked dick in any way feels dirty. And like it could get me arrested. Again.

  “Um, I wasn’t planning on assisting you.” She arches her brow and her full lips purse in a sweet pout while she waits for me to leave and head upstairs.

  I stop in the doorway. “You’ll be here when I get done?”

  Her lips smooth out into a reassuring smile. “I’ll be here.”

  And knowing that, it helps. I don’t know why. But it does.

  She’s been around long enough to remember. She knows what growing up was like for me same as I know what shit was like for her. And somehow, that sort of stuff, connects people. It connects us. And so, I believe her when she tells me I’m not like him. Because she knows him. And she knows me. And she has to know the difference.

  It’s stupid. And I’m sure when I’m not so fucking drained I’ll realize that, but for now, it feels real. And it feels important.

  I’m almost halfway normal again when I get out of the shower and put on some new clothes. The sensation is short lived when I hear Bam Bam arguing with someone as I come down the stairs.

  “Move your skinny little ass out of my way, before I move you myself.” I went nearly a decade not hearing the bastard’s voice and now I can’t go twenty-four fucking hours.

  “Try me, asshole. You think I’m scared of you? I’m not,” Bam Bam fires back. Still same little feisty ass she was as a kid, never mind he’s already hit her once and is more than twice her size, outweighing her by a hundred and fifty pounds, easy.

  “If he’s going to start shit with anyone around here again, it’s gonna be me.” I come up behind her, resting my hand on her waist to let her know she can step back inside. Only she doesn’t move. If anything, I can feel her core tighten under my palm like she’s taking a more solid stance.

  “No. He’s caused enough problems for you already.”

  “What? This uppity little white bitch telling you what to do now? Damn, son. That’s not the kind of man I thought you’d be.”

  I can feel my fist clench and I suddenly get why Bam Bam hasn’t moved. She’s not standing here to stop him, she’s locked into place to stop me. From doing something stupid a second time. But I won’t. Not now.

  “Don’t call me, son. And don’t talk about me becoming any kind of a man when you don’t know the first thing about being one.”

  Then he has the fucking nerve to leer at her the same way he did last night. “Is that so? Hell, maybe I should spend some time with your little girlfriend here and have her tell you what I know about being a man. Bet she could teach you some things when I get done with her.”

  “Get the fuck out of here before I call the cops. You think they won’t haul your ass up out of here because you pressed charges against me last night? They won’t give a shit. You violated your fucking restraining order the second you made that turn down Sandstone Street. Or didn’t you know you had one? Lawyer filed it first thing this morning. You come anywhere near her from now on and your ass will be back in jail faster than you can call me your fucking son again.”

  “You’re serious? You’d call the police on your old man?”

  “No,” Bam Bam pipes up. “I won’t make him do that. I’ll call them.”

  Chapter 6

  I’m just amping up to call the police on Angel’s sceevy sperm donor, when a car rolls up in the driveway and the entire Finding Nolan crew climbs out.

  Moe Hollis takes one look at Blaise, Derek, Royce and Hudson, all built like fucking MMA fighters, and apparently decides it’s time to go. Then he spots Ava and actually starts running toward the street where his shitty old car is parked, outside the gate, which I’m thinking might be more for show than purpose.

  For the next ten minutes, there’s a great deal of man on man hugging and plenty of Ava insisting it’s okay for everyone to cry. She even takes a minute to pinky swear everyone one of them she won’t ever tell anyone. No one makes me swear. No one cries either. Except for Ava. Who apparently can’t stop because she watched Shawshank Redemption too many damn times when she was in high school.

  “I need coffee,” she blubbers on her way past me to the kitchen.

  “Good luck with that. I spent the last hour in there trying to find some.”

  She shrugs. “It’s cool. I brought the Coffee God with me.” She turns back over her shoulder. “Hudson. We need some magic coffee dust over here.”

  He cocks a half smile and hurries over. “That’s cute. Playing on my former barista job and calling me a fairy all in one shot.”

  “Yes. Now come over here and make something happen. Just don’t whip out your wand to do it.”

  I shake my head. “Really? A penis reference? Is this how you’re going to be approaching this entire situation?” Actually, inappropriate jokes is how we all deal with everything. So, yeah.

  “Give me a sec and I’ll come up with something to say about your boobs. Are you even wearing a bra?” She’s
pointing at my chest, her index finger zipping back and forth between my nipples.

  “It’s been a crazy twenty-four hours, Eda. Shit. Not like I had a lot of time to plan ahead and pack pajamas. Sleeping in my clothes was one thing, but that damn underwire was another.” I fold my arms across my chest to cover up. “You don’t look so hot either, by the way. Is that a pretzel in your hair?”

  She reaches up and peels it out. Then eats it after briefly inspecting it. “It’s all I’ve had to eat in the last fifteen hours. The police station wasn’t exactly stocked and ready to serve us breakfast after we spent half the night there.”

  Hudson chuckles gruffly, still searching the cupboards for something to brew coffee with. I have a hunch I had the last of it in the cup Angel made me yesterday, but I’m keeping that little detail to myself. Now’s not the time to be the guy who drank the last of the coffee.

  “At least you ate something. The last thing I had in my mouth can’t exactly be considered sustenance.”

  “Oh, gross. Well, it’s official. You’re as fucked up as the rest of ‘em.” I turn away, still slightly disgusted. “God. I didn’t realize it could be passed on by marriage.”

  “What did I pass on through marriage?” Royce’s timing is impeccable. “And, also. Is there coffee yet?”

  “No.” I make a face. “But that may be because you boys are busy eating each other’s wands.”

  Hudson’s laugh sounds like something combusted internally, while Ava does a sort of snarfle. Meanwhile, Royce is looking at me like I’m an idiot. “There was a fairy reference earlier,” I try to explain. “Talk of wands. It was funny, okay? My joke was the perfect blend of inappropriate and hilarious while sprinkled with a heavy handed pinch of sexual innuendo, just like you assholes like it. Trust me.”

  Whether my longwinded answer was worth it, I’ll never know. Royce never has a chance to respond or even laugh. The loud thud of the cupboard door closing interrupts everything.

  “There’s nothing here. Nothing. Not one single bean.” There’s a slight panic in Hudson’s voice and it’s catching.

  Ava begins to flap her arms nervously. “Not one bean?”

  Because one coffee bean would really make a difference in our situation. But it’s not about the coffee. Not really. It’s about stalling. Doing anything and everything to keep from facing what’s real. Moe Hollis is back. And Angel got arrested last night. Both things, none of us ever expected to have to deal with. Hearing that Moe-lester wound up in jail, that would have been expected. This? This was nowhere near anyone’s psychic radar.

  Hudson wraps both arms snugly around my sister and kisses her softly on the top of her head. “I’m going to go out and get some. Okay?”

  She nods.

  “I’ll go with you,” Royce volunteers. I’m sure this is the last thing they expected to be doing on their first day back from their honeymoon.

  Then, it’s just Ava and I standing alone in the kitchen.

  “How was he when he got home?”

  I swallow hard and grind my teeth, remembering last night. “Wrecked. I’ve never seen him like that, Eda. Not even back in the day when shit went down with his dad on the regular.”

  “I’m really glad you were here. Thank you.” Ava squeezes my hand. “You’ve been a really great friend to him since you’ve been back. I knew I could count on you. I was freaking out thinking about him being here alone. But I was still busy with the legal end of things and Blaise was busy trying to sort out things with Royce and Hudson since they took an earlier flight to get back here for this...anyway, what I’m trying to say is, I’m glad you were here.”

  I close my eyes thinking back at last night and the way he finally fell asleep still clinging to me. Under other circumstances it would have been everything I’ve ever dreamed of. But it’s not. Seeing the internal battle between the man he is versus the one he’s terrified he could be, watching him in that kind of pain, I would have gladly spent the night alone in my bed, cold and untouched if it had meant knowing he was contently sleeping in his.

  “Yeah, well. Fucking Moe-lester showing up here definitely did not help.” My entire body tightens up just thinking about him. “Think he’ll be back?”

  Ava nods. “Unfortunately, I think we should count on it. Moe’s having financial troubles. Lawyer told me this morning. Seems to think he’s found an opportunity to squeeze some money out of Angel.”

  “That’s disgusting.” I shudder.

  “That’s Moe.”

  ***

  “What can I do?” Blaise is sitting across from me looking about as damn helpless as I’m feeling.

  “I don’t know, man.” I lean my head back and wish I was sitting on Memomma’s sofa with my head against the quilt she always kept draped over the back. I close my eyes trying not to think about her and what she will say if she ever finds out about this. Denial. That shit’s a good drug.

  “I still feel like an asshole for not getting here sooner.” Derek’s next to me, and I can hear him rubbing his hands anxiously over his pants. He does that kinda stuff a lot these days. Fucking Sammy’s been causing him to have all kinds of nervous ticks from the stress she’s been putting him under. And considering he wasn’t here last night, I’m guessing he’s likely to pick up a few more. Being around her seems to do that.

  “Nah, man. Don’t even worry about it.” I chuckle, because I’m not about to break down again like I did last night. These guys are my brothers, but some things even they don’t need to see.

  “Besides, Addy seemed to be handling shit pretty well without us here.”

  I open my eyes again when Blaise mentions her name. He’s still shaking his head. “I wasn’t even surprised when we rolled up here and she was standing in the doorway all up in Moe’s face like that. Crazy ass Jennison women are all the same.”

  “Yeah. Bam Bam definitely still has a Mighty-Mouse complex, no denying that.”

  Derek’s phone vibrates and he hurries to shut it off. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry, dude. I know the rest of the world hasn’t stopped.” Not that I’m all that into the idea of Sammy calling him. Needless to say, she’s not my favorite person these days, and the fact that she’s now apparently playing a game of catch and release with Derek is only making me hate her more.

  He runs his hands over his face. He looks like I feel. “It’s fine. Whatever it is can wait until later.”

  Blaise and I exchange a look, neither of us sure how to approach the situation. This mess with Derek and Sammy’s been going on forever and considering the way he looks and acts these days, I’m sure Blaise is putting shit together for himself right about now.

  Then, the front door opens and Royce and Hudson are back from the coffee run Ava sent them on. Hudson cuts straight through to the kitchen, but Royce turns off and comes in to join us, taking a seat in the recliner.

  “So, how are you enjoying your honeymoon?” I ask dryly because apologies are already running rampart around here for things people don’t need to be saying sorry for.

  “Oh, you know. It’s pretty much what I was expecting.” He even forces a smirk. Royce is solid like that. The calm in the shitstorm supplying a steady stream of sarcasm in his standard mellow tone. It’s no wonder Ava’s high-strung ass is so attached to him.

  Then, he gets serious and I get antsy as fuck. “By the way, Moe didn’t go all that far. Hudson and I saw him parked over at the gas station on the corner. Was talking on the phone with someone both times we passed by. Seemed intense.”

  “Fuck.” I hate that asshole. Father or not, if he ever dropped dead or wound up missing, I’d find it hard not to smile just knowing I was finally rid of the man. Probably sounds cold. And maybe that makes me a bad person on some level. But then again, I’m pretty sure, being Moe’s son, solidified that fact the day I was created.

  “Why are we ‘fuck’-ing?” Bam Bam’s standing in the doorway. That question didn’t sound right. I have to listen to it twice in my head be
fore I get she’s not referring to ‘us fucking’ and rather asking about my need to use the word fuck.

  “Moe’s still hanging around,” Blaise answers, clearly less confused about things than I am. I don’t know why this is screwing up my head so bad. Must be lack of sleep. Because it shouldn’t matter what references Bam Bam makes, everyone in their right mind knows they’d never be about her and I...fucking. That’d be crazy. And wrong. And it would contradict her speech about me being nothing like Moe. Because Bam Bam’s a fucking baby. She’s the baby.

  “Where?” She looks pissed and I feel my face distort into a smile involuntarily.

  “Why? You gonna go do something about it?” Even Blaise is amused by her. But then he’s used to this sort of thing with Ava. He’s had to hold her back from a fight on more than one occasion. Not that the girl’s violent. Just has a fierce streak when it comes to the people she loves. Apparently, that’s a family trait. Although, it is sort of surprising to see Bam Bam feels so strongly about the piece of shit on my behalf. And then I remember what she told me last night. Just as I was being hauled off.

  “Why don’t you tell me where the asshole is and see for yourself?” She sets down her coffee cup and crosses her arms, tapping her foot like she’s waiting on one of us to give up the info.

  “Relax, Bam Bam. We’ll deal with him later. For the moment, I’m just glad you’re all here. I can use a solid distraction right around now.”

  Ava and Hudson walk in, making our fucked up little family complete.

  “Where else would we be?” Ava slides down into the love seat beside Blaise while Hudson goes to sit on the arm rest of the recliner. Bam Bam’s still standing in the middle of the room, looking slightly abandoned. And I do the first stupidest thing I’ve ever done. I reach out for her hand and gently pull her over to me until she glides down into my lap where she wraps her arms around me, holding my head to her chest and bringing back the same sense of safety I felt with her all night.