Finding Peace

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Finding Peace Page 3

by Emilia Finn


  Idiot.

  “Why don’t you both come over here? I know she’s sick, but she can rest on the couch and we can watch movies together. I was so looking forward to seeing you both, and Iz and Jim are still at the hospital. I’m lonely.”

  “What about Tink?”

  “She’s here.”

  “But--”

  “Come on, babe. Please. Or I’ll come to yours.”

  “No, don’t come over here. My house smells gross. Are you sure? Because we’re kind of a petri dish of germs right now.”

  “Yeah, come over. It’s just baby spew. Evie needs a hug and I want to give it to her.”

  I look down at Evie as she watches me talk, her eyes although tired and glassy, are also excited. I know she’s listening and I know she wants to go. She adores the Kincaid’s.

  I sigh again as I slump on my couch. I feel disgusting. My hair is dirty and messy. I probably smell. I’m wearing my scrappy sweat pants and a tank. I’m definitely not looking good for company.

  But still. It’s just Kit and Tink.

  “Evie’s sick?” I hear a male voice on Kit’s end and I hear her tell him yes.

  “That was Aiden,” she answers my unspoken thoughts. “He’s got a date tonight, so he’s devastated he can’t stay to hug his girlfriend.”

  I smile. My daughter won’t shut up about him. So much so, I get a little jealous sometimes. I’m just not sure who I’m jealous of. Her or him. “He’s not gonna be there?”

  “Aiden!” she calls out loudly and I jump in my chair.

  “What?”

  “What time you going out?”

  “Now. Why?”

  “No reason. That’s all. Have fun tonight,” she says with that smile in her voice again. She’s teasing him. “Nope, he’s heading out in a sec.”

  I roll my eyes. I know. I heard their conversation. The whole street probably heard their conversation. Not that it matters. The Kincaid’s are their whole street. They bought a damn gated community just for themselves.

  Oh, how the other half live.

  “Alright. We’ll come over soon,” I tell her, glad that I won’t have to meet him while looking and feeling like crap. “Want me to bring anything? Dinner?”

  Please say no. Please say no. Please say no. I can’t afford to feed them all. But I will. I won’t turn up empty handed.

  “Nope. Just bring yourselves. I’ll organize dinner.”

  “You’re definitely sure?”

  “It’s done, babe. Come over. You know the gate codes.”

  “Alright. Leaving soon.” I hang up and look at my daughter who has her first smile of the day. She’s sick as a dog, but she’s happy to get out of the house and see her friends.

  “Alright baby, let’s get up and go for a drive.”

  ~*~

  I turn in my seat and study Evie. She’s looking a little green around the mouth again and I feel awful. I know she wanted to come over, but as her mother, I should be making her do what’s good for her. Not what she wants.

  I stretch my arm between our seats and feel her clammy forehead, then along the neck folds her tiny toddler body still has. She’s warm. Not hot. But warm. “Are you feeling okay?”

  She nods weakly. “I okay, Mama. Not sick.”

  I watch her for a moment longer, knowing she’s fibbing, at least a little bit, but I also know the Kincaid’s will have kid’s medicine inside. I can give her some and hopefully that’ll make her feel better.

  I unclip my seatbelt, having just pulled into Kit’s driveway and I look around.

  It’s like a ghost town. There’s no car in Jim and Iz’s drive. They’re at the hospital, where Jim has been stuck for the last week and a half. He was hurt by a friend’s psycho ex and is now recovering.

  Aiden’s driveway is empty too – because I definitely checked to make sure he was gone. If his car was there I might have just turned back around and gone home.

  I know I don’t actually have to impress this man I don’t even know, but I feel like I should. I don’t know why I’m overthinking this.

  Bobby’s car is here, as is Jack’s beat up Rav. I turn in my seat and grab my keys from the ignition then I hop out and go to Evie’s door. She’s still in a five-point harness and can’t get out by herself yet.

  I unclip her, pulling her limp arms out one by one, and I lift her into my arms so our chests touch. She lays her head on my shoulder, sighing so heavy my hair tickles my neck. She’s wrecked.

  I grab puppy and my handbag from the backseat, then lifting my load with a grunt, I lean away and kick my door closed.

  Kit’s kid brother Jack must’ve been waiting for us, because he’s standing on the front porch, holding the front door wide open, then he takes my bag from my arm and puppy from my other hand.

  Despite his young age, only seventeen, he’s built like a fully-grown linebacker. He’s huge, his shoulders are broad, as is his waist. He’s not fat, barely an ounce of fat on him, but he’s big. I guess they got him into fighting in that prime growing age, because his body is huge and healthy. And to think he still has years of growing ahead of him.

  Jack peers down at Evie, his cute boyish smile lifting the side of his face and his longish hair falls into his eyes. “Hey, pumpkin.” He rubs her back softly. “You feeling sick?”

  She nods weekly, despite the sales pitch she gave me two minutes ago about not feeing sick, and when she doesn’t jump up excitedly like she normally would, her earlier lie is confirmed. Any other day, she would have already dumped me and gone to him.

  “Hey Jack.”

  “Hey. Come in.” He holds his arms out expectantly. “You want me to take her?”

  Evie groans, shaking her head and clinging to me tighter. “No.”

  “Guess not.” I smile apologetically but he just steps aside, unoffended, and follows me through the foyer into the living room.

  “Hey,” I tell the room at large as everyone looks up at me. Kit sits on Bobby’s lap on the single recliner to the right of the room, closest to the kitchen, and her best friend Tink sits on the long couch with her ‘he’s not my man’ man, Jon.

  The living room is big and open, way bigger than the one they had at Kit’s old house, but they’ve kept all the same furniture.

  The guys have installed a giant flat screen on the wall and I look up to find they’re watching the UFC. Which is what they’re watching most of the time, seeing as Bobby and Jim are both professional UFC fighters.

  Apparently Aiden is also a fighter but he never went pro. I’m not actually sure why, but from what I hear, he seems content to train the other two and to stay out of the limelight himself.

  “Aw, hey Evie.” Kit climbs out of Bobby’s lap and slaps his hand away as he grabs at her ass to pull her back. He smiles at her slapping hand but he lets her go and she walks to us.

  “Can I have a cuddle, baby?” Kit asks, basically cuddling us anyway, laying her face almost on my chest so she can meet Evie’s eyes, but Evie shakes her head and I sigh.

  I could have done this at home.

  “Take a seat,” Jon says, jumping up from his spot and taking my arm. He walks us to the chair he just vacated then gently pushes me down so I get comfortable with Evie resting on my chest.

  “Hey.” Tink scoots closer, looking into Evie’s eyes and she squeezes my track panted leg.

  “Hey.”

  “Want a drink?” Bobby asks, returning from the kitchen with a beer in one hand and a glass of wine in the other. I take the beer, to his surprise, and he flashes his own brand of boyish smile then passes the wine to Kit.

  “Thanks baby.” He squeezes her against his chest and kisses her brow on his way back to the kitchen again.

  “It’s kind of quiet around here.” Usually Jimmy is about and he’s the loudest of the bunch. Then there’s Bean, who’s still an infant and although a fairly content baby, still has her own set of loud lungs.

  Usually Jack has a couple friends over too; his best friends Callum and Mic
hael. Even though there are five people here, it just feels quiet.

  “Yeah, but we saw Jim today,” Bobby says, sitting down after passing a beer to Jon and wine to Tink, then with his own beer in hand, he tugs Kit down so she’s sitting on him again.

  She slumps down, dropping her weight unashamedly and he lets out a grunt, but she doesn’t spill a drop of her wine. I’m proud of her.

  “We saw him a few hours ago, he’ll be home in the next couple days,” Bobby continues. His gaze travels between me and back to the TV as his large body twitches with every move the fighters make.

  “Iz will like that,” I comment, mostly just thinking out loud as we all watch a female fighter choke another out on the screen. These fighters are brutal. And Iz and Kit both fight too. I’d be terrified to even try.

  “Iz will love having him home again,” Kit says, absentmindedly running her fingers through her husband’s collar length hair. “She’s tired from hanging out at the hospital all day and travelling back and forth.”

  “I bet she is. It’s hard work having a baby. Even harder to be out of routine.” I know exactly what that’s like.

  I adjust Evie on my lap when she decides she wants to play with Tink’s hair, but she doesn’t want to get off me to do it.

  We stay quiet for a long while, the only sound coming from the TV and Evie’s heavy breathing, and I enjoy the quiet time and the cold beer, and I generally just like being with friends.

  I was new to town last year, doing my best to put a roof over Evie’s head after a year of moving town to town.

  Evie and I never stayed in one place longer than a month until we settled here, and although I ponder it late at night when I can’t sleep, I’m not actually sure why this is the place we finally slowed down, but I’m glad we did.

  Before the day Kit walked into my studio looking for sexy photos for Bobby, I didn’t talk to anyone, about anything, at all, except in a purely professional capacity at work.

  I have a natural talent with a camera and I enjoy spending time in the dark room in my apartment above the studio. That was the extent of my life before Kit Kincaid – Kit Reilly at the time – wandered in as a client.

  Kit herself wasn’t the problem, but when she invited her girlfriends Izzy and Tink along too, suddenly I wasn’t so lonely anymore. Even though I tried to fight them.

  I’ve since found out these girls always get what they want.

  Always.

  Ever since that day, we’ve hung out a lot as a group and the whole family have taken us in and treat Evie like their own. Even the guys. Or perhaps I should say especially the guys. They’re so kind and sweet to her, and she adores them.

  Everyone else continues watching the TV and just chill in their own worlds, but my attention is drawn to Jack as he looks to his phone, then the ceiling as though someone is up there, then he gets up meanders upstairs.

  No one else pays attention, but I watch the silly grin on his face as he slips away.

  I have a feeling Jack might be taking a phone call in his room tonight. Maybe he’s got a girlfriend? I haven’t heard about one, but those grins aren’t just for everyday life.

  I smile into my beer, nostalgic about young love, then I turn back to Evie as she half dozes on my chest and continues fingering Tink’s hair.

  I’m so glad I found these guys.

  Three

  Aiden

  Left Hangin’

  She stood me up.

  I’m standing out front of the restaurant that we decided we’d meet at, because she didn’t give me her address or phone number, because she probably still thinks I’m a psycho weirdo. But I trusted her when she said she’d turn up.

  I looked forward to tonight like a kid would Christmas. I haven’t stopped thinking about her and I smiled like a fucking idiot while combing my hair before coming out.

  I am a fucking idiot.

  I’m still standing outside, an hour and a half past our pre-arranged time, dressed in an ironed shirt like some fuckstick thinking she might just be stuck in traffic and is on her way.

  There’s no traffic in our town. Ever. There’s more traffic in my driveway.

  Fuck!

  I stomp my unhappy ass across the road and swing into the cab of my truck.

  “Fuck.” I slam the heel of my hand on the wheel, hating that I feel so irrationally angry about this.

  I don’t get angry about much. People call me a grump to be smartasses but mostly they describe me as just… there.

  Quiet. Dependable. Neutral.

  The peace keeper.

  My mom thinks butter wouldn’t melt in my mouth. My siblings tease me, trying to get a reaction from the guy who rarely reacts.

  I’m not a grump in my own mind, nor am I quiet or just there. I’m just me.

  But I don’t often get mad about shit. I rarely argue.

  Nine times out of ten, I’m wading in between my idiot brothers, pulling their bitch asses apart because they do react. They’re hot headed and passionate and impulsive.

  Not me.

  I decked a man last year because he was forcing himself up on my sister in law, but I mean, it took that much to get a reaction from me, so just being stood up shouldn’t really piss me off. It’s just a girl. And most girls are the same; bitches with grandeur in their sights.

  My brothers don’t get stood up, because they’re The Kincaids, the fighters. The winners. The famous dudes. I’m just the guy who walks down the tunnel behind them, holding their shoulder and watching their backs.

  And I’m okay with that. I don’t need the fame or the belt or the money. I don’t need the attention or black-tie dinners. I just want to roll. I want to train and be with my family.

  But girls need that shit.

  Fuck that. Fuck them.

  Fuck Sarah, too.

  Bitch.

  I turn the key in the ignition, switching the lights on to illuminate the nighttime streets and I do a U-turn. I want to get the fuck away from that place as soon as I can.

  Bitch just ruined my favorite restaurant. My family and I come here all the time and now the waiters will know I was stood up.

  I listen to angry rap in my car, at least glad that Eminem gets my mood. It’s barely more than a five-minute drive home and I stop at the gates and punch in the security code to get them to swing open.

  I drive down the single brick lane that sits in the middle of our houses; Jim and Iz on the left, a spare, slated for Jack next to that, Kit and Bobby at the top, Jon’s to the right, and mine next to that.

  We moved here only a few weeks ago after the media got wind of where Bobby and Kit live and it was getting too dangerous for her.

  By dangerous, I mean Kit was at risk of doing serious prison time for running them down with her car. She wouldn’t have hesitated if given half the chance.

  I pull into my own driveway then I swing my long legs out and head toward Bobby’s.

  There’re a few extra cars here tonight and I figure everyone’s at his, so I’ll go over and have a beer and try and forget about the beautiful blonde with the intriguing yet painful looking scars. She’s gone. The universe is fucking us over and I’m finally taking the hint.

  I open the front door, letting myself in and I meet Jack as he descends the stairs with a stupid grin on his face.

  “That was quick,” he teases and I fight the urge to hit him. He’s an asshole, thinks he’s witty as fuck, just like the rest of them.

  “Yep.” I stomp past him, not returning his fist bump and I bite back my own grin at his pout. He may look big and badass, but he’s still a kid that wants to be liked.

  I walk through the main foyer of the house, ignoring the living room entry and the sound of giggling girls, and head to the separate kitchen entry instead.

  I need a beer.

  I need to get laid.

  “Why so quick?” Jack follows me and I roll my eyes. Men don’t ask about girlie shit like that, only a teenager would. My brothers would never ask. They kn
ow better.

  “Hey.” Bobby, hearing our voices, wanders into the kitchen and leans against the counter, cocking his right leg over the left, he makes himself comfortable.

  I help myself to a beer from his fridge and pop the cap off, then I throw it, swishing it straight into the trash can in the corner.

  “Hey,” I answer him, impressed with my aim and cocking my own leg and leaning on the counter opposite him.

  I need to decompress. I need to forget about the beautiful blonde. I need to get a life.

  “Why you back so early?”

  I groan, disappointed that Kit turned my big brother into a little bitch who likes to talk about feelings. “Dude.”

  “What?”

  “Nothin’.”

  “So… whatcha doing here?”

  “Got stood up.” My tone clearly tells him I don’t want to talk about it, but I realize now I didn’t really think this through. I should have known everyone would want to be up my ass about this. Shit has changed since all these girls invaded our space. Now they like to matchmake and gossip. It’s annoying as shit.

  And poor Jack never stood a chance, since he grew up with Kit and has been under her parentage for the last few years since their dad died.

  “That sucks.” Bobby tips his beer in acknowledgement and dropping the subject all in one. Good.

  “Biggie!”

  I turn, finding my smile for Evie as she comes running my way and throws herself into my arms.

  I pick her up and bring her so our chests touch, her chubby arms wrap around my neck and my face tucks between hers and her shoulder.

  “I thought you were sick, Smalls?” I ask her curls and she nods, suddenly less exuberant as Jack grumbles about not getting Evie cuddles.

  “I sick today. I okay,” she says, her lips muffled against my neck and I smile. So which is it?”

  “Are you feeling better?”

  “Evie had medicine.”

 

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