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Fighting Wrath

Page 22

by Jennifer Miller


  “I’ll help you. We’ll figure something out together, okay?” I nod and move closer, wanting to just be close to him again. To show him with my body how much I missed him, how much I love him. “Sydney, I want you to know that what happened when I lost control like that, the throwing and destroying of my place, that will never happen again. I’m not perfect, I’m not about to promise that I won’t have anger issues at times, I’m a work in progress, but what I did, was unacceptable and honestly, I understand if it’s something you can’t forgive. I saw the look of fear in your eyes and I never, ever want to be responsible for putting it there ever again.”

  Shaking my head, I cup his face in my hand, “I know, and I trust you. And I forgive you. Please forgive me too.”

  “I forgive you too.” We smile at each other, our eyes reflecting love we haven’t voiced. As if choreographed, we both come together at the same time. Soft kisses, gentle caresses, and a sweet desperation. Tyson picks me up and carries me into my room as I give him directions, realizing we’ve never been together here before. He kicks the door closed behind us and sets me down so he can lock it.

  Turning back to me, he looks at me for a moment, leans forward to kiss me quickly, then starts unbuttoning my sleeveless top. One slow button at a time, he kisses my flesh as more is revealed inch by inch. Sliding my shirt off my shoulders, I let it fall to the floor and then start backing up toward the bed. “I love you. I want you to make love to me, Tyson.”

  “I love you. So much. So fucking much.”

  He steps forward and we finish undressing each other. Stopping several times to press kisses here, and caress each other there. We have so much time to make up for and we move slowly as if savoring each and every second. I try to convey to him my every thought, my every dream, my every hope for the two of us through my actions. When we finally come together, we both exhale and murmur words of love to each other. I feel my heart start beating in time to his and our strokes, touches and kisses all feel like a promise for tomorrow.

  Afterward, we lie facing each other. “I’m having a hard time taking my eyes off of you,” he says.

  “Then don’t,” I suggest.

  Twirling my hair between his fingers, I can see hesitation on his face before he finally tells me what he’s thinking. “Part of me is afraid you’re going to disappear. That this is all a dream and if I look away, I’ll wake up and realize this never happened.” Leaning forward, I teasingly pinch his nipple. “Ouch!” he laughs and I join him.

  “See? Not a dream.” We smile at each other, but then I sober quickly, “Before I came here, I saw Sammy.” I begin to tell him about our visit and Tyson’s face conveys his wonder and emotion at hearing my words and seeing how moved I am by everything that happened. I explain how Sammy helped me realize how silly I was being. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m here, and I’m yours. Holding onto pain and anger and resentment, is not how I want to live. Not anymore. I’m sorry I didn’t hear you out sooner.”

  “You have nothing to be sorry for. I understand.” He rubs the side of my face and I close my eyes briefly at the sensation. I’m startled when Tyson suddenly gets out of bed. When I start to protest he smiles and holds up a finger at me to wait. He walks over to his clothes and pulls something out of his pocket. Returning to the bed, he hands me a little box and I look at him questioningly. “I’ve been carrying this around with me, hoping for a chance to give it to you.”

  “What is it?” I ask eagerly and begin to open it, but he stops me by placing a hand on mine.

  “Do you remember when you told me the story about your grandmother giving you a dream catcher?” I nod, eyes already welling at the memory. “Well, I got you this, because I want to be your dream catcher. I want to help you realize your dreams and the two of us, we can catch them together, and make them come true.”

  “Oh, Tyson,” I whisper and take the lid off the square box at his nod. Inside, on a silver chain is a miniature dream catcher. “I love it,” I whisper. I hold it to my chest and tears flow from my eyes. “It’s perfect.”

  “Let me,” he gestures to the necklace and I turn around so he can assist me in putting it on. He kisses the back of my neck when it’s on and I turn to face him again, looking down at the necklace first, then I practically throw myself into his arms and kiss him until we’re both breathless.

  “I love you, beautiful,” he whispers to me as we pull apart. When he pushes me down, and positions himself above me, I know he’s about to show me how much again. When he tucks my hair behind my ear in a gesture I missed so much it makes me hurt, I cup his face and smile up at him. “I love you too, Tyson. More than anything.”

  While I sit and shamelessly watch Tyson run on the treadmill at the gym, enjoying the way his muscles move with the movement, I reflect on everything that’s happened the last few months. So many things have changed and in many ways I feel like I’m dreaming and am afraid to wake up.

  Almost immediately after Tyson came back, he quit his job at the garage and established his own car rebuilding business. His excellent reputation got around – partly thanks to Kip – and he’s had no trouble making it his full time job. People come from all over the place to have Tyson fix their cars or for help rebuilding them, and he’s loving every minute of it. Being his own boss suits him just fine. His flexible schedule provides more freedom for his MMA training, which is really important. He finally had his first professional fight in the cage and it was a raving success. Not only did he kick ass, but his popularity shot through the roof and he’s already got three more fights lined up. Watching him train has become one of my favorite past times. Hmm, I take that back. Jumping his bones after I watch him train has become a favorite past time.

  “What are you smiling at?” Tyson pants.

  “Oh nothing,” I give him a salacious smile and his eyebrows rise.

  An adjustment, but also a relief was when I quit my job at the Pink Kitty more than a month ago. Tyson surprised me with a long weekend in San Diego. Among other things, he took me to the ocean. It was a perfect day. What an easy way to butter me up and talk to me about a plan he had contrived. Apparently, Tyson’s been saving money for years. It became a habit when he started saving for his and Rowan’s escape. He was smart and invested some of it and the pay off has been substantial. He told me that he’d like me to quit stripping and focus full time on completing my degree. He told me he loves me and part of his job is to take care of me and he wanted to do so by helping me catch my dreams of becoming a social worker. He offered to support me and Sammy, while I finish school, so I can get a job helping kids that have had a life like we all endured. I want to help take children out of bad home situations and find them loving homes instead.

  I didn’t immediately agree, and the time I spent still working at the Pink Kitty wasn’t always an easy thing between us, but I did talk to Freddy and quit doing stage performances and lap dances. I hated doing them, and it was a way to show Tyson that I cared about his feelings too. Freddy was kind enough to let me be the bar tender many nights, so that actually provided good tips too. And Freddy says it’s actually been good for business. So a win-win. Eventually, I did agreed to Tyson’s help but not before he agreed to let me pay back every single cent. I don’t care how long it takes me to do it, it will happen.

  After the intense moment Sammy and I had when I realized he remembers his attack, Sammy’s never been the same. The doctors believe that he’s had some kind of breakthrough. That maybe what he saw on TV and the conversation we had, removed a block that was hindering change. He’s communicating better all the time, his vocabulary is extending, and he’s able to be even more self-sufficient. He will likely never be fully age appropriate, but his cognitive skills are much greater than we ever thought possible. With additional therapy, who knows what will occur. The best part is that I take him out of his home a lot. Giving him more social stimulation has been very therapeutic. He stays the weekend with Tyson and me twice a month, now that we live together, bu
t what he loves even more is going to the gym with Tyson. It wasn’t long before Jax offered Sammy a job, and after Tyson and Jax spoke with me about an opportunity for Sammy and how they thought it would be good for him, I talked to Sammy’s doctor about it and we all agreed. And, perhaps not surprising, it’s been the best thing for him. He now is an assistant, as they call him, helping people by retrieving water, towels and by wiping down the equipment between users. He even greets people at the counter on occasion. They give him all kinds of little jobs around the gym and they pay him for it. The guys all treat him like he’s one of the gang and Sammy has never been happier, and I haven’t either.

  “Babe, I’m going to go spar with Ryder,” Tyson tells me as he gets off the treadmill. Enraptured by the sight of my man from head to toe as he walks toward where I’m sitting, I nod and then smile after he places a kiss on my lips.

  I flip through another page in my magazine knowing I should join them in a work out too but really not feeling like it. “Sydney, hey,” Rowan yells from the other side of the room.

  Smiling, I walk over to the counter where she is, and lean against it. Tyson told me that when he returned from anger management therapy, Rowan yelled at him for days. She yelled at him about the underground fighting, yelled at him about leaving and blowing up the way he did and yelled at him some more when she found out everything that he’d been holding onto. Through a joint therapy session Tyson told Rowan what happened with their father. It was something he never wanted her to know, but it was imperative to his recovery. He couldn’t hold onto that anymore. Rowan no longer needs protecting – not from that – or likely anything really. And if she does, that is now realized as Jax’s role. In fact, their relationship is stronger than ever, and they are both so much happier and healthier for it.

  “Hey, how are you? Where’s Lily?”

  “Oh she’s with the sitter today. I have a lot of work to get done and it was just easier.”

  “Well Tyson and I were just talking this morning about coming and picking her up soon for a date.”

  “Any time, you know that.”

  We continue to carry on, making small talk until I feel a yank on my sleeve. “Sydney.”

  “What’s up, Sammy? You need help with something?” He’s been busy at work since Tyson and I brought him here a little while ago.

  “Is Tyson my brother now?”

  Laughing nervously, I feel confused as to where this question is coming from. “What?”

  “Is Tyson my brother now?” He says it more slowly as if maybe I didn’t hear him clearly the first time.

  “No. Tyson isn’t your brother. He’s your sister’s boyfriend.” His head tilts to the side and I flounder for an explanation. “Tyson and I love each other very much, but for him to be your brother-in-law we’d have to get married. Maybe someday…” I trail off with a shrug having no idea what else to say. A laugh bursts out from me when Sammy rolls his eyes at me in exasperation.

  Pointing behind me, he sighs and asks again, “Is he going to be my brother now?”

  Looking away from him, I look at Rowan seeking help. But she’s just smiling at me too, then looks over my shoulder. Spinning around, my heart stutters in my chest when I see Tyson on bended knee holding a ring box out to me with the biggest smile on his face. Behind him, Jax, Ryder, Levi, Cole, Zane, and Dylan all stand in a row, each sporting large grins and holding signs that spell out “We Want A New Sister, Say Yes.” I laugh and the towel I was holding in my hand falls to the ground and I can hear Sammy clap his hands.

  “Sydney, you are the love of my life. I never thought that I could find happiness with someone like I have in you. And with all the other things I was dealing with, I never thought I’d be worthy of love like this. Somehow, you’ve managed to look past all of that and you love me. We each have a past, a story that has made us who we are, but now, I want us to keep creating a new story - our story - together. I love you, beautiful. Will you marry me?”

  Falling to my knees, I nod my head, “Yes, yes, Tyson. I will marry you.” He places the ring on my finger, I can feel it, but I just stare at him. When it’s there, I pounce. Wrapping my arms around him I kiss him and kiss him, never wanting to stop. I can hear muffled sounds of everyone cheering around us, but I’m too lost in him to care.

  Pulling away from me he holds my face in his hands, “I love you so much. You do realize though that all those assholes are kind of a package deal, right?”

  “I’m getting that,” I laugh.

  Gesturing to the ring he shyly asks, “Do you like it?”

  Looking at the ring for the first time and taking in the platinum princess cut antique design I nod my head enthusiastically. “I love it. And I love you.”

  He kisses me again, as we begin the first chapter of our new story.

  THE END

  Holy hell, I can’t believe this book is finished! I’m totally happy dancing right now. This was a tough one for me, and a lot of prayers were said throughout this journey. If it wasn’t for some fantastic people in my life, I would still be staring at a blank page. My husband and daughters, you are my biggest blessings. I’m so lucky to have you. You push me, make me stronger and always cheer me on along the way. To my mom, thanks for pushing me and helping me keep my eye on the end goal. To Gypsy Rae Choszer, Angela Corbett, Jennifer Domenico, Cora Brent, and Jess Peterson thank you for your constant encouragement and your unwavering friendship.

  As always, it takes a group to publish a book. Big heartfelt thanks to Robin with Wicked by Design for my amazing covers. To Cindy aka Mom thank you for knowing me so well and pushing me to do better with your edits. Elaine with Allusion Graphics, thank you for always making my books beautiful on the inside. Fran, with Twin Sisters Rockin’ Book Reviews, thank you for all your hard work promoting and handling my party.

  To my street team, you girls are the greatest. Thank you for always being up for anything! A special shout out to Toni Myers, Jennifer Santoro, and Sarah Amante for ALWAYS sharing my books with anyone and everyone.

  To all my readers, thank you so much for taking a chance on me. Your support through emails, facebook messages, tags, etc., mean more to me than you can imagine. YOU keep me going for YOU are the ones I write for - THANK YOU!

  Author Jennifer Miller was born and raised in Chicago, Illinois but now calls Arizona home. Her love of reading began when she was a small child, and only continued to grow as she entered adulthood. Ever since winning a writing contest at the young age of nine, when she wrote a book about a girl with a pet unicorn, she’s dreamed of writing a book of her own. The important lesson she learned about dreams is that they don’t just fall into your lap – you have to chase them yourself. Most importantly, she is a wife and mother, and is very lucky to have a family that loves and supports her in all things. She also has an unhealthy addiction to handbags and chocolate covered strawberries, neither of which she cares to work on. For more information about Jennifer Miller, please visit www.jennifermillerwrites.com

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  Other books by Jennifer Miller

  Pretty Little Lies

  Amazon | Barnes & Noble | iTunes

  Pretty Little Dreams

  Amazon | Barnes & Noble | iTunes

  Pretty Little Vows – A Novella

  Amazon

  Perfect Little Plan

  Amazon | Barnes & Noble

  Whispering Wishes

  Amazon | Barnes & Noble

  Fighting Envy

  Amazon | Barnes & Noble | iTunes

  “You’ll never be anything spec
ial. Do you hear me, Rowan? No one will ever love you. No man will ever stay. You’re worthless, good for nothing.”

  Words I’ve heard over and over again so many times, I’ve lost count. How could I have thought today would be any different? It may be my sixteenth birthday, but the shameful truth is, my mother doesn’t care. It’s not special, not to her at least. Just another day.

  When I arrive home from school she’s actually sober for once. I’m momentarily excited and relieved thinking it will be a good night and just maybe it will be what I hope. The fact that she actually remembers that today is my birthday is a good sign. When she suggests that we go ahead and leave for dinner even though my twin brother Tyson isn’t home yet, I quickly agree. I’ll agree to anything if it means she will keep her good mood. I’ve learned any hesitance, disagreement or question can make her mood change in the blink of an eye, and I really, really don’t want that to happen today of all days.

  Feeling excited that she lets me pick my favorite diner, Al’s, to go to for dinner, I’m positive we are off to a great start. Maybe this birthday will be different. Maybe she’ll even take Tyson and I to get our drivers licenses this weekend so we don’t have to take the bus. I momentarily feel bad again that Tyson isn’t here because it’s his birthday too, but I just go with the flow and do what she wants me to do.

  Ordering my favorite BLT sandwich with fries, I happily begin digging into my food as soon as it arrives making small talk about my day. “I saw Tyson at lunch and he seemed like he was having a good day too. His friends even sang happy birthday to him. He acted like he didn’t like it – even started punching a couple of them, but I know the truth,” I laugh.

  My first warning came as she orders a beer. She drinks it quickly and promptly orders another, as the little hairs on the back of my neck rise in trepidation. Forcing myself to ignore the feeling and her drinking, I keep talking.

 

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