by A. L. Woods
“Your life would be very different.”
Her hands stilled. “It would look a little like Lainey’s.” Trina looked hollowed out as she sat on the thought. My mind summoned the memory of Braids with that adorable toddler on her hip who’d all but walked out of the house with my heart in his grubby little fist. “But at least Ma wouldn’t hate me.”
“She doesn’t hate you.” Sean’s voice in the doorway made me freeze.
Trina glanced up at her brother, looking more like a child than a young woman in that moment. Nerves tightened her expression.
“She’s never hated you,” Sean stressed. He stepped inside, his stare bouncing around the room, a gruff sigh escaping him at its chaotic state. He had made a point of putting on the T-shirt Trina had left for him in the kitchen. It was a muted gray hue with “Tavares Construction” scrawled across the width of the shirt. The color of the shirt did something to the melanin of his skin, making him look like a bronzed king, even in the December weather.
Trina’s throat worked on the sob that I knew was lodged there, more tears springing to her eyes. She rocked her jaw in a vain effort to keep her tears in check, but they betrayed her, spilling from the corners and leaving two streaks down her made-up face.
“Then why did she do that to me?”
I was surprised when he dropped to his knees in front of his sister and grabbed her by the shoulders, turning her to face him. “What she did to you is about her, not you.”
“I don’t understand,” she croaked.
“You are her baby, Katrina. Maria and I? We fucked up. Livy’s head is too big for her own body, but you…you were the one she invested all her efforts into when Dad died.” His Adam’s apple shifted; he was clearly trying to keep his own emotions in line.
A part of me felt like I should have left the room to give them privacy, but as though hearing my thoughts, he flitted his stare in my direction, wordlessly conveying “stay” to me.
He closed his eyes, his lids squeezing together briefly before he opened them again with bolstered confidence. “You were the distraction she needed at that point in her life, so the idea of you losing your ‘innocence’,” he made air quotes with his fingers, “and then opting not to give her yet another distraction with a baby—it fucked her up.”
I held my breath as the confession suffused the room, my eyes flitting between the siblings. It was as if I’d found a puzzle piece that had been missing for months and put it into place. Her eyes widened, processing the information her brother had given her.
Trina broke first, her voice filled with justified ire as she spoke. “That wasn’t her choice, but she punished me for it.”
“You’re right, and she was wrong to do that to you. That’s why Maria and I have always been on your side, kid.” He shucked under her chin before thumbing away at the vagrant tears that rolled down her slender cheeks. “But don’t fool yourself into believing that Ma doesn’t love you, ’cause she does. This shit was always on her, not you.”
Her lashes fluttered as she worked over the thought, her brows knitting together. “Yeah, well, she’s got a shit way of showing it.”
“I won’t argue that.” He laughed, then pulled her to him and pressed a kiss to her forehead before wrapping his arms around her shoulders and holding him against her. She reciprocated the action, squeezing her brother around the middle. “Are you crying on the shirt you demanded I put on?” he playfully growled into her hair.
She let out a garbled sound that was half sob and half laughter, her fingers clinging to his shirt.
Glancing at the alarm clock on Trina’s nightstand, I found my window of opportunity to excuse myself. It was imperative I reach my destination before nine, and based on the map I’d looked up last night, the drive would take me at least an hour and fifteen minutes. I didn’t know who would be lingering around a bar in butt-fuck-nowhere that early in the morning, but I wanted to have this conversation with as few bystanders as possible.
I considered what Sean could have meant when he said he and Maria had fucked up as I pulled on my leather jacket, freeing my trapped hair from the collar. I shoved my feet into my boots, making haste on the laces before I stepped out into the early December morning air. A dusting of snow littered the ground, but I knew it was still too early in the month for it to stick around. New England winters were brutal, but they didn’t become merciless until January. I was halfway across the porch before the front door swung open and Sean’s frame filled the threshold.
“Hey,” he called out. I glanced over my shoulder, watching as he held up a black travel mug with a handle. “I made you this.”
“Oh, thanks.” Smiling, I took three steps toward him until my legs stopped moving, curiosity getting the better of me. “What did you mean back there when you said you and Maria fucked up?”
He hesitated, an unidentified thought igniting his eyes. He ran his fingers through his hair, giving me a look that I also couldn’t place.
Swallowing the knot that had formed in my throat, I gently prompted, “Sean?”
“Don’t get pissed.”
I snorted. “Maybe don’t start a sentence that way.” But the morose glance he shot me made my stomach sink as I accepted the travel mug, my fingers brushing his.
He looked heavenward, his free hand tugging at the collar of his shirt, as if it wasn’t thirty-two degrees outside and we had just arrived on a beach in Mexico. “A few years ago, a girl I was dating got pregnant.”
The plastic travel mug slipped from my hand and hit the porch, sending us both jerking backward.
“Shit,” I said in a panic, my reflex rushing toward the mess at the same time he did. His head knocked into mine as we simultaneously bent, a howl escaping me as I threw both hands to the painful area on the side of my head.
Sean studied me carefully, his hand going to the lump his head of steel was going to leave me with. I was just grateful it would be masked under my hair. He held my stare as he massaged away the pain and the tension.
My molars ground into each other as I considered the implication of what he hadn’t directly stated. Gently stepping out of his touch, my spine steeled and my shoulders tensed, I said, “Is this your way of telling me you have a secret kid?” I wasn’t able to keep the indignant tone out of my voice.
Sean looked nervous as he stoked the facial hair that peppered his jaw. I sucked in a breath when he didn’t speak. Jesus Christ, did he have a kid? My mind roamed back to the little boy who had all but thrown himself at him in his kitchen weeks ago. I couldn’t ignore the racing thoughts that filled my head, my talent for storytelling filling in the blanks with every passing second that stretched on. That had been his kid, hadn’t it? That was the only explanation. That was why Braids had looked at him like he was a snack.
Fuck. I’d stood there like an idiot, half-dressed while his baby mama gave me the once-over. She had been mocking me with that smile and handshake routine.
I had to know. “More importantly, was that your kid a few weeks ago?”
“What?” Confusion marked his face. “Lainey’s son? Fuck, no.”
I shifted my gaze to my feet, unconvinced. “I had to ask.”
He observed me with bewilderment. “Why the hell would you ever think that?”
“Braids looked at you like a dog looks at a steak dinner.”
“Braids?” He snorted at me, “Do you mean Lainey?”
My raised chin was all he was getting out of me for an answer.
Sean shook his head, running a hand over his face. “I’ve known Lainey since she was in diapers. She’s like another sister. Trust me, I would rather fuck my hand for the rest of my life than touch her.”
Our silence felt protracted as he waited for me to say something, but I didn’t know what to say. I’d jumped to conclusions, my adrenaline a folly to my will to remain calm today. I hadn’t needed this conversation right now; I had enough shit on my plate as it was.
“So, what is it, then?”
; His sigh was short as he twisted a tendril of my hair between his fingers, his breath fanning me. “It’s my way of telling you that I almost proposed to someone once upon a time because it seemed like the right thing to do.”
I schooled my expression, trying to detangle my thoughts that were going a mile a minute. He had been engaged? Or almost engaged? Not that it mattered right now, but Jesus, this guy was just full of surprises, wasn’t he? Did he rush into every relationship like this?
My apathy slid back in place like a well-loved mask as I worked to extinguish the shock that was swimming throughout me. “Always the gentleman, Slim.” I had intended for it to come out as a joke, but my words held a biting undertone that I hadn’t prepared myself for.
He drew in a sharp breath, and I focused on a random shrub in his neighbor’s dooryard. In my peripheral vision, I caught sight of his arms dropping limply to his sides. My reaction had done something to his demeanor that left me unsettled, but I wouldn’t relinquish my hold on the mask. “So, no love child?” I asked.
He shook his head again.
“Okay, then.” I nodded. I glanced down at the coffee that had vanished between the floorboards of the porch, the dripping over the chirp of the birds in the distance. We stood there awkwardly for a few seconds more before I staggered past him and went back in the house to get paper towels to mop up the rest of my mess before it had a chance to stain the porch’s white pine floorboards.
“Are you mad?” he asked over the running water of the kitchen sink as I wet a bunch of paper towels. I wrung the water free from the towels, glancing at him over my shoulder.
“Why would I be? I’m fine.”
He shifted his weight, his arms crossing over the width of his chest, the action making him look more like a teenage boy than a grown man. I sighed, my tongue sandwiching itself between my teeth.
“You had a life before me, Sean. Just like I had one, too.” He probed the inside of his cheek, his tell for when he didn’t like something I’d said.
“Meaning?” The word trailed off on his tongue as he followed me back outside.
“Meaning exactly that.” He had a kill count, a near-fiancée and an almost kid. I had Cash. Even if I was caught off guard by his admission, I had no right to be upset about it, no matter what narrative my anxiety was trying to tell me. “There’s no way to predict where anyone ends up or with who. I can’t get mad at you for something like that, and I don’t perceive that as a fuck up.”
“Then why the hell are your hands shaking?”
I glared at the extremities affixed to my wrists, and sure enough, they were making like maracas. I could practically hear the chattering of my bones. I looked at my hands, willing the damn things to drop the rattlesnake routine. This wasn’t a by-product of his confession, although shocking—this was the onset guilt of what I was going to do after I left here rearing its ugly little head.
“I’m just cold.”
He sighed in a manner that told me he knew my answer was bullshit, but he didn’t press the issue. The answer was a crock, just not for the reason he thought.
“Here,” he said, taking the sopping ball of paper towels from me. “I got this.”
I stood by awkwardly, watching as he mopped up my mess. Then he grabbed the travel mug from the ground. “Do you want another?”
“No. I have to get going, or I’m going to be late.”
He looked at me through thoughtful eyes, as if he was trying to place something. “Are you sure you’re not upset?”
That was my cue to leave before he found my red herring.
“No,” I assured, stepping closer to him. I shifted my weight to my toes, lifting myself to meet his descending lips. His mouth was possessive, his grip on my waist firm, the pads of his fingers holding me against him like he could kiss away whatever I wasn’t saying to him. A current of energy passed between us that melted the edges of my unspoken anxiety.
When we broke away, he whispered, “It turned out to be someone else’s kid.” He didn’t sound even marginally sad about it, but I couldn’t help but feel a little badly for him.
“I’m sorry.” And I was. I knew how it felt to be cheated on, and I hadn’t had to stomach the idea of Cash getting someone else pregnant. That, on top of everything else I had already been dealing with, would have put me over the edge.
“I’m not. I might be married to someone else right now.”
An errant thought that maybe he might have been better off floated through me, finding its way to my tongue. “There are worse things that—”
He silenced me with his thumb pressed against my lips, his mouth finding the shell of my ear.
His breath was warm there, his lips brushing my earlobe as he spoke. “If you say one more self-deprecating thing about yourself, your ass is mine.”
I jerked my head back at the threat. Amusement colored his face, while mine blistered. Heat scorched up the back of my neck, every hair that lined my body rising. “What did you say?”
“You heard me, Hemingway.”
The fucker was serious. How did he take a serious moment and turn it into something so heated in the beat of a second? “I don’t do back door stuff.”
He lined his lips with the tip of his tongue in a manner I found highly erotic. “You don’t…or you haven’t?”
“What is this? Confessional?” My nervous titter interrupted the stillness of the neighborhood. His eyes shifted to a man across the street who raised a hand in greeting. Sean mirrored the neighbor’s motions, mirth tilting his lips into a smile. We both knew he didn’t give a shit about his neighbor; he was just goading me on and enjoying every damn minute of it.
“I’m going to work now,” I announced as I descended the porch steps.
He followed me to my car, his footsteps nimble beside me as I plodded toward the Camry. I had barely gotten the key into the lock before he spun me around, caging me against the car door.
“Were you just about to leave without kissing me goodbye?” His hands went to my waist.
“Sorry, I thought that last kiss had been a sufficient goodbye.” I raised on tiptoe, but he kept his lips out of reach. His fingers dug into the denim that cupped my ass like Saran Wrap.
“You didn’t answer my question.” He brushed the tip of his nose against mine.
“I’m going to be late, and your neighbor is still standing in his driveway watching us like we’re exhibitionists.” I hadn’t meant for it to come out as a pant, but it had and that was enough to stir him. I felt him hardening against my taut stomach, and I was praying to whatever god was listening right now that I got to where I needed to be on time, because at this rate things were about to turn into a pay-per-view porno on the hood of my piece of shit car.
“Have you ever been fucked in the ass before, yes or no?” He asked the question with the same casualness one might demonstrate when asking for salt at the dinner table.
My nostrils flared as my palms went to press against his chest. “No,” I hissed, shoving him forward, though he barely moved an inch. The birds in the sentinel tree of his yard flew away from the limbs, cawing as they headed for a yard where I was sure no crass conversation was occurring.
“You’re blushing,” Sean murmured. He planted his hand over my heart, and I hated that fucking organ more than anything else in that moment because it beat hard and fast under his hand, revealing the truth. “It’s okay if you haven’t.”
“And I won’t.”
He chuckled when I clipped him with my hip bone, and this time, he gave me enough space to break-free. I turned the key in the door lock, and when the lock sprang open, I tossed my bag into the passenger seat and tucked myself behind the wheel before slamming the car door. Turning the key in the ignition, I let out a small laugh.
What had I gotten myself into here?
Sean rapped on the car window. For a minute I considered not opening it, but somehow, I suspected that would only make things worse for me in the long run. I opened the window, glarin
g up at him from under my lashes.
“You forgot something.” He tapped his lips, sticking his head into the open window.
He was within an inch of my lips, his eyes growing more heated with each thump of my heart, which was loud enough to cut the dampened silence of the cabin. My thighs pressed together involuntarily, my mind buzzing in a futile attempt to ignore the throb that was pulsing between my legs. “You’re a fucking weirdo.”
That stupid smile of his curled the corners of his mouth. “Then kiss your fucking weirdo.” His throaty chuckle filled the cabin.
Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t refuse him. I’d lost my ability to do that, or even to know how. And that was the exact problem with the four-letter L-word—it was a death sentence to a person’s rationale.
I wasn’t entirely aggrieved by the realization, though. I planted both hands on either side of his face, slanting my mouth against his. His tongue swept across my bottom lip, and the sensible part of me fled as my lips parted and granted him access. He palmed the back of my head, drawing me closer, and the small space between us still felt too far. By the time he let me go, my lips were throbbing and I was gasping for air.
“Wh-what the hell was that?” I stammered.
He unfolded his body from the window, and with a shrug of his shoulders, tossed me a wry smile. “A preview.”
“Asshole.”
“Not mine, sweetheart,” He knocked on the hood my car before he took a few steps away. “But definitely yours.”
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
Some people didn’t buy into the belief of a sixth sense.
But I had known something wasn’t right the same way I knew my middle name. It was a nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach that felt like I’d swallowed a marble, that dread spreading through me every time the tiny glass ball rolled around my insides until the ache consumed my every thought.
I watched Raquel’s rear lights disappear down the still-darkened road, the sun having not quite made its ascent in the sky. Dawn broke out across the deep indigo sky, strips of orange and pink awash against the rich ether. My held breath burned in my chest as she came to a stop at a four-way stop. I waited for her to flip on her right blinker, muttering a silent prayer to myself as the car in front of her cleared the intersection.
