by Brook Greene
He removes his hand and drags it through his hair, letting out a long whistle. “Listen, before you open that, I wanna warn you. I’m ready to kill the motherfucker, so be prepared.” He flexes his hand so tight, it turns his knuckles white. I stand and cross over to the whiskey again, pouring two this time. With the way Eno’s acting, I’ll need it. Setting back down into the chair, I flip the cover open and grit my teeth. There are numerous photos of Tessa, her back with bruises, her arms covered in marks, her beautiful face marred with cuts. But it’s the pictures of the rings around her throat that stops me. I swig all the whiskey back, then slam the glass down on my desk. It’s always bruises, but never any broken bones, which in some sort of fucked up way, I find relieving.
A low growl escapes my throat as I continue to flip through photo after photo of the damage the man has done to her over the years. The last photo stops me, and I look up at Eno. “This him?”
Eno nods. I stand, no longer able to contain the fury coursing through my body. “I’ve seen him before,” I sneer as I begin to pace behind my desk. “The morning I followed Tessa to work, her first day. He was the motherfucker watching us from across the damn street.” I shove my fingers into my hair, tugging it hard. “Fuck!” I turn back to look past Eno to Jax. With him around, I was going to have to start watching my vulgar outbursts. “Do we know where he’s at yet?”
Eno clears his throat. “Not at the moment, but Beeker is still sitting on his house,” he informs me. “There’s something else too.” He sits up in his chair and flipping through a few more papers, stopping on what looks like legal documents. He taps with his finger, making the hard wood of my desk echo. “The reason her divorce isn’t going through is because his dad plays golf with her lawyer.”
I lean over, reading the papers. “So it’s not just him stalling, her fucking lawyer is in on it too?” I ask, already knowing the answer. Sitting, I finish going through all the papers in the folder Eno had put together for me. It was something I could take care of myself, and I planned on doing just that.
“His father’s political image would be tarnished if it came out his son was a wife beater,” I murmur with a plan forming in my head.
“Very much so,” Eno replies with an evil glint in his eye, knowing what I’m planning. “And brother, I think you’re just the man for the job.” He smiles, taking the last drink of his whiskey. I cross the room, my head spinning with a plan, to retrieve the bottle of whiskey to bring back to the desk.
I pour us both full again and sit with a man I consider closer to me than my own flesh and blood. Eno and I have been through a lot of shit together, and there seems to be just a bit more we will have to wade through.
“So, how’s she with…” He tilts his head in the direction of the small boy rolling around on the floor at his feet. “All this?”
“Surprisingly, she’s okay.” I sit back in my chair, rubbing my temples, trying to stave off the headache threatening to blast my head at the moment. “She’s actually really good with him, what little they’ve been around each other. He, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to know a stranger. A side effect, I guess, from being around his mother.”
“Oh yeah, she a threat?” Eno asks.
“No, not anymore,” I sigh, thinking back to how she’d looked. At one time, she had been stunning, but not now.
“The cops released Tessa’s house today. I went by and everything in it is a complete loss.” He finishes off his drink. “What do you want to do about that?”
I lower my head into my hands. I haven’t even thought about her house and the carnage that asshole left behind. “A bit of advice, and take it from me, it’s probably best if you don’t take her back before it’s cleaned out. But you know that already, ’cause you were there with me and Jo,” he says with a pained look in his eyes. I remember when we’d taken Josie back to her apartment. It had been completely tossed, and the devastation she had felt was horrible.
“I know, but won’t it be worse if she doesn’t see what the hell he did?” I ask, going over a hundred different scenarios of how to handle this in my mind.
“Brother, think about it, the way she’s handling this whole fucked up situation. I’m pretty sure she’s well aware what he’s capable of.”
I look at him, nodding. “Thank you.”
“The girls are waiting for you to give them the green light to see her.”
“They want to see her?” I ask, a little taken aback.
“You brought her to Sunday lunch. Shit like that isn’t lost on the females. Of course they want to know when they can intervene. They like her, Matt. She’s one of us, with her fucked up life and all. She fits right in.” Eno stands, setting his empty glass on my desk. “I need to go.” He turns for the door, and I stand to follow him, waiting for Jax to catch up with me. Saying our goodbyes, I lock the door and set the alarm again.
I turn to Jax, holding my arms out to my sides. “What now, little man?” I ask him. He smiles at me and runs towards me, head butting my legs, giggling the whole time. Leaning down, I pick him up and toss him into the air. When I catch him, his laughter fills the air.
“Again, Daddy,” he says through his giggles.
~~~~~~
Tessa
I roll to the side. The room I’m in is dark, but still surrounded with his smell. I smile, stretching my arms over my head as I sit up, feeling well-rested and my pain easing. I place my feet on the floor, wriggling my toes in the plush carpet.
I use the restroom and head downstairs. It’s quiet, and I wonder if Matthew has left with Jackson. But as I reach the landing, the soft sound of blues music filters through the dark house. I follow it down a short hall, off to the left of the kitchen. Faint light spills out of a double doored room at the end. Just outside the doors, I listen to the wonderful music, the soothing sounds of the deep guitar and the soulful tone of the singer’s voice.
No longer able to curb my curiosity, I stick my head inside the door to find Matthew sitting behind a large wooden desk, looking down at a bunch of papers laid out in front of him.
I watch his strong jaw tick. His hair is messy, like he’s been running his fingers through it. He reaches for a glass of amber liquid, not looking up from whatever he’s reading. He’s gorgeous, in just his tee and shorts. He looks like he fell off the cover of a GQ magazine.
The room is a large study, the walls lined with full bookshelves. The furniture is dark leather and masculine, and a large area rug lays in the center of the room, covering the distressed wood floor.
“Hey you,” I call out, making his head jerk up. A warm smile graces his lips when he sees me.
“Hey you,” he replies as he closes the folder on the papers he’d been reading. His eyes roam over me, taking me in from head to toe, and I feel a shiver run up my spine. His eyes devour me as he stands and stalks over to me, like a predator after his prey.
He takes me into his arms and I melt into him, laying my head on his hard chest. “You look good in my tee and boxers, but you looked damn fine sleeping in my bed.” His words are just as warm as his arms. He wraps me in the security of them, and I snuggle into him.
The house is quiet, no sound of little feet or confusing jabber. “Jackson?” I ask into his chest.
“Bed. I put him down about an hour ago.”
“What time is it?” I ask, a little confused.
“Around ten,” he replies through a yawn. “I was going to head up to you in about five.” He rubs circles on my back with his big hand. “You interested?” He asks me before giving me a kiss on the top of my head. I’m more than interested. It seems even though I’ve spent most of the day in bed, sleeping, I find I’m still exhausted. I lean into him, nodding my agreement.
~~~~~~
I let Matthew lead me to the kitchen and watch as he takes a glass down from the distressed wooden cabinet beside the sink, filling it with water. Then we head up to bed, only pausing for him to look in on a soundly sleeping Jackson.
W
e walk into his room and he drops my hand, going to what I assume is his side of the bed, taking off his tee and shorts as he moves. My eyes widen as he drops his shorts to the floor because he has nothing on under them. I feel my face flush, but I don’t look away from his toned, fine ass. It’s not like I haven’t seen it before, but I just wasn’t expecting to get the awesome show tonight. He turns and catches me. I quickly avert my eyes from him and hear him laugh.
“Don’t get shy on me now, Tessa.” There’s humor in his tone as he peels his side of the covers down and climbs into the bed.
I roll my eyes, kicking myself for my reaction. “I’m not,” I say as I join him in the bed. Sliding in beside him, I still feel the burn of my embarrassment. He’s had his face between my legs for crying out loud. He lays uncovered and gloriously naked beside me.
“Are you going to sleep naked?” I ask when I’m finally able to meet his eyes. They’re alight with humor.
“Yeah, it’s not like I haven’t done it before. What’s gotten into you?” He says, leaning over taking my hand in his.
“What if you have to get up and go to Jackson for some reason?” I watch as he moves my hand closer to his crotch, but the mention of his son stops his movements, and for a second I’m relieved.
He chuckles. “Pretty sure we have the same equipment, babe.” He starts the slow movement of my hand on his body again, resting it on his thigh, almost over the angry scar.
“I’m completely sure it isn’t that big,” I laugh, using my free hand to point at his growing erection.
He gives me a satisfied smile. “Oh, baby, how you verbally stroke my ego makes me want you to orally caress it.” He gives me a devilish grin, thrusting his hips up. I jerk my hand back with his movements, not sure why. “But I can jerk on my shorts fast if he needs me.”
Wanting a change in the subject, I trace the scar on his thigh with my finger. The edges are puckered, and a deep shade of red indicates that it’s a new wound. “What happened?”
He relaxes back into his pillow and covers my hand with his, stopping me and taking his grip to pull me to him. I nestle down into the crease of his arm, taking him in, from his warm body against mine to his clean smell. The security I feel where I am right now is something I haven’t felt since I was a child, living with my parents, and before asshole had come into my life.
“I was shot,” he reveals into the silence that had fallen between us.
I sit straight up in the bed, unable to control my shock at his nonchalant reply. “Shot? Like, with a gun?” The words come out before I can stop them, and yes, they sound way more stupid being said than they did in my head.
“No, babe, with a crossbow. Daryl Dixon stepped out from the bushes in my front yard and thought I was a walker. Yes, a gun,” he says jokingly, poking my side with his finger.
“What the hell were you doing to get shot?” I ask, shocked at his answer. I know he has to do club business, but what exactly does that include to put him in the crosshairs to get shot?
“Stuff.” Is all he says before he takes me under my arms and hauls me into him. He reaches for the lamp on the bedside table and turns it off, but I’m not ready to end this conversation. He lays back, holding me firmly in his arms.
I try to pull away from his hold, but its firm, and I can’t get free. “What kind of stuff?” I ask, giving up the fight against him.
“Stuff I can’t tell you about.” He settles back into his pillow.
“But you can’t tell me why you were shot?” I’m getting more and more confused by this man with each passing moment of this conversation.
“Do you want me to lie to you?” I get free enough to be able to push up on my elbow to look down at him. The silver light of the full moon streams through the window to his right, lighting his face enough to see. His eyes are closed, and his features are relaxed.
“No, but…” I stop, not sure what I want. I know he’s told me there are things in his life he can’t explain to me, but I’d put two and two together. He’d left on club business and came back with a son. And the fact he’d gone alone, without any of his brothers from the club, makes me wonder if he’s already lied to me. “The same kind of stuff that got Hollis shot?” I ask, pressing my lips together, waiting for him to tell he can’t say once more.
“No,” he replies flatly. Closing his eyes, he’s letting me know the conversations is over.
I lay back down in his arms with doubts and questions, my mind full from the events of the past week, the good and the bad. Matthew’s been the one who’s brought all the good—our first dinner, the first time we’d kissed, and the first time I’d given myself over to him. I can’t fault him for omitting things, he told me he would have to. The thing I’m going to have to decide on is if being with him is more important to me than knowing what he’s doing every time he leaves.
No longer able to think in circles from fear of giving myself a monstrous headache, I snuggle down into him and fall fast asleep in the arms of the man I’m falling for at a rapid rate.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Tessa
I wake to the sun warming my face, but I’m in an empty bed. I roll and stretch, feeling the soreness of the beat down I’d taken more today than I had the past two days. Another bath to soak is in my future, but right now, I need coffee and lots of it. Maybe an ibuprofen or two as well.
I notice that Jackson’s door is open, and the sound of a TV drifts up the steps to me. I take the last step, looking from left to right, wondering where they are. “Matthew, you in here?” I call out as I round the corner into the kitchen. I don’t find anybody, but I spot a coffee mug sitting beside a full pot of coffee.
With a full mug, I cross back into the living room and see some kind of cartoon playing on the screen. I stumble over the toys in the middle of the floor, trying not to ungracefully fall flat on my face.
The sounds of a child’s giggles drift in from the open door leading to the back porch. “No, now watch, Jax. Be careful not to get it all over yourself.” I hear Matthew’s loving father voice, along with the giggles.
I step just to the side of the open door to see the two standing on the edge of the porch, their shorts around their ankles, and a stream of pee coming from Matthew as Jackson tries his best to imitate his father. Matthew finishes, his arms flexing as he gives himself a few shakes before tucking himself back into his shorts. I stand in awe, watching them piss off the back porch. Matthew drops down on his haunches to help his son.
Jacksons tiny little rear pinches as he pushes himself out so he doesn’t get any on him. Matthew smiles down at him with such love in his eyes, my heart clenches and my belly begins to ache with want. “That’s it. See, told you.” He helps Jackson fix himself in his shorts before they both turn to me. Matthew stops, but Jackson runs to me, wrapping his arms around one of my legs. He looks up at me, smiling, and I rub the soft hair on his head.
Matthew clears his throat and I look back up to him, watching as he rubs the top of his head, shifting from one foot to the other, clearly uncomfortable with the situation. “Potty training. I read somewhere that it’s easier to train boys when they have an example to work with.” He smiles and shrugs his shoulder.
Jackson points at himself. “I’m a big boy, Essa,” he proclaims proudly.
“Yes, you are, Jackson.” I smile down at the little boy still wrapped around my leg who looks so much like the uncertain man standing in front of me right now. I look back up to Matthew and smile. “I’ve not read that, but Matthew, it’s up to you how you potty train your son.”
He walks up and stops right in front of me, tying the drawstring of his shorts. “It’s just easier. He doesn’t get it all over the place or him this way.”
~~~~~~
Matty
She looks down at Jackson who’s removed himself from her and fallen on the floor, playing with his dump trucks. “What do you do at night?” she asks me.
“Pullups.” She looks at me questioningly. “They�
��re kinda like diapers, but underwear too, so if he has an accident his bed doesn’t get wet.” I realize I know more than most men do about their kids, and potty training.
“You’ve got this all figured out.”
I shrug. “I read a lot, and my mother helped me out. She has two boys.” I smile at her. “She’s the one who suggested I teach him off the back deck.”
“Your mother?” she asks, taking a small sip of her coffee. I watch her lips, becoming momentarily distracted by them. It’s been three days since I’d last been inside this woman, and that is four and half days too many. But right now is not the greatest of times to be thinking of this because I’m not sure where she’s at with the whole situation. Her body is sore and bruised, and I’m sure she’s in more pain than she’ll ever let on to.
“Yeah. It’s not like I could call the Mayhem girls for help. I was trying to keep that part of my life separate,” I tell her. We both turn to see Jax playing contently, running his truck along the outside of the area rug covering the hard wood floors of the living room, stopping every once in a while to look at the TV.
“But now you can?” she asks, bending to roll a truck towards Jax, hitting him in the leg with it. He jumps and giggles, rolling it back to her. She rolls it back, then stands to look at me.
“Yes, he’s mine now, and she isn’t around to use that shit against me in the courts.” A knock at the door has me smiling. “Speaking of my mother.” I watch as her eyes go wide and her mouth falls open.
“She’s here?” I hadn’t told her on purpose. I didn’t want her freaking out about meeting my parents.
I take her hand. “Yeah, they’re bringing some clothes for Jax.” My mother had insisted that he have all new things, and had been at the mall the past two days buying my little man a whole new wardrobe. I’d warned her not to go too crazy because he grows like a weed and wouldn’t be in them for long, but I know it had fallen on deaf ears.
“They’re?” she asks again, her voice a little shaky.