Dalton (Heaven Hill Shorts Book 9)

by Laramie Briscoe

  I listen to him, chewing on the inside of my jaw, wanting to tell him to fuck off, but I can’t, because he’s halfway right.

  “What have you done to change the circumstances, Dalton?”

  “I did what the fuck she asked me to do. I packed my shit and left. I love her enough to let her go.”

  He makes a face at me. “C’mon man, is that what you really think she wants?”

  “It’s what she wanted,” I argue.

  Wild stands up and walks over to place his palm on my shoulder. “Open your eyes my man, because you doing what she wants is pushing you and her further apart. You want your life back? You gotta take it back, or it might not be there waiting for you when you figure it out.”

  Chapter Three

  Dalton

  “What would you do if Charity told you to pack your shit and leave? If she gave you an indefinite amount of time she’d need to take care of her issues? What would you do?”

  I’m playing with fire asking Drew this question and I know it. He can see right through me; best friends can spot bullshit from a mile away.

  “If my wife asked me to leave her, I’d tell her fuck no.”

  “Not leave her,” I correct him. “Leave the house.”

  “Either way, it’s leaving her,” he stares me down, but I don’t shirk under the gaze. I’ve known him long enough to know I can handle whatever it is he has to say to me. “Look I ain’t said shit about what’s going on between you and Mandy. That’s y’all’s life and you’re the ones living it, but I see both of you. She’s depressed and struggling, you’re unhappy and all you want to do is be with your family. What the fuck is any of this accomplishing?”

  Immediately I feel a rush of irritation, wanting to stand up for my wife, but these are the same questions I’ve been asking myself all along. “I don’t know,” I shrug. “Walker said things aren’t good at home.”

  “Yeah, he’s said some stuff to Dad, and to me, but none of us know how to help her.”

  And therein lies the issue we’re all facing. None of us know how to help Mandy. Short of tying her down and dragging her to Doc Jones’, I’m at the end of my rope too. Reaching into my jeans pocket, I pull out my hard pack of Marlboros, trying not to notice my shaking hands as I go about lighting one up. The calming effect the nicotine used to give me isn’t there anymore, probably because I’m scared.

  Scared to death I’m going to lose not only my family, but the love of my life. Shit’s never been easy for us, we’ve fought and clawed our way through situations that would have destroyed other married couples, and I’ve always seen us making the sacrifices to keep us together.

  But now, I’m not sure we’re going to make those sacrifices.

  I don’t know how we can come back from this.

  Every day I start the morning thinking this is the day. She’ll finally let me back home, but each day I’m disappointed because we’re further away from where we started.

  “Do you think she’ll hurt Walker?” Drew’s voice is low, almost so low I can’t hear him.

  “She’d never hurt our son.”

  His glare presses against me, holding me back from taking the swing at his face he deserves.

  “I thought she’d never kick you out of the house, but here we are.”

  There’s nothing I can say to him, nothing that will make him understand how I’m trying my best to adhere to her wishes.

  “She lost her baby.”

  “Both of you,” Drew insists. “Both of you lost your baby, you should be trying to get through it together. I just can’t get behind this, dude. You’re both hurting so much and neither of you want to take the first step.”

  “Fuck you,” I throw my half-smoked cigarette down.

  “What’d you say to me?”

  Most men wouldn’t go toe-to-toe with Drew, but we’ve grown up together, we’ve started running this club together, and even though I should be, I’m not scared of him.

  “You heard me. Fuck you. You don’t know what it’s like,” I kick at the gravel around our feet, smiling smugly when a few of the rocks make a clanging noise against his bike.

  “I’m gonna pretend like you didn’t just do that to me, Dalton. You do it again and I’ll kick your ass.”

  The idea has merit. Maybe then I could fucking feel something. Right now, I don’t feel anything at all. Even pain would be preferable to this numbness that seems to have overtaken my body in the past couple of months.

  Before I can even think about it, my foot goes out, kicking the rocks one more time. Again, they clang, hitting the metal of Drew’s bike.

  “I told you son-of-a-bitch, you do it again and I’m gonna kick your ass.”

  Standing there with an attitude - which I know pisses him off - I cross my arms over my chest. “That’s what you said, but that’s not what you’re doing.”

  He makes a noise deep in his throat, bends over at the waist and runs, tackling me, and taking us both to the ground.

  In times past when we’ve tussled, I’ve never taken a shot at him. Not to say I haven’t wanted to, but I’ve always respected him enough not to let my anger get the best of me. He’s the hotheaded one and I’m the person who typically talks him down, and reminds him there’s always a bigger picture.

  But not today. Today I let him hit me once, then I fight back.

  Fight with everything I have.

  Fists are flying, fucks are being thrown out haphazardly, and I’m reveling in the pain. It’s something I can finally feel. So much better than the nothing I’ve been saddled with since I realized Mandy called her brother to take her to the hospital and not me.

  From that moment, it’s seemed like I didn’t matter and the truth is - I’ve hated him for it. I’ve hated him for being there for her in that moment, because it should have been me.

  Drew stops, his face screwed up, blood gushing out of his nose. “What did you say?”

  I don’t remember saying anything, so I shake my head.

  “It should have been you?”

  The anger comes back, as if I’ve opened a gate and can’t close it against the helplessness and fear mixed in. “She should have called me, I’m her husband. All I’ve ever wanted is to be there for her, but when things get difficult, we can’t seem to be on the same fuckin’ page.”

  “Mandy dealt with a lot while we were growing up.”

  “So did I, and so did you.”

  And that’s when they come. The tears I’ve been holding back for months. In big heaving sobs, forcing my sore chest to inhale deep breaths to try and keep from hyperventilating.

  “I miss my family,” I rub the back of my hand across my nose, surprised when it comes back red. Falling back on my ass, my shoulders slump. “All I’ve ever wanted is a fucking family, Drew. I had it, for a little while, and now it’s been taken from me.”

  Drew winces as he has a seat next to me. “You have a family.”

  I shake my head. “Push comes to shove, you’ll always pick her and I’ll never make anyone choose. I’ll give up the patch if I have to. Sometimes it’s like I’m fighting a losing battle. Is love supposed to be this hard to hang on to?”

  He doesn’t answer, and I wonder if that’s the problem.

  Maybe Mandy and I aren’t meant to be together. Maybe it’d be best if we went our separate ways.

  But the more I think about it, the more the pain in my chest intensifies, and I know I’ll do whatever it takes to get my family back.

  Chapter Four

  Dalton

  This field, it’s meant a lot to me and Mandy. Back when Walker was little, and we just needed some time away, this is where we’d come. This is where she told me she was pregnant with the baby she lost, and this is where that child was made.

  Like I said, it’s meant a lot to us.

  A few miles down the road from our home, it’s been our sanctuary when things got too tough between the four walls of any room.

  My hands shake when I pull my phone out of m
y pocket.

  D: I’m at the field. Come meet me.

  Honestly, I’m not sure she will. She’s been avoiding me like it’s her goddamn job lately.

  M: Walker’s in bed and it’s cold.

  D: Walker slept through a legit tornado, and I know how to keep you warm.

  It takes a million years for her to respond to me, I’m on the edge of giving up and going back to the clubhouse when I see three little dots appear, letting me know she’s answering. Whether it be good or bad, I don’t care. All I want is some recognition that I still exist for her.

  Something to let me know she still cares.

  M: I shouldn’t do this, but I’ll be there in a few minutes.

  D: Thank you, babe. I love you.

  Feels like I’ve won the fuckin’ lottery, knowing that she’s going to come and see me. I haven’t heard her voice in weeks. All of our communication has been done over text, and I just want to hear her, let the rich southern texture of her accent run over me. I’ve been falling asleep to videos of her for weeks now. Us in happier times, like when she used to hide behind her long hair and then peek out at me through her tendrils. The hood of her eyes would show me exactly what she wanted.

  I miss those times.

  I miss her and our life.

  I just miss it all.

  Reaching into my jeans pocket, I fumble with my cigarette pack and lighter. My hands tremble as I light one up. Hopefully it calms me down, otherwise I’m gonna act like a teenager on his first date.

  As I take another hit, the lights of a vehicle pop over the hill from the direction of my house. When it slows and takes the gravel entrance to the field, I know it’s Mandy. Quickly finishing my cigarette, I throw it down, making sure it’s snuffed out with the toe of my boot.

  My eyes track her as she parks, shuts the car off, and slowly gets out. She’s gorgeous, like always. It’s a full moon, and I can see her just as easily as I’d be able to with the low-light in our bedroom.

  “Hey,” I put my hands in my jeans pockets to keep from reaching out to her; we’re at a point where I don’t know how she would take it.

  “Hey,” she leans against the hood of our car, twirling a lock of dark hair around her finger. “How have you been?”

  This is hard to answer. “How have I been? I feel like I’m missing my other half, Mandy. I wanna come home,” those words are ripped from my throat, with every single bit of emotion I’ve been feeling since she asked me to leave.

  “Dalton please,” she sighs, before dropping her hair and looking at me. “Do you think this is easy for me?”

  “It must be,” I yell, for the first time since this all started, I yell at her. “Because it doesn’t seem like you’re going through the same shit I am. I’ve been patient Mandy,” I advance on her, putting my hands on either side of her hips, pressing my body against hers, making her look at me.

  “You don’t know what I’m going through.”

  The words are said softly, but as our eyes meet, I’m terrified. Those eyes of hers that are usually so damn expressive, that usually show me every single thing she’s feeling or thinking - there’s nothing. It’s like a blank stare. She could literally be looking through me and it’d be the same thing.

  “Babe, I’m scared,” I try another tactic, one I haven’t tried before; being completely and totally honest. “I’m scared for you, for me, for Walker. What’s happening?” I ask as I lean into her.

  A tiny noise of appreciation works it’s way out from the back of her throat. I’m hard, it’s been a long time, and I miss her.

  “Dalton…” she reaches down, cupping the bulge against my zipper with her hand. “I’m scared too.”

  “Then let me back in,” I widen my stance so I can bend down at the knee, force her to see me, to really see me.

  There are unshed tears in her tone when she speaks again. “I want to, but I don’t know how.”

  “We can do this. We can make this work again, whatever is bothering you, talk to me about it.”

  “I don’t know how,” she says again, frustration in her voice.

  “What do you mean you don’t know how?”

  Even when shits been crazy with us, we’ve been able to talk. It might not have always been easy, but we’ve always managed to see each it through to the other side.

  Mandy’s face screws up in a grimace I’ve never seen before, and I’m this close to asking her if she needs a doctor when words finally come forward. “I’m broken, Dalton.”

  “What?”

  How can she think she’s broken? She’s always been perfect to me. No matter what we’re going through as a couple, she’s perfect for me.

  “You’re not broken. Why do you say that?”

  “Losing our baby, there’s a piece of me that shattered and I can’t put it back together, Dalton. I’m not sure how. I wake up every day telling myself this is the day you’re going to fix your hair, put on a little makeup, call your husband and fix the shitshow you’ve made of your life, but it never happens. And I know, don’t you think I know, how you feel?”

  “No,” I grasp her by the chin. “You don’t know how I feel because you’ve never asked.”

  “I can’t take it,” she cries. “The blame I know you’ll put on me, I can’t take it, I don’t want to accept it.”

  “What? There’s no blame I’d put on you. I love you, Mandy.”

  She’s all over the place, and maybe that’s what she means by not being able to deal, maybe she’s so scattered in everyday life she can’t figure out how to make heads or tails of her feelings.

  “I love you too,” she puts her arms around my neck and the world rights itself. Hearing her say those words to me? It’s everything I’ve hoped and dreamed for. When she slips her arms back slightly and angles her mouth to mine, I forget everything I wanted to say to her and focus on the now.

  Instead of the heart-to-heart, my tongue tangles with hers, my lips affix themselves to hers, fighting for real estate as I reach down and lift her onto the hood of our car, here in our field, in the moonlight.

  If it wasn’t for the circumstances, this would be the perfect night.

  Chapter Five

  Dalton

  Our fingers fight against one another, feeling for flesh neither one of us have touched in so long.

  When Mandy tries to get my button-down flannel undone, something sticks, she growls into my mouth, and I hear fabric rip.

  Slightly pulling back, I chuckle. “Good thing that wasn’t one I’m attached to.”

  She hooks her legs around my waist, pulling me to her. “I’d rather have you attached to me.”

  This is the Mandy I know. This is the woman I married, and have loved since we were kids. Finally she’s showing me the piece of her I’ve missed so much. All seems right with my world as I reach down and unbuckle my belt, making quick work of the zipper and button, sliding them down to my knees.

  It’s cold, but not too cold to be doing this. The two of us are acquainted with sex in this field.

  She wrenches her lips away from mine. “Hurry Dalton, I need you.”

  I need her too, and I’m not lying to myself anymore about how much. Somehow clothes get removed from the lower half of her body and she’s pulling me into her.

  “Slow down,” I croon.

  I’m fully aware this is the first time we’ve done anything since she lost the baby, I don’t want to hurt her.

  “I can’t,” she grabs at me, her nails dig into my hips and before I know it, I’ve plunged into her warm wetness.

  “God, you’re wet.”

  “I know,” she leans in, nipping against the skin of my neck. “I’ve been thinking about you for at least a week.”

  “Why didn’t you call or text me?”

  She’s trying to move, but I refuse until she answers my question. Reaching up, I tip her chin down so that our eyes are forced to meet one another.

  “It’s too painful,” she finally puffs out. “It’s just a reminde
r of something I had and now it’s gone.”

  Before I can tell her I’ll always be here, she’s hooked her heels into my ass, and I’m done for. It’s been too long, I’ve wanted her too much, and being in her arms feels more like home than anything has in months.

  Together we push and pull, taking each other’s bodies in ways we haven’t in a long time. There’s a savagery to way she pulls against me and I push against her.

  The only thing that can be heard between us is the slap of our bodies and the grunts and groans as we work so hard to meet the physical release we both know we can get. Fuck the emotional one at this point.

  We need something and we’re taking it.

  All too soon she tightens against my cock, pulling it deeper into her core and that’s all it takes for me to let go.

  In the aftermath, I sleepily rest my forehead against hers.

  “Tomorrow I’ll move my stuff back to the house,” I kiss her on the forehead, my heart finally feeling light after all this time of being weighed down by the uncertainty of our situation.

  “No,” she whispers. “Dalton, things still aren’t fixed.”

  My stomach drops as I lean back from her, tucking myself back into my jeans. “Well, I kinda feel like we fixed some things.”

  “We fucked, Dalton. We both had needs, they were met. Physical needs, met by physical pleasure.”

  Anger and rage tear at me, making me want to rip my skin from my body. “Why are you doing this?”

  “Why can’t you see?” Tears are streaming down her face now. “Why can’t you see what I need from you?”

  Grabbing her by the arms, I get in her face. “Why can’t you fucking tell me what you need from me? I keep making gestures, I keep trying and you continue to tell me that whatever I’ve done isn’t good enough. What do you expect me to do, Mandy? Please, just tell me.”