by Tiffani Lynn
I slip my arm around her and pull her close to me, still doing my best not to hurt her with my cast and so thankful I got that shower yesterday. “It’s okay, I’m here. Just relax, honey.”
It takes a long time before she settles down enough for me to lean back and search her face. “You want to talk about it?”
“I never have those dreams anymore. I don’t know where it came from.” Her whole body shudders in an aftershock of fear.
“Scoot over. You know I won’t hurt you. Let me hold you.”
She studies me a little longer than I like, unsure if she should do it.
“Please? For me? Just watch out for this stupid cast. It’s heavy.”
I slide up into the corner of the couch and pull her against my chest. I rest my casted arm against her back while running my good hand over her hair in a soothing motion. Within a couple of minutes she relaxes fully against me and something deep inside, something I haven’t felt in years, warms. This is what it feels like to help another person, to soothe a hurt deep inside them. I forgot how much I loved being a person who could do that.
Her soft voice breaks the silence of the room. “The whole first year after my stepfather sold me to Jose and his people, I would fight it. I fought every man they locked me in the room with until it felt like they had killed my soul. The last man I ever fought told me how much he got off on the fight and that was what stopped me from doing it anymore. From that night on I just laid there and let them do what they were going to do because I didn’t want to give them anymore satisfaction than they were already getting from me.”
Rage builds in the same place she just warmed within me. How can a parental figure, someone who is supposed to protect her, give her over to that kind of hell?
“Don’t be angry. It was a while ago.”
I force my muscles to relax; I must have tensed up too much. She’s really in tune with everything about me it seems. “That’s a hard request to fill.”
“I didn’t tell you to upset you. I was trying to explain the dreams. I don’t get them often anymore. It’s just that sometimes I dream I’m back there in that time and place.”
“How do you make that go away?”
“Talk about it. I haven’t found a new therapist since I’ve been here and that’s who I usually talk this stuff through with.”
“What about your sister?”
“No, I’ve only told her once what happened to me, and even then, I didn’t give her details. She already feels guilty that it was me and not her. What she doesn’t understand is I’d go through it all over again to keep her from experiencing one minute of it.”
I hold her as close to me as I can. Rosie’s protective nature and strength, despite what she’s been through, make her so much more beautiful than she already is.
“Why aren’t you married or at least dating someone seriously?” I ask, not understanding how someone as pretty and wonderful as she is doesn’t have someone who loves her more than life.
“Are you kidding?”
“Rosie, you’re beautiful, sweet, protective and smart.”
“But I’m broken,” she whispers.
“No. You were broken, but you’re not anymore.”
“How can you say that after seeing what I go through sometimes when I sleep? That doesn’t even count the stuff that goes through my head more often.”
“Because you still get up and go to a homeless shelter to decorate for Christmas. You still spend time with your sister and her family. You moved your life from Dallas to Colorado to be with family. If you were still broken, you wouldn’t have been able to do any of those things. Don’t get me wrong, I know there are still cracks in your armor. It’s impossible to survive what you did without them, but you’re still moving forward. I don’t remember the last time I moved forward.”
She pulls back a little to look at me. “You came to the shelter for help, you stayed in a hospital for two nights, you agreed to come here, and you’re providing a seriously cracked human being some comfort. Can’t this be your starting point?”
I’m not sure I’m capable of moving forward but I don’t say that out loud. I want to enjoy this moment because with the mess that my head is, I doubt I’ll get another. “I don’t know.”
Instead of questioning me she readjusts so she’s resting against me again. God, this feels so good.
We must fall asleep because I wake when the light beyond the windows is gone and a phone is ringing in another room. Rosie climbs from my lap and rushes toward the kitchen.
“Hello?” After a short pause she answers. “Yeah, I’m fine. I took a nap… Okay. Yeah. Fine, see you in a few.”
She hangs up the phone and pushes the stray pieces of hair away from her face with two hands. I stand because it’s time for me to use the restroom, but I stop when I see the look on her face.
“What’s wrong?”
“My sister and her family are on their way over now.”
“Okay.” I’m not understanding why she looks so stressed.
“They’re concerned so they’re coming over to check things out.”
“Makes sense.” I walk toward the bathroom.
“They don’t trust my judgment. I don’t want them to scare you back out onto the street.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. Besides, I told you I’d try. Don’t stress. They care about you.”
I go to the bathroom and do my business, and when I come back out Rosie isn’t anywhere to be seen but I can hear her moving around upstairs. She comes back downstairs as the doorbell rings. When she answers it, I stand back, waiting to see what she wants me to do.
Dex comes through the door holding one baby and a diaper bag. Mari follows with the other baby and a bag from the local fried chicken place. I reach for the bag Mari is carrying and set it on the counter. While Dex drops the diaper bag on the floor by the love seat and readjusts the little girl in his arms, Rosie takes the little boy from her sister and blows raspberries on his cheek. He giggles and slaps her face.
“Rosie, I’m going to pick up these magazines and set them higher or Mandy will eat them.”
“Whatever you need to do. I know she’s getting into everything, so it’s fine.”
Rosie looks at the boy in her arms and asks, “Andy, when are you going to start walking? Your sister will leave you in the dust if you don’t do something about that.” He grabs her ponytail and yanks while babbling nonsense to her. She looks like she was made to hold babies. The smile on her face reflects complete and utter joy, and the warmth she shares is amazing. I must be staring at her too long because Dex speaks from right next to me. I didn’t even know he’d approached me. I’m usually much more aware than that.
“Her heart is too sweet for her own good,” Dex rumbles next to me, leaning his shoulder against the wall as he watches the ladies.
“Agreed. She’s a good person.”
“You’re a Marine?”
I turn to him and nod. He obviously did the background check.
“You don’t have a record.” He says it like he’s surprised.
“Nope.”
“Full disability from the VA?”
“Yup.”
“Then why do you live on the street?” Dex asks the question I get more often than I like to answer it.
“If I weren’t staying with your sister-in-law I wouldn’t answer that. My time in Iraq made it difficult for me to sleep in enclosed spaces. It also left me with a failure to trust almost anyone. Rosie’s the first person I’ve trusted in over seven years.”
“Her safety is one of my top concerns in life. If something happens to her, my wife will never recover.”
“I have no plan or reason to ever hurt her.”
“For some reason I believe that.” We stare at each other for a long moment before he waltzes over to his wife and takes Mandy back. Mari, now without a kid attached to her, sits in the chair and rubs her belly. “We find out what this little monster is next week. Can you bel
ieve I’m going to have three kids under the age of two? I’m an idiot.”
Dex leans over her and kisses her forehead. “Not an idiot. You’re my beautiful wife.”
Rosie tosses a balled-up napkin at them and giggles. “Maybe if you were less beautiful, you’d be less pregnant.”
“Rosanna!” Mari squeals. “Don’t embarrass me.”
Dex chuckles behind them and looks at me still standing in the same place. “Come on over and eat. I don’t know if you’ve had this chicken before, but it’s amazing.”
I make my way over and join them. There’s not much for me to say so I listen as Rosie and Mari chat about people I don’t know and a ranch where Mari works when she’s not too pregnant. With Mari’s multicolored hair and tattoos I’d picture her working in a bar more than a horse ranch, but after observing her with her family, I’ve noticed she has a sweet, calming demeanor. I bet the animals love her.
“Cyrus. That’s an interesting name,” Mari says as she takes another bite of her chicken.
I’m surprised no one asked sooner. I’ve always gotten shit for my name. “I’m named after my grandpa on my dad’s side. It was a popular southern name back in the day. The men in my family have weird names. My dad is Baker. My uncle is Claude.” I shrug, used to the oddity.
“Not weird,” Rosie says quietly. “Unique.”
I smile at her softly. Leave it to this sweet woman to find something nice to say.
When Mandy starts to get fussy and nothing any of them does settles her down, Dex and Mari pack up to leave. As they’re saying their goodbyes, Dex looks to me and says, “If you need anything, you can call me.”
Mari’s and Rosie’s heads both swing around to stare at him open-mouthed in shock.
He glances between them. “What? Is it so inconceivable that I could help someone?”
Rosie moves in front of Dex and goes up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek and whisper something in his ear that softens his expression. I’d like to know what she said and I’d love to have her whispering in my ear.
Damn. I need to stop thinking that kind of stuff. I’m a guy with a world of problems and nothing to offer. Men like me don’t get the sweetness women like Rosie have to offer. Being here with her makes me hope for things I shouldn’t. I wave and choke back the envy at the love and affection this family openly shows one another.
As soon as they’re gone and the door is shut and locked, Rosie relaxes against the wall like she can’t bear to stand on her feet for another minute.
“I love them with all my heart but those babies wear me out. I can’t imagine what a traveling zoo they will be once Andy and Mandy are walking without holding onto anything and they have the new baby.”
“You do well with them, though. You’ll be able to help a lot.”
“Is it sad that I’m just as happy to see them go as I am to have them come over? Maybe it’s because that nap only touched the surface of my exhaustion.”
“I don’t think it’s sad, it’s just honest. Besides, you didn’t tell your sister that. You shared it with me, so it doesn’t even count for anything.”
“I think I need to turn in for the night.” She walks into the kitchen to finish picking up the little bit of mess left over from our chicken dinner and I follow to help.
When she turns the water on and pulls out a rag, I reach out my good hand to her. “Here, let me wipe down the table.”
“You don’t have to do that. You’re supposed to be resting.”
“Wiping a table won’t kill me.”
Reluctantly she passes me the damp rag after she squeezes it out. I begin wiping down the counters and then move to the table. After she throws the last of the trash away, she pauses and asks, “If I go to bed, will you still be here in the morning? I have this weird feeling in my gut that you’ve been waiting for me to fall asleep again so you can leave.”
She stares at her feet instead of me, like she was nervous to ask me.
“I told you I’d try and I will. I won’t leave in the middle of the night. Besides, so far, I don’t feel trapped being here. I can’t explain it, but it’s the first time in a long time that I have hope I’ll be able to sleep, even with the arm pain.”
Rosie’s eyes lift to meet mine and I get the full force of her smile as she aims it my way. “Okay. Tomorrow we’ll wrap your arm up so you can shower yourself. Any chance you’ll consider a haircut?”
I lift my eyebrow at her. “I’m going back to the street eventually and long hair is warm.”
She nods. “Okay, it was worth a try.”
“If you’re willing to do the cutting, I’ll cut some off so I don’t look quite so scary.”
Her smile is a reward in and of itself. “I used to cut Uriah’s hair. I’m not great at it but I’m not bad either. I’m going to put a new toothbrush and toothpaste in your bathroom upstairs. There are towels and washcloths in the closet in there too if you want to use them. Mari said she put a bag of clothes on the bed for you. Tomorrow we can wash whatever you have in your backpack and the stuff you have on now. Do you want to stay up longer or are you going to bed too?”
“I think I’ll go to bed also.”
I follow her up the stairs, my body beginning to register an extreme level of tired. We part ways at the top of the stairs. When she reaches her bedroom door I call to her and she pauses and turns to me.
“Thank you, Rosie, for all you’ve done. Your kindness means everything.”
The most beautiful smile spreads on her face and I’m momentarily cemented into place by how it makes me feel. Pleased, happy, and warm inside.
“Goodnight, Cy.”
“Night, Rosie.”
She goes into her room and shuts the door. I stand there for a moment, wishing she would stay there and smile a little longer, before finally going into the room and finding the bag bursting with clothes Mari left for me. I browse through the pile and find a pair of flannel pajama pants and a long-sleeve T-shirt, so I pull them out and remove the tags. Shit, I can’t get the tags off with my left hand. I grip them in my hand and approach Rosie’s room, knocking once I reach the door.
A moment later she answers the door. Gorgeous layers of chocolate-colored hair lie over top of a black satin robe with red poppies all over it. I knew she would be off the charts stunning with her hair down but add satin to the mix and suddenly blood is pumping to the wrong location again. Damn it.
“You okay, Cy?”
I shake my head to clear it of the pornographic images it’s conjured all of a sudden. “Can you help me remove the tags? I can’t get them with my left hand. I also need help taking my shirt off. I’m sorry, I know you’re tired.”
“That’s what I’m here for. It’s not a big deal.” She leads me into her bathroom where she pulls out a pair of scissors and snips the tags off. Then she sets the clothes on the counter and helps me remove my shirt. Once the garment is over my head and in my hand, I feel Rosie’s fingers graze the large bruise on my side where the baseball bat connected at least once. Chills rise in the wake of her fingers and a little groan slips out. How embarrassing. She’s helping me and I’m acting like a horny teenager. Ridiculous.
“These bruises are so much worse today. I know that happens but it always surprises me. It’s amazing you weren’t hurt worse than you are.”
I need to get out of this room; being close to her has awakened a very manly feeling inside me and I don’t want to spook her. That would be a shitty way to repay her kindness.
7
Rosie
Cy took off out of my room quickly. I mean, it’s not like I can blame him. I practically molested him when I was taking his shirt off. I couldn’t seem to help myself when I touched his bare skin. The bruises were horrible, but it wasn’t that. It was just this uncontrollable urge to touch him, to feel his skin. I’m a horrible person and I probably freaked him out. Damn, I need to keep my distance. You’d think I’ve never been attracted to a man before with the way I’m acting around this guy.
I have, of course, but I never acted on it. After my early history with men I wasn’t sure if I could handle getting into a relationship with one, especially a sexual relationship. Everything that happened to me couldn’t be kept a secret from a lover in case I were to trigger in the middle of sex. That’s a lot to put on a person. I mean, it would be awkward enough stopping things to have the conversation. But then again, I can’t figure out when a good time to broach the subject ahead of time would be either. It really is better that I’m alone.
I pull off the robe and lay it at the foot of the bed in case I need it at some point in the night. It doesn’t take long once I’m settled between the sheets for my eyes to grow heavy enough for sleep, so I give in to the feeling and slip into dreamland.
I awaken for seemingly no reason, a little disoriented. What time is it? I glance over at the clock on my nightstand and see that it’s two in the morning. Wondering if Cy is sleeping okay, I slip out of bed and slide my robe back on and tie the sash at my waist. Then I creep out of my room and over to his room. I don’t have to worry about knocking because the door is open. The curtains are open and with the moonlight shining in through the window, I can see that the bed is empty.
Worry that he left while I was asleep creeps in and my heart begins to pound heavily in my chest. I turn and race down the stairs, ready to go out into the night looking for him if necessary, but halt in my tracks when I find him sitting on the couch staring out the living room windows.
“Cy?” I say quietly so I don’t startle him.
“What are you doing up?”
“I don’t know. I just woke up and knew something wasn’t right. What are you doing awake?”
“Walls felt too close in there so I came down here where I could see outside. I’m fighting the urge to leave.”
The tone of his voice makes my heart ache. Without thought I go to the couch and sit next to him on his left side. He doesn’t move or say anything else so I look over and find his eyes squinted in concentration. He’s having some kind of crazy inner battle and I don’t want him to feel alone so I reach over and grab hold of his hand, lacing my fingers through his. He grips my hand tight, but not painfully so, almost a silent thank you for sitting with him. The moonlight is bright through the big windows but you can still see a few stars out there. I know because I leave my curtains open to sleep too; it’s peaceful to look out at that scenery, even in the dark.
