“Go on.”
“The one on my heart—it’s for the baby Violet and I lost. She has one just like it on her hip. Hell, all my tattoos are for what we went through.” He runs a hand across his face, staring up at the ceiling. “You can’t go through what we did and not have it stay with you forever.”
“Did you want to have… were y’all trying to have one?” I’m stupid for asking this, for asking something that I know will pierce my heart.
He shrugs. “We weren’t careful, so we didn’t care if it happened or not. It wasn’t like either of us couldn’t afford one, and I thought I was going to marry her.”
And just like that, I know he’ll never be mine.
No matter how many times he wants me to say it during sex. There will always be a part of him that belongs to Violet. But I can’t be completely mad at him. Not over losing a baby. Certainly not over being in love with a person I think is kind and good, and treated me with respect with her peers wouldn’t.
Still, my heart is shredded and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to mend it back together.
Chapter Sixteen
Jackson
I feel Bliss withdraw from me, before she actually scoots away. However, I don’t stop her from leaving our bed.
Instead, I stare at the ceiling and listen to the water running. The shower comes on and ordinarily, after making love like that to a woman—okay to Bliss, because I’ve never had sex like that before—this would be a perfect time for after-sex shower sex.
Then I hear it—muffled sobs. I shake my head. There’s no way she’s crying. Bliss never cries. Even the time I thought I heard her cry, she never did.
The water stops and so do the sobs. Maybe I’d imagined them after all.
Bliss walks in the room, and I turn to look at her. She’s wearing one of my t-shirts and a towel wrapped around her hair. Her glasses are foggy, hiding her pretty eyes from me.
“I’m not sleepy. I think I’ll go watch a movie in the living room,” she announces, but she doesn’t move from the spot beside me.
This is our defining moment. This is where I convince her that what I said has nothing to do with us, and everything to do with my personal feelings on what an ass I’d been to everyone. My feelings about my life up until now. Just everything.
But unlike in my songs, I can’t explain myself very well.
And this is also where I can let her go, pretend that nothing ever happened between us, and find a way for her stay in school, get a job, and an apartment.
I gaze at her, my mind made up. “Take off your glasses, baby doll.”
Hand trembling, she does, and I’m not shocked to find that her eyes are rimmed in red. Tears spills over one, and then another. She makes no move to wipe them away, but I do.
I jump up from bed and cup her sweet face in my hands. “I’m not in love with her anymore. I’ve barely thought of her, until you bring it up, and I’m not blaming you, just telling you what’s in my head.”
Another tear falls, and I kiss it.
“I haven’t cried in four years, Jackson,” she whispers. “The last time I cried, it was because Brian Corey beat me so bad that I could hardly move. I refused to cry after that, to give anyone the power to see me cry over them, and what they do to me.”
Acid pours in my gut, eating at me. I wish it would consume all of me, until nothing is left. The hell this girl went through is nothing compared to mine. Or in my mind it isn’t. “Then why are you crying now?”
“Because I gave you that power, and look at where it got me,” she sobs. “I can’t even compare to—to—Violet, and it doesn’t matter that you don’t love her, because she’ll always have a piece of you that I won’t.” She smashes her lips together and looks away.
My heart breaks for her. I can’t even breathe, because I’m hurting for her so bad. Falling to my knees, I press my head against her stomach, wrapping my arms around her. “You have all the power, not me. You have all of me. Every bit.”
Her hands go to my hair, gently stroking me. She’s always so careful, never rough unless I ask her. “I’m scared of what’s going to happen now.”
“No matter what happens, Bliss, I won’t leave you again,” I promise. “You’ll have to leave me.”
“You’d have to crush my heart before that would happen.”
“And you’d have to crush mine.” I stand up again, looking down at her. “You have my heart, and I’m trusting you with it.”
I can’t bring myself to say the words I love you, and it’s not because I don’t think she feels the same. I think she does.
But I’ve only said it to one other person and meant it. Really meant it. Now I’m not in love with that person anymore, and I wonder if by saying those three words to Bliss, if what I feel will diminish over time as well.
I don’t want to find out.
Bliss sighs, and then lifts up on her toes to kiss my cheek. “You’ve had my heart, too, Jackson. Now we just have to face the real world and see if we can hold on to them.”
“Come to bed with me,” I say.
“I’m a little sore,” she says with a shy smile.
“You’re not the only one,” I remark wryly.
She gapes at me. “Guys get sore?”
“Sensitive,” I correct, and she busts out laughing.
“Bless your heart, between that and your stomach, I don’t know how you carry on like you do.”
I roll my eyes as she climbs in our big bed. I get in too, settling beside her and pulling her into my arms. Her hand hovers over the bluebird tattoo, like she wants to touch me like usual, but she can’t bring herself to do it. So I place my hand over hers and press down, placing it directly over the tattoo.
A little sigh leaves her, familiar and sweet. I grin. “Sleepy now?”
“You’re so warm that I can’t help it.”
The power goes off, the lights come on, and then it goes dark again. The pattern repeats a few times, until it goes dark for longer than ten minutes and the generators start working again.
“Is it the generators?” she asks.
“Yes and no. I heard on the radio this morning that power crews from all over the country had come to Charleston to help out.”
“Cell phone towers can’t be far behind then.”
“Yeah.” Would it be wrong to pray for God to send another storm, one caused by Mother Nature, and not the clusterfuck that I have no doubt will happen?
Chapter Seventeen
Bliss
It feels as though I’ve barely been asleep before I’m shaken away.
I blink up at Jackson. He’s dressed, in a tailored shirt and dark slacks that make him look older. More powerful. I’ve never seen him like this, not even during the months on tour. Usually, he dressed all casual, in jeans and t-shirts.
Sitting up, I clutch the sheet to my chest. Silly, if I think about it, with everything we’ve done over the few days. The past few months while we were on tour, too.
His sexy blue eyes flicker over me. “Honeymoon’s over. The power’s back on and cell towers are working.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that it’s time to get back to the real world,” he says, and just like that, the man I’d come to love is gone. In his place is the one I recognize from the tour, arrogant and surveying his surroundings like some kind of king, but that attitude, along with his clothes, make me nervous. “Get dressed, baby doll. We‘re heading to Nashville today.”
He leaves the room and I stare at the empty space he’d just occupied. Throwing back the covers, I get out of bed and into the shower. Afterwards, I put on my prettiest outfit, the one I got married in.
I glance at the dresser. The ring he’d given to me is still sitting on the top where I’d left it. I grab it and slip it back where it belongs.
With my ring firmly in place, I walk to the living room. No one’s there, but before I can ask Jackson about it, there’s a whirring sound above the house.
; “Everett sent his helicopter.” Jackson comes up behind me, cupping my shoulders, turning me toward the side yard, and letting go. The tennis court doubles as a landing zone. “Can you handle flying?”
“I’ve never been on one before.” Or a plane.
“Welcome to the lifestyles of the rich and famous,” he says before grabbing our bags. My small duffle looks shabby beside his.
I follow him outside, to the helicopter waiting for us. He helps me inside, and I put on a large pair of headphones and my seatbelt, before he climbs in beside me.
Trying to keep my nervousness at bay, I glance at my husband. His jaw is hard, like his beautiful eyes, and my stomach flips.
But then he takes my hand, laces our fingers together, and smiles at me.
Maybe going back to the real world won’t be so bad.
*** *** ***
Jackson
My hand is on Bliss’ thigh and her head is resting on my shoulder. She’s been dozing in and out of sleep since Greenville, South Carolina. We’d boarded a private jet, and after take-off and a glass of wine, most likely her first, she’d promptly fallen asleep.
“Are we here?”
“Sleeping Beauty is awake.” I squeeze her leg.
My gaze zeroes in on the ring on her finger. I’m equal parts happy and annoyed to see it. It wasn’t made for her, and she deserves something that was. Then again, seeing the tangible proof of our marriage makes me feel all proprietary. Possessive.
“Do you live here?” she asks.
“Not since I was old enough to move out.”
“Are you dropping me off?” Her voice has become small and shaky. This must be familiar for her, to be taken to a strange place with everything she owns in the world and left on the doorstep like a package.
“Hell no.” I wrap one arm around her. “I wouldn’t leave Cole here, and I can’t stand him.”
“Wow. It must be bad.”
“You have no idea,” I mutter as the driver parks by the front door. I’m in no hurry to get out, so we sit there and wait for either the driver or someone from the house to come open the door.
“Then why are we here?”
“Everett and Kathy want to have dinner with us.” I’m sure there will be pictures sent to someone who cares, to put it out there that we’re one big, happy family.
“What should I call them?”
“What did you call Everett on the tour?”
“Mr. Morgan.”
Shit. Everett doesn’t deserve that kind of respect or subservience from her. “Call them whatever you want.”
“I don’t want to get it wrong and—”
The door opens, and instead of the driver standing there, it’s my dad.
Damn it.
“There’s my pretty daughter-in-law. Come inside,” Everett says, waving at us.
Bliss looks at me, and then back at Everett. I’m no help, because I have no idea what’s going on. One thing I do know—I don’t trust him at all. He’s never nice, unless he wants something.
Everett holds out his hand to Bliss and she takes it, leaving the car. I’m right behind her, taking her hand out of his and pulling her by my side.
My dad gives me a dark look. Now that I recognize.
“Hungry, Bliss?”
“Yes, sir.” She glances up at me. My dad’s gaze slides over her, and I want to punch him in the throat. “What about you, Jackson?”
“I’ve lost my appetite.” I fix my gaze on Everett. “We won’t be staying long.”
“Suit yourself.” He heads inside the house.
After a beat or two, I follow him, Bliss’ hand still firmly in mine. She looks pretty, wearing the same outfit she had on the night we got married, but in this house, it looks cheap and threadbare.
“I don’t have to eat right now,” she whispers. “Don’t stay here on my account.”
“Trust me. We won’t be here a second longer than we have to,” I say, not bothering to lower my voice. Sure I expect Everett to backhand me, but I also take comfort in the fact that he’s never hit me in front of anyone. And Bliss is certainly someone.
Everett keeps walking and it keeps getting brighter as we draw closer to the grand room in the center of the house.
“Surprise!”
Bliss actually screams, and I push her behind me, trying to protect her from… cameras flash and someone’s kissing my cheek, patting me on the back and hugging Bliss.
Well-wishers?
My wife edges closer to me, her body pressed into mine so hard that I can feel her trembling. There has to be a hundred people in the room, smiling at us and holding glasses of champagne. The women are dressed to kill, southern style, and the men are dressed like me, after-work casual.
Shit. Bliss is going to stand out… and not in a good way. My mother breaks from the crowd, diamonds on her ears and hands. Her blond hair is piled on top of her head. She looks healthy and… oh thank God, out of her mind on the latest drug prescribed by her “doctor”.
“Oh my gosh, would you just look at her.” Kathy takes Bliss’ hand from mine and twirls her around. “Isn’t she adorable?”
The other ladies in the room, friends of my mother and mothers of the friends they allowed me to have growing up, rush over. Oohing and awing over Bliss.
Convinced that she’s safe, at least for now, I search for a familiar face, only to find my dad.
Flashing Everett a grateful look as he passes me a tumbler of bourbon, I say, “Thank you.”
“Welcome.” He takes a sip from his glass. “You owe me.”
“For what—doping up Kathy so she’ll act like a normal person?” I set the glass down.
“That, and leaving the tour with her.” He tips his glass in Bliss’ direction. “Not to mention getting married without a pre-nup, staying married without one, and making me lose a shit-ton of money.”
“That tour was collapsing on its own, because you decided to bring on one of your new girls,” I point out.
Everett grunts. “Callie needed motivation.”
“Callie needs therapy, because of you.” I need therapy because of him and my mother.
“Look, I know we don’t see eye-to-eye, but I’ve never stolen a dime from you, I’ve never negotiated a bad contract, and I’ve always had your best interests at heart,” he says, gazing over the rim of his glass. A familiar move meant to make him look more thoughtful than he sounds. “Give me some credit, Jackson.”
“I’m not giving you any more than your fifteen percent.”
I spot Bliss. She’s wringing her hands together and looking back at me. She needs me, and we need to leave. I don’t care about this party, or the pile of presents I just spotted in the corner.
“Don’t.” Everett grabs my arm and digs his fingers into my skin. “Let Kathy enjoy this.”
I jerk out of his grasp. “Don’t. Ever. Touch. Me. Again.”
A look of admiration enters my dad’s eyes, and I want to puke. “Good to know Bliss didn’t castrate you. Make sure you keep her in line.”
“Women aren’t my enemy, you sorry fucker. You are.” Forcing a smile onto my face, I plunge into the crowd to get my wife.
Chapter Eighteen
Bliss
The majority of the women are giving me these fake little smiles. They remind me of Callie, Jackson’s ex, right before she would say something cruel to me.
Then the questions I never thought about answering start.
“How did the two of you meet?”
“On the tour.” Better to keep things simple and not elaborate. Most people will stop asking questions.
“You’re a singer?”
If she only knew how bad I sound when I sing. “No.”
Her brow creases. “Then what did you do?”
Guess that approach won’t work here.
“What didn’t she do?” another one says. My face grows hot.
“Shut up, Courtney.” My “savior” smiles at me. “She’s just jealous. Ignore her.”
<
br /> Kathy, Jackson’s mother, taps my nose. “She’s a college girl, attending my alma mater, Sweetland.”
“Spring Break’s over.”
“The storm shut everything down for a couple of days,” I say, relieved to be able to not have to resort to lying.
Kathy shoves a card in my face. “This came for you today, from the Governor. He’s a special friend of Everett’s.”
I take it from her. At first glance, I can only make out my name and Jackson’s.
“What does it say?”
“Read it, Bliss.”
“Oh yes, read it, sugar,” Kathy says, beaming at me like she’s a proud momma. But she’s not my momma, and I know what she used to do to Jackson. However, if he can tolerate her, then so can I. “Attention, everyone. My new daughter-in-law has something to share.”
The room goes quiet.
I look at the card again, but the entire thing is in cursive. The words blur in front of my eyes.
Jackson parts the crowd, like Moses parting the sea. Only the sea moves right back in place after him, and there are mermaids are trying to catch his attention.
Our gazes lock, and I want to cry in relief. He’s coming to save me.
“Let’s read this together, okay?” he says, wrapping me in his arms. “She’s very shy, unlike me,” he tells the crowd, and they laugh. Some of the older ladies sigh.
We read it together, me not really doing anything, but mumbling along. I have no idea what I’m reading, because the only thing I’m aware of is Jackson’s voice in my ear and his scent in my lungs.
“They are so cute together, Kathy. I love it.”
“You’ll have to take her under your wing, and show her the ropes.”
I don’t want to learn anything from Kathy. “Can we go home now?”
“Yes.”
We start to leave, but Jackson’s mother stop us. “Where are you going?”
True For You (Boys of the South) Page 11
