“Jesus,” she whispered, dropping her head and angling it to the side.
“I know.”
“I mean, really, Adam. You take my breath away.” Her head stayed lowered, but she looked up at him through her lashes.
“I know.” He wore a self-satisfied grin. “I know you. So there are some things I know about us.”
“I feel like you just rummaged through my head and pulled out all my thoughts, then rearranged them so they make better sense.” She took a deep breath and relaxed when she let it go, her shoulders dropping.
“I know it’s still gonna be hard. Just because I said all this, that won’t make it easy. But we’ll figure it out.” He leaned toward her.
Her eyes lifted to his, and there was a look of being lost there with a hint of hope. “I do care—that’s why I don’t talk bad about people. But that doesn’t mean I have pristine thoughts. Most of the time I think the majority of the people around me are idiots and not worth my time.”
He rubbed a little over her heart. “That’s because you were hurt so much and taught to think that way. It’s not who you are, though. If you were that mean, you never would have talked to me, allowed me to hold your hand when you didn’t even know who I was.”
She blinked.
“See?” He took her hand, kissed it and then clasped their hand together. “We’re the same. We’re both strong and unbreakable.”
She dropped into his chest and hugged him. “I want to believe you.”
“Need more proof?” He rocked her. “Music.”
“What about it?” She took a stuttering inhale.
“It saves both of us. You said it got you through rehab. I used to love music and playing the piano because the notes would banish the numbers. I tried so hard to be the best I could at playing it, but my mom couldn’t stand how I’d insult myself and be torn up over how I couldn’t ever do it good enough. I wanted perfection.”
“But that’s impossible,” she breathed.
“I know that now, but at the time, I was a little kid and didn’t have much patience.” He brushed his fingers through her hair. “We like different kinds of music, but we both get a feeling of belonging from it, because we never really belonged anywhere before.” He kissed the top of her head. “Because we belong together.”
“I still don’t know that we have that much in common,” she argued. “You may be exaggerating because you’re biased.”
He separated from her a little. “How do you think we’re different?”
She shrugged. “Okay, so I like music, you do too, but what do you want to do with your life? What kind of career do you want?”
“I don’t know yet, but I know I want to help people,” he said.
“Me too.”
He smiled big. “So, what else is different about us?”
“The fact that you’re brilliant and pure, and I’m intelligent, sure, but I’m still all black inside. You can’t keep ignoring that and pretending it isn’t there. I mean, God, Adam, I used to trade my body for drugs. That’s something you could never do.” Her eyes were half closed, filled with sadness.
“No? You don’t think so?”
She shook her head.
“How about pushing people down and hurting them for a soda or candy? Those were my drugs. My mom used to bribe me with them to get me to behave. It never worked.”
Her eyes went wide. “You pushed them on purpose?”
“Yeah.” He ran his hands down her arms.
“Would you have given anything to have what you wanted and feel good again?”
He nodded.
Tears almost exploded out of her eyes. They gushed, and she fell back into him again. “Thank you . . .” She hiccuped. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
“For what?”
“Showing me exactly how right this is. Now I can do this . . . Now I can face what scares me.”
His heart stuttered. “What is it?”
“The possibility of being homeless again.”
* * *
Mari was insistent she go inside with Adam and not make him face this on his own. He had even picked her up and placed her back in her Jeep.
“Adam, I have to do this!” she said in a raised voice.
“Why?” His stormy eyes were a moment away from tearing up.
“Remember how miserable you were when I paid for our first date? And how good you felt when you paid for those concert tickets?” She gripped his shoulders to keep him still. He was super jittery.
“Yeah. Paying for those made me feel like a man. A normal man.” He blinked in rapid succession, as if to wipe away the confusion.
“Exactly. I haven’t felt like a normal, compassionate person in a long time. I’ve also escaped punishment from my parents over and over because they could never contain me. I want this punishment. I deserve part of it, so I want to be responsible and take it on.” She slid out of the driver’s seat in the Jeep and maneuvered around the door so she could shut it.
“Okay, but I want to do a lot of the talking,” he said, taking his time to get his bags out of the backseat.
“Fine with me.”
He let her hold his carry-on bag so they could hold hands.
Once they got inside, Samara shrieked at him and her hands shook.
Mari imagined Samara slapping her face and ripping her hair out. If Adam was out of the room, she might even pull a knife on her.
“I want to talk to Dad,” Adam said, his face stoic.
“No! You tell me first what the hell you think you were doing flying alone?” Samara pointed in his face.
He gripped it, but was gentle, as he put her hand back down at her side.
“I don’t answer to you. You’re my sister, not my guardian,” he said. “I already have one of those!”
Odd choice of words. Why did he say guardian?
“Dad! I’m home,” Adam hollered and put his luggage down.
Mari set his bag she was carrying on top of the one he’d set down.
His father came running from a back bedroom.
“Adam! Thank God! I’ve been calling and calling you!” He gripped Adam into a savage hold. “Are you okay?” He pulled away and looked him over.
“I’m great,” Adam said, smiling. “I’m better than great.”
His dad scowled.
“I love Mari. She loves me. We’re gonna get married someday. For now, she’s my girlfriend.”
His dad pulled him away.
“Stop that!” Adam told his dad and yanked out of his grip.
“I would like to speak to you in private,” his dad said.
“Not yet. I have more to say, and Mari does, too.” Adam walked back over to her side.
She took that as her cue to cut in. “I’m so sorry he came after me, sir.” She cleared her throat. Had she ever called anybody sir? Probably not. “I didn’t know he was going to do that. If I had known, I would have forbidden him to come.”
“How would you have done that? It seems my son has learned a few nasty habits from you.” His dad was shaking a little, his face reddening. “Running away without a word, ignoring what his own parent says, spending money on you he doesn’t have—to name a few.”
She swallowed and dipped her head. “You’re right. I have noticed he’s taken on some of my less desirable traits, but we’ve helped each other, too.”
Adam took her hand. “We have,” he said, standing tall, chin lifted. “I only wanted to be with her.”
“Well, you certainly accomplished that!” His dad hung his head and shook it in shame. “Her father called here, looking for her. He was worried you two might have run off together to God knows where.”
“I wouldn’t ever do that to your family,” she said. “I respect you and your life together too much. In fact, I’m jealous. I wish I had this. I’ve never really had a functional family.”
“So you try to steal mine, is that it?” his father asked, his tone bitter.
“No. I plan to sta
y on the outside and make sure your family stays intact.” She let go of Adam’s hand.
He grabbed it back.
She shook it and let go, whispering to him it was okay. “Sir, can I shake your hand on it? I promise, the second I see I’m breaking up your family, I’ll get out of Adam’s life.”
She extended her trembling hand.
He took it in a blinding flash. His grip was so hard, she could feel her joints rubbing together. “What I can’t figure out is what you get out of this relationship with my son.” His eyes burrowed into her like an unforgiving drill.
“Peace.” She took in a wisp of a breath. “I feel normal and good with him. He helps me to see the good in everything around me.” He let go of her hand, and she shook her fingers a little to get the blood going again. She lowered her voice because she was sounding a little shrill. “He has an amazing gift. He has this infectious spirit. At first I could only see anything good when he was around, but now it’s bleeding over into my life when he’s absent as well.”
“I want a concrete example,” his dad demanded.
She paused. This was gonna sting like the tears that were now threatening to join in on this conversation. “Okay—when I was visiting my dad, an old friend of mine, Victor, the one that got me hooked on drugs years ago, came back into my life. I was angry he was even anywhere near me. I didn’t want to be tempted. I didn’t want to fail myself or Adam.”
His dad’s jaw flexed.
“I didn’t want to forgive him or let him anywhere near me. Before Adam, I probably would’ve disobeyed my dad and flown straight back home. But I didn’t. I stayed. I cleaned my dad’s house, or the portions he’d allow me to.”
“He’s got a very messy house—he’s a hoarder,” Adam blurted. “He’s not being a good dad to her. She needs a guardian, like I have.”
She stepped back and took Adam’s hand, ignoring his odd choice of words. “I helped Victor see where his life was headed and how he could get out of his rut. He helped me clean my dad’s place some, too, and we were able to see past our old life—our mistakes. I can’t even begin to tell you how healing it was.”
“And now my son is tied up in all your garbage,” his dad said, jaw flexing.
“And I’m tied up in his. It doesn’t matter anymore to either of us who has more baggage, or more dirt to clean up. We both have issues, and we work on them together.”
“I went with her to say goodbye to the little girl she thought she’d killed,” Adam said.
His dad dropped his head back and laughed so tight and high pitched, it made a nasty river of ice-cold water run down her whole body. She was filled with bitter defeat, and the hairs on the back of her neck pricked. “Oh, this gets better. You told me last time you were here before you left, you were babysitting when the accident happened that killed that little girl, and that it was your fault. But dragging my son into this . . . Winding him around your finger like this, so he feels sorry for you and forgets about your promiscuity and constant past drug abuse . . . Now he will do whatever you want. Congratulations. I just . . . this I can’t—” He cut himself off, pinching the bridge of his nose and shutting his eyes for a minute.
She sighed. He’d never accept her. Never!
“I didn’t kill her.” she said. “We found out while we were there. It was her father’s fault. I was babysitting, and I was only twelve.”
“I don’t care how old you were.” He stared straight at Adam. “No, Adam. This can’t happen. This girl is a disaster—she’ll destroy you. She’s already starting to.”
Adam held up Mari’s hand and pointed with his other hand at the ring there. “This is what I want with her. I’m gonna marry her.”
Adam dropped her hand and stepped toward his dad. “Mari, you can leave now. I’m going to talk to my dad alone.”
She stood absolutely still and gaped with her mouth wide open.
“I said go.” Adam jerked his head toward the door and gave her an icy look.
She took a breath and walked away.
Samara shut the door behind her.
She shuffled to the Jeep, got inside and slumped over the steering wheel.
That was worse than she thought.
She started the car.
One disapproving parent down. One more to go.
And then what?
Where would she stay tonight?
Tears blurred her vision, but she drove anyway. The ring kept blaring at her.
What if they did use this ring? What if they did it—went to Vegas as soon as possible and went ahead and got married?
They could figure out where to go after that. He said he owned his car.
She’d obviously have to give up the Jeep, but they could do with one vehicle.
Oh my God! What a mess.
She drove home and stiffened her spine.
Screw it all. She’d pack and not say a word. Her mom didn’t deserve it. After all, she was the one that sent Mari back to that fuck-hole where her dad lived without so much as a “Sorry, kiddo. I know you hate it there, but I can’t do anything to stop this.”
Mari went inside and lay her large duffel bag on her bed.
She started emptying out drawers and stuffing items in the bag she wanted to keep with her.
It wasn’t like she had a whole lot of things anyway, so leaving behind half her stuff wouldn’t be a big deal.
“So, you’re back. Should I be surprised you left early?” Her mom stood in the doorway.
“Shut up,” Mari muttered.
“Excuse me?” Her mother sauntered inside. “Who’d you kill now? Your dad?”
“No, but if I had, it would’ve been in self-defense since he pulled a loaded gun on me,” Mari retorted.
Her mom laughed. “Oh, Will . . .That man.” She wiped away a tear of laugher. “He did that to me the day I was leaving him, too. Though, he actually took a shot at me as I drove away.”
Mari stopped packing and turned to her mother in a slow, methodical way. “Are you telling me you knew this about him and never warned me?” The tendons in her neck were standing out, and her entire face heated.
“I knew he would never hurt you. Just like I knew he wouldn’t actually hurt me that day. He was out of options. When he gets that way . . .” Her mom shrugged.
Mari stomped over to her.
Whaaaaack!
Mari punched her mom in the face and laid her out.
“You are the shittiest mom ever!” she yelled. “I hate that you never really took care of me or gave a damn about my welfare.”
Her mom strained to get back up, and as Mari pulled her arm back to do it again, her mom’s hand jutted out and snatched her wrist.
Her mom’s eyes went wide and she hissed, “Why are you wearing my ring?”
“You gave it to me, remember? It’s mine, and I took it away from dad’s house that’s filled with crap, because I’m never going back there again.” Mari snapped her wrist back to free it.
Her mom let go. “That’s mine!”
“It’s not yours anymore. You gave it to me when I turned ten. You said to use when I got married to somebody I loved since you never loved Dad.”
Her mother’s eyes went to slits. “I never said that.” She backed away.
“No . . . You said, and I quote, ‘This ring should go to you and only be worn if you love the man, since God knows, I’ve never loved anybody.’ I may have forgotten a few of the other things you said after that about sex, because, honestly, Mom, it was repulsive. I never wanted to hear about how many guys you’ve laid.” She went back to packing her bag. “They don’t love you either—by the way. They won’t ever really make you whole, because you’re too broken. Worse than me. You need help.” Mari shoved in a book she had been reading, then zipped the bag shut.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“I’m leaving. I’m eighteen, and I can’t live here anymore.” Mari gripped her bag strap tighter.
“Dad won’t take you back,”
her mom said, monotone.
“Like I’d ever go there for refuge? Both you and Dad have been threatening me for the last few weeks to send me back to him permanently, knowing full-well it was an idle threat. You can’t keep me against my will. Neither of you—I’m legal age, and I’m not staying here another second.” Mari snorted. “I’m gonna get a job and live on my own. I have some money saved up.” She sighed. “I’m going to graduate, marry Adam and find a way to make a difference in this world by helping people.”
“That boy will never marry you. He’s way too good for you, and he’ll figure that out soon enough.” Her mom’s arms were crossed over her chest, and her cheek was red where Mari had decked her.
Mari heaved her bag up onto her shoulder. “Maybe he will, but until then, he’s mine. Don’t come looking for me, because I’d rather not see you again until you get yourself sorted out.” She stepped past her mom into the hallway, then turned for a moment. “I’m serious . . . Get some therapy. If not for me, for you, because you’re a mess.”
Mari tossed her mom’s Jeep key on the couch right before she stepped out.
The fresh air hit her, and instead of breaking down, she walked down the street with steady feet.
How long could they carry her, though?
How long could she be strong?
Chapter 18
Mari had left his home at Adam’s request, even though he knew she was heading home to something probably just as bad. But he had to remove her from this tenseness in his home so he could have a little more control of the situation. It was his responsibility as her boyfriend to protect her. And he could see the conversation they’d been having with his father wasn’t going well.
Adam walked into the home office and waited for his dad to take his usual spot at his desk where he could either scowl or look at him with a blank expression.
Didn’t really matter. Either way, Dustin Latham was going to hear his son out.
Adam closed the door and took a seat in the leather recliner a few feet away from his dad.
“What do you expect me to say?” his dad began.
“Nothing at all. I expect you to listen to a grown man with all the answers. If you’d stop thinking you know everything for a minute, maybe you could learn something.”
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