Her Keeper

by Rianna Campbell

  Yes. If he asked her right now, she would have absolutely called wherever he was home.

  Stupid and irresponsible as it might be considering how long they’d been together, but she’d do it all the same. She’d been known to do some impulsive things in her life. She always followed her gut, but she’d rarely regretted it. And somehow she didn’t think she’d regret a single second of being with Parker, no matter what happened a week, a month, or a year from now.

  “Ready?” Parker asked, already holding open the door of his truck. She hadn’t even realized they’d reached it.

  “Yeah,” she replied, shaking her head a little. “Let’s go home.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Parker wasn’t sure if it was the fact that he’d told Amanda every nasty detail about his life and she still wanted to be with him, or if it was because they weren’t hiding their relationship anymore, but he felt lighter than he had in years.

  For once, he wasn’t plagued by guilt and doubt. He wasn’t holding his breath, waiting for the axe to fall. He knew they still had to tell her parents, Alexandra had been sworn to secrecy in the meantime, but he was actually feeling hopeful.

  It was an unfamiliar feeling, but that’s what it had to be. He was looking forward to things and daring to plan, even if it was only in his own head, for a future that might include Amanda.

  And he was grinning like an idiot, which was so unlike him that he was getting second and third looks from the guys at work. Word eventually spread about him and Amanda, and he got a hearty round of congratulations. Even the attention didn’t make him nearly as uncomfortable as it normally would have.

  It felt good to have everyone know that she was his; that for some reason he couldn’t fathom, she’d chosen him. He felt like his chest might explode with all the emotions he was trying to hold in.

  Which meant he was in the perfect mood to do something he’d been putting off for weeks. So when an opportunity presented itself, he took it.

  At the end of the day, he found himself alone in the locker room with Ian. Parker had just come in to grab his stuff to go home for the day when he saw Ian sitting on one of the benches, lacing up a pair of workboots.

  He must have just changed since he was wearing a plain pair of ripped jeans and a white t-shirt instead of the suit he’d been wearing earlier in the day. Ian looked up at him when he walked in but quickly went back to his task, unconcerned.

  Parker stopped, shifting on his feet and sticking his hands into his pockets, trying to figure out how to say what he wanted to say.

  “Hey, man. You got a minute?”

  Ian looked up at him for a moment, shrugged, and finished up tying his boot. When Parker had his attention, he took a deep breath and bit the bullet.

  “I’m sorry for taking a shot at you.”

  “S’okay.” Ian shrugged and started on the other boot.

  “Nah, man. It’s not. I know how things must have looked and where you were coming from and I acted like an ass.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “It’s a long story, but let’s just say I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly and I went a little nuts.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Parker bit back his smart remark and took a deep breath to reign in his frustration before continuing. “So, we good?”

  “You good?” Ian asked, crossing his arms and arching a dark brow. Parker knew what meant, and had to respect the guy for making a point to ask.

  “Yeah, we’re good. I apologized and… we’re good.” Parker tried to control his smile, but he must have failed because Ian gave him a shrewd look and nodded once.

  “Good. Don’t fuck it up and we’ll be fine.”

  “Wow. Nine whole words. I think that’s the most I’ve ever heard you say all at once.” Parker grinned.

  Another weight lifted, he couldn’t help but feel good. Ian rolled his eyes and shook his head, but Parker thought he saw the tiniest of twitches at the corner of his mouth.

  Damn. He might have a sense of humor, after all.

  His phone rang, and he fished it out of his pocket, answering it without looking at the screen. Amanda usually called around this time if she was at work because it was when she took her break.

  But it wasn’t Amanda’s voice on the other end of the line.

  “Mr. Hanson? Please don’t hang up!” The voice was more exasperated than pleading, but as soon as he recognized it he swore.

  “Before you hang up, please just let me tell you what I need to say so I can stop calling you. Because believe me, I won’t stop calling you until you let me talk to you for five minutes.”

  Parker took a deep breath and decided to just get it over with.

  “Fine. Five minutes,” he said curtly.

  “Mr. Hanson,” she continued, her voice a little softer now. His stomach lurched as he had a premonition of what she was about to say. “I regret to inform you that your father has passed away.”

  There was a brief ringing in his ears and he shook his head to clear it.

  “When?” Parker asked. He was doing his best to ignore the storm that was gathering inside him.

  “Unfortunately, he died about nine months ago,” she replied. “It’s taken that long for me to track you down. I take it you and your father weren’t close?”

  “You could say that,” he replied, his voice hoarse.

  “Well, I’m sorry to hear that, but I do need to talk to you about his estate. There isn’t much, but we’re required by law to contact next of kin whenever possible. We have some papers that we’ll need you…”

  Parker stopped listening, the woman’s voice droning on in the background like white noise. He felt the cool metal of the lockers on his back as he leaned against them. He closed his eyes, squeezing them shut. His legs felt weak, and he let himself slide down the lockers until he was sitting on the floor.

  “Mr. Hanson?” the woman asked. “Are you still there?”

  “Yeah,” he croaked, swallowing hard.

  “Is that your correct address?” she asked, reading it off again.

  “Yeah. Send me whatever I need to sign.”

  “Do you have any questions?” she asked.

  “How?” It was suddenly important to know how he’d died.

  “Uh…” There was a sound of ruffling paper on the other end of the line. “Unknown causes. It was an unattended death.” Meaning he’d died alone. Parker couldn’t help a huff of laughter that escaped him.

  “Seems fitting,” he muttered.

  “I… don’t know what to say.”

  “Nevermind. Send the papers, I’ll sign them. Whatever there is, I don’t want it.”

  “You don’t want anything?” she asked.

  “No. Donate it, turn it over to the state, I don’t care.”

  With that, he hung up, unable to muster enough energy to continue the conversation. He looked up and noticed that Ian was still there. He was sitting on the bench, leaning forward with his arms resting on his legs, his hands dangling between his knees.

  He was watching Parker carefully as if he was a ticking bomb just waiting to go off. Parker couldn’t figure out why. He felt totally numb. Then he realized that his knuckles were white, and his phone was creaking dangerously because he was gripping it so tightly.

  He looked at his hands, examining them as if they belonged to someone else. He made a dispassionate survey of his body and was perplexed to find that his heart was pounding in his ears and heat was beginning to replace the cold that had filled his chest moments before.

  “You okay?” Ian asked carefully.

  “Uh, yeah. Fine,” Parker replied, climbing to his feet. “My old man died.”

  Saying it out loud sounded strange and he stood still for a moment, trying to wrap his head around it.

  “Sorry.” Ian stood up and stuck his hands in his pockets. Parker laughed bitterly at the thought that anyone would offer sympathy at a time like this. He should be throwing a fucking party to celebrate.

 
“Don’t be. I hadn’t talked to him in… fifteen years. The world’s better off without him.”

  And Parker meant every word, but something was nagging at him. This sharp, stabbing feeling in the center of his chest. Parker wouldn’t allow it to be pain. He should be feeling nothing but relief right now. He should be thrilled, ecstatic that the son-of-a-bitch who’d fathered him was dead and buried.

  Parker shoved his phone back in his pocket before he had to pay for a cracked screen and stalked over to his locker. He whipped the door open and started gathering his things and shoving them into his gym bag.

  He was aware of the door opening and Ian telling whoever it was to get out. The door closed again and Parker looked over his shoulder at the big man. He was still standing there, just watching him.

  “I’m fine,” Parker told him. Although he’d had to unclench his jaw to say it, which might have made it less convincing.

  “You sure?” Ian asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “Yes, Goddamnit,” Parker shouted. “I’m just fucking peachy. I’m only sorry I didn’t answer the first time she called. Could have celebrated a lot sooner.”

  Parker slammed his locker shut.

  “I just wish I had the chance to lay into him about all the shit he did in his life. I missed my shot to take a strip out of his hide, is all.”

  Parker’s mind and heart finally caught up to what his body was telling him and his vision blurred. Before he could think, his fist slammed into the locker door leaving a large dent smudged with red. His knuckles were torn and bleeding, but he welcomed the pain, just as he had as a hurt and angry sixteen-year-old kid.

  He punched the door again. And again. He felt a pop and idly wondered if he’d broken something, but he didn’t stop until a pair of arms wrapped around him, pinning his hands at his sides. Parker struggled, trying to jerk his body free. They only tightened until he could barely breathe.

  “Let. Go,” Parker growled, his voice thick.

  “No can do.” Ian was perfectly calm, and for some reason, that pissed him off.

  “Let me go,” Parker shouted. The door swung open and Jackson walked in, confusion and then fear written all over his face.

  “What the fuck?” Jackson asked. His whole body was tense as his eyes darted back and forth between the two of them. “Let him go, Ian.”

  “Look.” Ian nodded toward the locker. Jackson saw the dented, blood-smeared locker and noted Parker’s bloody knuckles.

  “Shit. What happened?”

  Ian shook his head. Parker was panting at this point, partially from Ian’s tight grip and partly because of the rush of conflicting emotions spiraling through him. It was a carousel from hell with a revolving array of anger, regret, pain, and guilt.

  “Talk to me, man. What’s going on,” Jackson asked, stepping between Parker and the mangled lockers. “Talk to me, buddy.”

  Parker didn’t trust his voice enough to speak even if he could have unclenched his jaw long enough to try. He just looked at his best friend, the only family he had, and shook his head. He probably looked as lost as he felt, but for once he didn’t care. He could have held anything in if he’d tried. He’d been under too much pressure for too long.

  “Okay,” Jackson said, putting a hand on either side of his neck and squeezing gently. “Whatever it is, it’s going to be okay, man. We got you.”

  Parker let out a strangled sound as his eyes began to water.

  “Let him go,” Jackson said over Parker’s shoulder. Ian slowly released him and Parker took a deep breath. And nearly collapsed. Jackson wrapped him in a tight hug, and Parker held on like his life depended on it, which it probably did.

  Ian walked over and leaned back against the door, propping one foot against the wooden surface. It didn’t have a lock, but with Ian blocking it, there was no way anyone else was getting in until he let them.

  After a moment, Jackson sat him down on the bench and took a seat next to him, putting an arm around his shoulder as Parker buried his face in his hands.

  When he’d calmed down enough to speak, he decided it was time. Jackson had been there for him for half his life. They’d been through everything together and he deserved to know.

  Parker took a few steadying breaths and let it all out. He stumbled over his words at first, but the more he talked about it, the easier it got. And the more he talked about his father, the more confused he got about what he was feeling.

  He pushed his jumbled emotions aside and told him everything. Well, almost. Parker didn’t tell Jackson the real reason he’d joined the Marines. Jackson would have chewed him out and then carried around the guilt of what might have happened.

  Not to mention the fact that if he ever found out he’d been practically suicidal, he’d probably be watching him like a hawk for the rest of his life. Nope, that detail he was taking with him to the grave. Amanda was the only one who would ever know.

  The thought of her gave him another set of mixed emotions that he wasn’t prepared to deal with just then.

  “Jesus,” Jackson muttered, scrubbing a hand over his face. He’d sat in silence, a look of horror and rage growing steadily more noticeable as his story went on. Now that Parker was done with his story, Jackson was pale and his hands were shaking slightly. “I knew it had to be bad, but that… Jesus, Parker.”

  “So, now you know,” Parker replied, keeping his eyes fixed on the tile floor. He counted the drops of blood that were collecting underneath his hand. It had dripped on his boots, his jeans and he was sure his shirt probably had a streak or two.

  “May he rot in hell,” Jackson spat.

  Parker’s eyes went wide and he stared at his best friend. Jackson’s mother was Mexican and very Catholic. What he’d just said was probably the biggest no-no Parker could think of.

  “Don’t tell mom,” Jackson added, looking a little surprised himself that he’d actually said such a thing. Parker chuckled weakly, Jackson smiled, and just like that, Parker knew that nothing had really changed between them.

  It felt good that Jackson knew, but he was still left with the aftermath of the news about his father and he had no idea where to even begin to deal with it.

  “Come on,” Jackson said, standing up. “Let’s get that hand checked out before it swells anymore.”

  Parker nodded, suddenly exhausted. The adrenaline that had shot through him had faded away and he was bone tired.

  He’d go to the hospital and get it looked at because that was the only way he’d get Jackson off of his back about it. If he refused it would turn into a whole thing and he’d end up going eventually after Jackson bullied and nagged him into it.

  They rode to the closest Emergency Room and waited in silence. Parker’s injury wasn’t life-threatening, which meant they waited for hours to be seen. By the time he’d been called back, waited for another hour in a private room, saw the nurse, waited another half an hour, saw the doctor, went for x-rays, and then waited for the x-rays to be read by the radiologist, it was after eleven.

  His hand wasn’t broken, but he’d needed thirteen stitches. He’d had plenty of time to think while he waited, but he hadn’t figured out anything except that he needed to see Amanda. As soon as they let him go, he texted her and told her he was coming to pick her up and to wait for him at the restaurant. They were both off tomorrow and had already planned to spend the day together so they might as well start now.

  And the way he felt, sleep was probably all that would happen, so it didn’t even matter that Jackson was heading back with them. But that was okay. He just needed to be near her.

  Jackson agreed to swing by and pick up Amanda and Parker climbed into Jackson’s Hummer and closed his eyes. Hopefully, the next thing he’d see when he opened them would be the woman he loved. Maybe then he’d be okay.

  ✽✽✽

  Amanda had been worried ever since she’d tried to call Parker on her break and he hadn’t answered. It didn’t help that he’d never called her back, either. He’
d texted her half an hour ago to say he would pick her up from work, but he hadn’t seemed like himself.

  She’d been anxious about what the other guys might say to him once they found out that they were dating. And it was only a matter of time since Connor and Jackson knew. Guys were dumb and they said dumb things to each other. All the time, really.

  She was probably way overreacting. Parker was a grown man and he’d been dealing with these guys for years. They were his friends. Hell, they were almost like family. He’d be fine with a little good-natured ribbing and she doubted if anyone would really say anything negative.

  And if he wasn’t himself right now, there could be a dozen reasons why. He could just be tired, he could be busy, he could be hangry. Who knows? So, why couldn’t she shake the feeling that something was wrong? Seriously wrong.

  She checked her phone for the fifth time in the last ten minutes and saw that there were still no new texts or calls. Jorge had just finished up and was walking past her down the alley when he stopped.

  “You waiting for someone?”

  “Yeah. My boyfriend is picking me up,” she replied. She couldn’t help the smile that crossed her face. It was the first time she’d had the opportunity to say that out loud and it felt good. Now if only Parker would show up so she’d know he was okay and she could properly enjoy it.

  “Ah, congrats,” Jorge said with a smile.

  “Thanks.”

  “You want me to wait with you?”

  “Nah, he should be here any minute.”

  “Alright. Have a good night.”

  Jorge turned out of the alley and Amanda checked her phone again. Still nothing. She heard footsteps on the sidewalk and started walking toward them. She expected to see Parker walk around the corner looking for her, but it wasn’t Parker. Amanda stopped dead in her tracks.

  “Whatever you’re going to say, I don’t want to hear it.”

  Colin was walking toward her, hands in the pockets of his designer slacks. He had some goddamn nerve coming here after the threats he’d made. The only acceptable reason for him to ever speak to her again would be to grovel. But Colin wasn’t the groveling type.