Secret Maneuvers

by Jessie Lane

  Slowly backing away from the enraged man in front of me, I stupidly couldn’t help but wonder. Had someone just hit the play button on Bon Jovi’s You Give Love A Bad Name? Because the pain radiating through my chest sure as shit felt like I’d been shot through the heart. It was such an acute agony that I briefly wondered if one really could die from a broken heart. A particular affliction I’d been so sure that I’d survived before seemed to mock me with the truth that my heartbreak had just been put on hold all of these years; it was finally back to finish me off. Would I ever stop being a fool when it came to Bobby Baker?

  The next thing I knew, there was an equally pissed fourteen-year-old man-child standing in front of me. Acting as a barrier between me and the source of my pain.

  “Don’t you take this out on her! Obviously you need to stick your fingers back in your ears and wiggle them around some more because you must not have heard me when I said this the first time. She’s never said a bad word about you to me. I can make up my own mind! It wasn’t so hard to make it when I read that letter of hers. Or when I heard Mom and Aunt Teagan talking late one night. Going on and on about how shitty their life was growing up and how they’re glad that they’re not living like that anymore. Who could blame them? Who would want to stay around a town that belittled them and did nothing to help them while they were getting beat on by their own fathers?

  “How can you blame her for wanting to run as fast and as far as she could from that place after you left her? I’m close enough to the age Mom was when she ran away. If I was put in her shoes, I would have done the same thing. Maybe it wasn’t the right thing for her to do in the long run, but it was the right thing for her at the time.”

  Through the haze of pain, I managed to grasp onto one thought. God, I loved my boy. Even if he was wrong and yelling at his father when he shouldn’t be, I couldn’t help thinking that I seriously loved my son right now. Defending me when I was the one who was at fault here. He wasn’t done, though, because he just kept on going.

  “You know what else Mom talked to Aunt Teagan about that night? How she wasn’t surprised that you ended up not wanting her because she wasn’t good enough for you and the whole town made sure to remind her of that often. Aunt Teagan tried to tell her she was wrong, but she wouldn’t hear it. Well, you wanna know what I think? I think Aunt Teagan was right and you’re not good enough for my mom!”

  Losing the fight to hold myself up on my own, I slumped forward to lean my forehead on the back of my son’s shoulder. Tears that were streaming down my face were now caught by the soft cotton from Seth’s shirt and there was a giant ass wet spot from where I was silently bawling like a baby. The magnitude of my mistakes were battering at me like a ten ton hammer. Beating me down until I couldn’t help being amazed that I wasn’t a broken heap on the floor, but it wasn’t over, because my son had one more nail to put in my proverbial coffin.

  “And until you realize that you’re just as much to blame for all of this as she is, then no, I don’t want to get to know you. I don’t want anything to do with you. And if you ever call MY MOTHER a bitch again, I’ll show you just how much of a man my mother raised me to be all on her own because I will knock you the hell out!”

  The door slammed behind Bobby as he left.

  Oh, God, what had I done?

  Chapter Twelve

  Bobby

  “Baker in position.”

  Sometimes, going to work was a blessing. Keeping the mind occupied could be a very good thing. A soldier was taught, from the time he tied on his boots in basic training, that he had to be able to clear his mind of all distractions and concentrate on the mission. It didn’t matter if that mission was cleaning the latrine or going in to enemy territory to neutralize a high value target. A distracted man was a dead man.

  So here I was, lying on the ground, concealed in the dark of night and hidden in the shadows of the trees, behind the Big Bull Bar, using the scope on my rifle to watch the back entrance. Waiting for any kind of activity that would bring us one step closer to figuring out if the bar’s manager, Henderson, and his partner were ready to move the guns to Mexico, or if they were waiting for more. With such a large portion of their shipment having been confiscated yesterday, they had to be getting antsy to move the rest of their order before it could be found.

  One second I was alone, considering our target’s possible courses of action, and the next I had a six-foot, two hundred and twenty pound body lying next to me.

  “One of these days, I’m going to tie a bell around your neck, Commander, so that I always know when your ass is coming. I’m getting tired of you sneaking up on me.”

  “You’ve been awfully moody since yesterday, Baker. Ready to talk about whatever it is that happened?”

  “Nothing to talk about, Sir.” Because every guy wanted to talk about how they spent the night deep in a bottle of Jack Daniels after having the mother of all blow outs with their practically grown son on what was supposed to be their getting to know you meet-and-greet. Over twenty-four hours later, Jaxon was lucky I was even fucking sober.

  “So, that’s it then? You’re waving the white flag and giving up?”

  “Can’t give up what I never had, Jaxon.”

  “You’re wrong. There are men that would kill for what you have.”

  “And what exactly is it that you think I have? A woman that’s betrayed me? A son that hates me for what I did to his mother?” Letting out a snort, I grumbled, “Yeah, there’re guys lined up a mile long just hoping to have all of that shit.”

  Jaxon nodded his head. “Keeping your son from you was wrong, but you were wrong, too. Whether you like it or not, every action has an equal and opposite reaction in this world. Basic science. Is it fair? No, but if you’re one of those people that believe life is fair, then I’d have to inform you that you’re sadly mistaken. You’re also ridiculously stupid if you can’t realize what you have been given because it’s something that people the world over would kill to have.”

  “What, Seth? Yeah, I know; I’m lucky to have a kid. Even if he does hate me right now.”

  “No, you moron. I’m talking about the other thing you were given. A second chance. That’s what people the world over would kill for. Just look at Riley. No matter what happened in the past, if he was gifted the second chance that’s been given to you, he’d fight for it. You, on the other hand, are just letting it slip through your fingers.”

  Jaxon disappeared just as suddenly as he had appeared, but his words lingered. They managed to penetrate the fog of my anger, the scorching burn of my pain, and something inside of me knew that he was right. Whether I wanted to admit it or not. If Riley’s ex-wife, Kara, walked back into his life tomorrow, Riley would be on his knees begging her for another chance. Hell, he’d get down on his knees and gut himself for just five minutes of her time; making the most of the opportunity given to him.

  Deep down, I wanted the dream. White picket fence, two point five kids, and the little wife at home in the kitchen, cooking dinner with her service weapon still strapped to her waist. What living, breathing man wouldn’t want that? I just questioned my ability to work past the hurt and anger to be able to enjoy the dream.

  Reality was a nightmare at the moment. My girl had stabbed me in the back to protect herself and my son was… well, he was acting like my son. Wasn’t that a bit of an eye opener? Because, if anyone had tried to give my mom the ‘what for’ kind of talkin’ to that I’d given Belle yesterday, I would have done exactly what Seth had done. Defended her. Protected my family. It just sucked giant ass donkey balls that I was the one Seth was having to defend her from.

  That also left my mixed feelings for Belle. Underneath the swirling emotions of rage I had towards her for keeping this monumental secret from me, I was shocked to find that I also had an overwhelming sense of relief. Belle could never be rid of me now. Not completely, at least. I would always be a part of her life because I would be a part of Seth’s life.

  If I cou
ld get past my anger and hurt, maybe this could be the thing that helped bring us back together? Did I really still want Belle after all of this, though? Could I trust her now? The heart that hurt so badly in my chest told me that I’d always want Belle. It was my mind that was enraged to the point of being unforgiving for her lie; to punish her somehow. Whispering things like, maybe I should take Seth from her and see how she liked being deprived of our son like she had deprived me of him.

  So was this what the rest of my life was going to be like? Secretly wishing for some kind of revenge? Holding onto the negativity and pain that kept my own flesh and blood at arm’s length because my boy constantly felt the need to protect the parental figure he knew against the one he didn’t? New determination filled me. I refused to live a life where I was constantly wondering ‘what ifs.’ Jaxon was right. Opportunity had knocked on my door and hand-delivered a second chance. I’d be dumber than a box of rocks if I threw that away. I’d just have to figure out the best way to go about fixing things.

  The word strained was a pale definition of what was left of Belle’s and my relationship. There were ghosts of emotions left from years ago and I’d have to find ways to breathe life back into them. It was time to re-group and plan an attack. Only this attack wouldn’t involve movements of troops onto enemy territory or weapons meant to inflict injury or death. No, I’d be utilizing the element of surprise to keep Belle on her toes and slipping in some sensual movements. Little touches to make her dizzy with sensation until I could overwhelm her defenses and maneuver her where I wanted her.

  I ignored the small bead of sweat that glided from the hairline of my forehead and down over the side of my face. Keeping my eye glued to the rifle’s scope—staying on the ready for visual of our targets—I had begun making plans in my head about what to do next when it came to Belle.

  First, a bed. It was a great way to relieve some of our frustrations and anger while reconnecting with each other. Then, the alter; tying her to me in the most fundamental of ways, so that it would be damn near impossible for her to leave. Finally, pack her and Seth up and take them home to where headquarters was located in Virginia.

  All I had to do was find a way to get over the sting of betrayal.

  ***

  The next day…

  Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.

  Good, God. Lifting my head, I glared at the hotel room door where someone was now knocking, disturbing my much needed sleep. If someone on the team wasn’t bleeding to death on my doorstep I was going to shoot them myself. I’d only fallen into bed at seven o’clock this morning after a night of a whole lot of nothing happening at that stupid bar. I was ready to blow the damn building sky high just so I didn’t have to look at it anymore.

  Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.

  “Hold on a damn minute!”

  Rolling off the bed I caught the red numbers on the clock that said it was eleven in the morning. Four hours of sleep sucked, but it was better than nothing. I’d dealt with a lot worse in the Army, especially while deployed in Afghanistan before taking that bullet to the knee. A knee that was giving off a familiar throb at the moment, which meant I needed to spend some time today stretching it.

  Yawning, I shuffled to the door, one hand scratching my chest while the other adjusted my junk in my shorts. Looking down to make sure they weren’t hanging indecently low and, finding them at a respectable hang off the hips, I opened the door, blinding myself with sunshine.

  Blinking my eyes to adjust to the sudden light change, I froze in shock when I saw who was standing there in front of me. Seth and Belle.

  Giving a subtle scan of Belle, I noticed that she looked like shit. Not that I’d be stupid enough to voice that opinion, but it was no less than the truth. I guess I wasn’t the only one who’d taken the little meet-and-greet two days ago badly. There were dark circles under her eyes like she hadn’t slept at all and she looked a little pale, too. The rest of her looked like business as usual. She was wearing khaki pants with a navy blue polo shirt that had the ATF emblem embroidered on the left side of her chest and her service weapon was strapped to her waist. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she had minimal make-up on. She looked ready for a day at the office, so what was she doing here?

  When she spoke her voice was low and hesitant. “I’m sorry if we woke you up. I forgot that you were supposed to work a shift last night. Seth wanted to come by and apologize for the other day.”

  Seth cut his eyes at his mother. “I’m not apologizing. I’m willing to explain and talk. Not apologize.”

  Belle’s face turned red in embarrassment before she stuttered, “We can come back if you’d like to go back to sleep, Bobby.”

  Stepping back and pulling the door open, I waved them inside. “Don’t worry about it. I’d rather see you two than sleep anyways.”

  Seth’s eyes widened in surprise at my statement. I guess my son didn’t expect me to be all too happy to see him. Hopefully, soon he’d realize I was fucking ecstatic about the idea of him in my life, just devastated that I’d missed so much of it already. Belle gave Seth a little push that had them both moving past me and through the door. They sat down at the small, two-seater table in the corner while I opened the curtains to the room’s only window and let in some light so we could see each other. Since there was no room for me at the table, I sat on the end of the bed, facing them with my arms resting on my knees. I looked from Belle to Seth to find him analyzing the scars on my knee.

  Lifting his chin in my direction he asked, “What happened?”

  “I took a bullet to the knee in Afghanistan four years ago. The scars you see are from the surgery to remove the bullet and repair the damage.”

  “Does it still hurt?”

  Shrugging my shoulders, I answered, “Walking through metal detectors in an airport can be a pain in the ass, besides that, I’m fine. Some days it’s sore, but I recovered pretty well. If the weather is really bad or if I move it the wrong way it’ll ache, but that’s not so bad. So what did you want to talk about, son?”

  His brows furrowed. “I’m not sorry for what I said to you the day before yesterday. I don’t care if Mom thinks I should apologize or not, I was being honest, and honesty is everything.” Turning to look at Belle he added, “You’re the one that taught me that.”

  A snort slipped free before I could stop it and it earned a glare from my son and caused Belle to turn two shades lighter than her already pale color and she ducked her head. Holding my hands up in the surrender pose, I apologized, “I’m sorry. You have to admit that if that’s what she taught you, it’s kind of ironic. That’s not what we should concentrate on, though. I think we should try and move on with the future more than dwell on what’s already happened. So let’s get back to why you’re here.”

  Crossing his arms over his chest, Seth continued to glare. “I told you how I felt and I meant it. I want a relationship with you, but only if you admit that you’re just as much at fault as Mom is.” Holding his hand up in the air, he started holding his fingers up one by one as he ticked off his points on them. “She didn’t get pregnant by herself, for one. For two, she had nowhere to go that was safe so there was no point in her staying there in Georgia. Number three, you broke a promise. That’s Mom’s biggest rule, you keep your promises no matter what. Like I told you, I’ve heard her and Aunt Teagan talking and they said you’d promised to come back and get her. That you were going to get married and move away. Then you left her behind and sent her that letter, so you broke your promise. You were wrong, too.”

  Indignation burned in my chest. I wanted to defend myself, but I couldn’t. Not if things were going to start moving forward for us. “You’re right; I’m to blame for this, too.”

  Belle started to protest, but Seth cut her off, “No, Mom, I don’t care what you say. It’s not all your fault, it was his fault, too, and I’m tired of you always blaming yourself.”

  Shocked silly was such an odd phrase, but in this moment, that
’s exactly what I was. I hadn’t expected her to try and take all the blame when it came to our son. I’d thought she would cry her tears and spin her tale to make Seth believe that she’d done it all for the best, but it was my fault for leaving them behind. I’d never thought she’d try and take all the blame on herself. It made me feel like the douchebag of the year to think the worst of her, but thinking the worst was something altogether so easy to do when I felt like I couldn’t trust her anymore. Maybe things were going to be a bit harder for me than I’d thought—getting over the betrayal she’d dealt me—if I was automatically assuming the worst of her now.

  Seth kept talking, but now it was to me. “So where do we go from here, Dad?” My gaze swung back to his and I felt my eyes water up. He took one look at the tear that was stuck on my bottom lash and started to fidget. “It’s okay to call you Dad, right?”

  Man, that question was a double edged sword. On one hand, it stung that my own kid had even felt the need to ask me if it was okay to call me Dad. On the other hand, hearing him call me that made it my new favorite word in the world. Standing up swiftly and closing the space between us, I grabbed him by his upper arm and hauled him up to me. Closing my arms around his shoulders, I hugged him fiercely, absently noting that the first time I’d touched my own kid was when his head already cleared my shoulder, instead of as a tiny body lying in my arms. How many instances would I both rejoice and then despair because they reminded me of all that’d I’d missed with him?

  Pushing the pain away again, I choked out, “You can call me whatever you want, but Dad sounds fucking awesome because I’ll be calling you Son.”

  He barked a small laugh. “Another parent that cusses. Are you going to tell me that I can’t say those words, too?”