Mugs of Love

by Norma Jeanne Karlsson

  Two trips out the back to our van and I’m ready to be done. Daryl says, “Let’s get the shit in the showroom.” He doesn’t wait for my response before walking out. I follow him and that’s when all hell breaks loose.

  Daryl has some guy at gunpoint. The guy looks innocent enough with a bat in his hands. I notice stairs at the back of the room that must lead to an apartment. Fuck.

  “Let’s go,” I order.

  “You made a deal with the wrong fuckin’ family,” Daryl seethes.

  I have no fucking clue what he’s talking about and I don’t get a chance to find out before he blows the guy’s head off.

  “What the fuck?!” I roar.

  I hear a woman scream upstairs and race in that direction. I follow the screams down a narrow hall, bursting into a small bathroom. There’s a young woman my age wailing on the floor and rocking a baby in her arms.

  “Is Nico dead?” she sobs.

  I stare wordlessly at her in response. My silence answers her question. I turn to leave, knowing I’ve got maybe a few minutes before cops are here.

  “Shoot me,” she demands hysterically. “I killed him. I killed him! They’re both gone. Shoot me!”

  I look back at the woman to see the baby completely limp.

  “Nico told me to keep him quiet. I killed him!” she screams again, making my ears throb. “Shoot me! I can’t live with this. Fuckin’ kill me! Please!”

  I’m standing motionless watching her fall to pieces when she grabs a straight razor from the counter and drags it across her wrists. She keeps dragging it across her flesh, begging me to help her. When she hears sirens, I see panic on her face. She pleads with me to help her. Not to let them find her alive so they can save her.

  I feel almost like a robot as I lift my gun and point it at her head. There’s nothing but relief as she looks down at the dead body cradled in her arms now covered in her blood.

  “Thank you,” she whispers and I pull the trigger.

  I stop speaking and look up at Emily. Tears are streaming down her cheeks as sobs wrack her small frame. Then she’s in my lap, clinging to my neck like a vice grip. I pull her as close to me as I can. This isn’t the reaction I was expecting. I thought I'd get a smack across the face and her telling me to never speak to her again.

  “They set you up,” she stutters and heaves out.

  “Yeah, they did. I took off after everything. Daryl had taken the van and split, leaving me with blood on my hands. I got out before the cops showed up. When I got to my place, I knew. I didn’t know the details for a while, but I knew they set me up. What they didn’t expect was Daryl getting pulled over and arrested. They also didn’t know Nico had set up cameras in the entire place.

  “Daryl turned me over within minutes of getting picked up. I had a good attorney, but he could only do so much for me. The story goes, Angelique heard Nico planning the grab with another gang while she was givin’ a lap dance. She told Daryl about it. Daryl wanted my spot at the top and decided it was a good way to get me out. Him fuckin’ Angelique was just a bonus.

  “The cameras caught everything with Tanya…the woman I killed. The prosecutors allowed me to plead out. That was the end of it.”

  I release a ragged breath and smooth Emily’s hair away from her face.

  “I’m so sorry, Garrett,” she says tenderly, cupping my face between her tiny hands. “You’re not a murderer. Never say that again. What you did…what they did to you…I’m just so sorry.”

  She presses a soft kiss to my lips before snuggling into my neck. I have no words. That’s the most I’ve spoken in almost a decade. My throat feels raw from overuse and clogged from the emotion bubbling within me.

  “She’s not the only person I’ve killed. I don’t regret anyone else’s life I’ve taken. They were scum worse than I was or willing to kill me if I didn’t kill them. I’m a murderer, Emily.”

  “What happens in battle doesn’t define the war,” she mutters into my skin, nuzzling in further. Accepting my truth as she does.

  Through the investigation, it was found that Nico and Tanya had been running their game in different cities for a few years. They would set up a gallery, take out a massive insurance policy and then they’d have someone steal the art they were holding.

  The cameras Nico set up were part of the insurance scam. They needed video evidence. Daryl and I would have gotten away with the job. Our faces were covered with masks and there were no plates on the van. It wasn’t just a job though. It was meant to be my demise.

  The cameras caught Nico and Tanya’s conversation when we broke in. The job they set up wasn’t supposed to happen until the next night. He got worried and forced her into the bathroom with the baby. When the baby started whimpering, he said she had to keep him quiet. Before he shut the bathroom, Tanya put her hand over the baby’s face. She looked terrified when Nico closed the door and blocked the view of the camera in the hallway.

  The baby died of asphyxiation. Tanya did enough damage that the coroner ruled she would have bled to death without immediate medical attention. My bullet ended her life though. It doesn’t matter that she was dying. I killed her. My stupidity killed three people. That’s the weight I’ll carry for the rest of my life.

  “Don’t be sorry for me,” I croak after a long while.

  “I am sorry for you. I’m sorry for Nico and Tanya too. And their baby…” she trails off, tracing the ink on my chest. “I’m not sorry for Daryl or Angelique though. What happened to her?”

  “Nothin’,” I grunt. “There was no evidence she had anything to do with the job. She’s still in Kansas City.”

  Emily pops her head up and I see that angry fire brewing in her golden green eyes.

  “That’s not fair,” she growls.

  “Life’s not fair, Sugar.”

  “She better hope she never sees me,” Emily threatens and for the first time since I’ve been with her, I believe that she might actually do some damage.

  “I’m not leaving you, Garrett. Nothing you told me just now makes me think I shouldn’t be with you. I don’t like that you lived a life of crime. I don’t like that you were set up and had to take someone’s life in maybe the most horrific of circumstances. But nothing you told me makes me think I’m not safe with you. Would you ever hurt me?”

  “Never.”

  “Will you keep me safe?”

  “Always.”

  “Are you done with your life of crime?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then I’m here. I get you, Garrett. I’m not going anywhere,” she says firmly and smashes her mouth against mine.

  She pours passion into my mouth along with moans. I fist her hair and tip her head to get better access as my tongue plunders. She tastes like sugar and mint, intoxicating my senses. I nip her plump bottom lip and dive back in, stealing her breath as she clings to my shoulders. I want nothing more than to bury myself in her pussy and stay there all night, but I can’t. Not after what I just told her.

  I slow the kiss and she whines when I pull my mouth from hers.

  “I just wanna hold you tonight. That was a lot for us,” I growl not in a cruel way, in my typical speech.

  “Okay, but only if you promise you’re not tryin’ to push me away,” Emily demands, threading her fingers through my hair.

  “I’m not pushin’ you away,” I promise.

  She nods and climbs off me, sliding between my sheets. I follow her and turn off the lamp. I scoop the majority of her body onto mine, settling a hand on her completely naked ass. I force my control into place. It’s hard knowing there’s only a scrap of a thong separating us, but I do it.

  Emily’s tiny fingers trace along my ink as we lay in silence. Just as I’m about to fall asleep she asks, “Why is time an illusion?”

  She’s asking about the quote on my skin.

  “Because you can live a lifetime in a second or never experience a thing in eighty years,” I explain.

  She kisses the grandfather clock before
settling into me further.

  “My mom would’ve loved you, Garrett Sharp,” she says quietly with equal amounts of happiness and pain.

  I kiss her hair and hope like hell that she never realizes that she’s wrong.

  My alarm goes off too damn early. But I gently wake Emily and she’s her usual perky self, taking a quick shower. Nothing from last night seems to have fazed her, but I’m going to give her time. She deserves a chance to change her mind. And because I only have so much control, I’m not going to be able to have sex with her again until I’m certain she can do this with me.

  Torture.

  I have no idea how I’ll make it through the day without her next to me. Watching her is going to be agony now, knowing what she’s like up close and personal. I’m completely fucked.

  Once she’s ready to go, I interlace our fingers and lead her from the house. She’s annoyed I didn’t let her clean up the kitchen, but I can do it later. I don’t want her to be late.

  The ride to downtown is silent as I hold her hand in my lap. I rub my thumb over the back of her soft skin the entire time and feel sick to my stomach when we pull up in front of her dark shop.

  I don’t want her in there alone. I won’t suffocate her though. She’s an independent woman who’s worked her ass off to have the life she does. I won’t interfere in that…too much.

  Emily climbs over the gearshift and straddles my lap, cupping my cheeks.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” she says ardently before pressing her lips to mine, waiting for me to take over.

  I take it. I slant my head and invade her mouth, marking her already swollen lips. Any man that looks her way today will know I was here.

  When I stop the kiss, I give her a quick pat on the ass. I can’t walk her in or I’ll end up buried inside her on that gleaming counter.

  I push my door open and let her slink out before passing her purse to her. I grab her wrist when she turns to walk away, placing a small kiss on her skin.

  “Thank you,” I growl.

  “There’s nothing to thank me for,” she assures me. “Have a good day.”

  “You too.”

  Then she floats away. I watch her until she locks her shop and disappears into the kitchen. I wait for a while longer absorbing the warmth she left in my ride. When I can’t feel it anymore, I drive away.

  Exhaustion takes its toll as I wind and weave through fields covered in the first frost of the season. Lights are on in the kitchen when I pull in the garage. I almost forgot about Cody.

  I stalk into the house, heading straight for the coffee maker, which I find freshly brewed. Thank fuck.

  “Mornin’,” Cody’s voice calls from the couch.

  “Mornin’,” I grunt, bringing my mug to my mouth.

  I don’t move until I’ve emptied it halfway. Now I can be personable.

  “Sleep okay?” I ask, flopping down in my recliner.

  “Yeah.”

  He sips his own coffee without looking at me. I suck at this. Asking him to live here was the right thing, but I have no clue how to do this.

  I stand back up to clean the cookie mess and find it’s already gone. My focus on coffee made me miss that.

  “Thanks for cleanin’ up.”

  “Least I could do. I guess we should figure out how this is gonna work. How much rent should I pay? I can do stuff around the house too,” he suggests without the joke I think he’s trying to make.

  “Cody,” I growl and his dark green gaze snaps to mine. “Don’t do that shit with me. I’ll take care of you. It’s my fuckin’ job. You’re my brother. You just lost your mom. Focus on bein’ a kid for a while.”

  “Fuck that, Garrett,” he snarls. “I’m nobody’s responsibility. I was takin’ care of myself before she died. When that motherfucker went to prison, it ruined her. I’ve been the one takin’ care of shit since then.”

  “You were eight.”

  “I know.”

  Now rage is billowing beneath the surface as I rub my hand across my stubbled jaw. Daryl’s a worthless piece of shit. I was on my own from the time he went away with Clyde. I was six-years old the first time I had to steal food. I hated it, felt guilty, but I had to live because him being gone fucked with my mom too. And, when dear old dad came back, he didn’t want her anymore. Drugs had taken over and she was a lost cause in his eyes. Fucker knew I was a commodity and made sure he kept me. My mom didn’t give a shit about me by that point and overdosed a couple years later.

  “Okay,” I try to say calmly; fully aware it comes out harshly. “We’re both gonna have to try to do this thing. You’re not payin’ rent or bein’ my fuckin’ maid. You pitch in like I pitch in. I’ve gotta get the house in order. You know how to paint and shit like that?”

  “I’ve worked construction the last two summers with a guy that dated Hunter’s mom a few years back. I can do a lot more than paint. Drywall, tile, lay carpet, framing,” he answers in a shrug.

  I study him for a moment and come up with a plan.

  “You quit the grocery store and come work in my shop. I’ll pay you more than they do. In the evenings and on the weekends, we’ll tackle the house together. Hunter can come hang out if he wants and can keep his fuckin’ mouth shut,” I grunt.

  “He can’t keep his mouth shut,” Cody scoffs. “You really want me to work in your shop?”

  “Why not?”

  “You don’t know me. I don’t wanna wear out my welcome. I’ve got a job, but I need somewhere to live. If you get sick of me…” he trails off.

  “Jesus, kid, you’re fuckin’ killin’ me here,” I breathe out an overwhelmed breath, wanting to go to the prison housing Daryl and wring his neck. “I’m not gonna throw you out. I may be a dick, but I’m not that bad.” That’s not entirely true, but I know I won’t kick this kid to the curb after everything he’s been through.

  “It’d be good to make more money. College is gonna be outta the question if I don’t save more. If you’re really not gonna make me pay to live here, I might have a chance to save enough the next two years,” Cody says hopefully, climbing to his feet.

  Putting him through college just made it onto my new list of shit to do for him. I’ll tell him later because I can tell he’s struggling with taking my help. He strides into the kitchen and washes his mug before settling it in the dish drainer.

  “We should start with the kitchen. I can’t believe Emily baked in this thing last night,” he says, pointing his foot at the thirty-five-year-old avocado oven.

  “Thinkin’ about takin’ that wall out, filling both these walls with cabinets. Big island in the middle,” I explain my ideas.

  “If we moved the front door to that end, we could make a little entryway and then there’d be more space for cabinets and a bigger eating area,” he says, studying the front wall of the house intently.

  “That’s a good idea,” I compliment.

  Cody looks over at me and gifts me with a broad, proud smile that hits me right in the gut. The corner of my mouth tips of its own accord. Between him and Emily, I’ll have no edge left.

  “I better get ready. I’m gonna eat breakfast at Emily’s. I’ve never been in her shop before, but if those cookies are anything to go by…I’m guessin’ it’ll be my new favorite spot.” The way he says it tells me so much more than his words. He’s not talking about coffee and cakes. He’s talking about my woman and that shit warms my fucking heart.

  “Toss me your keys, bud. You’ve got a rod knock. I wanna check the block, but I’m guessin’ it needs a rebuild. You attached to your ride?”

  “Nah, it’s what I could afford when I turned sixteen,” he says, throwing me his keys.

  “We’ll get you a new one then. Something with a little more muscle.”

  He snorts before telling me, “I don’t have the money for six-year-old girl muscles.”

  “I didn’t say you’d buy it,” I grunt, striding out the front door.

  Once I’ve got his car in my garage, I pop the ho
od and take a good look. This thing’s fucked. If it wasn’t a five-hundred-dollar car with over two hundred thousand miles on it, I might think about fixing it. I slam his hood shut and decide he’s not driving this thing anymore. It’s an accident or being stranded waiting to happen.

  I call Emily’s shop while I’m walking back in the house, wiping my greasy hands on a rag.

  “Emily’s Coffee and Cakes,” she answers brightly.

  “Hey, Sugar,” I purr.

  “Hi,” she replies through a smile. I can fucking hear her smile.

  “Cody’s car’s crappin’ out. I’m gonna get him a new one, but it’ll take a few days. You think he could drive yours until then?” I know that’s a loaded question. I’m basically asking if I can drive her everywhere and assuming she’ll be spending every night with me. I want the time with her. I want to make this thing work. Now that she knows everything, we’ve got a shot. Having her in my bed and not having sex will be a new challenge, but one that’s worth it. We need time without hormones.

  “Of course. Should I walk home and get it?”

  “No,” I growl.

  “Right. Sorry,” she instantly apologizes.

  “Knock it off,” I grunt.

  “Right,” she huffs.

  “I’ll drive him to your shop and we can pick up your keys,” I attempt to speak kindly, not wanting to only grunt and growl at her.

  “Jordan can take me back to my place when we close. I’m sure he’ll take me to work too,” she says distractedly, probably baking.

  “I’ll take you.”

  “That’s silly. You don’t need to drive all the way in town to take me to work.”

  “You won’t be at your house, Emily.”

  “Oh.”

  “Oh,” I grunt.

  I consider telling her to just put her goddamn house on the market because I don’t intend for her to be there another night, but that’s a step further than I’ll allow my delusional brain to go.