Hold on to Hope

by Jackson, A. L.

  Those cinnamon eyes glistened and glimmered.

  Grief and love.

  Grief and love.

  Warm honey sprinkled with the hottest flecks of red.

  Mouth painted a dizzying, sparkling pink.

  I needed to get my physical reaction to her under control.

  But that was the thing about going without what you craved most for years.

  It made you half mad, delirious with the need.

  I swallowed hard, hands curling into fists to keep from driving greedy fingers into her hair. “That’s because we belong together.”

  More of that laughter.

  Barking and harsh.

  Could feel the sharpness of it slice across my skin.

  She dropped her gaze to the ground with a shake of her head before she looked up so I could read her lips. “You’re right. We did. But it’s too late for that now, isn’t it?”

  It wasn’t a question.

  But I was answering it like it was. “No. Fuck no, Frankie.”

  “It is.”

  I surged forward and gripped her by one hip, our bodies pressed together.

  Her breaths turned shallow, the girl’s chest heaving, her tongue darting out to swipe across the moisture still wetting her lips.

  Wanted to trace it with mine.

  Kiss this girl the way that I used to.

  My hand burrowed deeper into her flesh. “You’re wrong, Frankie Leigh. There is no amount of time that could ever erase who you are to me.”

  Frankie gulped, her delicate throat tremoring, and she lifted that fierce chin that she’d always worn.

  “I have a boyfriend, Evan. I’ve moved on.” She glanced over my shoulder before she returned her gaze to me. “And clearly, you have, too.”

  The words were frail.

  Feeble in their defense.

  Still, I felt the impact of them like a kick to the gut.

  Giving Frankie the chance to move on, for her to find the kind of life she deserved, had been the whole goddamn point. So she could have a family. So she didn’t have to wait around for the day that I died.

  But facing the reality of it was like the blunt stab of a knife.

  She took advantage of my shock and stumbled back, trying to pry herself away from the energy that rippled and shook and circled us like a black storm.

  Terrifying and beautiful.

  Our connection had always been that way.

  Almost too much because living without each other was nothing but devastation.

  Sniffling, she stepped back and dropped her attention to the ground, trying to gather herself before she turned her gaze back to me.

  In the depths of it, I saw a thousand lies. A million truths.

  I watched the mess of them move on her mouth. “I’m so glad you’re back, Evan. And I truly, honestly hope you’re happy. I hope that you’ve found love, and I hope even more that sweet boy has filled up the vacant places I know existed in your soul.” She brushed her fingertips over my chest. “I don’t know any of the details of your life, but I really hope someday we can remedy that and we can be friends again. But I hope you know, after everything, that’s the only thing we can be.”

  Then Frankie turned and fumbled for her car like she couldn’t stay standing there for a second longer without crumbling.

  Her argument valid but completely false.

  She struggled to open her car door, and I stood there watching her trying to get away.

  Maybe that was the second I realized neither of us could ever get that far.

  “Frankie,” I called, knowing her name had to have cracked with the way it scraped my raw throat.

  She froze, and I waited until she finally twisted around to look at me.

  That gorgeous face staring back.

  Fuck.

  I had no idea what the hell I thought I was doing. But I couldn’t stop the statement from bleeding free. My hands moving powerfully with the importance of what I had to say.

  I KNOW I HURT YOU, FRANKIE. I KNOW IT. AND I KNOW I KEEP SAYING I’M SORRY, BUT THE TRUTH IS, I AM. I’VE BEEN SORRY EVERY SINGLE DAY.

  My head angled in emphasis.

  YOU REALLY THINK THERE’S A CHANCE THAT I’VE MOVED ON? YOU REALLY THINK THAT’S POSSIBLE? THERE HASN’T BEEN A SINGLE DAY SINCE THE DAY I MET YOU THAT I DIDN’T LOVE YOU, FRANKIE LEIGH.

  I kept moving closer as I signed.

  SO YOU CAN GET IN YOUR CAR AND DRIVE AWAY. YOU CAN GO BACK TO WHOEVER IT IS WHO IS WAITING FOR YOU. BUT AT THE END OF THE DAY? HE’S NOT ME.

  Frankie shivered from where she watched me at her car, standing in her open door. I swallowed down the pain. The regrets. Everything I’d done.

  YOU BELONG WITH ME. JUST LIKE I BELONG WITH YOU.

  An instant of the fear I’d been wearing for years attempted to rise to the surface with the confession.

  I shoved it back down.

  Because that cowardice no longer had a place.

  It was no longer welcome.

  Frankie stared back like she was terrified because she knew it was the truth. Without responding, she finally tore herself from the tether that tied and fumbled into the driver’s seat of her car.

  She started it and lurched out onto the road.

  I looked back to the café where I knew my son was waiting with my mom as Frankie Leigh was accelerating down the street.

  Everything crystallized in that moment.

  My reason.

  My purpose.

  Everett and Frankie Leigh.

  Everett and Frankie Leigh.

  And I finally knew exactly what it was that I was supposed to be fighting for.

  * * *

  “You’re going.” Mom was all smiles as we finished off the desserts at one of the lobby tables. My pulse was still beating a little too hard from the interaction with Frankie Leigh fifteen minutes before.

  Anxious and excited.

  But for the first time in three years, it felt like it might be beating right.

  “That’s final.” Mom grinned.

  I shook my head, unable to believe I was actually considering this. “Uh, think we’re going to have to sit this one out.”

  Pushing up to standing, she leaned over and set her hand on my cheek. “You sat out the last three years. There is no chance I’m letting you get away with that this year, too.”

  There might have been a hint of playfulness spinning through her eyes, but I also heard the relevance of it.

  She needed us there.

  To reestablish some of the traditions we’d lost.

  The holidays and the celebrations and the family gatherings that I’d missed more than I’d wanted to admit.

  My gaze moved to Everett who’d basically been painted blue—cheeks and lips and teeth and hands.

  YOU THINK HE’LL BE OKAY?

  Reassurance filled Mom’s expression. So maybe it was readily clear that I had no idea what the hell I was doing. Best I could do was figure it out along the way.

  YES. ABSOLUTELY.

  Softness tugged at one side of her mouth. “Everyone has been bringing their babies out to the lake for years. The first time your sister went, she was four months old. He’ll love it. I promise.”

  Everett banged at the table, babbling one of his songs that I felt vibrate to my bones.

  I jerked when something nailed me on the shoulder, and I whipped around to watch as a wad of crumpled paper tumbled to the floor. My gaze traveled the rest of the way to the culprit.

  Carly who was standing behind the counter.

  Busted.

  She didn’t even care. She just grinned. “Frankie’s going to be there.”

  I heaved out a sigh. I wondered if that was going to be half the problem. Not sure either of us were ready for that. Not sure how I was supposed to be in her space and act like it was chill and good and we were only friends when I was dying to get us right back to where we’d been before it’d fallen apart.

  Old fears flickered. Feelings of selfishness and inad
equacy.

  I ignored them.

  I wasn’t going back there.

  Not ever.

  Mom’s brow lifted in hope.

  I blew out a heavy breath. FINE. WE’LL GO.

  Mom clapped and jumped around like she was twelve, swooping in to dot a kiss to Everett’s nose, kid laughing and laughing and laughing.

  Joy bounding free.

  And I knew this was right.

  That he deserved to have this family. These amazing people surrounding him even when I still didn’t know what direction this was going to go.

  Maybe it was more unsettling now, knowing exactly where I wanted it to.

  I pushed to standing and dipped behind the counter to grab a towel, dampened it under the faucet, Carly watching me with a grin and knowing eyes.

  I rolled mine at her.

  I watched her silent chuckle.

  Forever the pot stirrer, and I couldn’t help but love her for it.

  I went back and cleaned off Everett’s hands and face, kid leaning his head back to try to get away. “It’s okay, buddy. We just need to clean you up. Then we’re going to go home.”

  Home.

  Emotion fisted and crashed.

  That’s what this place was. And I wasn’t going to give up until he was a permanent part of it.

  “We’re out of here.”

  Mom popped up and kissed Everett on the cheek then squeezed my hand. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

  I nodded. “Me, too, Mom. Truly.”

  Her smile was soft and a little sad, and I waved a hand over my head toward Carly who was helping a customer before I ducked out the door and headed to my car. I slowed when I saw the white paint on the side window.

  FREAK.

  Instantly, my attention whipped around, doing a complete three-sixty of our surroundings. Searching as my throat closed off. Rage and fear becoming one, a violence unlike anything I’d felt before jumping into my bloodstream as I looked for the asshole who’d stopped me outside the café.

  People strolled the sidewalks, scrolled through their phones, came in and out of stores, headed toward their destinations without any care of mine.

  Dude was gone.

  Thin air.

  Unsettled, I cast another look, finally giving up and buckling Everett into his seat. I set my hand on his chest like some kind of instinct, needing to hear it beat.

  Maybe it was a little obsessive.

  I didn’t care.

  I wasn’t taking any chances.

  I used my shirt to wipe off the paint before I climbed into the driver’s seat and drove the ten minutes back to my parents’ house.

  By the time I was pulling into the drive, the fury had lessened by a degree.

  That was until I saw some guy I’d never seen before sitting on the porch steps.

  Dark styled hair and nice jeans and a printed t-shirt.

  Didn’t matter that he looked totally innocuous. Younger than me. Arms rested on his knees.

  That ferocity still lingering from the asshole at the café instantly came galloping back.

  Muscles flexing and bowing in a sharp swell of protectiveness.

  I glanced at Everett in the rear-view mirror. He was jabbering incessantly, fisted hand bobbing in the air, completely oblivious that anything could be amiss.

  On guard, I came to a stop, not sure if I should throw it in reverse and get the hell out of there or gun it and just do away with the possible threat.

  I forced myself to cool it. To take a deep breath. Overreacting wasn’t going to solve anything.

  The guy on the porch steps slowly stood. He appeared uneasy, though nonaggressive. I turned off the car and stepped out, keeping my attention pinned on him the whole time.

  The guy slanted his head. “Are you Evan?”

  I gave a tight nod. “Yeah.”

  He exhaled a tense breath. “I’m Chris, Ashley’s brother.”

  Didn’t know if it was relief or apprehension that hit me hardest.

  I studied him, realizing why something about him felt vaguely familiar. “Is she okay?”

  “I was hoping you could answer that.”

  Warily, I edged back to the passenger door, unbuckled Everett, and picked him up.

  When I shut the door, Chris’s gaze moved over my son.

  I held him a little tighter, fighting the urge to fucking run and hide him away, not having the first clue what this guy’s intentions were.

  Air huffed out of Chris’s nose, and he minutely shook his head. “She left him with you?”

  Part of me wanted to be pissed that he’d known about Everett before I had.

  “Yeah,” I found myself answering again.

  “That’s good.”

  I angled my head in question. “Why’s that?”

  He shrugged a little, roughed a hand through his hair as he stared out into the distance before he looked back at me. “She’s got issues, man. She’s a good girl, but she goes off the deep end every year or so. Severe depression. Was worried about her having a kid when she told me she got knocked up.”

  I flinched at the way he threw it out there.

  Couldn’t tell if this guy was just concerned for his sister or being a dick.

  But there was also a huge part of me that was feeling relieved. Gaining some perspective. That also meant the other half of me was certain I wasn’t going to like it when Ashley came out on the other side and wanted Everett back.

  I glanced down at the child who grinned up at me.

  My heart fisted.

  There was no going back.

  “She seemed . . . distraught. Like she was scared when she left him with me,” I chanced, hoping he could give me some insight on where to go from there.

  He shrugged again. “She does that. Gets paranoid.” His eyes narrowed. “You’re the deaf dude, right? Your voice is all screwed up.”

  Nice.

  “Yup. That’s me.”

  “She said you were cool.”

  I didn’t want to tell him that she didn’t even know me.

  I hugged Everett closer. “How did you find me?”

  He gave a small smile. “Last time I talked with her, she was talking about you, mentioned what town you’re from. She’d said something about maybe trying to find you. I hadn’t heard from her in a few weeks so I went to her place to check on her. When she wasn’t there, thought I’d take a chance and see if she’d hooked back up with her baby daddy. I was worried about the kid, but it looks like he’s fine.”

  Everett started fussing a bit, getting squirrelly in my hold. I shushed him, brought him to my chest, rubbed his back in attempt to calm him down. “And what about your sister?”

  “She’ll come around.”

  “And when she does?” Was sure it came out hard. Was sure he knew exactly what I was implying. What I was asking.

  He pursed his lips and shoved his hands into his pockets. “You got the means to take care of him?”

  Wasn’t so hard to figure out what he was implying, either.

  Money was the language of the corrupt.

  My arms tightened around Everett who was starting to cry, his head rocking back in his unrest, mouth twisted in a wail that I felt impale my skin. Something frantic bottled in my chest. This feeling coming over me that felt like an omen. Like I could taste something wicked and wrong riding in on the air.

  “Yeah.”

  “And you want him?”

  I hugged Everett like his life depended on it. Had the horrible sense that maybe it did. “Yeah.”

  He smirked. “I’m sure my sister could be handled then.”

  Was he serious?

  That’s what this was about? What Ashley wanted? It just . . . didn’t make sense. Not with the way she appeared that night.

  He strode toward me, angling to the side as he passed, turning around and walking backward when I whirled around to watch him go. “I’ll be around.” He jutted his chin toward Everett. “Since he’s here, I figure this is where she’s
gonna show.”

  Then he spun around and kept walking casually down the street.

  While I stood there feeling like I’d just got shoved off a bridge.

  No foundation underneath.

  And I had no fucking idea where I was supposed to land.

  Nine

  Frankie Leigh

  “Jack will be here in fifteen minutes. You need to get your lazy butt out of bed.”

  Groaning, I barely cracked open an eye from where I had been hiding under my pillow for the last three days.

  So yeah. I’d been calling in sick. It wasn’t exactly a lie. It wasn’t called heartbreak for nothin’.

  Carly leaned against my doorframe, sporting all kinds of judgment in her expression.

  “No, thanks.” It was nothing but chipper sarcasm before I was rolling over and dragging the pillow over my head.

  A disbelieving huff hit the room, her feet stomping on the floor as she stormed to the side of my bed.

  “It wasn’t a suggestion.” She ripped the pillow out of my hold and tossed it to the end of the mattress.

  “What the heck? That was so uncool. And here I thought you were supposed to be my best girlfriend. You are so fired,” I whined, flopping over onto my back with a pout.

  “Up.”

  “I already told you there is no chance in this whole wide world that I’m going. It’s not gonna happen. Forget it.”

  Carly crossed her arms over her chest. “Oh, it’s gonna happen if I have to drag you there myself.”

  On a moan, I flung my forearm over my eyes. “Remind me to kick you out.”

  “Please do. Turns out my roommate is prone to sudden bouts of self-pity and moping. It’s kind of gross. Almost as gross as her stinky ass that hasn’t seen a shower in three days. Seriously, Frankie, you’re gettin’ ripe. Josiah’s worried we’re goin’ to have to fumigate.”