by Nia Arthurs
“Heath, there you are.” Dad surges forward but bucks against his human restraints. With an exasperated sigh, he grunts. “Tell Kastle to stop being ridiculous and let me in.”
“What are you doing here, dad?” My voice is quiet, but there’s a storm beneath the words.
“What kind of stupid question is that? I’m here to see my daughter.”
I flinch.
Kastle fists his hands. “I already told him to go home, but he insists on making a scene.”
“It’s her birthday.” Dad struggles against the mascots. “It’s her damn birthday, Heath. Have a heart.”
“Where were you the day she was born, dad? Did you fight to be by her side then?”
His gaze drops to the grass. “I’m not proud of the choices I made. I hate myself everyday for hurting her, but that’s not an excuse to keep myself from getting up and trying again. She deserves to have her father in her life.”
“She has a father!” I snap.
Fury whips through my veins. I feel like a soda bottle shaken to its limits and someone’s about to snap the cap off.
“Why now?” I ask, a crack in my voice. “Why are you acting out, dad? Can’t you go back to your life of fame and fortune? Can’t you just forget we exist?”
“Grampa?”
Every vein in my body pulls tight.
A bucket of ice cold water wouldn’t have shocked me more.
“Glory,” I whisper, spinning around.
My daughter stands to the side of the gate, her eyes glued to dad. She’s in her fancy pink T-shirt and her fluffy skirt. There’s a party hat on her head and a sparkle in her eyes. She offers a warm, welcoming grin.
“You’re my grandpa, right? I saw videos of you and Uncle Kastle on that show. You’re him, right? My grampa.”
“No, Glory. I’m your—”
“Shut up!” I surge forward and grab dad by the collar. “Shut your mouth!”
Brenna hesitates before kneeling to Glory’s level. “Honey, why don’t we go and see if they’re ready to cut the cake?”
“Why is my dad choking grampa?” Glory cries, her eyes wide in horror.
Brenna remains calm and gently rubs Glory’s shoulder. “The grown-ups need to talk things out. It’d be better if we give them some space to do that. Can you give your dad some time?”
Glory nods even as tears pool in her eyes.
Watching my baby girl in distress is like having my heart torn straight out of my chest.
My fingers dig deeper into dad’s throat.
He starts to choke.
And, all through the chaos, Brenna is a soothing voice. An anchor in the storm.
She caresses Glory’s braids. “I’m sure he’d be very sad to see you crying on your birthday. Hm?”
“I’m scared,” Glory whimpers.
Pain washes over me.
Dad slaps my hand. “You’re… choking…”
I loosen my hold.
Behind me, Glory and Brenna walk away hand-in-hand.
The moment they’re gone, I shove dad roughly. He goes flying to the side, coughing and clutching his now-wrinkled collar.
“You can’t hide the truth forever, Heath.” He massages his neck. “She’s going to find out sooner or later.”
“Not if you stay the hell away from us.”
“You don’t get to make that call,” Dad hisses, his eyes wild. “You don’t get to keep me from my daughter, Heath!”
His words ignite my fury.
I raise my fist, itching to let the punch fly.
Kastle rushes in front of me, his eyes narrowed to slits and his jaw clenching. “Heath, that’s enough.”
“Step aside.”
“Enough.” Kastle barks.
I grit my teeth and slowly lower my fist.
“You too, dad.” Kastle glances over his shoulder. “You’ve done enough for today. You should leave.”
“Do you think it’ll end like this?” Dad shrieks.
Kastle nods at the mascots.
They start to drag my father away.
“I tried to play nice with you, Heath! What happens next is on you! It’s on you!”
My lips arching into a sneer, I step forward.
Kastle slaps a hand against my shoulder to keep me back. “He’s trying to bait you into starting a fight.”
“And why the hell shouldn’t I give him what he’s asking for?”
“Because he’ll use it against you,” Kastle says. “Because he’s not worth losing Glory.”
I run a hand through my hair as a groan tears out of my lips. “What do I do, Kas? He almost told Glory…” I stop because the very thought leaves my heart in tatters. “He almost told Glory everything.”
“Well, then,” my brother rests a hand on my back, “maybe you should tell her first.”
His words are a sucker-punch to the gut. “She’s too young.”
“Heath, you know how smart Glory is. And you heard her. She found out about our family through the internet. She’s not as oblivious as you think.”
“Still…”
“I’m not saying you have to do it now. Just… think about it.”
We return to the party, but it takes a lot out of me to smile for the pictures and remain as upbeat as I can for Glory. She watches me closely and I can tell she’s trying to figure out what happened with my dad.
I don’t mention it and neither does she.
Mercy waddles up to me after Glory’s finished cutting the cake. “I heard about the intruder.”
“You mean my dad?”
She nods. “You okay?”
“Not really,” I whisper. “Glory has questions.”
“You have answers.” She arches an eyebrow.
“You think I should tell her too?” I ask.
Mercy inhales deeply. “I think that you’re her father and nothing is going to change that.”
“The law can change that. And if dad takes this to court, all our family’s issues will be front page news. Glory won’t be a normal kid anymore. She’ll be a blurred-out face on gossip tabloids. She’ll have to live with people’s comments about her life and her worth. The story will follow her to high school and college. It’ll be what pops up first when she goes to get a job. I—” My hands find my hair and tug. “I can’t do that to her, Mercy.”
Mercy pats my back. “Don’t push yourself, Heath. The answers will come.”
“Hey.” Brenna strides toward me. Glory is holding her hand tightly. My little girl avoids my eyes and my heart shatters again.
“Hey, sweetie. Have you gotten a piece of the cake?” I ask.
She nods sharply.
“How about we head home and start unpacking these presents?”
“I want to go with Steph.”
Her rejection stings, but I try not to let it show. “Oh…”
“The Make It Marriage crew is heading to Brew Drop next,” Brenna explains. “They said something about meeting Asia, Nellie and Ina for couple’s game night. It sounded like fun.”
“Do you want to go?” I ask Glory.
She nods, staring at something just beyond my shoulder.
My heart clenches. “Okay, sweetie.”
“I’ll go with her.” Mercy steps forward. “Make sure there aren’t any issues with unwanted visitors again.”
“I’d appreciate that,” I say softly.
Glory looks up at Brenna. “Do you want to come?”
“I think,” Brenna glances at me, “I’ll keep your dad company until you get back. If that’s okay with you.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Glory says glumly.
I watch her take Mercy’s hand and walk away.
“Glory!” I call.
She stops. Turns around.
My eyes fall on her tiny face. “Daddy loves you.”
“Grampa loves you too. You shouldn’t have yelled at him,” she responds tightly.
With that, Glory stomps across the yard, holding Mercy’s hand as they both disappear.
I stumble back, unable to breathe.
Brenna rushes to my side. “She’s just confused. She doesn’t understand what’s going on.”
“Yeah,” I mutter.
But I’m not so sure.
And I fear that, in the fight to keep my daughter, I’ll lose her instead.
Twenty
Brenna
The evening breeze blows my hair into my face. I toss my head, trying to get the long, coily strands out of my eyes.
My toes sink into the squishy, wet sand and, every so often, a wave churns close enough to wash our feet clean before rolling back into the ocean.
I inhale the salty air, leaving Heath to his thoughts.
It’s hard to imagine what he’s going through with his father threatening to take Glory away and his daughter demanding answers he can’t give.
Since we’ve driven to the beach, he’s told me everything about Glory and his family. I didn’t tell him that Kastle and Kaelyn had already informed me. I listened and I held his hand while he let the words out in dry, cold facts that don’t even scrape the surface of everything he’s been through.
Heath shrugs out of his jacket and places it over my shoulders. “Your turn. Tell me something. Anything.” He sighs heavily. “Get me out of my head.”
“What do you want to know?”
He glances at me, a glimmer of a smile on his lips. It’s not a full-blown smirk, but it’s progress. “What exactly do you do?”
“Really? You want to start a fight?” I pretend to throw a punch.
“I’m genuinely curious.”
“I’m a historian of sorts.”
“Of sorts?” He arches an eyebrow.
“I worked at the museum for a while, but it wasn’t where I wanted to be. I knew I had a specific focus—African studies.”
He tilts his head. “What drew you to African studies?”
“I grew up with my grandmother.” I smile, remembering days in our small house, knitting, reading and dancing to old souls music. “She did her best, but I always felt like something was missing.”
“Where were your parents?”
“My mom died when I was four and my dad, well, he didn’t believe that the kid he helped create was his responsibility to care for.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. It just is what it is.” I admire the dazzling sunset. Explosions of orange, pink and red. “I wanted to feel like I belonged to something. That I was connected to more. That’s when I found out just how far African ancestry went. There’s not a lot of data available for some periods, but there’s enough to piece a story together.” I smile softly. “My story.”
“Was it just you and gran the whole time?” Heath asks.
I stiffen. “N-no.”
Heath stops. “You have a sibling? I’ve never heard you mention one before.”
“That’s because… she died.”
“Hey,” Heath caresses my knuckles with his thumb, “it’s okay. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
The temptation to hold myself back is strong. Can I really trust him? Is he really the person I can rely on? The one I can share this burden with?
That quiet, niggling hope makes me open my mouth. “I was… supposed to be watching my sister that day.”
He nods. The wind flaps at his button-down. Tendrils of his golden hair fling over his face.
“She was playing outside and I was doing my homework. I saw her through the window.” The rest of the words get stuck in my throat and images flash before my eyes.
Deshawna running into the middle of the road.
The car zooming around the curb.
The shriek of tires.
The sickening thud.
My voice breaks. “She got hit by a car.”
“Bren…” Heath rubs my back.
“I remember everything so clearly.” I stare into the ocean. “She was wearing a green blouse with little ruffles along the hem. She had a matching leggings with cheetah print. She loved that outfit. She… she wore it everywhere.” I huff out a breath. “She’d just gotten her hair braided. There were little clips at the ends, but you couldn’t see them. There was too much blood. So much…” I sob. “So much blood.”
“Hey.” Heath pulls me into his chest and gives me a hug. “It’s okay.”
“Her eyes…” My entire body shudders. “She held her hand out to me. Those little fingers… they were covered in blood. Her entire face.”
Heath rubs my back until I’m calmer and then he asks, “What happened to the driver?”
“He got arrested.” I try to sniff, but my nose is too stuffed.
“And your grandmother?”
“Heartbroken.” My eyes hit the sand. “She died a few years later, but she blamed herself.”
Heath’s chin rasps against my forehead. “That’s why you were so fearless when you ran after the little girl at the construction site that day.”
“I didn’t want the same thing to happen to someone else.”
He strokes a hand over my hair. “It wasn’t your fault, Bren.”
“That’s not true.” I shake my head. “And I don’t think I could ever forgive myself.”
“I always tell Glory,” he inches me back so I’m looking at him, “that when she feels scared or overwhelmed, it’s okay to run away.” He smiles faintly. “No matter what anyone says, it’s okay to take your time and wait until you’re strong before you come back and fight.” He rests his forehead against mine. “But you always come back and fight. No matter how long it takes. You never give up.” He traces his finger from my cheek to my ear. “It’s not your fault, Bren.” He rubs his hands over my arms and groans. “I hate seeing you cry.”
I laugh softly.
“What?” he asks, his green eyes steady.
“I just… it’s starting to feel easy.”
“But it got a lot more complicated.”
“Complicated is bad.”
Our gazes tangle and I dive deep into the oceans trapped in his eyes.
My heart settles.
In that moment, I realize that I’m not scared.
His voice drops to a whisper as his hands settle on my hips and pull me closer. “Here’s the good news.”
“Oh?”
“I’m a simple man. No matter how complicated things get, I’ll always like what I like.”
“You’re predictable.”
He brushes my hair back as his nose lightly slides against mine. “I’m steady. You can trust that.”
“I want to.”
“Good,” he says before our lips meet for the second time today.
My heart beats so loudly that I’m sure he can hear it. I’m sure he’s going to disengage his lips, bend down to my chest and tell it to sh.
But he doesn’t.
His lips are insistent.
Unlike the fervent clash in the storage closet, this kiss is a sweet, rolling wave. A meeting of our hearts as well as our bodies. The cadence makes perfect sense to me. The timing. The taste.
His hands descend on my body.
They get a little rougher. A little harder.
His jacket falls to the sand at my feet.
I slide my hands over his chest. On his shoulders. Clasp them at the back of his neck.
Our lips pull and collide like waves in the ocean.
Like moonlight and gravity.
I rise to the tips of my toes, trying to drink in as much of him as I can.
The danger of falling isn’t jumping off the cliff.
It’s the crashing to the bottom that can steal your breath.
But it’s too late.
I’ve already taken the dive and I don’t have a freaking parachute.
I ease back, my arms still wrapped around him. “You can trust me too, you know.”
“I know.” His eyes make a languid perusal of my body. “Should I get you home now? You’re shaking.”
“I’m okay.”
; He bends over to pick up the fallen jacket, dusts it off and puts it back on my shoulders. “Have I told you how beautiful you look today?”
“Keep laying it on thick and I won’t invite you upstairs when I get home.”
He laughs.
I love the sound of it.
The way it deepens as he continues.
The way it makes his shoulders shake and his chest vibrate.
Tangled knots in my chest loosen at the sound. He hasn’t smiled, not sincerely, since we left Glory’s birthday party. Since his father showed up and almost spilled their big, family secret. Since Glory figured out on her own that something was wrong.
I want him to keep laughing.
Smiling.
That’s my mission for tonight.
I hold his hand and run across the beach like a giddy teenager.
On the drive back to my apartment, we caress each other. Hands on legs and sliding between thighs. Fingers tightening and searching. Exploring. Stroking. Tangling.
By the time we clamor up the steps of my apartment, I can barely catch my breath.
Heath swoops in while I’m searching for my keys and kisses me hard.
My pulse jumps.
I kiss him back, my hands falling on his cheeks.
He moans softly. “Brenna, open the door.”
“I’m trying,” I murmur against his lips. “But you’re so distracting…”
He stops and allows me to find the keys.
As soon as I open the door, he drags me in and throws me against the wall. My mouth sips hungrily of him. My fingers drag down over the buttons of his shirt. He tears at my jeans, his kisses sending electricity buzzing through my body.
Desire starts a flame in me.
I feel like I’m about to combust.
“Heath.” I gasp breathlessly as his fingers start to push my jeans down.
He pauses, his hair falling around his shoulders and his green eyes blazing.
“Don’t let me go,” I whisper, my heart creeping up into my voice.
He straightens and whispers in my ear, “Never.”
My body begins to shake from the promise alone.
The jeans scrunch to my ankles.
Followed by my panties.
And then Heath’s knees hit the ground.
He turns my body into something breathless and heavy.
