by Malcom, Anne
Another pause. “Or another man, if that’s his choice. I want to watch him grow. I want him to understand and adore his mother. I want to be a part in makin’ him into the remarkable fuckin’ human I know he’s gonna be. I wanna be his father. In every way I can be, ‘cept blood. And if you’re up for it, I wanna put my baby in your belly, not because I don’t think of Nathan as mine, but because I wanna watch it all from the start. I wanna be there every step of the way. I want to grow our family. I want fuckin’ dirty diapers, getting up in the middle of the night. And if you don’t want that, I’m more than okay with what I’ve got right now.”
I sucked in a strangled breath as I hadn’t breathed in the whole time he’d been talking. I’d been treating his words like oxygen because that’s surely what they felt like.
“I do have you,” he said it like a statement, like he said everything, with a force, with a power that turned me on all the time, even when it pissed me off. But there was a question there, a question in his eyes, a tiny bit of vulnerability that was just mine too.
I moved so I was fully on top of him, our naked bodies brushing.
“You have me,” I told him. “You have us,” I whispered. “And I want everything you just said.”
He laid his lips against mine, positioned me so I could feel the hardness of him pressing against the softness of me.
“Then I’ll give it to you.”
I put a restraining hand on his shoulder, right before he surged into me. “How about we give it to each other?” I murmured.
He paused. “Yeah, cupcake. That sounds perfect.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Lance dropped me and Nathan off the next day.
Well, he didn’t drop me off.
He came into the diner with.
And Bobby was the first to declare, “Oh fuck no.” When he spotted Lance, holding a cleaver, of all things.
Lance, to his credit, didn’t even flinch at the angry muscled man directing fury his way while holding a cleaver.
He stopped right in front of him. Then looked to Logan, who had rounded the corner to see this. Logan was not a violent man, but he’d seen me the past two months. They all had.
He totally looked like he could brandish a cleaver too.
“A word?” Lance said, voice even, calm.
Bobby gripped the cleaver for a second longer, Lance kept eye contact. Bobby put down the cleaver. “Better be some good fucking words,” he muttered as he, Lance, and Logan disappeared into the office.
I didn’t know what the words were, but they definitely must’ve been good, considering no one was bleeding or maimed when they walked out five minutes later.
Logan was grinning.
Bobby was not.
But he looked less like he was going to hack up the man I loved with a cleaver, so that rocked.
What rocked even more, was Lance walking up to me, grabbing my hip and kissing me full on the mouth. “Have breakfast with me?” he murmured against my lips.
“We already had breakfast,” I reminded him. And we did. He’d gotten donuts while I was showering.
Nathan was happy about that.
I was too.
But it had nothing to do with the donuts.
Lance’s hand clutched my hip. “You need another one, baby,” he said. “It’s on me, fact you’re twenty pounds lighter than what’s healthy for you. Black mark on me. Plannin’ on rectifying that. Starting now. With a second breakfast. Like the hobbits.”
I raised my brow and choked down a giggle. “The hobbits?” I repeated.
He nodded.
Holy shit. I loved this guy.
Needless to say, I had a second breakfast.
* * *
“He’s in your life now, for good?” Esther asked me as I settled on the seat beside her.
Lance was going to pick Nathan up from school, do some guy stuff with him. I had no idea what that was, but I was sure Nathan would love it.
Esther hadn’t said much on the Lance subject, but I knew she had something to say, because she was Esther. Hence me coming out the back on my break when I knew she was out smoking.
“I want him to be,” I said without hesitation. “He makes me happy. Makes Nathan happy.” I thought of the change in my son. The change in Lance. Their bond. It was special. Sacred. Natural.
“But?” she probed, sensing the word before I spoke it.
“I’m scared,” I admitted for the first time out loud. “After everything I’ve been through, happiness is scary. Because life has taught me something’s coming after it. Something to take it all away.”
“I’ve learned a lot of things in my life, sweetie,” she said, taking a drag of her smoke, a chesty cough following her exhale. “Almost all the things I’ve learned, I’ve learned the hard way. Despite what Disney tells us, there’s no easy way to learn the things in life worth knowing, to get the things worth having. Money can’t be unspent. Words can’t be unsaid. Wounds can’t be perfectly healed. But money can be saved. Words can be swallowed. Punches can be pulled. It’s a sad thing to realize life isn’t permanent.” She looked outward into the empty parking lot, as if she could see her own end in the haze of her cigarette smoke amidst the sounds of her coughing. The thought chilled me.
Her wrinkled and tanned hand squeezed my own.
“But there’s a silver lining knowing that life is temporary. That means that most of our situations are too. Our hardships. And I know from experience ‘cause I think I’ve been through some of the worst a human has to go through. And we’re not through. Not really. But we’ve realized that happiness, even temporary, is worth holding onto. So, my beautiful girl, just hold on.”
* * *
I soon discovered that ‘guy stuff’ was not going to a sports game, shooting wild pigs or learning torture techniques, as I half expected it to be with Lance.
No, it turns out, it was going shopping.
For football gear that Nathan would grow out of in five seconds but he loved and wore to bed.
And also, for the box that Lance had set on the table beside the glass of wine I was finishing.
He didn’t say anything. Didn’t make a big show of the presentation, just placed it silently on the table.
“What is this, Lance?” I whispered, looking at the box with wide eyes. My stomach was twisting with something like excitement and nerves.
It couldn’t be a ring.
It was much too soon. Despite this, I didn’t feel completely sick and panicked at the idea of wearing his ring, bearing his name—I was totally old-fashioned like that—and having a husband who actually loved me, protected me and who didn’t use me as a punching bag.
And more importantly, who treated my son like the little king he was. Who would teach him how to be a man. A good one.
But it was too soon.
Irresponsible.
And the box was far too big for a ring.
Even though I definitely wasn’t a woman accustomed to the finer things in life and had never bought myself any kind of jewelry that didn’t come from Walmart or an outlet store, I knew what a velvet box meant.
That something sparkly and really frickin’ expensive was inside. Because the box was nicer than anything I’d ever owned—well, before Rosie.
I didn’t expect Lance to be the kind of guy that would buy a woman jewelry. Then again, I didn’t expect Lance.I didn’t expect him to come back after he’d left.
But he did.
He did all of that.
I should probably learn not to expect anything from Lance and just welcome everything that he gave me.
Which just happened to include whatever was inside this velvet box.
Lance didn’t answer me, because despite the fact that a lot of things had changed between us, almost everything, his penchant for silence hadn’t. He was a big ‘actions speak louder than words’ kind of guy.
I definitely didn’t complain about that, since a lot of his actions ended in me having an orgasm.
<
br /> This action didn’t involve an orgasm. It involved him moving forward so his hands fastened against my wrist, undoing the watch there and letting it fall to the floor.
I didn’t say a word, because even now, I was still affected, struck dumb by his touch. I didn’t think I’d ever get used to it, to him. Lance wasn’t someone you got used to. He would always make me feel like this, uncomfortable, excited, content. For as long as he was here. I really hoped that was forever.
My eyes widened when he opened the velvet box, snatching what it contained and not hesitating to fasten it around my wrist. I gaped at my old watch, lying sadly on the floor, staring at me with that fake leather strap and the scratched face.
And then my eyes went to the watch that was expertly fastened by large, capable and sexy hands. The hands and the watch were cold against my skin, cold in a good way. In the best way. The metal at my wrist sparkled against the sunlight. Or was it the diamonds? I was pretty darn sure they were diamonds. Because watches that came in fancy velvet boxes weren’t made with fake diamonds. On that note, it wasn’t ‘metal’ either. It was almost certainly gold.
Like real, legit gold.
I knew just by looking at this that it was worth more than my car. You could feel that. Even my own body, unaccustomed to wealth or nice things, it knew what was wrapped around it. It should have felt weird. Unnatural.
“You’re always runnin’ late,” he said, stroking the back of my hand. “Didn’t get you this to change that. I do not want to change a single thing about you. But I know you never have your phone anywhere near you, maybe I do wanna change that.”
There was a bite to his voice that I guessed might have scared the pants off someone else. It definitely made me want to take my pants off. But it also definitely didn’t scare me. Because I knew this man with the quiet menace and coiled violence would never hurt me.
“You’re always lookin’ down at that old, scratched thing,” Lance continued, looking at the watch at our feet. “Don’t want you lookin’ down at somethin’ like that. I want you to look down at somethin’ beautiful, somethin’ worthy of you wearing on your body.” He paused. “Maybe I’m selfish. I wanted to put something on you that you’d look down and see me.”
A tear trailed down my face and landed on the watch. The watch that was worth so much more than metal and stone.
I looked up, to eyes that were so much more than a stony gaze. I moved my hand so I could cup Lance’s stubbled cheeks. “I don’t need to look down at a beautiful watch to see you,” I whispered. “But I’m keeping this one anyway,” I added with a small smile. He rewarded me with a lightening of his eyes.
“You remember that morning when Nathan asked me where my place of worship was?” Lance asked, voice thick and odd.
I made myself pause, pretend to think, as if I hadn’t memorized every moment, every word, every silence I’d had with the man who’d brought my son back to me. The man who bought us donuts. Who grilled burgers in my back yard. Who held my son’s hand. Who fixed my car without asking. Who made it his life to protect us. Who pulled me out of a burning building.
The man I was in love with. He hadn’t said those four words yet, but I was wearing evidence of his love for me.
“Yeah, I remember,” I whispered.
“I was lying,” he said. “I don’t have a place of worship, fuck I had nothing to worship. I had a pocket of peace on a lake in a shitty boat. A pocket of loneliness I pretended was peace. I had nothing to worship and everything to curse. Until you. Until Nathan. Your smile is the altar I worship at.” His hand moved to brush my bottom lip. His eyes fastened on it and my knees wobbled. Then his hand moved to the column of my neck. Down to my chest, right between my breasts. “Your lungs, inhaling and exhaling is what I thank god for. You are my church, Elena.”
I didn’t know what to do with the words. The pure happiness they spread through the core of me. The terror that mingled with it.
But then I remembered Esther’s words.
So I just held on.
Two Months Later
I don’t know why he did it.
I guess I’ll never know.
Terrible people don’t have reasons for doing terrible things. Not reasons that make sense to anyone who isn’t terrible at least. What was that expression, ‘some people just wanted to watch the world burn’? Then there were people, people like Robert, who didn’t just want to watch the whole world burn, just strike the match on people in it.
So he struck the match on me.
Because he wanted to hurt me.
For ruining his career, presumably.
Or for testifying against him in the upcoming court case that would almost certainly see him have life in prison ten times over for various crimes that were continually being added as Rosie found more victims.
That was something he didn’t do to himself, it was things he did to innocent women.
The fancy lawyer that Greenstone Security had fought against bail. But it seemed his father—who now had his own charges pending against him—still had enough friends in high places to do the lowest of deeds.
To say Lance had been angry about Robert being out on bail would be an understatement.
He smashed a chair. One, he replaced later and felt very bad about breaking. I’d understood his anger. His fear. It was the latter that had him breaking the chair, I was sure. Fear for me. For Nathan.
For a repeat of his terrible Christmas Eve ten years ago.
I had plenty of fear too, but it didn’t land like it used to. Didn’t crawl into the core of me. Because we had Lance. Because we had the entire team at Greenstone. And that was not something I was fighting against anymore. I welcomed it.
Lance was beyond protective for the first couple of weeks Robert was out on bail. Neither I nor Nathan went anywhere alone. Lance sat at the diner for every one of my shifts. That was of course when he wasn’t sitting outside of Nathan’s school. Then Duke, or Heath, or Luke was at the diner. None of them complained. Especially since they got unlimited pie.
Nothing happened.
Rosie and I speculated that Robert had finally grown some brains. “If he’d grown balls and a dick too, he’d be on his way to a South American country right now, to disappear into the jungle and be eaten by snakes. But he’s never going to do that. He’s still cocky, regardless of his lack of cock or balls. He still thinks he’s somehow going to get out of this.”
She was right. I knew Robert. He was an entitled asshole, among many other things. Seeing him smug at the bail hearing was enough to show me he was deluded as well as evil. He would think he’d get out of kidnapping, assault and rape charges with five women to testify against him.
It was so very Robert.
I reasoned he wouldn’t come and cause trouble for me. He’d be waiting until he won the court case. Then, I was sure, he’d try again. But that would never happen.
After the two weeks, things calmed down. Slightly. Lance was still uber protective. I didn’t expect anything less. There was no such thing as too protective with Nathan.
It turned out, there was no need for Lance to sit outside of Nathan’s school, for him to make sure that my kid never went to a playdate alone.
It wasn’t Nathan that Robert wanted.
Not that I knew that at the time.
I was pulling into the parking lot of the diner, thinking of Lance and I’s latest conversation. I had begun converting the garage of the rental into a workspace for me to work on my furniture. Rosie had gotten in touch with friends and I already had a website.
‘Chaos Interiors’ was the name of my business. Rosie chose it. And designed the site. And of course, it was perfect. Simple, with a touch of boho, with edge. I updated it whenever I had new stuff, and somehow, people followed it. Bought stuff.
Lance had entered the discussion of me leaving the diner, more gently than he had last time. In other words, he no longer structured it as a command, but an actual conversation.
Just like t
he discussions about him paying the rent, utilities and groceries had eventually gone, he won. Because he was right, if I really wanted to do this—and I did—I couldn’t half-ass it. He wouldn’t stand for me tiring myself like I had been lately, working at the diner and then coming home and working on furniture for hours, sometimes after Nathan had gone to bed.
Something had to give.
I wanted this.
I wanted to be something more than a waitress.
Do something I loved.
Create things.
Make broken, discarded things beautiful, show the world that broken was beautiful.
I also wanted to teach Nathan that he could be more. If he was brave enough, dedicated enough. It would take bravery to quit a job that had given me a steady paycheck for years, that ensured, no matter how lean times got, they never got dire. Sure, Lance was here, bulldozing his way through everything and distracting me with sex and pretty words so we didn’t argue about him taking over the bills.
But I didn’t want Nathan to remember a mother that just let a man take care of her. I wanted him to remember me as something different. I wanted him to be proud of me.
So that’s why I sat in my car in the parking lot of the diner for longer than I would have. That’s why I was distracted when I got out of the car, thinking of ways I could approach Logan and Esther tell them I was handing in my notice.
That was why I didn’t notice Robert until he was right in my space, clutching my arm, bruising my skin and yanking me into his body.
I also hadn’t expected it. It was broad daylight, the street across from the parking lot was busy, there were busboys outside the employee entrance smoking and eyes glued to their phones. Although I hadn’t expected Robert to come after me, if I had, I would have thought it would have been when I was more vulnerable.
It turns out it doesn’t matter where I was, he knew my ultimate vulnerability.
“Don’t say a fucking word or I make sure our son doesn’t make it to his sixth birthday,” he hissed, breath minty and fresh as always.