by KJ Bell
Somehow, Mrs. Vernon is wrong.
“I believe you.” I sob violently, collapsing against his chest.
“Come upstairs with me.” He takes my hand, and I let him help me up.
Though confused, I follow him to his room and sit on the bed. He pulls a box from the top of the closet and sits down next to me. His eyes cloud with tears, as he lifts the lid. “I’m as devastated as you are,” he says, reaching inside and lifting a picture. He hands it to me, and I watch tears fall from his eyes.
I take the photo and stare at it in utter disbelief.
“His name is Gentry,” he says, his voice full of pain. “This photo was taken the day we turned twenty-one.”
The photo shakes as I bring it closer. Battle leans against the red Camaro, but there are two cars—two Battle’s.
“You have a twin?”
More tears fall from his eyes as he lowers his gaze to his lap. “I had a twin.”
“Oh, Battle. I’m so sorry.”
I climb into his lap, and throw my arms around his neck. We cling to the love we share for one another and the pain of a loss we never knew connected us. When I feel my composure return, I slide off his lap, and say, “Tell me about him.”
He smiles, but it washes away instantly. A crease forms between his brows. “We were twelve when my parents split up. The court let us decide who we wanted to live with. Can you believe that? We had pick-a-parent day at the courthouse. I picked my mother. Gentry chose my father. Gerald groomed him into the perfect prodigy, but Gentry rebelled and started getting into trouble. He didn’t want to follow in my father’s footsteps, but my father continued to smother him. He alienated Gentry from Mom, from me—his friends.”
I remember how distraught Battle was when he thought he was alienating me from my friends. The hatred he feels for his father molded him into the man he is today. He’s worked hard not to turn out like Gerald McCoy. I can’t imagine the pain he felt being separated from his twin, and worse, losing his brother for good.
“Why have you never told me about him?”
He exhales with his eyes closes. “It’s easier to live pretending I never had a brother than to admit how much I miss him.”
My heart breaks for him, but he mentioned Gentry getting into trouble, and I have to know, “Did you know he was involved in a hit and run?”
“No, God, no. I would’ve said somethin’ when you told me about your gram. I swear to God I would have.”
I believe him.
He heaves a breath and continues, “I knew he got into some kind of trouble. Gentry slept at my place after showin’ up drunk, sayin’ he made a huge mistake, and Dad was pissed. I assumed it was work related. My father turned up in the morning and demanded he come home. I tried to convince Gentry to stand up to him, but he left, and the next day…” he pauses, shaking his head. I’ve never seen him more vulnerable, not even when Evelyn died, and it pains me.
“He killed himself, Faye. I thought he hated our father so much that he would rather be dead than live another second under our father’s thumb. But now I know he couldn’t live with what he’d done, with takin’ your gram from you. My father covered Gentry’s mistake, but I didn’t know what it was. He blamed Gentry’s drinkin’ and suicide on me. Hell, I blamed me, but I swear to you I didn’t know about the accident. I haven’t driven the car, because every time I sit behind the wheel, I remember Gentry, and I hate myself for not helpin’ him.”
The answers I’ve longed for since the day I lost Gram doesn’t bring the closure I’d hoped for. They open doors for new problems that could potentially put a wedge between me and Battle. My family deserves the truth. If Battle’s father did cover up Gentry’s crime, they’ll prosecute. They’ll demand justice, which they should.
I’m not concerned with Gerald McCoy’s future, but I’m terrified that my family will harbor resentment for Battle simply because his last name is McCoy.
“I don’t know what to do. My family needs closure.”
His arms bring me to his chest, enfolding me in his warm embrace. “Then tell them.”
“What if they take their anger out on you?”
He smiles and picks up the dice he brought with us upstairs from the bed. “Roll.”
My fingers curl around the ivory cubes, and I toss the dice without questioning his motives. They land on three. He rolls a nine and asks, “Do you love me?”
“Yes,” I answer instantly.
“Then tell them.”
“But ...”
His index finger presses into my lips, silencing me. “No, buts. If you love me, no one, and nothing else matters. We’ll get through this together, and we’ll be stronger for it.”
I smile.
My heart was never prepared to combat the armor draped over Battle’s heart. We went to war against each other, climbing an uphill battle to be together. There were casualties along the way, but we survived the descent, and at the bottom, he surrendered.
Love truly does conquer all.
Two years later…
Gentry plants a slobbery kiss on the side of Dakota’s face. He doesn’t get the desired response as JT and Ginger’s little girl bawls, her quivering bottom lip sticking out as far as it will stretch.
They’re a month apart, and as opposite as any girl and boy could be. Dakota is sweet, quiet, and usually annoyed with Gentry’s rough and rowdy ways.
Battle scoops our one-year-old off the floor. “Now, buddy, you gotta give a lady time to warm up to you before you go tryin’ to kiss her.”
I smile in awe as I stare at my husband and child, like I have every day since Gentry was born. Battle had concerns about being a father. I think he feared turning out like the man who emotionally abandoned him, but he’s nothing like Gerald McCoy. He proves it every day with the love he shows me and Gentry.
Gerald McCoy never served a day in jail. He denied having any knowledge of the accident and went as far as to point the finger at Battle, claiming Battle was jealous of Gentry, and wanted to tarnish his brother’s good name.
The police showed up at Battle’s house to examine the Camaro. Battle didn’t hesitate to allow them access to the car. I didn’t believe for a moment they would find anything. They didn’t. That night, we drove the car out to Battle’s favorite place, Old Man Parson’s property, where we reenacted our first night together.
In the end, the police couldn’t prove Battle’s father had anything to do with covering up for Gentry, and the car had been conveniently sent to demolition after Gentry’s death. Mr. McCoy sited grief as his reason for destroying the car, but my family and I know the truth. We have closure. And Battle has peace.
Battle proposed the night he won his first national event, and we eloped two days later. My parents weren’t thrilled as my father still prefers planning over spontaneity. We were forced to attend a reception at their house with family and friends.
I thought my poor father might have a heart attack when I delivered the news of a welcomed, but unplanned pregnancy. He reacted better than I expected. The moment Gentry was born, there was never a question he was elated to be a grandpa. After he retired, and abandoned his bid for Mayor, my mother didn’t know what she’d do with him. He spends most of his afternoons at Battle’s helping Henry man the ranch. I personally think he comes for Roy.
Wyatt and Madeline are expecting their first child in a few months. I smile at him from across the room. Somehow, through all the hurt feelings, we’ve remained friends. It would have been so easy to hold a grudge, but we have a history that bonds us. I channeled Gram to forgive him. His mistakes were made before the accident that changed him. We all deserve a second chance. I’m fond of Madeline. She’s perfect for Wyatt. Mrs. Daughtrey has even come around, and we’ve made amends.
Cooper and Katie are still together, and their daughter is beautiful, although we don’t see as much of them as we want since Copper moved to Oklahoma. They plan to move to Kansas after Katie gets her Bachelor’s degree. As we gather t
oday to celebrate Marty and Austin’s engagement, I realize Scooter’s the only one of our group who isn’t tied down, and if you ask him, he says he never will be.
Erinn smiles at me as she holds Gentry on her lap. My baby boy may be the first child I birthed, but Erinn gave me the gift of motherhood. I wipe a tear as I think about how much Evelyn has missed. Our scared girl, who struggled so long to socialize, now competes for an elite dance team. She has friends, some with a diagnosis and some without, but typical teenagers all the same.
Battle sweeps my hair to the side, nuzzling my neck. “How’s Evelyn?” he asks slyly.
I beam, circling my stomach with my palms. “She’s good.”
I’m only seven weeks along, but Battle insists it’s a girl. I wasn’t convinced until Erinn agreed with him.
As I glance up into his eyes, butterflies dance in my tummy as they always do when I’m near him.
Life has its own plan, and mine is working out exactly as it is supposed to. Like Grammy always said it would.
Writing is a journey of learning and growth. I’ve made mistakes, but I learned from those mistakes with a lot of encouragement from those who stood by and nudged me to write the story better, and not to settle for fine. I owe them all many thanks.
For starters, my incredible family who puts up with me, especially at crunch time. Tom (my husband), for his love and support. He’s my rock. My kids have sacrificed a lot of mommy time, and eaten a lot of junk food. I promise to make it up to them.
Without my mother, I might still be writing my first book. I love her dearly.
Big time thanks to: My friend Vicki, for her willingness to read my books from the first draft to the end, and for always giving me her honest feedback, even when I disagree with her. She’s been with me since book one, and I hope for many more. My betas; Sarah, Kristie, and Denise, for their insight and help to improve Battle’s story. They’re amazing women I’m blessed to have in my life. Ellie, for finding me the perfect picture for Battle and for loving B as much as I do. Christine and Nichole from Perfectly Publishable, for putting up with me, and their brilliance, from the beautiful cover and formatting Christine designed to the attention Nichole put into proofing, they’re both pretty amazing.
A thousand thank you's to the bloggers who have stayed in touch, read ARC’s, and taken the time to review my books. You all rock my socks off. I’m in complete awe of how hard you work. There aren’t enough words to thank you.
Finally, thank you to the Erinn in my life, for showing me the world through her eyes as it should be. I’m proud of the woman she’s becoming and how much she shines.
KJ Bell currently lives in California with her husband and three children. As a mother of three, when she’s not writing, she’s usually carting one of her children to their various activities. She enjoys reading and music, and is equally addicted to both.
Writing is a passion she simply can’t live without and looks forward to publishing many books in the near future.
She loves hearing from her readers and can be found on various social media sites using the following links:
WEBSITE
FACEBOOK
TWITTER
GOODREADS
AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE
The Irreparable Series
Irreparably Broken
Irreversible Damage
Tug
The Hustle (Tug 2) ~ Coming Soon
Standalones
The Locket
Cut Too Deep
