by Cat Mason
Yanking my shirt over my head, I stare at the scar on my side. The only reminder that I have of my time with Jenn. My fingers run along the jagged flesh and I wince. Not in physical pain, because those wounds healed long ago. My pain is more than a flesh injury, it’s a deep and terminal wound, and with each passing day, only proves there are things so much worse than dying.
In a few hours, I’ll be back in my zone. Hiding behind my sunglasses while everyone parties at Ironsound headquarters for the company Christmas party. Grabbing a beer from my mini fridge, I pop the top and down, swallow after swallow. For now, I’ll just be Henry Richardson: the man who had it all and gave it away because he was too scared to fight for it.
Aiden
Thumping the pencil against the coffee table, I work the beat in my head for the new song I have been working on with Gray and Hunter. With my headphones blaring in my ears, I can’t hear the discussion around me, but I watch everyone move about the room. Studying people is what I do; it’s second nature.
Daisy’s parents stand with Gray’s dad, completely captivated with their grandson, while Jazzie chases Bits around with some stupid fucking elf that Daisy and the girls arrange in different places every night before we go to bed. That stupid thing is everywhere and all I want is to "arrange" him in the fireplace.
Bits yelps and barks as he skids under the table, coming to a stop at my feet. Jazzie walks up to me, her red dress swishing back and forth before she stops to tap her shoe on the hardwood. Her eyes narrow, staring down at my shoes, where the damn wiener dog sits.
“Can I help you?” I ask, slipping my headphones off my ears.
“Tell Bits he has to play with us,” she grumbles. “He keeps running away.”
Smart dog. I’d run from that elf too.
“Uncle Aiden, where should I put the elf so it will scare Bits?” she whispers loudly, covering her mouth as she giggles.
Grinning, I lean down and kiss her cheek. “You know what’s better than getting Bits?” I ask, tapping her nose with my finger. “Getting everyone. Would you like to do that?”
Her eyebrows knit together before she smiles like a Cheshire cat. “Yes!” she exclaims, jumping up and down still clutching that fucking holiday menace. “How do I do that?”
Wrapping an arm around her shoulder, I lean into her ear and tell her exactly what to do with that creepy looking fucker and promise to buy her a goddamn Queen of the Ice doll, or what the fuck ever that movie is she watches on repeat every day.
“Really, Uncle Aiden?” she shrieks, making me wince.
“Yes, I’ll have Mack go right now,” I assure her. “I just really really want to watch you get everyone with Mr. Nibbles.” I swallow hard at the mention of that damn thing’s name. “Make sure you do it quick, but don’t get to close. Just throw that little asshole, I mean little buddy, into the fire so he can warm up. It’s got to be cold at the North Pole this time of year.”
“Oh yes, it is, Uncle Aiden. You’re so smart,” Jazzie gasps, looking down at the elf. “Come on, Mr. Nibbles. Let’s warm you up.”
“Aiden Chesterfield,” Cam says behind me and I groan.
“Busted,” I say, tossing the pencil down.
“Jazzie,” Cam says, turning her attention to our five-year-old niece. “Mommy has the cookies in the kitchen and I bet she has you some chocolate milk ready too.”
“Oh boy!” she squeals, hauling ass for the kitchen.
“Hi, baby,” I reply, pulling Cam into my lap. “How’s everything?”
“Don’t you ‘how’s everything’ me.” Her eyes narrow, but there’s amusement in those deep blues. “Were you just conspiring to kill an elf on Christmas Eve?”
I shrug, attempting to look innocent. “Maybe, but that damn thing is creepy,” I argue, when she just shakes her head at me and rolls her eyes. “Those eyes are the eyes of a killer, Camaron. You’ll see when that bastard starts stealing knives and there are strange deliveries from hardware stores. Next thing you know, he’ll start killin’ us off one by one.”
“Do you hear yourself?”
“There’s my girl!” Daisy’s mom, Lisa, squeals when she spots her daughter coming down the stairs wrapping a black sweater tightly around herself as if she were freezing.
“Hi, Mom,” Daisy replies, walking into her hug and squeezing her tight.
Grayson walks down, bypassing the women completely, heading for his dad, Dan, who is holding Brannon while talking to Daisy’s father, Collin. Brannon instantly starts reaching for Gray and he takes him without a thought. “Something isn’t right here,” I whisper to Cam as we both watch things as they play out.
“No, it’s not,” Cam replies, only fueling my curiosity as to what is up with our best friends.
Chase
Daisy walks into the kitchen just as I finish setting up Jasmine with cookies and milk. “Need any help in here?” she asks, just as her mom, Lisa walks in behind her.
“Sure,” I nod, handing her a stack of square metal tins. “Roll up your sleeves and help me put a little bit of everything in each of those. Lisa, would you mind frying the rest of that bacon so that we can crumble it over these cupcakes?” I ask, pointing and gesturing as I talk.
“Sure,” they reply in unison before heading toward the sink to wash up.
Shoving her sleeves up past her elbows, Daisy washes her hands before layering each tin with red and green tissue paper. “Daisy, that sweater really doesn’t go with that dress,” her mother says, eyeing the black oversized cover up that I wish I could burn. Daisy has been hiding behind baggy clothes ever since we got back from Florida last month and it’s irritating as hell! The woman lost all her baby weight and then some by the time Brannon was four months old. She is acting like she has something to be ashamed of when she should be showing it off. Hell, I would be.
Something has changed and I don’t like it.
Even if she had gained twenty more pounds, hell, fifty, the woman would look amazing. She is beautiful inside and out, but the way she has been hiding lately, has taken a toll on not just her, but on Gray too. We’ve all noticed things are off with Daisy. Gray may not say anything, but Cam and I aren’t ready to let her go back to being a damn wall flower.
“No, it doesn’t,” Cam says from the doorway. “That dress deserves to be shown off, so does the hot momma wearin’ it.”
Everyone’s eyes on are Daisy and she hates it. “I’m just cold,” she replies, layering cookies along the edge of the tins before starting a row of peanut butter fudge.
“That’s a crock of shit, and we all know it,” I say, agreeing with Cam.
“Am I missing something?” Lisa asks, looking between Cam and me for answers.
Setting down the fudge, Daisy sighs. “I’m going to get some air.”
“Was it something I said?” Lisa asks once Daisy leaves the kitchen.
Cam shakes her head. “No, this is all me.” Turning on her heel, Cam starts down the hallway after her.
“I thought she looked fine. What’s the point in upsetting her?” Mack asks, walking into the kitchen from the dining room. “In my opinion–”
“Mack, your opinions are like hard-ons. There’s no need to fling it around at us to prove how big and important it is, okay? We all know you have one, but we’d all appreciate you keeping it to yourself. You’re a man and this is a delicate situation that requires a more feminine touch.”
“Well damn,” Mack grumbles, rolling his eyes. “Even on Christmas I’m the butt of the jokes. Can’t a guy get a day off?”
“Even the ass worked the Nativity, dickface,” Hunter says, strutting into the room. “You get nothing.”
Patting Mack’s shoulder, I giggle. “You love it, and you know it.”
“Uncle Mack, I’ve got cookies!” Jazzie exclaims from the table in the corner.
“See,” he huffs. Turning he goes and takes the chair beside her. “Someone loves me.”
“I knew I smelled bacon in here,” Hunter says, slipping
an arm around Lisa’s shoulders. “I’ll warn you now, I’m a weak, weak man in the presence of a woman who is good with a pair of tongs,” he adds, his mouth watering as she flips the bacon in the skillet. “The only thing that helps is a group hug from all of the women in the house. Kisses and groping are good too.”
“Oh, Hunter, that was weak.” Lisa looks up at him and arches a brow, clicking her tongue in disapproval. “Has Chase told you that it’s a good thing you’re cute?”
“Whoa!” Mack cheers. “Look at the scorch on that burn.”
“Shut up, asshole,” Hunter tosses out, glaring at Mack. “She said I was cute.”
“Cute is a word used for kittens and ladies’ handbags, numbnuts,” Mack replies pushing to his feet. “No guy above the age of thirteen wants to be called "cute". Ever.”
“Whatever, get back to your tea party. This is grown up talk over here,” Hunter says, chucking a cookie at him. “I’ll let you know when it’s time to get out your mat for naptime.”
“Fuck your mother in the face,” Mack says, tossing the cookie right back, smacking Hunter right in the nose. “You cookie stash trashin’, dream crushin’ cuntnugget.”
“Whoa there,” Hunter gasps, nodding in approval. “That was quite a mouthful there, Mack. Look at that, you didn’t even choke on it.”
“Daddy, Mommy said no naps today. She promised!” Jazzie shouts, standing up on her chair effectively interrupting the burnathon going on in the kitchen. “Santa is coming, I’m not taking a nap!” Hopping down from the chair, she stomps toward the door. “Uncle Mack, let’s go watch my movie.”
Mack stands and swipes a tin off the counter before following Jazzie out of the room. He grumbles about how he won’t be able to follow the movie with her singing so loud anyway.
Hunter wraps his arms around my waist, nuzzling my neck while I cover the cookie dough in multi colored sprinkles. “It’s almost time for you to sit on Santa’s lap.” I can’t help grinning at his raspy voice laced with promise. “Have you been a bad girl this year, Tiger Lily? I sure as fuck hope so,” Hunter groans, pressing into my back. My knees damn near buckle at the thought.
Maybe Jazzie needs a nap today after all. That way Mommy and Daddy can have a nooner.
Grayson
By the time everyone is ready to go to the Ironsound Christmas party, I have figured out my plan of attack. After talking with our parents, I began making calls to surprise my wife. My Wildflower has lost her shine and it’s time for me to help her find it again. Or at least get to the bottom of this shit and find out what is going on in her head lately.
“No, Mom. Thank you, but it’s fine, really,” Daisy argues, just as I knew she would. “I wanted to take Brannon. Hunter is dressing as Santa. It’s going to be so much fun for the kids. I don’t want him to miss out.”
“Nonsense,” Lisa scoffs, pulling Brannon into her arms. “Your father and I don’t feel like going to some party where we don’t know anyone. Jasmine is staying here with us anyway, so why shouldn’t Brannon? We want to spend time with our grandson.”
“I’ll be here too,” Dad chimes in, winking from across the room. “We’ve got the little ones out numbered.”
“That settles it then, don’t you think?” I interrupt, before Daisy can argue any further. “Come on, baby, we’ll be late.”
After thanking Lisa and ruffling up Brannon’s black hair, I toss a backpack over my shoulder and lead Daisy out the door toward the driveway. “Are you sure about this, Grayson?” she asks, glancing back toward the door.
“Our parents did manage to raise us, I’m pretty sure they can handle our son for a few hours,” I reply opening the back door to the sedan we use instead of the ‘Burban.
“Are we not riding with everyone else?” she asks, but slides into the back seat anyway.
“Don’t ruin it, Daisy.” Mack says from the front seat, with a grin. “I’m happy for the break from everyone else.”
Settling into the seat next to her, I place the bag at my feet and close the door. “Good to go, Mack.”
Nodding, Mack puts the car into gear and heads for the gate. Wrapping my arm around Daisy, I pull her against me and kiss her temple. “I thought we could use some alone time.”
Daisy nods, “There also isn’t a carrier in here for Brannon. You planned that with my mother, didn’t you Grayson?”
“I did.” Lacing my fingers with hers, I smile knowing that our matching tattoos are touching, connecting us.
She doesn’t argue or engage me further. Daisy seems content, curled against my side while Mack heads for downtown. Little does Daisy know, we aren’t going to the party at Ironsound Headquarters. If all goes according to plan, we will be connecting on all levels and getting back to how things should be.
***
Thirty minutes later, Mack pulls up outside the hotel I booked a room at for the rest of the night. Grabbing my bag, I open the door and climb out. “Thanks, Mack,” I say, holding my hand out for Daisy as she steps one foot out onto the pavement.
“No problem, man,” he replies, handing me an envelope. “Key card is inside for room 3893, everything is ready as you requested. The manager was a real sweetheart and took care of it all personally. I’ll be in the lobby downstairs once I park the car. When you’re ready to head back, or if you need anything, just text me.”
“Will do.”
I close the door once Daisy is on the sidewalk. Placing my hand in the small of her back, I follow her inside. Her eyes dart around as she takes in the surroundings of the extravagant Nashville hotel. The marble floors and glass chandeliers all radiate elegance. People in suits and women in cocktail dresses pass by as I steer us to the elevators, bypassing the front desk completely.
Daisy steps into the elevator and I quickly follow her inside, anxious to lay out my heart and get to the root of hers as well. Pushing the button for the seventh floor, I gather my thoughts and rehearse the speech in my head for the hundredth time since I had Mack sneak out this afternoon and take care of this part for me.
The elevator dings, announcing our floor just as the door opens. Stepping off, I take Daisy’s hand in mine. The need to touch her is so strong. It’s all consuming. Checking the numbers as we walk, I stop once I see the corner suite that belongs to us for the evening.
Daisy is fidgeting from foot to foot, nervously twisting her long blonde hair with her free hand. The woman standing beside me has retreated into a shell that I can’t seem to get her out of. No matter what any of us have said or done, she has only further recoiled into herself.
That is not okay with me.
I want my fucking Wildflower back.
I want my wife.
Opening the door, I usher her inside. “Have a seat on the couch. I have something I need to check on,” I explain, pointing to the love seat by the large French doors that lead to the balcony.
“Why are we here, Grayson?” she asks me in disbelief. “We are ditching a party for the record company, our family, our baby. It doesn’t make sense for you to do this all to be alone with me.”
“Everything will make sense. Give me five minutes and I’ll be right back out to explain everything,” I reply, heading for the bedroom. “We have a lot to talk about, Daisy. I also do not want to do it at home where we can and would be interrupted. I want it done tonight and I felt that neutral territory was the best way to do this.”
Once she sits on the couch, I close the door to the master bedroom and dump the contents of the bag on the bedside table. Just like I had asked, there are pink and red rose petals leading from the doorway to a large floor length mirror and then leading to the bed. Candles are lit all around the room, but all focus is on the mirror. It is the focal point of the room, just as I requested.
Yanking my shirt over my head, I kick out of my shoes and take a deep breath. Looking at my reflection, I exhale. “You can do this, Gray.”
Daisy
Unable to sit on the damn couch and just wait, I pace the front room
of the suite. Everything I have been feeling is bubbling up to the surface the more everyone pushes and I don’t want to deal with it. My emotions are a fucking mess. I’m waiting for the day when Grayson says this was a mistake and he hands me divorce papers. He can’t be happy with the bullshit I keep putting him through. Communication is a big deal with him, and I haven’t been giving him that.
Everything was fine until we went on that damn vacation. Now, no matter how hard I try, I can’t get past it. Beautiful women in bikinis, their flawless bodies taunting me everywhere we went that week. It couldn’t have been a more perfect set up for the proposal from a shady physician, and if I didn’t know better, I would totally swear it was.
While building a castle with Brannon, a man handed me his business card. Then proceeded to tell me that he specializes in post-pregnancy damage repair and would love to "take care of me". It pissed me off, but it hurt like hell, too. I packed up the baby and went back to the hotel and scrutinized every inch of myself in the mirror. I didn’t go back to the beach without a cover-up over my suit for the rest of the trip. To tell the truth, I am smaller now then I was before I got pregnant, but my body feels different. Almost like it isn’t mine anymore. I have never been insecure about my body, but that nagging voice seems to sneak back in every time I think I’ve beaten it.
Two steps forward one step back my ass. I never gain any ground it seems.
“Come here, Daisy,” Grayson’s voice breaks through my thoughts. Stepping toward him, my eyes roam down his bare chest and back up again to his face. His eyes give nothing away as he reaches for me. “Close your eyes, baby.”
My eyes flutter closed and he leads me slowly where he wants me. “Grayson, this is silly,” I say nervously once he stops.
“It’s my turn to talk, Daisy,” Grayson says, stopping me from saying anything further. His hands slide up my arms, pushing the sweater off my shoulders before it leaves my body completely. My hair is brushed over one shoulder, exposing my back. “I want you to see something,” he whispers, his breath hot against my ear. “Open your eyes.”
