Rectify (A Redemption Novel Book 3)

by Marley Valentine

  Hendrix and I were never really together. Always an obstacle, always a mismatched moment; over fifteen years we shared more tears than smiles. I was too busy trying to achieve perfection, and he was working too hard to prove we were already there.

  Never on the same page, he eventually moved on and found his happy ever after, while I’m still stuck in the adhesion plot of my story. No matter how hard I try, I can’t find the next beat, I can’t find my way out. I feel like I’m drowning, like breathing with ease is a skill I haven't quite yet mastered.

  So, when Holly continues to pressure me about putting myself out there, these are the thoughts that overwhelm me, the thoughts I can’t escape. The very small but significant reasons as to why a life shared with somebody else, isn’t for me.

  The day progresses, busy and fast, Wet clothes, spilled milk, tears of distress and a ridiculous amount of temper tantrums. There must be a full moon tonight, it’s always the reason kids go feral.

  The distant sound of a phone ringing in my office has my ears perk up, waiting for Holly to answer it. After seven rings, I hear it come closer, the line diverting to the phones in the children’s rooms. Holly must be busy.

  I glance between the phone and the kids eating their afternoon tea. “I’m just going to run inside, and grab the phone,” I tell one of the other workers.

  She nods as I rush through the door, and reach for the handset. “Hello, Little Lights, Sasha—”

  “Mum,” Dakota cuts me off, immediately recognising my voice.

  “What is it? Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m going to meet you at work this afternoon, is that okay?”

  Not an unusual occurrence, I’m still skeptical of her reasoning. “You don’t want to go straight home?”

  “No. I want sushi from the place near you for dinner.”

  “And that’s the only reason?”

  She groans on the other side of the phone used to my third degree. “Stop reading into everything, mum. I just want sushi.”

  “Okay. Okay. I’ll see you when you get here.”

  “Bye, Mum.”

  “Bye, babe.”

  Ending the call, I mentally calculate the hours’til Dakota arrives. I think of all the things I need to do, and wonder if I can cram it all into a few hours, so we can leave earlier than closing time. I always feel an unnecessary amount of guilt when Dakota is here. I don’t want my workers thinking I’m throwing my superiority in their face by allowing my daughter to come and go as she pleases. It’s not like I wouldn’t let them bring their own children here in case of an emergency; it’s just something I try and not make a habit of.

  The afternoon goes by crazy fast, and before I know it, I’m checking the clock every ten minutes expecting Dakota to waltz on in. Sitting the junior kids on the floor, I gather them around the TV and let them wind down as parents begin to trickle in and pick up their kids. I feel a slight tug at my legs, and I look down and see Lily looking up at me expectantly.

  I bend down and meet her watery eyes. “You okay, little miss?”

  “Daddy?”

  I wipe a lone tear from her rosy cheek and sit on the floor beside her. “You want to sit on my lap and watch some Bananas In Pyjamas?”

  She climbs into my lap, wordlessly seeking refuge. I shift her ‘til we’re both comfortable, and hold her ‘til her mood changes, and she’s laughing at the TV show with the other kids. When it feels safe enough to move her, I place her next to another child and announce I’m off to the kitchen to pick up some afternoon snacks.

  Filling up the trolley with different fruits and crackers, I wheel it back into the room and begin to hand out little cup sized portions to the ravenous youngsters. When each kid has their food, I head to the wall-sized whiteboard to the left of the room and fill in the necessary details. What kids eat, what kids don’t. Every single thing they do in a day; good, bad, or uneventful, needs to be recorded.

  I hear the door swing open, but pay it no mind, until I hear Lily excitedly shout out the word Daddy. Curiosity has me turning around, and shock turns me into stone.

  He doesn’t notice me, completely enamoured by his daughter. They animatedly talk to one another, her little arms dragging him over to the line of paintings hung up on the wall.

  I can’t take my eyes off him. I peruse the view in front of me, the body of a stranger, the hardened stance of a man. He’s aged. The boy I remember and the little things I know about him seem distant, and almost non-existent.

  As if he can feel me staring, he turns around; his shock a mirror image of my own. Like a switch has been flicked, he walks towards me on autopilot, everything else falling into the background. The air is thick, tight, and suffocating, as the memories good and bad bounce between us. Hurt. Lies. Hate. I lean into the wall, allowing it to support my surprise at his closeness. It’s the only thing reminding me where I am, and why he’s in my space.

  A five o’clock shadow adorns his chiselled jaw, and his short golden brown hair looks like he’s been running his hands through it for days. His clothes are neat and pressed, but his face is unfiltered exhaustion. His features are the perfect marriage of harsh and handsome. Everything the same. Everything so different. My heart squeezes with the slightest hint of worry, my natural instinct to care, momentarily overriding the deep-seated tension.

  I never thought I’d see him again. I never had any desire to think past the pain, and humiliation he caused me. The closer he gets, the harder my heart beats against my chest. It’s not fear, but nervousness. Taken aback by his blatant disregard for the time and the place, and much more obvious, our history.

  Face to face, his ice blue eyes penetrate through my thick skin, and my guarded thoughts. Rimmed with a colour that resembles the ocean, the contrast of light and dark in his stare, the epitome of time passing, and things changing.

  “Sasha?” My name is an incredulous question that leaves his lips and travels straight down my spine. Goosebumps grace my skin, and I’m stunned his presence has the power to render me motionless, instead of my legs leading me to the dramatic exit he so rightfully deserves.

  My mouth doesn’t work, unable to separate the past from the present, but as he balances Lily on his hip, looking like a man every woman would want warming her bed, I desperately wish I could.

  It’s been years. Long enough that he doesn’t matter. Shouldn’t matter. Yet here I am, that same young and naive girl, who fell down the rabbit hole, believing she had a friend in him. Hoping with all she had, he would make it all better.

  I was wrong. So very wrong. And I’ve paid dearly for the trust I gave him so freely.

  “Mum.” Dakota’s voice cuts right through the layers between us, and we both turn to face the door.

  “Hey, honey.” I glance back at him, watching him notice her. “Just wait for me in the office.”

  Oblivious to what she’s just walked in on, she waves at the other staff members and waltzes right back out. He looks back at me, wide-eyed, even more shocked than when he saw me. “Looking at her is like winding back the clock.”

  His reference to what was is the shake I need to remember I’m at work, and he’s a parent. Nothing more. Nothing less. I put my professional mask in place, and pretend this is the first time we’ve ever met. “Is Lily enjoying her time here?”

  His face twists in confusion, obviously expecting a different response. “She loves it.”

  “And Max?”

  “Max?” he repeats.

  “Lily’s mum.”

  “Oh.” He runs his hand over his face. “She isn’t Lily’s mum.”

  I bite my tongue. It’s none of my business, and I don’t care. I don’t. I repeat the two words over and over until I find the courage to end the conversation. “I have to go,” I say, pointing at the direction of Dakota and the door. “I’m really glad Lily is happy here.”

  He grabs my wrist, and I flinch. He looks apologetic, but he doesn’t let go. “Thanks for fitting her in.”


  I nod, and he releases his grip. I walk away. Fast. Determined.

  My footsteps finally cross the threshold, the door swinging behind me. The connection officially broken. I lean against the wall in the hallway, My chest heavy, my legs weak, my head a mess. If I could run into hiding I would, but I keep my calm, refusing to let his presence get any more attention than what's just passed.

  I finally regain the strength to head to my office, and walk straight into Holly and Dakota arguing about who is hotter, Blair Waldorf or Serena van der Woodsen. Grateful they're distracted, I begin to pack up my things, itching to get out of these four walls.

  “Holly, could you go help out in the Junior Room. I'm not feeling too well, and I rushed out, leaving Natalia on her own.”

  “Are you okay?” She looks me up and down, and I keep my head down refusing to meet her scrutiny.

  “I'm fine. Just a sudden migraine. Dakota wants to get dinner, and I'm not feeling too well.”

  “Mum, I’m fine to wait,” Dakota interrupts. “It’s still early.”

  “Let’s just go,” I say harshly. My clipped response shuts them both down, and I know I’m not fooling anyone. Holly heads one way, while Dakota and I head the other.

  I wait in the car for her while she picks up our sushi order, my head resting back against the seat as I process seeing Jay Evans for the first time since the night I gave him my virginity.

  In a world where nothing turned out the way I planned, I should’ve known any time spent with Jay would work against me. I had been warned away from him since the beginning of time; Hendrix and Jagger hating him for reasons I was never privy to. But blind loyalty had me in their corner until their corner was too suffocating.

  Hendrix and I were young, and I had broken us up. To everyone on the outside, it was puppy love and should’ve been easy to get over. To us, it was everything. I was overwhelmed by the intensity of our feelings for one another and I ran. I ran away from my best friends. From my love. From everything I ever knew, and I ran straight into the arms of the enemy.

  The decision to give myself to him on a silver platter was all mine. I wanted to. The idea of being just another reckless teenager, became more and more appealing with every day spent together. There was no expectation, no worry of letting him down. And while the little voice in my head told me he was bad news, I never expected to feel anything when I was with him. I thought my heart and mind were protected, that the only thing that could make me hurt was the boy I truly loved. But as usual, I was wrong.

  I couldn’t even tell you when I started viewing Jay as a friend. When our initial fuck you to the world turned into something I relied on. A companionship I enjoyed. Stupidly, I began to trust him, thinking what we shared in our own little bubble was real. Slowly, we opened up to one another. He was unlike anyone I’d ever known. On the outside, he was rough and unwelcoming, but on the inside, he was like lava. Dangerous to touch. Captivating to look at.

  Days turned to weeks, and weeks turned to months, Jay and I were the world’s best-kept secret. Turns out while he became my safety net, I became his game. And with all the precision, and expertise a young, determined man could muster, he played me.

  He pulls back when I don’t return the kiss. “Too much?” he whispers against my mouth.

  I shake my head. “No, just unexpected. I’ve never kissed anyone but—”

  “Hendrix,” he huffs. “I know.”

  “I’m sorry.” I turn my face to the side and step back. Hendrix has become a touchy subject for Jay. I guess he’s over hearing how much I miss him, and how heartbroken I am.

  He grabs my chin and turns my face back to him. “Don’t apologise. It’s just a kiss, nothing more, nothing less. It’s okay if you don’t feel comfortable with me.”

  The words that leave his mouth are sympathetic, but I know Jay well enough to hear the challenge. Something inside me rises to it. I want to forget about Hendrix, don’t I? Could I? Maybe just for a little bit. Leaning forward I press my lips to his and wait for him to finish what he started.

  Showing off his age and experience, he tilts his head to the side to get better access to my mouth. His tongue teases the edge of my lips, and I open wider to let him in. My movements are tentative, and his are patient. For a moment in time, I let myself feel the kiss. Believe the attraction, and feed into the hope that maybe I won’t always feel so messed up. Maybe I’ve just found a way to stop the cracks in my heart from becoming permanent breaks.

  As we both chase our unnamed needs, the kiss deepens. Leaning into me, I take his hint and fall back onto his bed. I’ve been in his house, and this room, more times than I can count. The only place without eyes, opinions, and judgements, it seems fitting that we’re here exploring a world where only he and I exist.

  Cautious not to push us any farther than what he promised, his body hovers over mine. His forearms bear most of his upper weight, while his legs effortlessly slip between mine. Hungrily, we taste one another, the knots in my body loosening with every stroke of his tongue.

  The only teenager I knew with a mobile phone, the shrill ring echoes throughout the room. In no rush to get it, he unlocks his lips from mine and looks down at me. His blue eyes bore through me, his impenetrable wall back up, and between us. “You do alright for someone who’s only ever kissed one boy.” My face heats up at his taunt, and I want nothing more than his bed to swallow me whole. Most of the time his age never comes into play, the two years he has on me, nothing more than a number. But lying underneath him, I'm reminded of my inexperience and my immaturity. “I have to get that, but I want to do this again sometime. Maybe more?”

  The question sits above us like a thick rain cloud, my answers threatening to burst. I want to say no. I want to tell him I don't think I'm ready for whatever he thinks is going to happen between us, or that I'd be any good at it. I want him to know I'm saving myself for the right guy, that I'm in love with someone else. But then I remember, the reason I started hanging out with Jay in the first place; he doesn't care about that stuff, and neither should I.

  I give him a soft, shy peck on the lips before meeting his stare. “I think I'd like that.”

  4

  Jay

  Finally putting Lily to bed, I tell Max I need an early night. Even though it isn’t too far from the truth, what I really want is a few minutes of silence to process seeing Sasha after all this time.

  Every now and then I would think about what I would say to her if I ever saw her again. There were wants and needs I had regarding my life before Lily, but none I ever thought would have the potential to come to fruition. Apologising to Sasha Allman has always been very high on that list.

  I pushed everything about her to the very recesses of my mind because it was easier. My mind was less messy that way, but now, seeing her in the flesh… I can’t get the image of her staring at me out of my head. Questions plague me, wondering why I never thought to reach out to her. Why with all the technology the world had to offer, I didn’t try and send her an olive branch.

  Even with her hardened and confused stare, she’s more beautiful than I ever remember. When we were younger, I was attracted to her innocence and her chastity. She seemed like a good conquest at first, a notch I so desperately wanted on my belt. But then the ruse fell to the wayside, and she became something to me. Something real, something intriguing. Something that chipped away at that useless organ I called a heart.

  She was sincere in a way that made me feel like her presence could cleanse the dirt and grime I wore every day. And for a little bit, she did. She didn’t judge me or begrudge me for the life I led. She listened when I spoke, and comforted me when I needed it. She was the only person who knew that the purple and blue patterns on my skin were from my father, and not a result of the embellished confrontations with street kids that I spewed as a cover-up.

  In return, I distracted her from herself with the only things I knew; drugs and sex. It wasn’t ideal, and I knew better, but I didn’t care. She was li
ke a caged bird, closed in by her huge list of insecurities, desperate to forget about them and fly. Surprisingly, I wanted to be the one to give her wings. I offered her every high at my disposal, enjoying the way she became addicted to the freedom. Addicted to me.

  My heart was black and hers was white. Together we were every single shade of grey, giving life to the everything in between. We revelled in the reasons we were mismatched, and succumbed to the freedom to do as we want, and be the versions of ourselves we hid from the world.

  In an imperfect situation, she was perfect. Until, I did what I do best, and let anger take the reins of my life. All it took was one night. One reminder from Hendrix and Jagger Michaels that she was theirs and the challenge was wordlessly accepted. From that moment on, my mask was back in place. Hendrix and Jagger had loaded me up with ammunition, and Sasha became my target. Unfortunately for me, I just didn’t expect to feel the hit too.

  When I turned in her direction at Lily’s school, I expected to find someone staring at me. I could feel it, the heat of eyes boring into my back. But not in a million years did I expect it to be her. Standing there, her back pressed against the wall; my eyes left no inch of her untouched. Amazed that after all this time she was in front of me, I couldn’t do anything else but devour her.

  Giving her an extra once over, I allowed myself to indulge in the natural pull between man and woman. She’d been a pretty young thing, but now, gorgeous wasn’t even accurate enough to describe the woman in front of me. Long, blonde hair, cherry lips, and a toned body that even the plainest work uniform couldn’t hide. She was the woman of every man’s dreams.

  My legs moved like they had a mind of their own, invading her space like I had a right to even look at her after the way I treated her. In that moment I was torn between a man who was attracted to her and a sixteen-year-old boy who desperately wanted to make things right. It was all on the tip of my tongue. The questions, the apologies, the excuses I knew wouldn’t make a difference. Then and there I wanted to come clean, and I wanted her to forgive me. I wanted her to ease my newly found conscience, and then the hot-blooded man in me wanted to fuck her.