by Jordan Marie
I leave him in a cloud of dust behind my old Jeep and ZZ Top singing about the tube snake boogie. I also do it with more than a little sadness.
But I ignore that.
24
Titan
Son of a bitch.
I should be used to waking up alone after sex with Faith. I don’t know why I thought it would be any different, but for some stupid-ass reason I thought it would be. The room is completely empty, though; Faith’s clothes are gone. I grab my slacks, pulling them on but not bothering to button them. They lie low on my hips, but mostly they hide my cock, which is all that’s important. When I open the motel’s door it doesn’t surprise me that Faith’s Jeep is gone.
I step back and slam the door so hard the walls of the room shake. I feel like ripping the door off the damn hinges, but I don’t.
What is it with this girl and running away from me?
I move back into the room, preparing myself to chase after her yet again. This time I won’t take any bullshit excuses. This time she’ll sign the annulment papers and once that’s done I won’t have to see her again. Which is fine, more than fine. Sex last night was good, and yeah, maybe it was the best I’ve ever had. Still, there’s not a woman alive worth this bullshit and I have plans—dreams to start making a reality.
I jump in the shower and ignore the memories of Faith in the shower with me. They immediately spring to mind, but eventually they will fade. I forcefully push them away and shower the smell of the blond demon off of my body.
I thought the two of us turned a corner last night. I don’t know what corner it was, but I know I’m pissed that she’s run away yet again. Who the fuck does that kind of shit? Hell, as mad as I am right now—and that’s fuming—I can still hear her sweetly whispered words.
I missed you.
I turn the water off, ignoring the fine tremor that runs through my hand.
God, I’ve missed you, Titan.
With every word I remember, every breathy sound of her voice—I get more pissed.
I stomp out into the other room, drying off, and thinking of all the ways I’ll punish Faith when I catch up to her. If some of those ways include bending her over the bed and slapping her ass, while slamming balls deep inside of her—well, I ignore those too.
I have my clothes back on and that’s when I see them. On the table by the window. I walk slowly, suddenly not in a hurry to see them but knowing I have to. The annulment papers have Faith’s signature in big cursive letters and a heart dotting the letter “I”. For some reason that makes me smile, when it’s the last thing I feel like doing. Beside it I see she’s scribbled a note on the back of the envelope I’ve been keeping the papers in.
I grab it and it’s fucking twisted, but I grab it like a man finding water when he’s dying for thirst. I don’t know how I got so twisted up over a woman so quickly—but damn it… I am.
Big Daddy,
I’ve been a bitch with a capital B, and that’s not been fair to you. It’s not your fault that I’m a moron and feel like that by the time I’m twenty-six I should be more put together than a wedding that didn’t even last twenty-four hours. I don’t know why signing these make me feel like a bigger failure at this thing called life, but hey that’s not exactly your problem. You have plans and they might be fucked up plans, but still that’s more than I have, so I decided to cut you some slack. Happy annulment, hubby. May you get back to enjoying single life soon. Please don’t worry about me being pregnant. I’ve already had my visit from Aunt Flo since Vegas and honestly, I’m on birth control.
I’m going to be hanging out at my Aunt Ida Sue’s for a bit. If you could send the final annulment papers there, I’d appreciate it.
Stay cool, Titan.
Your annoying soon to be ex-wife.
Faith
* * *
I read the note and frown. I turn it over and Ida Sue’s address is scribbled on it. Faith’s saying goodbye. She’s saying goodbye and giving me what I need to move on. I should be happy.
I wish I knew why I’m not…
25
Faith
“Well, if it ain’t mopey drawers,” Ida Sue complains, taking the rocking chair beside me. I could pretend she’s not talking to me, but there’s no point. I look over at my aunt, taking her in. She has soft brown hair that falls around her head in a long bob cut. It used to be shorter, but over the past year she’s let it grow out. She’s got sparkling green eyes and despite her age she could pass for forty—which she is not. God, I hope I inherited my father’s genes and age that well.
“Well, if it ain’t Sponge Bob Smart Ass Pants,” I grumble, turning my gaze out to the yard. I don’t want to see Ida Sue’s you-know-better face. I’d rather stare as Hamburger chases his tail. I’ve never seen a cow chase its tail before and it’s kind of interesting—especially when the damn thing gets dizzy.
“That don’t make a lick of sense. Then again, most of the crap you’ve been doing doesn’t.”
I close my eyes. Aunt Ida Sue is starting to sound like my sister Hope and I really can’t handle that.
“Can we not start the day off with another lecture?” I ask her, knowing it will definitely end up in another lecture.
“Maybe we could if you’d quit using the brains from your mother’s side of the family to work with.”
“My mother didn’t have any brains,” I mutter.
“My point exactly. There’s Lucas blood in there somewhere. You best start using it before you ruin your life.”
“You’re sounding just like my sister. So I got drunk and married a stranger in Vegas. I signed the annulment papers. I’m no longer Titan Marsh’s wife. Mistake fixed and erased from the history books. No life-ruining shit can spread further,” I tell her, my eyes closed as the wave of pain hits. It doesn’t make sense, but I liked being married to Titan.
I’ve been at Aunt Ida Sue’s for a month and a half now, and each day not seeing Titan has been painful. There was a part of me that thought he would follow me here. Chase me down and tear up the annulment papers and tell me he wanted to try staying married. It was crazy, but the thought—the hope—was there and it hurt when he didn’t show. Then two weeks ago, I got the papers in the mail. An announcement that I had been “annulled.” The papers didn’t come from Titan; they came from a law firm in California instead. When I told Hope, her whispered “Thank God” was like a punch to the gut. I haven’t talked to her since. I was about to tell her how much I really liked Titan and how I thought we could have been good together. Her snide remark stopped me from sharing my views. Her comment of: “You really have screwed up in the past, Faith. Your ex was proof of that, but getting married to Titan? God, Faith, that tops them all.” pretty much ended all conversations. I did remind her at least I didn’t lie to my husband and convince him we were married when we weren’t—right before I hung up and proceeded ignoring her attempts to call back.
I’m so sick of being viewed as Faith the Screw-up by my sisters. Neither one of them have great track records, but they conveniently forget that. Hope is all happy and she and Aden are so in love they stink of it now, but it wasn’t exactly a great start between the two of them and I’m kind of tired of Hope being a bitch about it all.
“Are you hearing me, Faith Lucas?”
I let out a deep, frustrated breath. I didn’t hear her, mostly because I was blocking her out and being depressed. Which is apparently something my aunt doesn’t like. I really need to find a place of my own. When Ida Sue offered me Petal’s old room for free it seemed like the perfect answer.
Boy, was I wrong.
“Don’t you breathe like that to me, young lady. You might not be from my loins, but you’re my blood.”
“Ida Sue—”
“And I reckon being from my blood means I can slap the stupid right out of you since my brother can’t. That means I’ll be slapping you for a damn long time, because your brand of stupid seems to taking over. So you might want to prepare.”
“I told you the problem is all fixed now,” I all but growl.
“Bull hockey. Is that fine piece of Godiva chocolate sitting here beside my Faith, making me—her—smile?”
“What?” I ask, confused. “Of course not.”
“Then it most certainly is not fixed.”
“But… He’s getting married. He had plans. He was just drunk when we got married, Ida Sue,” I tell her, whispering the words and ignoring the pain they cause.
“Big deal. Hell, Hope’s man didn’t know who he was when she grabbed him. That didn’t stop her. Men are like making meatloaf, Faith.”
“Making meatloaf?” I question—almost afraid to ask. With my aunt you never know what she will say next.
“Exactly that. They have all the ingredients buried in there. But it’s not finished. You got to use your hands to squish them up and make them look like you want and add the little small things that give them flavor,” she says and I blink. What she says actually makes sense. Not that any of it matters, because it’s all finished now. So I just don’t say anything. “Of course you have to make sure that when you’re finished with them they’re not the kind of man that actually lets their meat loaf. That’s unacceptable. There’s too many vitamins and herbs that can fix a limp dick these days. Why, when it comes to Jansen, I—”
“Annnnnd we’re done. The day I hear about Jansen and his meatloaf is the day I need to be put away in a padded cell.”
“I do like meatloaf,” he says, coming around the corner of the house. “Is that what’s for supper tonight, lovey?” he asks Ida Sue. He walks over to her rocking chair and leans down to give her a soft kiss.
“God I hope not,” Ida Sue grins. “But I am hoping for some meat on that old kitchen table.”
“Oh Lord, just shoot me now and put me out of my misery,” I whine, scared they’re going to start talking about sex—which they usually do.
“Quit being so over dramatic, Faith. What you need to be doing is going upstairs, packing your bag and loading your ass up and going to California to tell that fine-ass man to not give up on you.”
“It’s too late.”
“It ain’t over until another woman is sleeping in your man’s bed and has him all twisted up in her. Which means you got time, so you need to get hopping. I need that cinnamon swirl back in my life.”
“Say what?”
“In your life. I meant your life.”
“Cinnamon swirl?”
“Fine, sprinkles of pretty deep brown that spice up your life. Tell me that’s not Titan to a ‘T’.”
“Ida Sue, I love you, but it’s just too late. And besides, Titan didn’t want to stay married to me. If he did—he would have.”
“Then make him want to,” she says like that’s so simple.
“How would I do that?”
“For starters, you could tell him about that bun you got baking in your oven.”
I stop breathing. I haven’t told a soul; I’ve been afraid to say the words out loud. My hand goes to my stomach and I hold it there.
“Ida—”
“Don’t even try to start lying to me, Faith Lucas. You aren’t so big that I can’t bend you over my knee.”
“How did you know?”
“Oh please, you’ve been kneeling at the altar of the porcelain gods every morning at six, like clockwork.”
“I don’t know how to tell him.”
“My Titan deserves to know he’s going to be a daddy.”
I let the “my” part of her sentence pass. It almost makes me want to smile.
“What if he doesn’t believe me? I told him there was no way I could be pregnant. I was on the best birth control on the market, damn it,” I whisper, feeling more than a little lost.
“If he doesn’t believe you then you tell him to kiss your Lucas ass, and walk out with your head held high. What you don’t do is let him hitch his horse to another woman before you tell him.”
“I’ll think about it,” I answer—knowing I won’t be able to think of anything else.
“You do that, but do it packing. Black will be here in about thirty minutes.”
“Black?”
“Yeah, precious. He’s flying out to California with you. You don’t need to be flying alone in your condition.”
“But—”
“You better just do it. There’s no arguing with my woman when she gets an idea in her head,” Jansen tells me and I just look at the two of them.
“I’m not ready to go to California. I need to think about this.”
“Think about it on the plane. As it is, you’ll barely make it to that big fancy church before Titan says I do.”
“What?”
“He’s getting married this evening.”
“Then it’s already too late,” I murmur, feeling like the world is coming down around me.
“The hell it is. You’re a Lucas. We never let go of our man. Even when that man is an asshole. Ask Petal. She wouldn’t give up on Orange and as much as I hate to admit it, she was right about that one.”
“His name is Luka, lovey,” Jansen reminds her gently.
She shrugs and ignores him. In the time I’ve been here, Orange is all she calls him.
“You really think Titan would want…”
“You’ll never know until you grow a pair and go talk to him,” she answers with a shrug. It’s not exactly comforting or even confidence building, but when I look at her, I know she’s right. Titan deserves to know he’s going to be a father. It will be up to him what he does with that information.
“I’ll go pack,” I tell her, getting up out of the chair.
“That’s my girl. Now, when you get back, we need to discuss names.”
“Names?” I ask over my shoulder, already heading to the front door.
“For little Titan. A name is very important. Titan is a god among men, so his daughters and sons should be too. I’m thinking Zeus for a boy and maybe Eris if it’s a girl.”
“Eris?” I ask, standing at the door, waiting to go in.
“Supposedly she’s a goddess of chaos. It seemed fitting,” she says with a sly grin.
“Lord help us,” Jansen says with a chuckle. I close the door on Ida Sue telling him how Eris is a perfectly good name.
I have to pack… and get to California… and see my ex-husband… and his new wife to be… and panic.
Definitely panic.
26
Titan
“You sure about this?” Gavin asks for like the millionth time.
“Quit busting my ass, man,” I growl, not needing this shit. I look down at my watch. Thirty minutes until show time. With every minute that passes, I’m more and more convinced I’m making the wrong decision. Having Gavin here poking at me is not helping.
“I’m just saying marriage is a big fucking step,” he says—proof he’s not going to zip it up.
“Seems to be working out well for you,” I respond.
“I love Casey. I’ve always loved her.”
“What-fucking-ever,” I growl. I’ve got a migraine working its way through me and I don’t need more of this crap.
“Faith asked Hope about you the other day.” This comes from Aden.
“She did?” I ask, doing my best to sound uninterested.
“Yeah. When Hope told her she was glad you two finally got your divorce, Faith hung up on her.”
“It wasn’t a divorce, it was an annulment,” I answer, refusing to look at him. I don’t know why the end of my marriage is a bitter pill to swallow, but it is. I don’t like when Aden and Gavin talk about it being a divorce too. That implies that Faith and I were truly together and couldn’t wait to get rid of each other. That’s not what went down—not really. We weren’t ever truly married, not in the real sense of the word. A wedding implies vows in front of a preacher, a big church full of your friends and family.
A day like today.
Except I don’t want to give Jacey my vows. I don’t want to get married. Be
fore, I had a plan. I would get married, Jacey would get her trust fund, and I’d get my job. We’d live separately but together for a year and then file for a quiet divorce. By then the trust fund would solely be Jacey’s even if she ran off with her girlfriend. It wouldn’t matter if Daddy Dearest disowned her. And I’d have my job. I wouldn’t make my father-in-law pissed either, because how could it be my fault that Jacey preferred a woman to my dick?
It was a simple plan. Besides, even if the last part didn’t pan out—after a year I would have proven myself as a general manager. I would have had other offers. I could have left the Turnpikes behind and not blinked.
The only problem is that the closer it gets to acting on this plan, the more I want to just say forget it. What does it matter if I’m coming into the game older than most other coaches? I’m not over the hill yet. I can get a small coaching job and work my way up. I have the ability and the knowledge. I can do it on my own and I can do it… without selling my soul. Jacey deserves better and she needs to just lay shit out to her father.
All of these realizations would have been better days before the wedding… not as the piano music begins to play outside while guests find their seats.
“Ida Sue says Faith has been sick,” Aden says quietly, dropping yet another bomb.
My body jerks as I fight my reaction to that. Of course she’s sick. She practically stayed naked the entire time she lived in Colorado and they keep talking about the flu season on the damn news. The girl needs a keeper. There was a time I thought about volunteering for the job, but then she walked out on me again. Hell, there’s only so many fucking times a man can stand that.
“That’s too bad. She should go to a doctor,” I answer, trying to sound unconcerned. I glance at my watch again and my hand tightens into a fist.
Time’s running out.
Am I really going to go through with this?
“You don’t care?” Aden asks. “You have no feelings about Faith at all?”
