Stay

by A. L. Jackson

  “I…” That one word was a fumble of my own doubts and reservations. In myself. In this mysterious man that elicited something I didn’t want him to. In all the choices I’d made up to this point in my life and the ones I wanted to make for my future.

  They spun around me like an approaching storm.

  She swallowed hard, her attention darting to the wall before she looked back at me. “I know you’re scared of stepping out of your bubble. Of moving on. But it’s time. You’ve lost so much through these years, and I know it feels like more than you can bear.”

  “Em—” I pleaded.

  She cut me off with a sharp shake of her head. “What makes it even worse is Bates trying to weasel his way back into your life after everything he did. But it’s been two years, Will. Two years of you barely getting by after he betrayed you. Two years of you barely breaking the surface. You keep on this way and you’re gonna drown.”

  I looked to my feet as I absorbed the words she said.

  She moved toward the back-office. She paused in the doorway, hesitating, before she looked back at me. “And do you honestly think for one second you’re not qualified for that job? All those interior design classes you took? Those dreams you had? You were so close to finishing, Will. Bates somehow manipulated you into thinking it wasn’t important. That you weren’t good enough. Are you gonna let all the bullshit lies he fed you matter? Because not a word he’s ever said to you matters unless you let them.”

  A rush of air left my lungs as she disappeared into the back, and I pressed my hands to the counter, trying to get my senses. To find a solution. All the lessons my mama ever taught me floated around me, just out of reach.

  Chase your dreams.

  Loneliness swamped me, and without another thought, I grabbed my purse and flew out the door.

  “Hi, Mama,” I murmured quietly as I brushed back a lifeless curl of gray hair from her forehead. I pressed a lingering kiss there. Breathed her in. Filled my lungs as full as they would go with the familiar scent of baby powder and lilacs and a vestige of this awful place.

  She flinched and blinked up at me in confusion as I interrupted her journey to whatever faraway time and place she’d gone.

  I sat back, giving her space, while my eyes traced the portrait in front of me. A portrait drawn in a patchwork of wrinkles and lines, her weathered face the story of an age and laughter and years of hard work.

  She’d always been my rock. My firm foundation. My definition of strength. Maybe that’s why seeing her body and mind taken hostage by her disease hurt that much worse. The slow deterioration that had ultimately left her confined to this bed.

  Her glassy, brown eyes lit up in her own recognition, the words barely formed on her dried lips. “Willow? Is that you, sweet one?”

  Pain wrenched through me like a blade, and I smiled a sad smile, willing my tears away as I brushed my fingertips tenderly down her cheek. “Of course it’s me.”

  One side of her mouth tweaked, before her eyes grew distant, and she got lost in her mind.

  I hated seeing her this way.

  Each day whittled away by the diagnosis she’d gotten right after my sister was born. Growing up, I’d always known my mama had multiple sclerosis. It was a common phrase in our home, something my sister and I fearfully whispered to each other in those times when she’d hug us and her eyes would seem so sad when she’d whisper, “It’s just a bad day. It’ll pass.”

  She always got better.

  Until the day she didn’t.

  Stress makes it worse.

  That’s what the doctor had said.

  It sure didn’t help things when my daddy had up and left us when those “bad days” came closer and closer together.

  After we lost Summer? My mama had spiraled fast and she’d never gotten out of bed again.

  End stage.

  That’s what they called it.

  Maybe I’d been a foolish child, but I hadn’t prepared myself for this—for this ultimate outcome—when her arms and legs would no longer cooperate. When the painful spasticity would set in and her muscles would lock in spasms that would never let her go.

  On top of that, I’d had to sit and watch helplessly as her mind also gave, her lucency coming and going with the disease and the medicines they gave her to make her comfortable.

  I gently shifted her arm where her fist was pressed up too tight to her chin, my voice just as gentle. “How are you feeling today, Mama?”

  I got no response, just her distant eyes. Tears gathered in mine, and I pulled the chair up close next to her, my words quiet as I confided in the one person who had always understood me.

  “The store’s been in trouble, Mama.” I bit my lip, glanced away, before I turned back to her. “I didn’t mean to let it happen. I’m so sorry. I never meant to be careless with your dream.”

  Her dream that had become my own.

  I brushed my fingers through her hair. “Sometimes love gets in the way, doesn’t it?”

  She’d always taught me love was the most important of all the things we’d ever be given in our lives. I just didn’t know how to reconcile the two, choosing to love and what it’d cost me in the end.

  My throat felt scratchy when I continued, “But I have a chance to make it right. Save the store. I want to, Mama, I want to so bad, but I’m terrified I’m going to turn around and mess everything up again.”

  Change was always a risk, and after Bates, I’d spent the last two years making sure to encounter the fewest risks possible, isolating myself from the world that seemed intent to gobble me up until there wasn’t anything left. Funny how I still stood to lose it all.

  “What do you think, Mama? Is it worth the risk?”

  I didn’t expect a response, but her glassy eyes were on me, soft and filled with the love and belief she’d always had in me. “When is the answer to that ever anything other than chase your dreams. Always, Willow. Always.”

  A tear slipped down my cheek, and her smile trembled as she struggled to stay focused on me, but her eyes began to flutter as she started to fade away.

  I felt desperate to hold on to her for one moment more.

  I wrapped my hand around her tightened fist, squeezed. Mama…you’re the only one I have left. Don’t leave me. I need you so much.

  My silent plea was left unheard as her raspy, labored breaths slowed with her sleep.

  I gasped around the grief that crashed through my body and tried to subdue my cries, feeling lonelier than I had ever before.

  Piece by piece.

  Heart by heart.

  Why did everyone important to me get ripped away?

  It’s crazy when the last thing you want is to be alone, yet you hide away so there’s no chance of ever having someone else stolen from you.

  My sister’s face whirled behind my eyes. So vibrant. So full of life.

  Gone.

  But my mama…

  I looked down at her weathered face.

  My mama had always taught me if something was important enough, you never gave up or let go. I stood up and pressed a kiss to her forehead. I whispered against her skin, “Always.”

  seven

  Ash

  “Assholes are still out there, man.” Lyrik raked a tattooed hand through the crop of his pitch-black hair.

  “Yeah.”

  “So, what are we gonna do about that?”

  “Not sure there’s anything to do…don’t even have a name to go on.”

  Just five fucking faces taunting me in the recesses of my mind and a litany of scars to show for them.

  “And what happens if you run into them again?”

  I cracked a wry grin. “Hope to God you’re with me.”

  “Pssh…you think you need me to back your ass up? Big burly fucker like you? I’m disappointed you couldn’t handle them. That shit’s embarrassing.” His mouth twisted with the razzing I totally deserved, considering I was normally the one meting it out.

  “Sometimes a man just
has to admit when he’s outnumbered.”

  He eyed me with those dark eyes, his favorite guitar settled across his lap. His fingers pressed down, and he strummed a single chord, flashing his upper knuckles that read Sing My Soul. Though now his left lower knuckles read Blue and the right Adia since the guy had finally found something real to sing for.

  “You sure you don’t want to try to press the police to track them down? You weren’t exactly helpful when they questioned you.”

  I let my fingers glide along the strings of my bass, plucking out a few notes. “Nah, man, you know that’s not how we take care of shit.”

  He shook his head. “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.”

  “Before I step through your door, I need you to understand I’m not qualified to do what you’re asking me to do.”

  Energy pulsed between us.

  A fucking live wire.

  All weekend, I’d been questioning if I’d imagined it. Would be no surprise if the bash to my head had made me a little bit insane. But I was thinking now it just might be this girl who was the culprit.

  So maybe I’d spent the last three days wondering if she’d actually show.

  Wondering what that would mean.

  Second-guessing why I insisted she’d come here in the first place.

  God knew I could have cut her a check and let her off the hook.

  So what if it was relief I felt when I found her standing in my doorway, wringing her dainty hands, a bag slung over her shoulder? She wore a pair of fitted jeans and a super thin, loose sweater that slinked over her in all the right ways, all mahogany waves and chocolate eyes and sweet sunshine.

  I wanted to put my mouth on her and take a good long drink.

  “Says who?” I demanded low.

  She shook her head with a flustered huff. “Says the fact I have no degree and not a whole lot of training. I’ve never even attempted to tackle a job of this size before.”

  I gave a harsh shake of my head. “Says the girl who has a store full of kickass furniture she refurbished herself. Wouldn’t ask you inside if I didn’t have the confidence you would give me exactly what I’m lookin’ for.”

  I lifted my arms out to the sides, gesturing to the massive house towering around us. “This here’s my baby, darlin’. Second I passed her by, she called out to me, and I knew I had to have her. Been fixing her up ever since.”

  My entire crew had told me I was crazy when I’d laid down cash for the run-down mansion the same day I’d stumbled on it.

  Finding the sprawling plantation had felt like I’d tripped into another age.

  A time that was simpler.

  Figured it’d be my refuge. Home away from the glitter and glam of Los Angeles. My sanctuary away from that unending blur of roads and stages and shows when we were on tour.

  Here in Savannah, where it was hotter than Hades and the limelight had been dimmed. Where there weren’t cameras shoved in my face every time I stepped out a door and sleep came a little earlier than the all-night affairs full of women and booze and the sun breaking the horizon before exhaustion finally set in.

  Hell, even I needed a breather from the crazy lifestyle I lived every once in a while.

  “I’m not saying I don’t believe in my work, Mr. Evans. I just need you to tell me you understand I haven’t taken on something of this magnitude before. You’re paying me a lot of money, and it feels a whole lot like you’re doing it out of obligation rather than because of my ability.”

  I lifted a single shoulder, figuring honesty was my best bet. “Maybe. But what I do know is after you gave me back everything, I have something I can offer you, so please don’t take that from me. Besides, all that stuff in your store? It blew my mind. You’re crazy talented, and I know you know it, too.”

  A shy smile tremored around her delicious mouth, and she looked at the wooden planks of the porch. “You’re ridiculous.”

  Laughter rolled up my throat. “I’ve been called far worse things, darlin’.”

  Those eyes gleamed when they peeked up at me. “Why don’t I doubt that?”

  “I’m guessing because you’re a smart girl.” I shot her a wink, loving the ease between us that seemed to tumble in with it.

  I widened the door. “You should come in.”

  Sucking in a breath, she stepped inside. Her gaze bounced all over the foyer. Her eyes traced the grand staircase that curved as it crawled its way to the second floor and bounced over the ceilings that were recessed and edged in thick crown molding.

  The place was completely kickass, if I said so myself.

  Her voice filled with awe. “Wow. This is incredible. This place could be in a magazine.”

  “You like it?”

  She slanted me a wry smile. “Only a liar would say they didn’t. Probably someone who was jealous and wished they were you, rock star.”

  She mouthed the last as if she were offering up a deep, dark, dirty secret. Letting me know she knew exactly who I was when it’d been clear as day when I’d stepped in her store three days ago she didn’t have a clue.

  I took a step in her direction then another.

  That electricity lit up between us.

  She backed into the wall.

  “Well, I’m glad to hear you’re no liar, country girl.” I leaned in real close to those red, plush lips as I said it.

  What was I doing? This was so not my gig. Stepping into dangerous terrain like this. I needed to get back to easy. Step away from this girl, who was so obviously sweet.

  Modestly confident.

  Timidly strong.

  Good.

  Boys like me wrecked girls like her, because we never stayed.

  But I couldn’t help my eyes from tracing her stunning face. Couldn’t keep my fingers from twitching with want.

  Just a little taste.

  She cleared her throat, breaking the intensity. I forced myself to take a step back.

  “Shall we head upstairs?” she asked.

  “Come now, darlin’, do you really need to ask? You know that would be my absolute pleasure.” I said it with all the mischief I could muster, hoping to cover all the seriousness riding out beneath it.

  “Boundaries, Mr. Evans.” She was already moving to the staircase as she spoke. “If we’re going to work together, you’re going to need to figure out what they mean.” She hooked a thumb over her shoulder, her words slanting into that lust-inducing Southern drawl. “I saw a dictionary in one of those bookshelves back there in the sitting room. You might want to use it.”

  I started up the stairs behind her. “I understand the word just fine, darlin’. I just think your boundaries might run a little high and wide. Doesn’t leave you a whole lot of wiggle room, now does it?”

  “Oh my word…you are…” She cast a smile over her shoulder, chocolate eyes widening with the tease. “Ridiculous.”

  I laughed.

  Hard.

  This girl.

  There was just something about her.

  Something different from the women I met in seedy clubs and dank bars. So different than the one’s hanging out after a show, waiting for that coveted invite backstage. At the ready to give it up. Carnal greed.

  Easy.

  I guided her left at the top of the stairway. Her contemplation was almost disbelieving as she quickly examined the area. “How big is this place?”

  “Big. Eight bedrooms to be exact. Just shy of six thousand square feet.”

  I’d always been drawn to excess and extravagance. To taking more than I needed.

  Possessions.

  Women.

  The high was what I longed for.

  Whether it was the literal shit I used to pump myself full of before death and a loss so brutal proved I couldn’t continue on that path or the insane high I got from being on a stage.

  Wild.

  Reckless.

  More.

  That was just me. I’d accepted that fact a long damned time ago.

  “Here we are.
” I stepped around her and pushed the double doors open wide.

  She seemed cautious as she stepped into the enormous room that took up almost one whole side of the upstairs. The hard wood floors were unpolished and worn. My huge bed sat like an island in the middle of it, a mess of pillows and rumpled sheets and tangled comforter.

  I scratched at the back of my head. “Like I said, this is the one room I haven’t had anyone touch. It’s just as bad as the day I moved in, except for the layer of dirt I had scrubbed away.”

  “It’s gorgeous,” she whispered as she spun in a slow circle, taking in the aura of the room. Like she were allowing the old walls to speak to her.

  Her striking face held an expression that was serene and soft and awed.

  So goddamned intriguing.

  Her roaming gaze traveled to the dramatic view out back. Sometimes it still even got to me. The sweep of windows overlooked the sprawling backyard, out across the expanse of lawn, all the way to the small creek that weaved along the edge of the thicket of trees that grew up like a living wall to enclose the property.

  She dug a notebook from her bag, settled it in the crook of her right elbow, and grabbed a pencil. Her left hand began to fly furiously across a sheet as she took in her surroundings.

  Absorbed. Almost enchanted.

  “Beautiful,” she mumbled, entirely to herself. The flow of her hand and the inspiration pouring from it seemed to whip up her own energy, turning it into something fierce and powerful that glowed in the thickened air.

  I just watched.

  Finally, she jerked her head up. Thought maybe she’d just remembered I was still standing there. “There’s so much to work with here. It’s…stunning. These floors and the crown molding. The space in general. But what I want to know is what you want this room to say about you? What do you want to see when you come in here at night and what do you want to feel when you wake in the morning?”

  Could feel the smirk slide to my mouth.

  “Wouldn’t mind some sexy pics of you on the walls. Big ones.”

  Problem was I wasn’t sure if it was truth or tease.