“You big old’ momma bear,” Zoe taunts.
“I love this dress,” I squeal. “I swear once I’m up and on my feet, I’ll be paying you back, Renee.”
“Like hell, you will. I haven’t had this much fun in a long time, Amelia.”
“Bikini. I’m dying to see you rock that shit.” Zoe claps her hands.
“No, I’m drawing the line there.”
“C’mon. You’ll need one,” she begs.
“Not a chance.” I go back into the dressing room sorting all the clothes into two piles.
The for-sure-I-have-to-have pile and these-damn-things-can-go-back-on-the-rack pile. I’m hoping like hell the two maniacs out there have had their fill of Pretty Woman. I smile remembering how that used to be one of my favorite movies ever. Quite ironic, I find myself giggling realizing I’ve found my very own Richard Gere in a way.
Renee takes charge in the body wash and personal items aisle, tossing stuff in like there’s no tomorrow. She even offers up advice and beauty tips. These women have made me forget everything, and by the time we check out, it doesn’t bother me one bit that she’s paying for all of it. Instead of feeling insecure or worthless, that familiar feeling blooms inside me. Gratefulness.
I spot a Starbucks on the corner and know one day I’ll be able to take these girls out for a special treat. That will be my first goal after gaining ground in my life. It will be a day I'm looking forward to. Giving back.
* * *
“Amelia.” I spin around from sorting through my new clothes, pulling off the tags and placing them in the suitcase Renee stopped by her house to let me borrow to see Ronan standing at my door. His forehead is wrinkled. He appears to be struggling.
“Ronan, is everything good?” I ask, gulping down my fear. It anchors me in my spot. The only thing running through my mind is the constant fear I have that the new family I’ve found will find out who my real family is. That the evil from my past will meet the good of my present and throw their authority around, demanding to see me.
“Everything is fine. I want to talk about what Zeke offered you. May I come in?” I relax in my spot, sit on the edge of the bed, and nod.
“I’m sorry for signing myself out before coming back to talk to you. It was wrong.”
He smirks. Shakes his head and plants himself just inside of my room the same way he always does. It doesn’t go unnoticed that there’s no reaction for a high or a need for sex. It’s these small victories I cherish the most.
“It wasn’t wrong, Amelia. It’s your right to come and go when you please. There aren't many facilities similar to this one where the patients can do exactly that. You were brought here under the intention you could leave whenever you wanted. I’m glad you went. You getting your GED, then going out shopping proves to me, and I hope it proves to yourself, that you are more than ready to see what’s waiting on the other side. Does all this mean you’ve made up your mind?” He gestures to all my new items scattered over my bed.
“Yes. I had mixed feeling at first.” The nerves of anxiety take flight deep in my belly, but I battle them away continuing to talk. “I trust Zeke. The same way I trust you. It’s me I’m frightened about. The fallbacks I’m sure will challenge me. The voices in my head will fight with one another. I’m the only one who can sabotage my life. You, Renee, Zoe, Zeke, and everyone else here have helped me see myself for who I really am. I’m a good person who just so happens to be an addict.”
My mouth begins dry all of a sudden. I begin to twist my hands, stop and stare around my room. This is good-bye in a sense. I can feel it. So much for taking my time and really thinking about this. I’m assuming Zeke further explained his offer and that’s why Ronan is here asking me about it. There’s a silent confirmation in Ronan’s stance; he knows I’m going to say yes.
“There are going to be challenges every day until you become used to living on your own. Just because you are technically living in someone else’s home does not mean you aren’t on your own, Amelia. Don’t forget that. You're free to come and go there as much as you were here. I have something for you. This is a gift. The same way all of this stuff from my sister was. The same way Zeke has done for you. I want you to take it, accept it, and do not argue with me.” He reaches into his back pocket to reveal a shiny cell phone.
I look from him to the phone and back again. It’s a sign of freedom. A rite of passage of some sorts. My jaw drops wide open with shock, respect, and so many other feelings.
“You know,” I say with strength in my tone. Aim in my gaze and a perseverance about myself that several months ago I never knew I had. “I’ll accept it. No conditions attached, except this.”
I stand, smooth my hands down the front of my jeans. They are sweaty, itching to be wrung tight. The last time I stood in front of Ronan with an intention behind my actions was a time in my life when I didn’t care about anything except to erase my mind. I lean in and hug him, tight. Closing my eyes and hoping with everything within me that he trusts me the way I do him and hugs me back. A tear, the first one of many I shed that night trails down my cheek; its slow travel has me telling myself that tears aren’t always sad. They don’t have to come from pain or a life led in a constant state of fear from what’s going to happen next.
I don’t have to be a victim anymore. My mother never lifted a hand to try to help me. A man and his son raped me, used me, stole things from me I can never get back. I’m stronger than the pain, the fear, and the constant panic of being found. I owe it all to the man who’s hugging me back. He forgave the ugliness I brought with me and battled by my side until I could once again see the sparkles of beauty in life.
14
Zeke
“Who the fuck is that?”
I peer my head around the corner of the kitchen and glare at Saxon standing in front of the bay window in my living room. His head is cocked to the side, and his hands are running down the scruff of his face. Dude is daydreaming or some shit.
How the hell he can stand all that shit on his face beats me. Fucker is going to have a full beard like Katch’s if he doesn’t get rid of that shit soon.
“I’m not expecting anyone,” I announce, wipe my now paint free hands on the dish towel, and make my way over to him.
After my talk with Amelia and then Ronan the other day, I got a wild hair up my ass. Went and bought paint for Amelia’s room in hopes she would say yes. I was just finishing up when Saxon strolled in with a six-pack and steaks, and plopped his ass on my couch, complaining about wanting a home-cooked meal. Lazy-ass fucker. I guess club whores are just that and not housewife material.
“What the fuck?” I yell, poke him in the chest, and shove him out of my way.
“That, my little brother, is Amelia. Put your Goddamn eyes back in your head.”
Christ, she’s here. And she’s lugging a suitcase out of the back of a car. Her blond hair is piled on top of her head, and her legs are fucking killing me in those shorts. My heart starts pounding wildly in my chest. I really had no idea if she’d take the offer. Deep down, I was on my hands and knees praying she would. The only selfish side of my decision wanted to know she would be in a safe environment to flourish. And flourished she has.
A grin tilts the side of my lips just imagining her face when she sees what I’ve done. It’s all set up, and fuck all if I care if she even likes it. All I care about is she’s here.
On her own. And that reason alone is enough for me.
Her bedroom is ready with brand-new bedding and freshly painted walls. That I know, she’s going to love.
“Shit,” I exclaim, watching a few bags she’s juggling tumble to the ground while she wrestles the damn suitcase in her hands.
Saxon starts rambling on about her family and not finding anything on them yet when my common sense kicks in. “Don’t say a word about that.” I poke him in the chest, rush over to the door, flinging it open and racing down the stairs two at a time. Real smooth, Zeke, real fucking smooth. You’re going
to scare her away before she steps foot in the house.
Amelia whips her head up, her eyes going wide and her blond hair bouncing on top of her head. That damn messy bun is sexy as hell on her. I’d love to yank it out and watch her hair tumble all around her stunning face, though. Damn.
“Hey,” she squeaks out.
“May I?” I hold my hand out to take her suitcase.
She doesn’t offer it up right away. “Sorry, didn’t have your number. Hope this is all right?”
“Yes.” I nod anxiously reaching my hand out even farther. She could have easily got my number from Ronan, the same way I’m sure he gave her my address. I’m not saying shit to embarrass her. This is her way of stepping out on her own. Christ, I want to kiss her so damn bad. Tell her I’m proud of her and lift her off the ground.
She huffs a little, then relents and hands me the suitcase. Zoe grabs a few more bags out of the car and is quickly by her side.
“Thanks for the ride, Zoe.” Amelia grins over at her. “I owe you even more.”
“Horse shit. You don’t owe me a thing except keeping our friendship.” Zoe nudges her in the shoulder. Amelia smiles so Goddamn wide that my breath catches. She’s stunning when she smiles.
“Would you like to come check the place out?” I offer Zoe, shaking all my thoughts away. I’ll have plenty of time to pick up on the changes Amelia has made.
“Of course. Need to check for bedbugs and all.” She waves her arms wildly in the air.
There couldn’t be a better person for Amelia to be friends with. I’ve worked with hundreds of nurses over the years, and there’s only a handful of them who are truly meant for the job. The ones who care deeply. Zoe is one of them. A woman with a heart of gold.
I let the girls walk in first. Desperately trying to keep my eyes off Amelia’s ass. It’s useless. I can tell from here how nice it would feel in the palm of my hands.
I lift my gaze from her tempting ass to Saxon’s brows lifting as he moves off to the side of the front door to allow us to pass. Eyes still bulging out of his big old head. It’s fucking priceless. The man is rarely left speechless, until now. There may even be drool running down his chin under all that hair. But it’s not Amelia he’s staring at. It’s Zoe.
I make quick introductions keeping everything simple. My heart a pounding reminder that this is actually happening.
“Down this hall, ladies.” I roll her suitcase down the wide hallway to the last bedroom on the left. “Here. Sorry about the paint fumes. I just finished it up, but it should air out quickly. Your own bathroom is over there.” I point to the open door and admire her reaction.
“Oh, my God. Zeke.” The amazement floating from Amelia’s voice makes me aware my heart's still beating. It’s practically bashing out of my chest. “You didn’t have to do all this.”
“The white was boring.” I shrug.
“Amelia, it’s the same color as the dress. I swear periwinkle is your color.”
Amelia remains silent taking in the entire bedroom. I’ve bought a new king-sized bed, mattress, bedding. Dresser. A matching desk, equipped with a computer. A phone, and Christ, I may have overdone it.
“It’s beautiful, Zeke. All of it. Thank you so much.”
Her face brightens when she looks at me then to the bed. Her gaze trained on the black and white bedding.
I clear my throat. “You’re welcome. I’ll give you girls some time. Saxon and I were about to start making dinner. Zoe, you’re more than welcome to stay.”
“Robbie will be home soon. I have to get there before he does.” She tugs down on her short sleeve nervously.
“Robbie?” I ask.
“My fiancé.”
It’s in the way she tugged at her sleeve, the flush on her cheeks, and trepidation in her voice that makes my senses flare up. Something isn’t right with her and this Robbie. The time will come when I’ll ask Amelia if she knows anything about it.
Zoe squeezes Amelia to death before leaving. The girls share an emotional good-bye, and I walk Zoe out leaving Amelia to do whatever it is she needs to do.
“What the hell?” Saxon hisses up in my face as soon as our feet hit the kitchen tile.
“What?”
I’ve always loved jerking the man’s chain. He grows red in the face, letting me know it’s his tell sign of blowing up.
“Calm down, Saxon.” I pat his shoulder. “Amelia is my new roommate. She’s going to be working for me.”
“In your bed?” he asks with a cocked-up brow.
“Do you think of anything besides booze and pussy?” I shake my head at him.
“On rare occasions, but seriously, start fucking spilling before I get my own answers.”
My hands shove into his chest, pinning him up against the refrigerator. The asshole has always been bigger than me, but it’s never stopped me before from putting him in his place. “She needed a place to stay, and I offered. Between her surgeries and what put her in there in the first place, do you honestly think I would bring her here for any other reason than being her friend? Jesus Christ, Saxon.”
There are so many other details he doesn’t know about, and I’m not the one who will tell him. Brother or not, her trust is safe with me. Amelia’s past is just that, her past, and once justice is served, it will all be buried deep.
“Chill out, Zeke.” He shrugs out of my grasp. “See how simple words communicate nicely.”
“Fuck off,” I whisper.
“Who's the friend?”
“Just that, her friend, Zoe. She has a boyfriend, so stay away from her.”
“Never stopped me before.”
“Pig.”
A flash of blond beauty rounds the corner, forcing me to step back from Saxon.
“Hey.” She waves.
It takes everything inside of me to remain calm and not do fucking cartwheels like a toddler in celebration.
“Hungry, darling?” Saxon steps up to Amelia, offering her his hand. “Only this asshole calls me Saxon. My friends all call me Brick. I’m the smarter one. Better-looking one and all around nicer one.” Idiot.
I watch Amelia closely, wondering what her reaction will be. I don’t want people treating her with kid gloves. She deserves to be treated like everyone else. Sheltering her will do no good.
She hesitates only for a tick before putting her hand out to shake his. If you weren’t watching her, you never would have noticed it.
“Brick, huh? I can see why.” She eyes him up and down. He is a big scary fucker to some. To me, he’s the idiot ready to get pounded in the face in about two point five seconds or less.
“You got a last name, Amelia?” Saxon’s gruff voice fills the kitchen. Uh. Yeah, she does, and you know what it is already. What the fuck you up to?
“Moore,” she squeaks out.
“Nice to meet you, Amelia Moore.” He steps back saddling up to the bar, pouring himself a whiskey.
“Would you like some help?” she asks, tentative in her movements.
“Not this time. Have a seat and keep my idiot brother out of trouble.”
I make my way into the kitchen, grab her a bottle of water out of the fridge, and slide it across the bar with a wink. The two start talking about nonsense. I find out quite quickly she loves all kinds of sports, and before I know it, the two of them are arguing over the Raiders and the 49ers. When Amelia says the Raiders are her favorite team, I swear on the cross my dick jumps in my jeans. Fuck. This is going to be hard, and I’m not talking about my cock.
I listen to the two of them while cooking. I’m no psychologist, far from it, but even I know this is considered a victory. I send multiple sideways glares at my brother’s crude language and sexual references. I even go as far as dropping the knife in my hand when he mentions her family and change the subject right away. Steering it back to sports and how much Amelia loves to play basketball. I know Saxon can’t help it. It’s who he is. He wants to dig without her knowing. There’s no shiny exterior hiding in his core
. He wears it the same way he wears his motherfucking badge on his leather cut. Proudly. Amelia never flinches, relaxing comfortably in the bar stool, sipping on a bottle of water.
“Dinner’s ready,” I announce pulling three plates from the cupboard, some silverware, and napkins, setting them down in front of them.
We all circle the island, dishing out the food, and then settle comfortably at the bar. Conversation is light, but Saxon never strays from trying to pop a question or two into the mix about Amelia’s past. She blows him off every single time.
“You gonna finish that?” Saxon asks pointing to the remaining half of Amelia’s steak.
“No, going for more potatoes. Kind of a carb-type girl.” Amelia slides the steak onto Saxon’s plate.
“You’re like an angel sent from God, woman.” Saxon grins then picks up the meat and begins eating it like a modern-day caveman.
Amelia’s laughter trails behind her as she makes her way into the open kitchen, helping herself to more mashed potatoes.
“Anyone need anything while I’m up?” she asks.
“We’ve got legs,” Saxon replies around a mouthful of steak.
Saxon’s phone goes off. He answers it with a grunt and replies sharply with, “On the way.” He’s up, pulling on his cut and walking toward the door. He turns halfway and strides over to Amelia.
“You’re a good woman.” He pulls her into a tight hug. “And yes, I’m only saying that because you gave me your steak. Call ya later, brother, and answer your Goddamn phone when I do.”
Amelia and I finish our dinner in silence.
“I’ll do the dishes,” she offers.
“You don’t have to.”
“I want to.”
“Okay, I won’t turn away help.” I stand from the barstool stretching my arms up over my head.
Painting a room kicked my ass. The gym has nothing on that damn workout. I’m feeling muscles I didn’t even know I had. When I look over to Amelia, her gaze is focused on the slice of skin peeking out between my T-shirt and gym pants. I look away quickly not wanting to make her feel uncomfortable. Thank fuck my bathroom is far enough away from her room, because with her looking at me like that, there is no way in fucking hell I’m not going to be jacking off to this woman.
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