Confused, I blinked.
"I need to know that Ty Jacobs, the bully who ruined my childhood and broke my spirit…" Her eyes closed as tears slid down her cheeks, one after the other. "I need to know that you see me now, and not just some fat kid you nearly destroyed."
Each word burned my insides, blackening my heart, and scarring my soul.
"I see you, Wendy.” Her eyes fluttered open. "I always saw you." And I had. I was a little bastard growing up, but I wasn't as cold and heartless as some thought. "I know I can't take any of it back, and I realize you have zero reason to believe me, but I swear on my life that I'm sorry."
"Tell me why then," she demanded, her voice rising with each word. "Tell me why you did it… to me, to them, to all of us!"
I ground my back teeth together as the guilt that bombarded me daily increased tenfold.
"I won't make excuses for the things I did as a kid because there are none," I said, halfway telling the truth.
"There may not be an excuse, but there is a reason, and I want to know… I deserve to know."
The reason was my own torment, but I'd never voice those words aloud. My past was ugly, and the scars that had been inflicted on me ran deep. I'd worked my ass off to become a better man over the past few years, but darkness still lived inside me.
And my darkness, my demons, my monsters were my burdens to bear.
Not hers or anyone else's.
I shrugged, trying my best to appear nonchalant. "I was just a dickhead kid with a chip on my shoulder. That's all."
"You're such a liar," she said, wiping away the tears that cascaded down her cheeks. "But you're right about one thing." The anger in her voice faded. "You can't take any of it back."
Her words gut-punched me.
"I'm so fucking sorry," I repeated, not knowing what else to say. "For everything."
She nodded, her face softening. "For some inexplicable reason, I halfway believe you.”
“Swear to God, Wendy—”
“One day I'll find it in me to forgive you,” she said, interrupting me. “But that day is not today."
I couldn't ask for more than that.
She hiccupped and swung her gaze to my truck. One corner of her mouth tipped up in a smile. "I would say I'm sorry about your truck but…"
"…You're not," I finished for her.
"I'm really not." She scrunched up her nose. "Not sorry for kneeing you in the balls either."
"No need to be." I cringed, the throbbing ache in my lower half still going strong. "I figure I had it coming."
"Well"—she smirked—“at least you know that much."
Her eyes flitted to my dropped takeout bag, and a troublemaking grin spread across her face. Without saying a word, she picked it up and peeked inside, inspecting the contents. "You bought me supper," she said, snapping her head up. "How sweet of you."
Satisfied with herself, she turned and strutted her narrow behind to an SUV parked a row over from my truck.
So much for Wide-Load Wendy…
After opening her door and placing my food on the seat inside, she turned to face me, the same devious smile still locked in place. "By the way, I heard a rumor today. One I think you might be interested in hearing if what the townsfolk say is true."
If I hadn't been fighting to keep upright, I would've rolled my eyes. Living in a small town, rumors weren't anything new. I never paid them much attention though, and I wasn't sure why she would think I'd care what the current gossip was.
"Don't really partake in the Toluca gossip mill." I shrugged. "Not my thing."
Her brows rose. "Not even if the rumors involve Heidi Johnson?"
One name.
That was all it took for her to capture my full attention.
Fighting to keep my voice steady, I asked, "What about Heidi?"
Wendy smirked. "I thought that would get your attention."
"Wendy—"
"You know Weston Winslow?"
Clenching my jaw tight, I nodded. I knew Weston all right. The prick had once been an EMT at Station 24, the same firehouse where I was assigned, before transferring to Station 41 in Kissler, the next county over.
I couldn't stand the cocky bastard.
More than once he and I had come to blows.
Just hearing his name mentioned so close to Heidi's caused my anger to roar back to life.
"Well”—her smirk grew—“supposedly, he's developed a crush on Heidi. Wants her bad according to a few of the waitresses down at Ruby's Diner."
I stopped breathing.
"Not sure what that means for you. Everyone who has spent more than five minutes with Weston knows that once he sets his sights on something, he doesn't stop until—"
"Oh, fuck that," I barked, cutting her off.
Pulling my keys free of my pocket, I unlocked the door and yanked it open, blocking out the world around me, Wendy's high-pitched laughter included.
Then, I jumped inside.
Grabbing my phone from the passenger seat where I'd left it, I tapped the screen, dialing one of the few numbers I had memorized.
My mind was numb as I waited for the person on the other end to pick up. A deep voice answered seconds later. "This is Morgan."
"Is Heidi at the shelter?" I blurted out, feeling my blood pressure skyrocket.
"Yeah," Evan Morgan, head of security at the Toluca Battered Women's Shelter, the place where my Angel worked, replied. "Been here since seven this morning."
"What time does she get off?"
"Eleven. Shelby and Clara both called in sick after catching that stomach virus Maddie had last week. Heidi volunteered to stay late so my wife wouldn't have to fly solo downstairs." The silence between us was thick. "You heard about Weston, didn't you?"
I gripped the steering wheel, squeezing the soft leather until it squeaked beneath my unrelenting grip.
My throat constricted, making it impossible to speak.
"Ty, man… I don't know why you and Heidi aren't together yet, and it's really none of my business, but if you want her, you better work fast, because according to my wife, Weston has been asking about Heidi all over town. A couple of people, Hope included, dropped your name and told him she was off-limits, but he doesn't give a shit."
"Has he come by the shelter yet?"
"Nah. If he did, one of the ladies would've run him off before he got within ten feet of Heidi. You know how protective of her they are. Maddie, especially."
I fought to regain control of the irrational feelings strumming through me. "When she gets off tonight, I'll be there." I started my truck's engine. "Waiting."
Evan was silent.
Then, "You do that."
I ended the call.
Shifting the truck into drive, I released the brake and stomped on the gas. With my heart pounding, I sped out of the parking lot, leaving Wendy behind, turned right onto Main Street, and headed toward my apartment without stopping for more food.
"Weston fucking Winslow," I hissed, slamming a fisted hand against the dash. "That son of a bitch will be lucky if I don't kill him."
My words were harsh yet truthful.
I didn't give a shit what I had to do, if Weston thought he would swoop in and steal the woman I'd been waiting to claim since the moment I first laid eyes on her, he was in for one hell of a surprise.
Heidi and I may not have been in a relationship yet, but she was mine.
And that was the damn truth.
Two
Ty
I may never father a kid now...
The thought repeated on a loop in my head as I stood in my kitchen, holding a bag of frozen peas against the front of my pants.
Wendy may have been a foot shorter and a hundred pounds lighter than me, but the blow she'd delivered to my nuts was one I'd feel for weeks to come.
If not months.
Hell, maybe even years.
Well-deserved or not, it was agonizing.
"Yo!" Chase’s voice echoed through the apartmen
t, followed by the sound of him slamming his bedroom door shut. "Where you at?"
"In the kitchen, shithead,” I answered, grimacing.
His sneakers squeaked against the vinyl floor as he stormed into the room and came to an abrupt halt, his eyes landing on me. I could only imagine the shit that would spew from his mouth when he noticed the peas pressed against my junk.
"What the hell happened to you?"
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
He crossed his arms over his chest and quirked a brow. "Try me."
I moved across the room slowly and pulled a small dinette chair from the table. Plopping down on it, I leaned back, letting my eyes slide closed. "You know who Wendy Rowan is?"
"No," he answered, sitting down. "Who is she? Some chick you pumped and dumped?" My eyes popped open. "Let me guess, she got pissed because you didn't return her calls, so she junk-punched you.”
He was kidding, I knew that, but his words still pissed me off. "You know better," I barked, my right eye twitching. "I haven't so much as looked at another woman like that—"
"Since you met Heidi," he interrupted, finishing my sentence. "Yeah, I know. I'm just jerking you around."
My eye twitched faster, but I said nothing.
"So, who's Wendy? And why'd she bust your balls?" He chuckled as his eyes dropped to the peas. "Quite literally, I'm guessing."
I cracked my neck, easing the tension gripping me. "She was one of my wrongs."
My little brother sucked in a breath, knowing full well what that meant. "Shit," he mumbled. "What happened?"
"She confronted me outside of Chen's Garden." I shook my head, feeling sick over the tears I'd witnessed running down her face. "Keyed the hell out of my truck too."
I thought he would laugh at that, but he didn't. "You apologize to her?"
I nodded. "Yeah."
He dropped his gaze to the scarred tabletop. Darkness clouded his features, making my gut twist. "Did you tell her why you did it?"
My reply came without hesitation. "No."
His eyes found mine. "Why?"
"My past is nobody's business." I tossed the bag onto the table and stood. "The poison that lives in my head? It's my cross to bear, not anyone else's."
He opened his mouth, most likely to argue, but I shut him down before he uttered a word. "Don't start," I said, my voice harsher than I intended. "Just let it go."
Fists clenched, he stood up from the table, his anger on full display. Like me, Chase had one helluva temper. "Fuck that! It shouldn't be yours alone to bear,” he said. “I grew up in that house too. That piece of shit is my—"
On cue, my phone rang, cutting him off mid-sentence. I pulled it out of my pocket and answered without reading the number that flashed across the screen.
It was a mistake.
"Hello?" I said, pinching the bridge of my nose between two fingers.
"I want to talk to my son," a deep voice slurred. "Put him on the phone. Now."
Speak of the fucking devil, I thought.
Every muscle in my body tensed.
Moving past Chase, I walked out of the room, putting as much space as possible between us.
He didn't need to hear the conversation that was about to take place. The kid already had enough problems to deal with. He didn't need more shit piled on top of it.
Glancing over my shoulder to make sure he'd stayed in the kitchen, I walked out on the small balcony attached to my living room, closing the sliding glass door behind me.
I leaned back against the banister, more than ready to tell the bastard on the other end where he could shove his demands.
"Don't you ever call my phone again."
Silence.
Then, "Put Chase on the phone," he demanded once more. "Else I'm coming over there."
I could almost smell his liquor-laden breath.
Twisted memories, each more painful than the last, threatened to break free from the dark corner I had them locked in.
I pushed every one of them back.
"You come over here, and you'll be leaving in a body bag."
Glasses clinked in the background. "Put my son," he snarled, "on the phone."
"You don't have a son."
I meant what I said.
Whether or not they shared DNA, the sperm donor who'd helped create my little brother wasn't his father.
I was.
I may have only been ten when Chase was born, but I’d raised him.
Growing up, it was me who fed him, bathed him, and dropped him off at the sitter's every morning before picking him up each afternoon. It was also me who played with him, washed his clothes, and rocked him to sleep each night.
Unlike the parents we were genetically bound to, I'd taken care of Chase from the beginning, protecting him from all the bad shit that could harm him, while giving him something I'd never, not once, been given a day in my life.
And that something was unconditional love.
I'd done a lot wrong in my life, that was a fact, but the two things I'd done right were loving and protecting my brother endlessly. The moment he was placed in my arms for the first time, he became my reason for living.
"I'm hanging the fuck up now, and if you know what's good for you, you'll lose my number."
Chase moved into the living room and walked my way. Stopping on the other side of the door, he pressed his forehead to the glass, a knowing look on his face.
The twisted psycho chuckled. "You can only keep him from me so long, Ty. Before long I'll quit asking and do what I need to in order to tuck my boy back under my wing." Malicious intent dripped from each word. "Cause no matter what you say, I'm his daddy. Not you."
The only place Chase was going was back to college. A star quarterback, he attended Charleston Southern on a full-ride athletic scholarship.
In August, he'd be starting his third and last year, and come January, he planned to declare his intent to enter the NFL draft, forgoing his senior year.
Over my dead body would he be going back to the hell-hole I pulled us out of all those years ago.
Not to mention, my little brother wasn't underage anymore.
Despite the threats the piece of shit on the phone spouted off whenever it suited him, he no longer had any power, which put a major kink in his plans to leech off the payday headed Chase’s way once he was drafted.
Tap, tap, tap.
Chase's knuckles meeting the glass caught my attention. "It's him isn't it?" he asked through the door, his eyes narrowed. "What does that asshole—"
Turning, I gave him my back.
With one hand on the banister, I leaned forward and stared at the parking lot below. "Let me make something crystal clear to you, Dad," I hissed, my venom-laced tone ominous. "If you come anywhere near Chase or try to contact him in anyway, I'll put you in the ground without thinking twice. You understand me?"
"Listen to me, you son of a bitch. That little bastard owes me, and I fully intend to—"
I ended the call.
Shoving my phone in my pocket, I moved back into my apartment.
"It was our old man wasn't it?" Chase's cheeks were tinged red with anger.
Even as our eyes met, I said nothing.
"That means yes," he said, reading my expression. "What did he want this time?"
"Don't worry about it," I snapped, hoping he'd drop it.
I should've known better.
"Ty—"
"Goddammit, Chase, I said not to worry about it."
He followed behind me as I headed toward my room, his steps matching my own. "Don't give me that bullshit, big brother. The only reason he ever calls you is because of me. Now tell me what he wanted. Else I'll have to beat it out of you."
I stopped and glared at him over my shoulder, narrowing my eyes. "You can try."
He exhaled, his nostrils flaring. "How long?" he asked, his eyes hardening before mine. "How long are you going to protect me from him?"
The vortex of emotions swirling inside
me rose into my throat and hard as I tried, I couldn't tamp them down. Before I could stop myself, I whirled on him and exploded. "Until my dying breath if that's what it takes!"
"I'm not a kid anymore!" he hollered back. "You don't need to keep taking him on just to protect me! For fuck's sake, let me fight my own battles!"
No way in hell.
"You may not be a kid anymore, but you'll always be my baby brother!"
His eyes narrowed. "What's your point?"
"My point is that I'll lay my life down before I let our father anywhere near you again! I don't care how small the chance is, and I don’t care that its money he’s after now, I won't risk him hurting you! Not after…" Sliding my hands into my hair, I grasped my short blond locks and tugged. Hard. "Not after what he did to me!"
I turned and stormed into my room, slamming the door shut behind me. I half expected him to follow. Thank Christ he didn't because my balls still ached, and my head felt like it was splitting in half. I didn't have it in me to have the same argument I've had a thousand times with him.
Not to mention, I was starving.
Fucking Wendy…
"To hell with this," I mumbled, spinning back around. "I've gotta eat."
I jerked open my door a second later only to come face to face with Chase. "What the hell are you doing?"
Fisted hand raised, he blinked. "I was about to knock and ask you where the food was.” He dropped his arm and looked down at my hands, his eyes searching for something. "You call Heidi?"
"No. Why?"
The twerp dared to roll his eyes. "You should. She makes you less bitchy."
Ignoring his comment, I nodded toward the phone clutched in his fingers. "Call and order a pizza or something. I don't care. Just have it delivered."
Confusion swept across his features. "What happened to the takeout you left to pick up?"
A humorless chuckle spilled from my lips. "Wendy stole it."
"You're shitting me."
"I'm not. She created abstract art out of the paint job on my truck, kicked me in the nuts, and then stole our food. If you want Chen's, you'll have to go pick it up, because I'm sure as hell not showing my face around there again."
Chuckling, he pulled out his phone and started texting someone.
I lifted my chin. "Who are you messaging?"
Every Wrong You Right: A Redeeming Love Novel (Book 6) Page 2
