by Stuart, Amie
"What was that between you and Bettina earlier?"
"What do you mean?"
"Why were you so bitchy to her, Jessa. That’s not like you at all. And don’t think I missed the looks you and Zack have been giving the both of us all night."
"I heard you telling Zack about Betti and that guy. The one whose hair she was cuttin’."
Scowling, he threw himself in an old plastic chair. "What the hell gives you the right to eavesdrop on a private conversation? And publicly embarrass my wife? How could you do that when she obviously made a special trip up here to see me."
"I just don’t want her thinkin’ she can get away with murder."
The words hung in the air between them. Everything always came back to Rhea. Fuck! "So you think I can’t take care of myself? Is that it? Is that what everyone thinks? ‘Poor Ty, he’s such a freakin’ nitwit’!" His voice rose with every word.
"Ty, it’s not like that at all. We’re just worried—"
"Did the family elect you my bodyguard?" he demanded, standing and pacing around the tiny room.
"That’s enough," Zack snapped from his spot at the door. "Your wife’s not the only one pregnant."
He glanced at Zack then back at Jessa. "Why’d she call you a bitch?"
"Lay off!" Zack slammed the door, settling on the arm of the couch.
"No! Why did she call you a bitch?" He stopped in front of her, hands planted on his hips. The second ticked by as she glanced from him to Zack, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her shirt.
"I went to see her the other day." She rubbed her lips together, a worried frown on her face.
Now it all made sense. Wednesday. His temper jumped to a simmer as he turned to his brother. "Did you know about this?"
"Only that she heard us talking. That’s when I found out she went to see Betti." Zack grimaced, the fire gone from his eyes.
"What did you say to her, Jessa?" he softly demanded.
"Ty—" Zack began.
"Butt out! What did you say to her?" he ground out, struggling against the urge to holler—after all, she was pregnant, too.
Eyes down, Jessa whispered, "I told her, if she hurt you, I’d kick her ass."
"On Wednesday, right? You told her that on Wednesday?"
Jessa slowly nodded as Zack sighed and sank down on the couch beside her.
"Great, just great." Ty kicked the orange chair as hard as he could, no longer caring if the whole bar heard him. "You know how I knew?" he roared. Jessa flinched but didn’t respond. "Because I found her on our bed bawling! You left my wife in tears, and she skipped work. She’s not Rhea! Get used to it! I am."
* * *
Damnit, how could Jessa have done that? Ty returned to the bench he and Bettina had sat on earlier, willing his temper to cool in the chilly night air.
He hadn’t been this het up in ages, was wound so tight he shook with anger.
Bettina’s house was for sale, and suddenly, moving didn’t seem like such a bad idea. Away from his family’s well-meaning interference and Rhea’s type of complications.
"Hello, Ty, honey." Busted. But she’d picked the wrong night to hunt him down.
"I’m not your honey." Ty shoved his hands in his coat pockets, forcing himself to keep his breathing slow and steady.
Her heavily made up face looked clownish in the moonlight—and not like a nice clown either. Shades of his dream. What would she look like with no makeup? As ghoulish and scary as in his nightmares? "You know, that was awful rude of you to just leave me standing there like that earlier."
Was he supposed to feel sorry for her?
"What? Wouldn’t Billy come and get you?" Still wound up over his run-in with Jessa, Ty’s voice shook and he cursed himself, refusing to show any emotion she might interpret as a weakness. He swallowed hard and took a deep breath, reminding himself that she and Billy were fucking her best friend over.
"We broke up."
Ahaa. Well, that explained her suddenly sweet disposition.
"You mean Melyn found out about you two, don’t’cha?" He didn’t hear a hint of remorse in her voice. And God help him, he smirked. Not that she probalby saw it.
Rhea laughed and sat next to him, pressing her breasts against his arm. "I missed you, so I dumped him."
Lying bitch. He snorted with laughter and deliberately leaned away, elbows on his knees, to escape the smell of her perfume and her touch.
At one time he’da given his left nut for a show of affection from her. But compared to her, being married to Bettina was a cakewalk—with extra icing.
With another laugh, he plowed ahead. "You missed me? What the fuck did you miss, Rhea? Throwing dishes at me, braining me with an iron skillet or nagging and me and screaming like a banshee every time you didn’t get your damned way?"
"Please, Ty. Just gimme one more chance." She leaned against him again, her hands on his back and a pout on her face. "It’ll be so good. Just like when we were first married. I promise."
"Ha! You’re fuckin’ crazy—" he stood and turned to face her, happy to be far enough away she couldn’t touch him, "—and I married Bettina Blanchard a week ago."
"So, divorce her." Rhea scowled, her voice shrill.
"She’s having my baby." He smiled down at her in victory as those four words warmed his heart.
* * *
After a long hot shower, Ty crawled into bed next to Bettina who looked so peaceful he didn’t have the heart to wake her up. His mind wandered back to both confrontations with Rhea. His dream about the cottonwood nagged at him. Why had he told her about the baby? He didn’t know whether to be angry or laugh...or worry over the feeling of impending doom that tortured him. He finally resorted to deep breathing exercises to wind down, drifting off after 4:00 AM.
Ty was dreaming again. He was dreaming, but he couldn’t stop it. Couldn’t wake himself up.
Fighting for oxygen, he ran through a shrinking tunnel toward a pinprick of light. Then came to a screeching halt in a field of flowers. It was warm and the sun was shining. In the distance he could see the cottonwood. Staring up at the cloudless blue sky, he spun around in a circle.
"Hello!" he shouted, but didn’t hear anything. Not birds or the wind, just his own heartbeat in his ears. The absence of sound was almost painful.
Now he was lying on a blanket. He couldn’t move. The weight of the world had settled in the middle of his chest. Then he felt it. Panicked at the feel of something soft and wet on his stomach. His heart picking up speed again as he fought for air. The urgency, the sense of danger slowly left him. A warm fire spread outward from his stomach. The sun was licking his skin. His cock.
Ty moaned, his fear completely evaporating as that soft heat engulfed him. Fingers gently kneaded his sac. Rhea had never done this before.
"Oh, honey." His cock swelled as the speed and pressure increased. Her gentle mouth suddenly hungrier. She’d have to stop soon. Ty was afraid she’d never forgive him if he...Oh God! Her teeth lightly grazed the tip.
"Baby...Rhea." He reached for her. She had to stop before it was too late. His fingers got tangled in the mass of sunshine buried in his lap but something was wrong. What? He couldn’t focus long enough to figure it out.
Jesus, it felt so damn good. Maybe just another...few...
The pressure built and his sac drew up tight. It was almost too late. His head rolled back as he thrust his hips toward her tender mouth and liquid tongue. Liquid...sunshine.
He was so turned on. Rhea had actually gone down on him. The heartbeat in his ears reached a deafening peak then stopped as his hips thrust into her mouth as he came. The clouds above his head sped up.
"Rhea...Rhea...Oh Ree."
The fan. Ty could hear the fan. And his own heavy breathing. He was wide awake, and if he could feel her, she must be here. The last few years had been a horrible nightmare. He and Rhea were still married. Things would get better. They had to.
Then reality crashed in on him.
The last
few years had been real. The hair he had his hands buried in wasn’t Rhea’s, but soft curls that wound around his fingers like ivy. Gently, he untangled his hands and placed them on either side of his head.
What the hell had he done? Ty’s heart raced, but for a different reason now. His stomach rolled over as a wave of nausea hit him. How much had he said? God, had he actually said Rhea’s name out loud? Bettina would kill him. Come up swinging any second now. And he deserved it. Eyes still closed he lay there, heart pounding so hard it hurt. He flinched, tensing up more when she moved. "Bettina."
Her voice was a low harsh whisper. "Don’t speak. Don’t you dare say a fucking word."
He reached for the lamp on his other side, blinking as his vision cleared and the demons he thought he’d banished scurried to darker pastures—for the time being.
Bettina. The pained expression on her face hurt worse than the iron skillet Rhea had once brained him with. "Oh my God, Bee. Oh God, are you okay?"
She laid down on the far side of the bed and turned her back on him with a sob that cut through him like a knife.
"Bee, I didn’t mean it. Please Bee. I’m sooo sorry."
She only cried harder. Scooting closer, he smoothed her hair away from her face. "Baby, please answer me."
"How could you? How could I be so stupid...fucking biggest mistake of my life!"
"I’m sorry." He was practically choking on his own tears. Ty cradled her, smoothed back her hair and kissed her neck. One became three as he firmly planted himself against her soft backside. An elbow in his ribs caused him to grunt in pain, then Bettina kicked and flailed her way out of his arms.
"Please forgive me if I’m not feeling frisky, Ty!" She climbed out of bed and snatched up her favorite pillow. His.
"Where you goin’, Bee?"
"The couch!" Her green eyes could have cut diamonds.
"Bee, please! Don’t leave."
"Quit calling me Bee, damnit!" The door slammed so the windows rattled.
Shit! Shit! Shit! Ty sank back against the pillow and stared at the ceiling. He’d fucked up. Again. Worse yet, there was only one way to fix this, and he didn’t know how he could tell Bee—Bettina—everything.
How could he tell her about Rhea? What would he say? More importantly, what would she say?
He went to check on her but stopped at the bedroom door. She was crying. And there weren’t enough apologies in the world that he could give her. All he wanted to do was go pick her up and put her back in their bed. Instead, he silently closed the door and sat back down on the edge of the bed. He couldn’t talk to her until he figured out what to say.
What the hell was he going to do?
Almost five-thirty. Tim would be up. Ty quickly dressed and slipped out of the house, shivering in the cold early-morning air. Ty trudged across the road to Tim’s, quietly closing the back door so he didn’t wake Rene.
"What the hell are you doing up so early?" Tim frowned at him, then reached in the cabinet above his head for a cup.
Ty sat in the old-fashioned wooden chair, eyes on the linoleum. The place had begun to look worn and uncared for. Neither Tim nor Rene were much for housekeeping and it showed. Ty accepted the coffee and dumped sugar in.
"It’s a wonder you still have teeth putting that much coffee in your sugar," Tim teased.
Ty laughed. Coffee in his sugar. Very old joke. But it felt good to laugh and the joke fit like a broken-in boot.
"Ty," Tim sighed. "Last night your wife called Jessa a bitch in front of half the town. And I know it was close to three when you got home. It’s not even six now, so what’s up?"
Ty sipped his coffee, his mind racing. "How do you...think she’d take hearing...about Rhea and the abuse?"
"You haven’t told her?" Tim frowned.
"I didn’t want her to know—or anyone else for that matter! I still don’t want her to know! I have nightmares," he quietly confessed, pausing for another sip.
"Before, it was just about her and me, but lately it’s been about her hurting the baby." He looked up at his brother. "I saw her yesterday. Twice...when I went to get something to eat, then later at the bar...She was there and I had one...another nightmare a while ago."
"And," his brother prompted.
"It...shit. The nightmare changed. I-I thought Rhea was giving me head."
"Holy shit," Tim drawled softly.
"I said her name!" Ty was too embarrassed to look anywhere but at the table. He traced the plastic tablecloth’s pattern with his fingernail.
"Hoo boy are you in for some major ass-kissing."
"Maybe Dad was right. Maybe we shouldn’t have gotten married." He paused to rub his eyes, then his forehead. "She said it was a mistake." The biggest fucking mistake.
"But if you tell her about the abuse—"
"I don’t want her to know!" He couldn't.
"I don’t see where you’ve got much choice. You think Rhea’s gonna snatch your happiness right out of your hands?"
Ty slowly nodded. "I know that’s all part of the anxiety, but I’m just waiting on the other shoe to drop." After this morning, it probably already has.
"She’s so upset right now, that if you don’t tell her, then Rhea wins. Just like in your dream. Can you see that, Ty?"
"Shit," he whispered, slumping in his chair. Tim was right.
"Betti up?" Tim’s own voice was barely above a whisper.
He shrugged. "I dunno. I think she was crying on the couch when I left."
"Go cook her breakfast and love on her a while. She’s not the type to hold a grudge, but plan on that ass-kissing. And think about what I said. For what it’s worth, I think she’d take the news about Rhea well. Sort of. You can’t expect her to not be upset but she’s not just anybody, Ty. She’s your wife."
"I know. And it’s not the same at all. Not like before." Ty nodded, giving his brother a small smile. "Think I’ll go for a ride first."
"You gonna be okay?"
"I just need to clear my head." ...figure out how to convince his wife not to leave him. And how to tell her that her predecessor used to wale on him.
Chapter Nineteen
LOVE STINKS
Damn, Ty Boudreaux had gone and broke my heart again.
At the sound of the front door opening, I laid perfectly still, hoping he’d go away. Jump off a cliff. Anything!
Instead, I got a very gruff, "Get up. We need to talk."
I rolled over and peered at Tim through a curtain of hair. "Get out," I croaked. I didn’t want to talk to anybody, especially my husband. I was still in a snit over Ty’s Perfidy.
"What do you want in your coffee?"
"Get the fuck out!" I rolled back over and pulled the covers up around my chin.
"I’m not leaving until we talk!" He yanked the quilt back.
I laid there a few more minutes then said, “Fine. Get me coffee, asshole."
He stood scowling down at me, shaking his finger in my face. "You and I got matters to settle."
"Didn’t your momma teach you it’s not polite to point?" I swatted at his finger.
Damn men!
According to the clock on my phone it wasn’t even six yet. Damnit! Damnit! Damnit!
Tim headed for the kitchen. I dressed and crawled back on the couch, ignoring his blatant frustration as he paced while I slurped down some hot coffee.
My pride and my heart hurt in equal measure and divorce sounded good.
One hundred percent, my ass!
No matter how much Ty gave me, it’d never be enough if I had to constantly play second fiddle to That Bitch.
"What happened?" he demanded.
"Why are you in my living room at not even six in the morning? Waking me up?" I croaked, cradling the cup in my hands. I hadn’t really been sleeping. Who the hell could sleep?
Tim paused in mid-stride and his head came up, a deer in the headlights look appearing in his blue eyes. "We have a problem, Houston."
"It’s ‘Houston, we have a problem
.’ And what makes you think my problems are your business?!"
Sporting the scowl to end all scowls, Tim sat with a thunk on the table in front of me. "You love my brother?"
"I’m leaving him."
Rule Number Fifteen: Love didn’t equal happiness.
"That’s not what I asked. He told me what happened."
"He tol—I’m going home to my house...today." My face was red hot and sweat prickled my underarms.
"Aw shit, Betti. You said you loved him. He ain’t perfect; none of us are. How could you do this to him? Just walk out!?" His anger left me near-speechless in shock.
But not quite. "Me? I’m not explaining—"
"—You know he had a hard time married to Rhea."
"Well that sure as hell didn’t seem to bother him this morning," I snapped. When he was calling out her name instead of mine.
"Haven’t you realized yet, the worst thing you can do is leave Ty," he said softly. He’d gone from angry to begging. Begging me not to leave his brother. "If your marriage means anything, if you really truly love him like your friend Cassi said, stay. And fucking at least try, for the baby’s sake. Even if it means moving into a spare bedroom for a while."
"Tim Caldwell, are you insane? First Jessa, and now you. How dare you think you can interfere in my marriage? Alright, fine, so I love him! I always have." I shook with rage. "But I can’t fight a ghost!"
"Now listen to me. He was really torn up when he came over this morning. At least give him a chance. Try and ride this out..." He tripped and stumbled over his own words. No mean feat for him.
"I never thought I’d have this chance, Tim, and now I feel like it’s gone." I sagged against the couch cushions, suddenly exhausted.
"It’s only gone if you want it to be gone."
I stared at him, trying to figure out what he meant. Just then, the front door opened. My hero, home from the wars.
Despite the fact that I had nothing to feel guilty about, I did feel guilty sitting there talking about my husband with Tim. I opted for the offensive, before things got ugly, and nudged him hard with my foot. "Get out, Tim."