by Alex Grayson
I hate cheating just as much as the next person, but it still doesn’t justify hitting a person because of it. There are no excuses for such behavior.
“P-please,” he begs, tears leaking down his cheeks. “It won’t happen again.”
“Damn right it won’t. And we’re here to make sure it doesn’t.”
I’ll give the guy credit. He’s not tied down to the chair he’s in because he’s smart enough to know there’s no way he could escape if he were to try. However, as soon as those words leave my mouth, he springs up from his chair, eyes wide, and attempts to sprint to the door. He doubles over when my fist jams into his stomach.
“You brought this on yourself, Caleb. Now you have to pay the consequences,” I tell him and land another hit to his midsection. He falls to his knees and lets out several wet coughs.
I step back just as JW comes forward. He grips Caleb’s hair and forces his head back so he’s looking at him with pain-filled eyes.
“Preying on someone you feel is weaker than you is a bastard move,” he growls in Caleb’s face.
Blood flies out of Caleb’s mouth after JW rapidly hits him twice in the jaw. He lets go of his hair and Caleb drops to his side on the floor. Trouble comes forward next. He glares down at the whimpering man.
“People like you make me sick.”
Pulling his foot back, he lets it fly forward and kicks the shit out of his ribs. More blood spurts from his mouth. He groans and huddles into a fetal position, clutching his sore ribs.
I take a step closer to him when Emo walks up. His black hair hangs in his face, but I see his eyes well enough to note the perilous look. Just as I suspected, blood drips from his tight fist. I tense, ready to pull him back if he gets out of hand.
Emo drops to his knees beside Caleb and grabs him by his shirt, yanking him up. He stares at him a moment, Caleb’s already swelling eyes looking back at him in panic.
Baring his teeth, Emo headbutts Caleb so hard that blood immediately starts gushing from his broken nose. Emo releases him and his head thumps back to the floor with a groan. Before I can anticipate his next move, Emo’s sitting on Caleb’s chest pounding his fists into his face over and over again, deep growls rumbling from him.
Trouble and JW both walk over slowly, giving Emo time to get in a few shots before they wrestle him away. Caleb moans, his face a bloody mess. Emo struggles in our grasp, fighting to get away and back to the beating he was giving Caleb.
“He’s had enough, Emo,” Trouble says calmly.
After a moment, he stops struggling. They release him and he stalks to the door, yanks it open, and walks out.
I squat down beside Caleb and shove him to his back. “You going to put your hands on another woman again?” I ask.
He tries to talk, but it comes out a cough instead. After a moment, he manages to garble out a “No.”
“See that you don’t. Next time this will end differently.”
He’s not stupid and knows just how it’ll end if he ever lays another hand on a woman.
Trouble and JW haul Caleb up by his arms. He whimpers and is too weak to hold himself up, so they drag him out the door. They deposit him in the back seat of Trouble’s truck, where he’ll end up at Trouble’s office to get patched up.
Since it was the first time he’s ever hit a woman, this was just a warning. We only give one, and only if the crime was minor. While even a small slap is too much, Caleb is normally a good guy.
“I’m going to be out of town for at least the next couple of weeks,” I tell JW. Trouble already knows of my plans.
“Trouble explained to me what’s going on. Want me to do some digging?”
The thought hasn’t crossed my mind until now. I’d prefer for Ellie to tell me what happened all those years ago, but I get the sense she’s not going to do so willingly.
“Yes. I’ll keep you updated on when I’m due back. Call me if you find anything.”
“You got it,” JW answers.
I tip my chin to the truck. “And keep an eye on him too.”
I don’t see Caleb making the same mistake twice, but it wouldn’t hurt to keep a watch out.
Emo’s already in my car when I climb inside.
“You good?” I ask him as I start the engine. Trouble’s truck passes by us.
“Yes,” he answers. His eyes are pinned on the hunting lodge.
“You ever going to tear it down?”
“No.”
That lodge holds a lot of bad memories for Emo. It was a place his dad liked to take him during his drunk spells.
I sigh and turn my car around. “Why do you keep it?”
My brothers and I have asked him this several times, and his answer is always the same.
“Because it helps me remember.”
He doesn’t need the lodge to help him remember what he went through as a child. Those memories are burned inside him. He has plans for the lodge.
Instead of taking him to his house, I drop him off at Grace’s place. She’ll make sure his hand is taken care of properly. If it were left up to him, he’d just wrap it with duct tape to stop the bleeding and be done with it. Grace will also help with the blackness that he’s fallen into because of the encounter with Caleb. He’ll need relief, and there aren’t many women in Malus that can handle Emo’s form of sexual escape.
Once I’m home, I pack my shit for my trip. I call Ellie and make sure everything is set up for me to meet with Maisy’s doctor tomorrow after I land. When I ask how Maisy is, she tells me she’s fine, but tired after her dialysis treatment. I want to ask to talk to her, but I refrain. It might seem strange for her mother’s “friend” to want to speak to her on the phone.
I fucking hate this shit. As soon as the opportunity arises, I’ll be talking to Ellie to find out what else Maisy knows about me. I should have done it while they were here, but my brain was still in a fog over discovering I had a daughter.
I’m still shocked as shit, but it doesn’t worry me like I thought it would. I never wanted children because of the fucked-up shit from my past. I also knew I would never be in a long-term serious relationship, and I didn’t want to bring a child into a world where they’re shuffled between parents. I still don’t want that for Maisy, but I’m optimistic that Ellie and I will work something out that’ll be as stress-free for Maisy as possible.
It’s not like we have a choice anyway. Maisy’s happiness will always come first.
Chapter Six
ELLIE
I TWIDDLE MY THUMBS as I sit on the couch and pretend to watch the movie Maisy put on for the both of us. Judge is due to arrive at any minute. I don’t know why I’m so nervous. Actually, I do. Judge has always had the ability to make me anxious. Even years ago. It took us being together a month for the jitters to settle anytime he was in the room.
Maisy laughs at something on the TV, and I look over at her. My heart hurts when I see the same indent in her chin that Judge has. It still amazes me how much they look alike. When she was first born, the similarities took me by surprise. It took a long time for me to be able to look at her and not feel a pinch of pain. My daughter, who is my very own miracle, means more to me than anything in this world, but knowing she was part of the man I so desperately loved, a man who so carelessly tossed me aside, was hard to get past.
“Mom? You okay?”
I lift my eyes and find Maisy’s worried ones. “Yeah, sweetie. I’m okay.”
Her frown deepens. “You looked like you were about to cry.”
I wipe whatever look she’s talking about off my face and offer a smile. “I promise, I’m fine.”
She looks at me doubtfully. Maisy’s always been very smart and intuitive for her age, but I’m the adult. It’s me who should be worrying about her, not the other way around.
“Are you hungry? It’s about time for lunch.”
She brings her feet to the couch and crosses her legs. “Can we wait until Judge gets here?
”
“Sure, baby.”
I get up from the couch to grab a bottle of water.
“Mom?” I turn back to her. “Judge is mad at you, isn’t he?”
See? Intuitive.
I sit back down on the couch. “He is. There’re things that happened years ago. Things we both did that hurt each other.”
She pinches her lips out to the side. “Can’t you both just apologize?”
I contemplate her suggestion. Did I ever apologize for keeping Maisy a secret? Thinking back to the one night we discussed it, I don’t think I did. Not that it would do any good. Of course, Judge never apologized for his part either.
I give my attention back to Maisy. “Sometimes an apology isn’t enough,” I tell her truthfully.
“But you won’t know unless you try, right? Maybe it will be enough.”
Tears prick my eyes at her innocence. One day she won’t feel the same way as she does now. Life will get to her and she’ll realize it’s not as simple as she wants to believe. I won’t always be there to protect her from harsh realities.
I lean down and kiss her forehead, breathing in her pure and clean scent.
“Maybe.” It’s the only answer I can give her without crushing her optimistic view of the world.
There’s a knock at the door, and it brings my nerves back to the forefront. Maisy sits up straighter and drops her socked feet to the floor, her expression turning excited.
I get up from the couch and go to the door. Pulling in a steadying breath, I grip the knob and pull the door open. My breath blows out on a whoosh at my first sight of him in days. My eyes drink him in.
He has on a dark-gray button-up dress shirt over his hard chest with the first couple of buttons undone, showing off a small glimpse of tanned skin beneath. A pair of black slacks mold over his thick thighs, and he has on dress shoes. His dark-brown hair is perfectly styled, and he has a hint of a shadow on his chin and cheeks. Back in the day it didn’t happen often, but I’ve always loved when he went a day without shaving.
It takes a lot of effort on my part, but I manage to hide the shiver racing through me.
My cheeks flush when I lift my eyes to his. One brow is raised, and I know I was caught checking him over.
I clear my throat and open the door wider. “Hello, Judge. Come on in.”
“Thanks,” he mutters.
He steps inside and drops the small travel bag he was carrying on the floor by the door. His eyes immediately move to the living room. Once he sees Maisy standing nervously by the couch, a look of relief softens his expression.
“Hi,” Maisy says, her hands twisting together in front of her.
Judge smiles, and it feels like a lead ball lands in my stomach. He used to smile like that at me. I’m not jealous or resentful of my daughter—she deserves to have the love Judge obviously feels toward her—but that doesn’t mean I don’t miss the affection he once felt for me.
“How are you feeling?” he asks, moving into the living room. I trail behind him slowly, suddenly feeling like I’m encroaching on something private.
“Just tired.”
He nods in understanding. “Your mom told me you’re always a bit run-down after your treatments.”
I decide to give the two a few minutes alone.
“We were waiting on you to get here before we made lunch. I’ll just go to the kitchen and get it ready.”
I ignore the feeling of Judge’s eyes on me as I leave the living room. The next couple of weeks are going to be hard. When Judge said he was coming to town, he offered to stay in a hotel. I agreed because I knew it would be difficult to have him around all the time. But then Maisy asked if he could stay here. She wants to get to know her dad, so I couldn’t deny her request. Declan thought it was a good idea as well. Especially after I told him Maisy and I would be staying in Malus for a while after she’s better.
I pull out the makings for roast beef sandwiches, along with a bowl of fresh fruit I cut up earlier. I keep one ear toward the living room, trying my best to unabashedly listen to what’s going on in there. Of course, all I can hear is soft murmurs.
It doesn’t take me long to have everything ready. I carry the plate of sandwiches and the bowl of fruit to the table in the dining room. The living and dining room are connected, so I have a clear view of the couch, where Maisy and Judge are sitting talking quietly. Going back to the kitchen, I grab three water bottles from the fridge and bump into Judge when I turn around.
A hmpf leaves my lips on a rush. He grabs my upper arms before I can fall backward.
“Easy,” he grunts.
“Sorry,” I grumble.
Before I can bend and pick up the bottles that fell from my hand, he squats and grabs them.
“It was my fault. I shouldn’t have been standing so close.”
I peek up at him from beneath my lashes. His frown is deep as he looks down at me. It makes me wonder what he’s thinking.
“Lunch is ready,” I tell him, then silently curse myself when it comes out breathless.
Without a word, he spins on his heel and stalks out of the kitchen. I take a fortifying breath before following him. Maisy is already at the table, and Judge takes the seat beside her. I opt for the one across from them. It’s quiet for the first few minutes.
“Once we’re done, we can leave for your appointment with Maisy’s doctor,” I inform him.
He sets his sandwich down on his plate and wipes his mouth.
“Trouble should have had my records sent over to the office by now.”
Judge had Trouble perform what tests he could at his office to help speed the process along. He’ll still have a few to do before they can determine if Judge is a kidney candidate for Maisy.
“Do you attend online school?” Judge asks Maisy.
“Yes,” she answers, a hint of yearning in her voice. “I miss going to a regular school though.” She spears a piece of pineapple and pops it into her mouth.
“I bet it gets hard sometimes,” he remarks. “Are any of your friends allowed over?”
“Not a whole lot, because most of the time I don’t feel well.”
Remorse hits me square in the chest. There are so many things Maisy’s had to give up because of her illness. She still has friends she talks to on the phone sometimes, and I do let one or two come over for a couple of hours every so often, but I know it’s not the same for her because she’s so limited on what she can do. It’s only been a few months since this started, but it’s had a huge impact on her.
As Judge and Maisy continue to talk, I close my eyes and send up a silent prayer.
Please let my baby girl make it through this.
LATER THAT EVENING, I’m in Maisy’s room sitting on the side of her bed as she gets situated underneath the covers. After Judge’s appointment with Maisy’s doctor, he took several tests the doctor had already ordered. It’ll be a few days before we get all the results back, but the doctor seemed very hopeful that Judge would be a viable candidate.
“Tired?” I ask Maisy needlessly, and brush away a thick piece of curly brown hair off her forehead.
She nods, her eyes drooping heavily with fatigue.
“Tomorrow we’ll take it easy, okay?”
“Okay.”
I smile and she gives me one back. Leaning down, I kiss her forehead, both cheeks, the tip of her nose, and her chin. She giggles and it makes my heart feel lighter. This is our thing: me kissing her in all those places. It’s something we’ve done for years. It started off as a ploy to avoid going to sleep and it just sorta stuck.
Maisy’s eyes dart past me, widening, before they glimmer with pleasure. I stiffen when I feel his presence step further into the room. Even without Maisy giving him away, I would know it was him. My body’s always been able to recognize his even before he makes his presence known.
He steps up to the bed, and when he remains quiet, I lift my head. He’s not looking at Maisy, bu
t at the picture frame beside her lamp on her nightstand. It’s the one picture I had of him. I had it framed when Maisy was three, and it’s sat on her nightstand ever since.
Sometimes, I’d walk by her room and find her holding the picture, looking at it longingly. Those are the times the guilt would eat away at me and I’d second-guess my decision on keeping her from him. But then the fear of him rejecting her would come next. You never know what you miss if you never had it. That was my train of thought. Yes, Maisy wanted her dad, but if she never knew him, she never had to worry about him not wanting her. I knew that pain intimately, and I refused to take the chance of her feeling it too.
Judge’s questioning eyes fall on me. I know what he wants to know. I never told him that Maisy knows who he is. I wasn’t ready for that conversation, so I kept that bit to myself. My reprieve is up. I’ve got no choice but to tell him.
His gaze turns hard, and I look away from him.
I tuck the covers tighter around Maisy. “I’ll see you in the morning, sweetie.”
“Okay, Mom. Love you. Goodnight.”
My smile is brittle. “Love you too.”
I get up, expecting Judge to follow me. I’m surprised when I look back and find him sitting on the side of the bed in the same spot I just vacated. I leave them alone and go out into the living room. Mindlessly, I wander over to the window that overlooks the backyard. It’s dark out and the porch light isn’t on, but it doesn’t matter. My mind is on other things anyway.
Judge’s reflection appears when he steps into the living room a few minutes later. I blink slowly, take a deep breath in through my nose, and blow it out of my mouth before I turn around and face him. I sag back against the window frame.
Before he has a chance to say something, I start talking.
“I never kept who Maisy’s father is from her. She’s known you from the moment she could comprehend the meaning of the word father. She knows the story of how we met and all the wonderful things that came after that day. I wanted her to know as much as she could about you. Of course, I didn’t tell her how things ended. To Maisy, you’re this amazing man that made her mother happy for six beautiful months.”