Warrior Blue

by Kelsey Kingsley

  “We?” I snorted, threading my fingers with hers and questioning if anything had felt this good before. If anything could feel this good ever again. “What’s with this we bullshit?”

  She nodded, eyelids heavy with booze and lust. “Yep, we. We’re a we now.”

  My heart thumped annoyingly in my throat as I let her lead me. “Oh, we are, huh? When was I gonna know about this?”

  Audrey’s lips spread with her knowing smile. “Don’t tell me you didn’t already know.”

  Fate. God.

  Signs.

  “Fine,” I relented. “I won’t.”

  Slowly, we walked in silence for a few more seconds, quietly enjoying the air and ambience of a city we both shared a love for. Then, she tugged me down a residential street, over cracked sidewalks and beneath trees decorated in red and gold, and I realized I didn’t know where we were headed.

  We. I allowed a smile at the thought, squeezed her hand, and asked, “Where are you taking me?”

  “I want you to see where I live,” she answered.

  “You live in Salem, too?”

  Audrey nodded. “Yep.”

  “For how long?”

  “Well,” she released my hand and wrapped an arm around mine, “let me think. I’m twenty-six now, so—”

  “You’re twenty-six?” I interrupted.

  Giggling, she pressed her cheek to my arm. “Yes, why? Does that matter?”

  “Nah, not really. I just wasn’t aware I was a fucking cradle robber,” I groaned around a short chuckle, rolling my eyes toward the sky.

  “You’re not that much older than me,” she giggled, hugging my arm.

  “Old enough,” I muttered.

  Sighing, she continued, “Anyway, apart from the few years I was in college, I’ve been here my whole life.”

  “How have I not seen you before?”

  Snickering, she shook her head. “You probably wouldn’t have noticed me if you had.”

  I didn’t say it, but that was bullshit. To not notice her would’ve been to ignore the sun. It was impossible.

  We stopped at an old, red brick Victorian, trimmed in white with a black stained-glass door. The wrap-around porch was littered with wicker furniture and was decorated with cobwebs and hanging skeletons. An impressively realistic cemetery was set-up on the lawn among a handful of scattered bones and dead leaves.

  I tucked my hands into my pockets, unable to contain my grin. This was my kind of place, not unlike my own, and I shook my head at the man I was weeks ago. The man who’d taken one look at her and made assumptions based on appearance alone.

  “I think I misjudged you,” I admitted sheepishly.

  Leading me up the walkway, she replied, “Well, in your defense, I don’t really look the part.”

  Then, as we stepped onto the porch, she lowered her voice and said, “Now, we have to be quiet. The house is broken up into a few apartments and they’re light sleepers.”

  “Noted,” I muttered with a nod, and she unlocked the door.

  Inside, it was dark, save for a small lamp near the staircase, but even in the dim light, I knew it was a history buff’s wet dream. Carved crown molding, scrolled newel post, and creaking hardwood floors. My mouth was practically salivating as I stood still, waiting for Audrey to lead the way, when I quickly heard another door open.

  “Okay,” she whispered, grabbing my arm. “This is my place.”

  I followed her through the door nearest the house’s entrance and waited for her to turn on a light, but she never did.

  Instead, she attacked, wrapping her arms around my neck and seeking my mouth with hers in the darkness. I stumbled, walking backward a few paces until my legs hit what I assumed was a couch, and I fell back.

  “Please tell me you don’t have a roommate,” I mumbled between kisses as she fumbled with the buttons on my shirt.

  “Nobody’s here,” she answered hurriedly, giving up on my shirt and moving to my jeans instead.

  “Good.”

  I kicked my boots to the floor and moved my hands to assist her in undressing. I unzipped and unbuttoned my jeans, shoving them off, and then reached for the waistband on hers. In seconds, they were thrown to the floor, and with our underwear discarded with them, my body filled hers with fluttered eyelids and a sigh.

  “Fuck,” I exhaled, reaching up to press my palm to her cheek. “How can you feel so fucking good?”

  I hadn’t meant to ask the question. It just slipped out between my open lips and into her dark apartment as she worked against my body with lazy movements. But, now that it was out, I let it settle in my heart while she leaned forward and rested her lips once again on mine, to kiss me lazily while our hips moved in a perfect, slow rhythm.

  The answer was so obvious to me, and it glinted like the cross around her neck. Whether it was Fate, God, or simply serendipity, it was right. Nothing but right.

  Audrey and me. Us.

  We.

  Chapter Twenty

  IT’S SUNDAY.

  I woke up with the reminder screaming through my mind, loud and clear. Almost as loud as the banging resounding through the apartment.

  My eyelids snapped open to a chandelier I didn’t recognize, and my brow furrowed with immediate suspicion.

  Where the fuck am I?

  The confusion was fleeting as I felt Audrey move against me, and I noted we were both naked from the waist down. I chuckled through the sleep still rasping my throat, realizing we must’ve fallen asleep immediately after sex, and wondered if we’d ever sleep together without booze floating through our veins.

  “Hey,” I whispered, nudging her cheek with my knuckles. “Audrey.”

  “Hm?” She nuzzled her nose against my neck and hummed sleepily as her arm tightened around my shoulder.

  The knock against the door persisted and then came a voice. “Audrey? Audrey, are you home?”

  With a flash of platinum hair, Audrey sprang from the couch and threw my jeans and underwear over my bare legs and groin. “You have to get dressed,” she hissed, demanding and scrambling to collect her own clothes. “Oh, Lord, what is she doing here now?”

  She was talking to herself, muttering with worry and frustration, and I watched as she hurried to smooth her hair down.

  “Oh, when have we done this before?” I snickered teasingly.

  Audrey turned me to with pleading eyes as the banging continued. “Please, Blake. Put your pants on.”

  “I’m doing it,” I muttered, pulling myself up and getting dressed.

  “Okay,” she breathed out, shaking out her hands. “I’m opening the door now.” Another deep breath. “Okay, gonna do it now. Right now.”

  I lowered my mouth to her ear and asked, “Are you actually gonna do it, or should I?”

  Wide-eyed, she turned her blue gaze on me and shook her head. “You better not.”

  “Then, I suggest you do it, because my hangover really isn’t appreciating that fucking noise.”

  Nodding with understanding, she laid a hand against her temple, as though remembering just how much we’d both had to drink the night before. She moved slowly toward that damn door, two knocks away from being busted open, and unlocked it.

  But right before she opened it, she turned to me with a nervous bite of her lip and said, “Brace yourself, okay?”

  I crossed my arms over my chest and narrowed my eyes with scrutiny. “Why?”

  “Just … brace yourself.”

  Before I could ask again what exactly she meant by that, she opened the door. I immediately saw the older woman, her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail, greying at the temples. She grinned with taunting acknowledgement at Audrey, her pale blue eyes twinkling, and I knew this must be Audrey’s mom.

  I backed further into the room at the knowledge, tightening my arms around myself. I didn’t do this. I didn’t meet parents. Hell, judging from previous experiences, the parents I had met didn’t like me, even if those experiences were limited and from over a decade ago.
I tried to imagine what the good doctor would have to say about all of this. No doubt, she’d make passive aggressive comments about putting the right foot forward or some shit like that.

  “Oh, hi, honey. Were you sleeping?” Her mother’s voice sounded like hers, if a little raspier. Her tone lilted with playful teasing, and the tension in my arms relaxed just a little. “I seem to remember someone telling me she’d call last night when she got home, but …”

  “I’m sorry, Mom,” Audrey groaned in reply, laying a hand over her face. “I got a little, um … distracted.”

  “Uh-huh. Distracted.” Her mother allowed a little laugh before sighing. “I didn’t want to bother you, honey. But someone didn’t want to wait any longer before coming down.”

  Audrey’s breath released from her lungs with a long-winded exhale that I was sure must’ve hurt. “Oh, uh, yeah. Okay.”

  She quickly glanced in my direction, worry laced between the hints of silver in her eyes. I couldn’t decipher what was happening in her mind, or what was happening at all, until her mother said, “Get over here, Freddy. What did I tell you about playing with that plant? What did it ever do to you?”

  As Audrey crouched to the floor, my heart raced toward panick territory as my eyes quickly scanned the living room. It’d been so dark the night before, I never noticed the toys littering the coffee table or the buckets of Lego stacked in the corner. But now I did, and I understood with clarity, Audrey had a son. My palms began to sweat as the realization seeped beneath my skin and chilled my veins, and I turned to see the little brown-haired boy appear in the doorway.

  “Hey, pal,” Audrey greeted him sweetly, successfully pushing any hint of a hangover or irritation from her voice.

  “Mommy, Grandma doesn’t have pancakes,” he replied.

  “Oh, here we go with the pancakes again,” Audrey’s mother muttered.

  “What about pancakes?” Audrey asked, looking up to her mother, then back to her son.

  “He wanted to have pancakes for dinner last night,” her mom explained with a sigh and a shake of her head. “I didn’t have the stuff to make them, so this is all I’ve heard about since.”

  I couldn’t help my chuckle, remembering Jake and our conversation about pancakes for dinner just a couple of weeks ago. The sound alerted Audrey’s mother to my presence, and she gasped, laying her hand over her chest as she peered into the apartment.

  “Oh!” she exclaimed and pinched her eyes shut. “I’m so sorry. I thought … Audrey, I thought you were alone. You should’ve said …”

  Hurrying to stand, Audrey’s hands waved with protest. “N-no, Mom, it’s fine. Really.” Then, she turned toward me, extending a hand in my direction. “This is Blake. Blake, this is my mom, Ann.”

  This is not what I do, I reminded myself, as I discreetly wiped my palm against my jeans and stepped forward. I extended my hand and said, “Hey, nice to meet you.”

  Ann tipped her head back to take me in before slipping her hand into mine and glancing at Audrey. Using her other hand to shield her mouth, she muttered quietly, “Wow, he’s cute. I know you told me he was good looking, but he’s really cute.”

  Audrey gaped at her mother and smacked her shoulder. “Mom!” she laughed, incredulous.

  Releasing my palm, Ann casually shrugged. “What?”

  Audrey glanced at me apologetically before turning back to her mom. “Uh, did you forget about Daddy?”

  “I’ve been married forty years, honey. I’m faithful, but I’m not blind.”

  Freddy, forgotten at his mother’s feet, eyed me warily as he tugged at her shirt. Now up close, I saw he must’ve been about four years old and was wearing a Daniel Tiger t-shirt and blue jeans. I couldn’t help but smile, suddenly missing my brother.

  I pulled in a deep breath, raking back my sex-and-sleep disheveled hair. I took the initiative and knelt to the floor, making sure to look him in the eye. To give him respect and gain his trust.

  “Hey, Freddy,” I said, extending my hand. “I’m Blake.”

  He looked at my hand suspiciously. “You have tattoos,” he stated bluntly.

  I turned my hand over and answered, “Well, what do ya know? I do.”

  “You have a lot.”

  I nodded my agreement. “Yes, that’s true. I do have a lot.”

  “My dad has three tattoos,” he informed me, standing tall. “How many you got?”

  I cleared my throat at the mention of his dad, wondering who he was and why I hadn’t heard about him. Hell, why hadn’t Audrey mentioned she was a mother at all?

  “Oh, man, you know, I don’t know if I can count that high,” I told him, and Freddy scoffed, rolling his eyes.

  “I can count to twenty.”

  “That is pretty high,” I appraised, then winced. “But I think I have a few more tattoos than that.”

  Freddy squinted his eyes at me and pursed his lips, holding tight to Audrey’s shirt. He was a tough guy, protective, and I knew I liked him.

  “Do you like Legos?” he asked.

  I nodded. “I’m pretty awesome at building Legos, actually. My brother’s a big fan.”

  “You wanna see mine?”

  With that, he headed into the apartment toward the stack of Lego buckets, and I stood back up to face the adoring smiles of both Ann and Audrey.

  “Can I talk to you?” I asked Audrey in a low tone that I hoped spoke volumes.

  Understanding immediately, she swallowed and nodded slowly. “Yeah, sure.” Then, addressing her mother, she said, “We’ll be right back, Mom.”

  We stepped outside, moving from the foyer to her front porch, and with an opportunity laid out before me, I abruptly asked, “So, uh, when were you gonna mention you’re a mom?”

  Audrey sighed, tucking her unbrushed hair behind her ears. “Blake …”

  “Because, I mean, it would’ve been nice to know that before you pronounced us as a we,” I went on. “Or, did you just expect me to be cool about this? Like it wouldn’t matter to me after we’ve had sex a couple times?”

  “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you sooner, but when I was supposed to bring it up?”

  I scoffed, shaking my head. “Oh, I don’t know, Audrey. How about last week before we slept together? We were talking all damn night, you had plenty of opportunities. But okay, too soon, I get it. How about last night, then? Shane and Celia were both talking about their kids, you could’ve at any point mentioned yours. But,” I shrugged with passive aggressive and sarcastic flair, “maybe you’re right. Maybe there wasn’t a good time to mention such a minor detail.”

  Audrey pulled in a deep breath and stated, “You’re annoyed.”

  I leveled her with a glare. “Yeah. I am. But I’m not annoyed that you have a kid, let’s get that straight right now. I don’t care that you have a kid, as long as you’re not married or some shit—”

  “I’m not married.”

  “Great, wonderful. Good to know,” I snapped, nodding fervently. “But you can understand why I’d be a little peeved that this was just sprung on me. I wish you had told me sooner, instead of me finding out about him like this. That’s all.”

  She exhaled and nodded. “I understand. And I’m sorry, you’re right. I should’ve told you, but I hope you can understand why I would’ve been hesitant. I like you a lot, and I didn’t want to scare you away when things were really going somewhere. And believe me, I did not expect you to find out like this,” she laughed uneasily, shaking her head.

  I tipped my head toward my feet and nodded as the irritation dissipated. I found confrontation to be easy with her. I liked it, and for that, I was proud. “Yeah, I get it. I don’t know if I ever would’ve wanted to tell you about Jake, if you hadn’t found out the way you did.”

  “Why are you ashamed of him?”

  I lifted my gaze back to hers and shook my head. “Hey,” I spat out, hardening my glare. “I am not ashamed of him. But my life hasn’t exactly been easy by being his brother.”

  She c
ocked her head and asked, “But is that his fault, or yours?”

  “I …” My mouth was frozen in a position to speak but no words were produced as I stood there on her front porch, unable to talk.

  So, Audrey spoke instead. “I got pregnant when I lost my virginity to my first boyfriend,” she confessed, and then laughed. “It’s still so ridiculous to say it out loud. I had been waiting for marriage, but you know, I was just home from college and we thought we’d get married one day. So, we did it and the freakin’ condom broke.”

  “That fucking sucks,” I commented.

  She sat down on the steps and welcomed me to sit beside her. “No,” she disagreed, shaking her head. “It was Fate. I mean, yeah, it was hard being a new young mom while dealing with my sister being sick and then dying. And yeah, it was hard to get used to working while raising a kid. But I never let Freddy stop me from enjoying my life, Blake, because he is my life. So, I include him in it when I can, and I let him make my life better when it’s hard.” Then, with a smile, she nudged my ribs with an elbow. “And the parts I can’t bring him into, I drop him off upstairs with my mom and dad.”

  Her confession coaxed my own as I pressed my elbows to my knees and thrust my hands into my hair. “Jake wouldn’t be the way he is if it wasn’t for me.”

  “You keep saying that, but—”

  “No,” I cut her off, shaking my head adamantly. “Listen to me. It is my fault.”

  “Okay, Blake. I’m listening,” she replied softly, giving me the floor.

  With a deep breath, I told my story. The one I never told, not even to Travetti. “So, Jake … He was normal. He was so fucking smart—way smarter than me. And if you think I’m talented with my drawing, his stuff would’ve blown you away. I mean, even at ten years old, he was winning awards at school and shit. I can’t imagine how it would be now … you know, if he could.”

  I cleared my throat and pushed a hand down to the nape of my neck and squeezed. “I was the wild kid—”

  “Can’t say I’m surprised,” she interjected gently.

  Giving her a short chuckle, I nodded. “Yeah. I was always getting into trouble. I drove my parents crazy, but they loved it back then. I kept them on their toes, while Jake kept the peace. He, uh … he kept me out of trouble, too. He’d always try to talk me out of doing shit or keep me from fucking up. Sometimes, I’d listen, other times I didn’t …