Boyfrenemy

by Sosie Frost

  Another splash. Mellie practically dissolved into giggles. A giggle would have been easier to clean. Getting the paint off her body was a goddamned Herculean task.

  Tabby shouted from the living room. Soon, the bathroom door burst open and she toddled inside, muttering a furious story of babble and gibberish under her breath. Cassie followed.

  And reluctantly spoke to me.

  “Tabby wanted to see what the commotion was.”

  “Bath!” Tabby pointed excitedly at the tub. “Bath!”

  Sure. Two and a half weeks ago, the kids were allergic to water. I bargained with a one-year-old, selling my soul to get her butt to stay put in the tub with a bribe of chocolate. My range of talents now included hunting, tracking, carpentry, and protecting a candy bar from some shampoo.

  “You’ll get a bath later.” I poked her chubby belly. “Right now, your sister looks like a Picasso.”

  “Pikachu?” Mellie gasped.

  “Sure.” I dunked another ladle of water over her. “Give me an arm, Mellie. I gotta scrub you down.”

  Mellie scrunched up her nose. “I like it.”

  So did I, until I realized no one else in the library thought the paint tattoos were as adorable as me.

  “Well, we gotta get you clean.”

  “Why?”

  I glanced at Cassie. She was no help. Then again, I’d blindsided her with the court date. At least she wouldn’t get angry around the kids. Hopefully Mellie would have a nightmare tonight and sleep in our bed. Cassi wouldn’t suffocate me with a pillow in sight of the kids.

  “Tomorrow…” I swallowed. The words were harder to spit out than I thought. “You get to see Mommy.”

  Mellie leapt to her feet. Half of the water surged out of the tub and onto me and the clean towels I’d set out for her. She made a break for it, but the excited dance slowed her down. I plunked her into the tub while she squealed.

  “Mommy!” She celebrated by kicking her feet and knocking every shampoo and soap into the bath with her. Everything, including me and the towels and the water and the soaps, tinted a strange shade of blue. “I miss Mommy!”

  Tabby pounced in the puddles, unsure of the cause for such excitement but pleased by the mess at her feet. She stomped twice before slipping. Cassie caught her as she fell, but Tabby wiggled enough so she could sit in the dampness and slap it with her hands.

  “Okay, so we gotta scrub you down and get you clean,” I said. “Sound good?”

  “Yep!”

  A half-hour and two drained and re-filled tubs later, the kid was still shaded like monopoly money, but she seemed essentially cleaned. Good enough for court.

  She buzzed around the cabin with a doll, letting Tabby toddle behind, and we set to making dinner.

  Silently.

  Cassi hadn’t spoken. Hadn’t really looked at me.

  I knew it was coming. I braced myself for it.

  What was I supposed to say?

  She tossed some chicken in the oven, but she lowered the knife to the cutting board halfway through the broccoli. That was fine. Mellie had an aversion to green. After today, I shared it.

  “When were you going to tell me?” Cassi stared at the counter. “Was I just going to wake up one day and assume the toddlers had moved out?”

  “Would it have worked?”

  “Don’t you dare joke about this.”

  Fair enough. “What do you want me to say?”

  “How about…the kids’ court case is on Thursday, and we should get ready for it?”

  “Topic never came up.”

  A lame excuse. Cassi knew it. She thumped her hand on the counter and gave her fingernails a rat-a-tat-tat against the wooden cutting board. Probably would have been smart to move the chef’s knife away from her.

  “You lied to me,” she said.

  “You didn’t ask.”

  “Don’t play that game, Rem,” Cassi said. “You didn’t tell me—deliberately. Why?”

  Because since the minute my life got babyjacked, I’d been wondering when I’d be on my own again.

  Counting days. Estimating the time.

  Letting the little ankle-biters get under my skin and into my heart.

  “I never thought Emma would recover.” The truth hurt. “Now she has, and she has a right to take them home. I didn’t want you to worry about the custody issue.”

  “You should have told me.”

  “Probably.”

  Her voice hardened. “No. You should have told me.”

  “Yeah.”

  Cassi exhaled. “Think she’s ready to take them back?”

  I had no idea. It had taken me a hell of a lot longer to kick my additions—and I had to run a lot farther away to avoid the temptations. But Emma did her rehab. She passed the blood and piss tests. She was sober when I’d talked to her. What else was there to discuss?

  “That’s not my decision,” I said.

  “But you know your sister.”

  “I’m not a judge.”

  “Rem.”

  The cabin suddenly felt far too small for a conversation this huge. “It’s not up to me. I’m not CPS. Christ, I’m not their father.”

  “Do you want to be?”

  I snorted, hand running through my hair, trying to find the closest exit, closest highway, closest anywhere that wasn’t my not-so-isolated mountain. “Just stop, Cas. I’m not going there.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it’s a stupid fucking question.”

  She straightened, her lips puffing into a kissable pout. “Excuse me?”

  “You really think those kids are any better here with me than they are with their mother?”

  She didn’t blink. “Yes. I do.”

  Christ, she was naïve. How hadn’t I seen it before? “Cas, you’re smarter than that.”

  “So now I’m stupid too?”

  “I’m not a good guardian to these girls, and you know it.”

  “Why not?”

  “Do you need a reason besides the gallon of paint that’ll be clogging my septic system? Don’t be polite. Don’t play pretend. Don’t bullshit me. I’m a terrible uncle, a shit parent, and everyone in this town is right about me.”

  “I can’t believe you’re letting them get into your head.”

  “Jesus. Look at the kids. Listen to the kids. They’re swearing. They’re getting in trouble. Mellie wants to emulate me. What sort of three-year-old wants tattoos?”

  “She doesn’t want tattoos,” Cassi said. “She wants to be like you.”

  “And that’s the problem. I am the worst example for these kids. Always have been, always will be.”

  “You said you’ve changed.”

  “Do you think that’ll matter when they’re old enough to know the kind of man their uncle is? When they hear the stories? Realize he’s got the same problems, the same tendencies as their mother? When they realize it’s because of me that their name is continuously dragged through the mud?”

  “You’re their family.” Cassi tried to take my hand. I didn’t let her close. “You can’t change family, believe me. But there is nothing stronger in this world. Even when they punch holes through the walls with each other’s heads. Even when there’s no room in the house to take care of a family member who’s been seriously wounded. Families make it work.”

  Yeah. Some of them.

  Families like the Paynes, which, until five years ago, had been a model family. They’d loved each other. They’d cared for each other. And they’d taken in kids like me to share that wealth of warmth and comfort and support. Nothing was more important than protecting that goodness.

  And that’s why I didn’t belong anywhere near it.

  I didn’t recognize the catch in my voice. “They deserve a better family than me.”

  “Why?” Her question turned plea. “Rem, why are you treating yourself like this? Don’t let what my brothers or the Sherriff say change how you feel about those girls. You aren’t a terrible person. Five years ago,
you were wild, a bad boy with a bad reputation who liked trouble. Now?” She moved before me, her hands on my chest. “Now you’re a good man who is hurting. You don’t want the girls to go.”

  “Cassi, for Christ’s sake, I can’t even take care of them by myself. I need you here to help.”

  “There’s nothing wrong in asking for help…” Her words softened. “Just like there’s nothing wrong in loving them.”

  “And that’s why I want what’s best for them. Emma’s recovered. She wants her family, a family I don’t want to ruin…and don’t look at me all doe-eyed. You know who I am—who I really am.”

  Cassi whipped from zero-to-pissed-off in the time it took to pull her hair into a ponytail.

  Dinner was forgotten. The fight had only just begun.

  “Yeah, I know you,” she said. “You’re the one who broke my heart five years ago because you were too scared to take responsibility for your life and your decisions.”

  “No. I left because I was afraid I’d ruin you, your life, and your family if I stayed. I would have destroyed your future…same as I’ll destroy Mellie and Tabby’s.”

  Cassi huffed. “So that’s it then. You aren’t even going to try?”

  “They’re not my kids.”

  “They’re still your family. And if you have any doubt in your mind that Emma—”

  “There’s none. Emma is fine. Better than fine. I talked to her. I talked to her sponsor. She’s clean. She’s sober. She’s got her life back on track.”

  “So then what?”

  What else was there? “What do you mean?”

  “When they go home?” Cassi narrowed her eyes. “What will you do?”

  “What should I do?” I extended my arms. “I gave them food and a roof over their head.”

  “You gave them more than that.”

  “Yeah, a new colorful vocabulary and potential lead poisoning from that paint.”

  Cassi raged but her voice stayed even, trying not to alarm the kids. I didn’t have the same tact.

  “You know you did more for those little girls than that. Will you visit them?”

  What the hell did it matter? The less they saw of me, the better they’d be. “I’ll send gifts. See them at the holidays. Doesn’t matter.”

  “I can’t believe you.” She nearly laughed. “You don’t even want to be a part of their life?”

  I never said that.

  But I knew it was the right thing to do.

  “You’re running again, aren’t you?” Cassi stared at me, her voice weakening. “You’re not even going to try. I thought you were better than that.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Why?”

  She wanted the truth?

  Fine.

  She’d pulled it from me, tortured me with my own guilt. If she wanted to know why I was such a fucking bastard, then I’d tell her.

  We’d see if she still felt the same way after.

  “I’m the one who got Emma hooked on the junk.”

  Cassi’s breath escaped in a slight oh.

  She quieted, staring at me with that look of utter mortification I knew I’d have to face sometime.

  Why bother sugarcoating it?

  Why bother hiding it?

  It wasn’t the worst thing I’d done, and it wasn’t the worst secret I’d kept. But it revealed too much to the woman who’d so foolishly trusted me.

  “It was my needle,” I said. “I came home four years ago for your mother’s funeral. I hid in the back. I didn’t talk to anyone. Didn’t try to find you or your brothers. But I had to pay my respects to the woman who was like a second mother to me. And the only way I could face this town or your family or that woman who didn’t deserve to be in that casket was if I broke my own damn sobriety. So I did. And Emma…”

  I’d been too stoned to even realize what had happened.

  “I didn’t know Emma would take it,” I said. “And I didn’t know she was pregnant.”

  “Rem…”

  “She found my stash at her house while I crashed on her couch. And she got pissed. Raged at me. She took it away. I thought she was trying to get me clean, but I was pissed. I hated what I’d become. How weak I was. I knew better than to go near an Oxy addict with that shit, but…”

  Cassi sunk against the counter, her words a whisper. “Rem, it’s not your fault.”

  “Of course it is.” I glanced to the kids. “That’s why I had to take the girls. It was my fault their mother got as bad as she did. I had to do something to make up for the past.”

  “Then stay with them. Be a part of their lives. Just love them, Rem. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  But nothing I ever did would be right for those kids.

  I knew it. The Paynes knew it. The town knew it.

  Cassi was the only one who couldn’t see it.

  So I knew what had to be done. To protect them. To protect her.

  Cassi deserved the truth. All of it. Why I ran. What I’d done. Who I’d protected.

  Even if it hurt everyone and destroyed everything.

  A lie spared her pain.

  The truth would be unforgivable.

  And both would forever deny me the woman I loved.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Cassi

  Without the kids, the cabin was silent.

  No TV. No laughter. No annoyingly shrill iPad game that tweeted birds and flashed lights and prompted a toddler to bang you over the head with the device when the batteries died.

  Worst of all?

  It was quiet. It was peaceful.

  It was lonely.

  So incredibly lonely.

  Made worse by Rem as he’d completely isolated himself from the pain after a quick hug and kiss outside the courthouse.

  He’d bagged the girls things in the middle of the night, packed Em’s car while we talked on the steps, and declined the chance to go to her house for a celebratory pizza lunch.

  As if he couldn’t stand to look at the kids. Or his sister.

  Or me.

  For two days, he’d hidden away in the workshop, obsessing over a project no one had ordered and he hadn’t let me see.

  He was pulling away.

  It wasn’t even subtle.

  Something had flicked in his head. That trigger to run when it got tough, to hide when his feelings were exposed, and to avoid any opportunity to forgive himself and his past.

  Whatever that past was.

  Whatever other secrets he’d refused to tell me.

  Trust was hard to give when I’d already been burned by this man. But if he didn’t trust himself, if he thought so little of his character and soul, then how was I to help him?

  Or to protect myself?

  I knew better than to let Remington Marshall back into my heart.

  Problem was…he’d always been there.

  Night had fallen before Rem came back to the house to eat. He rummaged in the fridge, emerged with a juice box, and stared at the little cartoon critter on the carton. Mellie had refused to touch the reduced sugar apple juice until Rem doodled funny faces on the cartoon apples. He stared at a buck-toothed smiley, gripped it tight…

  Then silently threw it in the garbage.

  “Haven’t seen you all day.” I lowered my phone and tried to meet his gaze. Didn’t work. “Marius is doing well. The doctors say it’ll be a couple weeks, but they’re already thinking about the prosthetic.”

  “Good.”

  He gave me nothing else.

  “They have a family house near Walter Reed—for long-term recovery patients. Might be something we could do until he’s ready to come home.”

  “You gonna go?”

  I hadn’t decided yet. “That depends.”

  “On what?”

  “On you.”

  Rem opened a beer but didn’t drink. He leaned against the sink, staring out the window into the night. “Got a call from a buddy at the logging site.”

  “In Canada?”

  “Yeah
.”

  My stomach dropped. “What’d he say?”

  “Job’s there if I want it.”

  “All the way across the continent?”

  “Yeah.”

  Everything soured. Rem said nothing else. Without the Disney movies or baby cooing or constant toddler jabber, nothing silenced my anger.

  I ground my teeth. “Think that will be far enough?”

  He glanced at me. “From what?”

  “From whatever it is that’s terrifying you.”

  “I’m not afraid of anything.”

  “Sure, you are.” I gave up, pushing away from the counter. “You’re afraid of doing what’s right.”

  He caught me before I left the room, but I batted his hand away. Rem stared, his chestnut eyes dark and flat, as if he hadn’t slept at all. Maybe he hadn’t. Certainly hadn’t touched me. Or kissed me. Or Held me. Not for two nights.

  “I know you’re hurting.” My honesty stung. “I’m hurting too. Let me help you.”

  “I don’t need help.”

  It would have been funny if it wasn’t so damned tragic. “I think you said that five years ago too.”

  “Let it go, Cas. What’s done is done.”

  “That’s not true. If it were done, then all these feelings and questions would be resolved. But they’re not.”

  It was his turn to walk away. I didn’t let him out the door.

  “What the hell happened to you, Rem? What changed to make you this way?”

  If he took offense, he didn’t show it. “This is who I am. Who I’ve always been.”

  “You’re lying to me. You’ve been lying to me. Everything you’ve ever done is a lie.”

  He didn’t deny it. “I’ve never wanted to hurt you, Cassi. Did all I could to prevent it.”

  “Hiding things is hurting me. Not trusting me is hurting me. You didn’t tell me about Em’s problem. You didn’t tell me about the court date.” And he still didn’t react. “It’s like you’re so damn terrified to get close to me.”

  Rem looked away. “You know how I feel about you.”

  “And it never mattered. You were always going to run. The first chance you got, you were going to bolt out that door and out of my life. As soon as you got rid of the girls, you’d planned to leave.”

  Silence. The accusation hung heavy in the air.

  And he didn’t deny it.