by J. E. Parker
It damn sure wouldn’t have helped the situation, but it would’ve made me feel better.
At least temporarily.
“Carissa, Beautiful Girl , please—”
“God doesn’t make mistakes.”
Wide-eyed and shocked as hell, I spun around at the sound of my mother’s voice.
Standing in the doorway and wearing the same clothes she’d worn to the cemetery, her eyes shone brightly with tears.
“Mama, what are you doing down here?”
Wringing her hands, she stepped into the kitchen.
“God doesn’t make mistakes,” she repeated. “Ever.”
Though I wasn’t about to start an argument, I disagreed with her.
Mightily so.
“I know what you’re thinking.” Her voice sounded stronger than it had in years. “And I want you to quit it, Kyle.” She took a single step forward. “Enough is enough.” Her eyes flitted to Carissa before coming back to me. “You’ve suffered more than your fair share, sweet boy, and it’s got to stop.”
Carissa’s hand landed on my lower back; her touch anchored me.
Reaching behind me, I laced my fingers with hers.
She squeezed my hand in response, letting me know she was right there with me.
“Mama, no disrespect intended, but I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
That was putting it lightly.
Closer she came until less than a foot separated her from me. “Last time you were here,” she whispered, “you accused me of wishing it was you that died instead of Lily.”
Unable to bear looking at her, I clenched my eyes shut.
“You were wrong, son,” she continued.
My eyes popped open.
Behind me, Carissa gasped.
“Not once have I ever thought that.”
“Mama—”
“Not even when the pain was at its worst, did I think that.” Lifting her frail hands, she cupped my cheeks. “I know I haven’t been a very good mother.” The first of her tears fell. “Well, I guess I haven’t been much of a mother at all.”
My throat felt like it was swelling shut.
“You’re my little boy, Kyle. You always have been, and you always will be.”
“Then why?” I asked, repeating Carissa’s question from earlier. “Why did you stop loving me?”
Thinning her lips into flat strips, she dropped her head back and stared at the ceiling. Then, after dropping her hands from my cheeks, she wrapped her willowy arms around her middle and looked up, meeting my gaze. “I never stopped loving you.”
The hell she didn’t.
“Not once,” I said, feeling my skin heat. “Not once in seventeen years have you told me you loved me, much less acted like it.” Smoothly transitioning into asshole mode, I lifted my chin in the air. “Tell me why.”
“Kyle,” Carissa started, stepping out from behind me. “Honey, maybe we should—”
My girl snapped her mouth shut when Mama bent at the waist and let out a primal scream. Her agonized bellows echoed off the walls, bouncing around the first floor.
Carissa snapped into action.
Darting past me, she wrapped her arms around Mama, taking her weight against her. “It’s okay, Mrs. Dottie,” she said, holding on tight. “It’s okay.”
Shaking her head violently back and forth, Mama continued to scream.
The soul-shattering shrieks went straight to my heart, piercing it.
Gasping for breath, Mama slammed her fisted hands down onto the front of her thighs. “You don’t understand!” she yelled, showing more life than I’d seen in the last decade. “You don’t—”
I snapped.
“Then explain it, Mama!” I hollered, watching as Carissa’s eyes bulged. “Please, for the love of fucking God, explain it to me!”
Mama stood straight. Her eyes filled with fire, giving me a glimpse of the woman she’d once been; the woman I missed like crazy.
Raising her still fisted hands into the air, she broke free of Carissa’s hold and slammed them against my chest. “You”—hit—“don’t”—hit—“understand!”
I wrapped my hands around her wrists, stopping her from hitting me again. I couldn’t care less about her pummeling me, but I didn’t want her to harm herself. “Explain”—my nostrils flared as I exhaled—“it!”
Her fight disappeared as quickly as it had come.
Falling into me, she ripped her wrists from my hold, curled her fingers into my t-shirt and pressed her face against my chest. Then she started to sob. Hard. “The last t-time,” she stuttered in between gasps for breath, “I told one of my b-babies I loved t-them, they didn’t come b-back.”
Every ounce of anger and resentment I felt receded.
In its place slid hurt.
A helluva lot of hurt.
Behind Mama, Carissa started to cry, her shoulders shaking from the convulsions racking her body. I wanted to go to her, wanted to hold her tight, but I couldn’t, and that damn near killed me.
Please understand…
Mama burrowed further into me.
Wrapping my arms around her thin frame, I hugged her tight.
It was the first time in almost two decades I had embraced her in a loving way.
I inhaled, tucking my chin against the crown of her head. “It’s alright, Mama,” I assured her. “Just breathe for me, yeah?”
“It’s n-not okay,” she replied, continuing to stutter. “None of it is o-okay.”
“Yeah, it is,” I argued.
“Kyle, p-please”—her body jerked as her sobs strengthened —“one d-day, forgive m-me.”
Closing my eyes, I pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
“I already have.”
It was the truth.
TWENTY-NINE
Carissa
I awoke to the feeling of someone watching me.
Heart strumming wildly, I popped open my eyes and jerked upright in bed as panic assailed me. Running on pure instinct, I raised my hands to ward off an impending attack.
Bleary-eyed, I gasped for breath as I jumped to the opposite side of the mattress, away from whoever—or whatever—I felt staring at me. Having jumped too far, my hip slipped off the bed. Before I could right myself, I started to fall back, headed straight for the floor.
A small yelp escaped my lips when a strong hand caught the front of the oversized shirt I wore, stopping me from tumbling to the hard ground. Surrounded by darkness, I clawed at the hand that held me and screamed as loud as my sleep-clogged throat would allow. “Kyle!”
“Jesus, baby,” he quickly replied, “it’s just me.”
Hold up.
Is he right in front of me?
Blinking to clear the fog that lined my vision and polluted my brain, I looked down at the hand holding me tight.
I recognized it right away.
Shaking from the adrenaline that my pounding heart had dumped into my veins, I wrapped my hands around Kyle’s forearm, holding on for dear life as I looked up, meeting his gaze. “Sorry,” I mumbled, feeling my cheeks heat in embarrassment as my heart worked to calm. “I thought you were someone else.”
His mood plummeted; his anger rose.
“Yeah, you need to explain that one, Carissa. Who did you think I was?” Before I could attempt to form a reply, he continued. “Somebody hurt you, Princess?” His voice was low. Lethal. “If so, I want a name. Now.”
I blew out a shaky breath. “Nobody hurt me. I just—”
“Something happened or else you wouldn’t react the way you just did. Tell me.”
“Oh, Jesus,” I whispered, closing my eyes as a whole lot of shame and embarrassment wound its way through my system. “It’s not what you think.”
“Tell me.” His tone left little room for argument.
“When we were kids, Heidi took joy in scaring the crap out of me every chance she got.”
“Come again?”
I chuckled, half mortified over what I w
as about to say. “Gorillas,” I replied, “I was, and still am, terrified of them.”
“Gorillas?”
“Yeah,” I replied, nodding. “Daddy had this gorilla mask he kept in his closet. He’d bought it one year for Halloween and for some unknown reason, he never got rid of it. Anyway, Heidi being the sweet little sister she is”—my voice dripped with sarcasm—“would put it on and then jump on me in the middle of the night while I was dead asleep, scaring me so badly I peed the bed. More than once.”
Dropping his head back, Kyle stared at the ceiling.
Then, he laughed. Hard.
“It’s not funny!” I hollered, releasing my grip and smacking his shoulders with both hands once, then twice. “I was traumatized!”
Apparently, I still am, I mentally added.
“Yeah,” he said, looking up. Smiling from ear-to-ear, his eyes twinkled. “I can see that.”
Steadying myself on the mattress, I covered my face with both hands. “This is embarrassing.” That was putting it lightly. “Kyle, seriously, you can’t let Heidi know about this. If she finds out, I’ll never hear the end of it.”
Kyle pulled my hands from my face. “Don’t hide your face from me.” His words were demanding, but his tone was soft. “I don’t like not being able to see your gorgeous eyes.”
Warmth spread through me at his words. “I won’t as long as you promise not to spill the beans to my bratty sister.”
Still smiling—Lord, I love that look on him—my guy lifted his chin in the air. “I won’t, Beautiful Girl . Promise. Now come on, I made you breakfast.”
As clique as it sounds, I swear my heart fluttered. “You made me breakfast?”
He nodded. “Pancakes. I know they’re your favorite.”
At the word pancakes, I skedaddled across the bed. Once on my feet and facing the door, I looked back at him over my shoulder. “I know I’m supposed to be all ladylike with food, but when it comes to pancakes, all bets are off, Hulk. Hope you made extra. If not, I may not leave any for you.”
“I will be damned—”
Laughter bubbled from my chest as I turned and ran out of the room, not giving him time to finish his sentence. Down the hall and into the kitchen I went, where I came to a sliding stop.
All the air disappeared from my lungs.
“Oh my God,” I whispered-hissed, staring at the two-chair dinette set along the far wall.
Behind me, Kyle’s footsteps announced his arrival, followed by the feel of his arms wrapping around my belly. Dipping his head, he nuzzled his stubble-covered face along the column of my throat before pressing a kiss to the place where my shoulder met my neck. “I hope you like it.” His arms tightened around me. “I wasn’t sure which flower was your favorite, which is bullshit because I should know, so I got you my favorite.”
Emotions swamped me as I stared at the scene before me, my heart in my throat. “You did this?”
I pointed at the small table adorned with two lit candles, a stack of fluffy pancakes, a pair of complete place settings, and the prettiest hurricane-shaped vase I’d ever seen; a vase filled to the brim with tiger lilies.
Lilies being his favorite were no surprise.
“When...” A lump formed in my throat, cutting off my words. “I mean...”
“I snuck out while you were sleeping and picked everything up while Ty waited outside on the breezeway.”
I chuckled. “You made him wait outside?”
It was a silly question considering I already knew the answer.
That answer? Of course he did.
“Hell yes,” he answered. “Nobody comes near you when I’m not around; much less when you’re sleeping in nothing more than my t-shirt.”
I turned in his hold and slid my arms around his neck. “You’re awfully possessive,” I said, repeating my words from days before.
Kyle quirked a brow. “And like I told you before, you’re awfully mine.”
“Hmm… Well, since I’m yours, does that mean you’re going to feed me now? Cause I’m sort of starving.”
“Yeah, baby, I am,” he replied, resting his hands on my hips. “But you’re going to feed me first.”
I gasped when he lifted me and turned, placing my bare bottom on the cool countertop. “What are you—”
My mouth fell open in shock—or maybe it was anticipation—when he wrapped his hands around the backs of my knees and pulled me to the edge, causing the shirt I wore to ride up, revealing my pantyless lower half.
Moving closer, he slid his calloused hands across the top of my thighs.
I dropped my head back and allowed my eyes to slide closed.
The sensation, as good as it felt, was overwhelming. “Kyle,” I moaned, my voice breathy and laced with lust. “What are you doing?”
Spreading my legs with his strong hands, he kissed my jaw before nipping the lobe of my ear. His lips then traveled south, down my neck, and over my shirt covered chest. “I’m doing what I should’ve done last night,” he whispered, dropping to his knees before me. “I’m worshiping you, baby.”
I didn’t have time to speak before his tongue flicked my clit.
Back bowed, I arched my neck and screamed to the Heavens above, only half-aware that Ty or Chase may hear me through the thin walls. “Good girl,” Kyle growled, pulling his open mouth from me long enough to speak. “Good fucking girl. Keep screaming.”
Self-consciousness bloomed in my belly. “They’ll”—I gasped as he slipped a long finger inside me—“hear.”
I whined in protest when his tongue pulled back. “Good. Scream my name, Carissa. Mine. Let them know who the fuck you belong to.”
In less than a second, his mouth was on me again.
Incapable of doing anything else, I did as he demanded.
I screamed his name.
Loud.
An hour later...
Holding a fork full of pancakes in one hand and a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice in the other, I sat at the table opposite Kyle. Having already finished his food, he leaned back in the chair, his muscular arms crossed over his massive chest.
Eyes filled with storm clouds, I knew something was on his mind.
That much was obvious.
Just what that something was, I wasn’t sure.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked, my eyes never deviating from his as I sat my fork back on the plate and my glass back on the table.
To my surprise, my Hulk nodded. “Yeah, baby, I do.”
Well, I’ll be danged…
Leaning forward, he placed his arms on the table and raked his tongue across his bottom lip. “I know I’ve said it once already, but Carissa, I need you to understand how fucking sorry I am about yesterday.”
Yesterday wasn’t something I wanted to think about.
Ever again.
“Kyle, it’s—”
“Don’t say it’s okay, Princess,” he interrupted, “because it sure as hell isn’t.”
“A lot was going on. None of it was easy on you.”
Disgust crossed his face. “That’s no excuse.”
“I think it is,” I retorted. “When people are upset, hurt, or scared they lash out, doing things they normally wouldn’t. It’s a horrible flaw, but it’s one we all have.”
Kyle shook his head, frustration flashing in his eyes. “I don’t care about who has what flaw. The only thing I care about is knowing I’ll never act that way towards you again. I guarantee that.”
Placing one of his fisted hands on the table, he tapped the wood three times.
Tap, tap, tap.
“Seeing Mama like that with you, it just...” Clenching his jaw tight, he turned his head to the side, popping his neck.
I cringed.
“I’ve been trying to revive her for seventeen years, Carissa, and you brought her back to life in less than five minutes.”
Wanting to make him smile, or at least cut through the heaviness that surrounded us, I whispered, “It’s because I’m a
girl.”
He nodded in agreement, but he didn’t smile. “Yeah, that’s a big part. Did you see her face when I introduced you as my girlfriend? She cut me off right then, and from that moment on, you were the one she clung too.”
“Is that what made you angry?”
He tilted his hand to the side. “Angry? No. I mean, I was upset—still am if I’m being honest—but I wasn’t upset with you or her.”
“Tell me why then.”
“Why I got upset?”
I wordlessly nodded.
“Because,” he continued, his tone clipped, “none of us should’ve been in that situation to begin with. I shouldn’t have been worried about introducing you to her, nor should I have been worried about her reaction to you.”
There was more to his explanation, more that he wasn’t divulging, but I wasn’t sure how far I should push. Already on edge, I didn’t want him to explode. But Kyle was a grown man. He could handle it. “I know that’s not all.”
“You’re right,” he whispered so quietly I hardly heard him. “I was pissed at the situation, but I was mostly pissed at myself.”
“Why?”
If he blamed himself for Lily’s death again, I was liable to stab him in the balls with my syrup covered fork.
Well, not really.
Threatening him in my head sure made me feel better though.
“Cause I should’ve brought you around her before yesterday. If I had, you could’ve cracked Mama’s shell sooner, and maybe, just fucking maybe, I would’ve felt her loving arms around me and she would’ve felt mine around her a helluva lot sooner.”
Stupid tears welled in my eyes. Again. “Kyle—”
“Seventeen years, Carissa,” he interrupted. “Before yesterday, that’s how long it had been since my Mama last touched me in a loving manner. I know a lot of stuff is still unsettled between us, and there are a lot more conversations to be had, but last night I finally saw the truth.”
“Yeah?” I smiled. “And what truth is that?”
“That I’m more my mother’s son than I thought.” I wasn’t sure what that meant, and I was about to ask him for clarification when he continued. “She blames herself for everything, even shit that wasn’t her fault.” Blowing out a breath, he ran his palms down the sides of his face. “What she did to me, what she allowed my father to do”—his jaw ticked—“it wasn’t right, but at least she stayed, unlike Daddy. I’m not trying to make excuses for her, but I don’t know how the hell I would’ve reacted if I had been in her shoes. Lily was my sister, and I loved her with everything I had—still do—but she was Mama’s little girl. Big difference.”
