Retaliate

by Kristin Harte

  Bishop nodded, looking so damn hurt. A man reliving the time he’d spent sliding into hell. By then, he’d tracked me down in Vegas. Had come to find out why I’d left him. I’d slammed the door in his face, both literally and figuratively.

  And that wasn’t the worst of it.

  “You came home for spring break that year,” I said, letting myself remember. For once allowing the happiness to creep through the sad. “You told me you wanted to marry me.”

  He clenched his hand into a fist. Pulling himself away even more. “I did.”

  It was time. But even as I felt sure of that, as I stared down at the old tabletop, unable to look him in the face for this one, the words were just so hard to say.

  My voice was rough when I said, “We made a baby that week.”

  I felt more than saw him recoil, something that forced my eyes to his even as they burned with the tears I did my best to hold back. The look on his face, the surprise. The pain. It half killed me, so I rushed on.

  “I didn’t find out… I wouldn’t have kept it a secret, but by the time I knew…”

  “You were gone.” Hard and angry, his words hit me like a physical blow. Knocking me back in my chair. So wrong and yet not harsh enough. Not for what I’d let happen. For what I’d done.

  “No,” I said, breathing deep and fighting to keep the sick from rising in my throat. “By the time I knew, I’d already killed her.”

  Bishop lurched to his feet, his chair flying across the room as he stumbled back. “You had an abortion without talking to me?”

  “No,” I said, shaking my head and closing my eyes against what I knew was coming. What I knew had to be told. “I wouldn’t have done that.”

  What I’d done hadn’t been much better.

  “Then what, Anabeth?” Bishop sounded almost crazed. Pissed off and likely unsure where to focus that rage. “You tell me you were pregnant with my child and you killed it… What the fuck happened? What was so bad that you had to run away from me and never talk to me about it?”

  “Finn was using—”

  “I know that,” he roared.

  I looked up, meeting his gaze. Needing to have his full attention for my confession. “And so was I.”

  Bishop froze, staring at me with his mouth hanging open. Every inch of him tense but restrained. On a leash. “You what?”

  There was no prettying up this part. “It wasn’t as often or as much, but I…I hung out with him a lot. We used sometimes. It made me feel better when I was missing you.”

  “So this is my fault.”

  “No, it’s fully mine. But I want you to understand. I hated being here without you. I never tried to hold you back, though. I didn’t want to get in your way. So I waited, and I filled my time with what I could to keep me sane.”

  He paced, his steps fast and strong. His path too short for such a wide stride. Like some sort of caged animal. “How long?”

  The drugs. Of course he’d want to know more about the drugs.

  “Almost a year before I got clean. Miss’ friend that took me in—he wouldn’t work with me if I was high, and I wanted to perform, so I stopped. Went to rehab. Did all the things he told me I had to do, all the things Miss wanted me to do. Except one. I didn’t come back here. I couldn’t face any of you after what happened.”

  Bishop sat back down, heavy. Tired. Still keeping so much distance between us. A distance that left me trembling for his touch.

  “Jesus, Anabeth. I would have helped you.”

  “I know that. But by then…the guilt consumed me. I was so ashamed of what I’d done. What I’d lost for us.” I shook my head, wiping away the cold, wet trails under my eyes. The tears I had no right to cry. “I couldn’t face you.”

  He inched closer, dragging his chair around the side of the table. Making my heart skip a beat. “How did you lose the baby?”

  Oh God. The one confession I hated to make above all others. The memory that ate at me every day, that never let me rest, that gave me nightmares. The decision that had almost killed me. But it was time—he deserved the truth. The whole story, even the ugliest parts.

  “The old barn…the meth lab you burned down? It’s been there for a long time. Finn found it one summer, and we sort of made it our secret place. He and I used to hide out down there senior year, getting high and hanging around like it was some sort of clubhouse.” A clubhouse with lighters and cigarette papers, needles and rubber tubing. All the things we needed to chase that euphoria we couldn’t find any other way. At least, until I took it too far. “One day, Finn got this new meth—said it was too good to smoke and that we had to inject it. So I did. I never even questioned him.”

  “You overdosed?”

  If only. “No. I had a seizure, and my heart stopped beating. Technically, I died.”

  Bishop jerked back, fists raised as if to throw a punch. He closed his eyes, whispering a rough, “Jesus, Anabeth,” before shaking his head.

  Every inch of me hurt, my body trembling and cold. Not yet, I told myself. You can break when you’re done, but not yet.

  “I’m thankful that Finn got me help. To this day, I don’t know how I made it, but I did. I woke up in a hospital bed and thought I was so lucky, that I’d finally reached the bottom and could use that to make a fresh start. I could get clean and do all the right things again. And I had plans to tell you about the drugs and the seizure—I really did. But after I was stabilized and aware of what was going on, this doctor came in looking so angry. He stood there at the end of my bed and berated me for being so irresponsible. He told me how I’d been pregnant, but that I wasn’t anymore. That I’d lost the baby when I’d…”

  I couldn’t say it. Couldn’t admit even to him that my drug use had cost us our child’s life. All I could do was sit and sob for everything that one decision had cost me. My future, my family, my child, Bishop—everything. The guilt swamped me, left me drowning in a sea of emotions too rough to traverse. Too cold to survive. And Bishop…if he walked away as I’d always assumed he would, if he now saw me as something wretched and cruel, he would take my heart with him. Fully and completely. There would be no more future, no more chances, no more possibilities. There would be no more hope in my world.

  But Bishop didn’t leave. He didn’t make a sound either. He sat and he stared at me and he stayed so still, I almost didn’t know what to do.

  And he made me scream when he wrapped his arms around me and lifted me into his lap.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Bishop

  My God, this girl. So much. She’d been through so much while I’d been away at school. And I’d had no idea. None. I’d failed her. I’d been careless with the one person I should have been cautious with. Been off doing my own thing—pushing myself to the brink to finish quickly instead of taking my time. Leaving her alone for my brothers to keep an eye on instead of waiting or figuring out a way to keep us together. I’d known her past—I’d always known that drugs and addiction were a part of her family story. I’d never thought they’d touch her again, though. I’d never thought she’d fall under their spell. I’d been so very wrong.

  I grabbed her, unable to keep even an inch of space between us. Needing to hold her and remind myself that she’d made it through that day. That she was still here—still breathing, still alive. That the world could keep spinning simply because her heart beat on.

  “You could have told me,” I said as I dragged her into my lap and curled my body around hers. Protecting her. Trying to be a shield against anything that might hurt her, though I was too late. The pain came from inside, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

  Anabeth shook her head, sighing and collapsing against me. “I hated myself for everything. I hated myself so much.”

  “I meant, from the start. You could have told me about the drugs—I would have helped you get clean. I would have beat the shit out of Finn for even bringing that stuff around you.”

  “It wasn’t his fault. I’ve blamed him
for so long, but it was my choice to use.” Her hands clung to me, fisting my shirt. “I didn’t think of it as a problem, though. We used, we didn’t—there was never a need, you know? It never seemed like a big deal. Not until that day.” She shook her head. “I’m so sorry I didn’t say anything about Finn when he started using. I never thought he’d fall so deep.”

  I couldn’t think about my brother right then. Not without a lot of fucking anger. He should have protected Anabeth, not led her down the path he did. And knowing what had happened to him—the years of addiction, the years in prison—it could have all been her. I could have lost her forever. I was pissed enough to want to hunt him down and beat the piss out of him, but I didn’t. Couldn’t. Anabeth was a mess and still needed me, and this time, I wouldn’t fail her.

  I would push her, instead. I would get the full story. “Tell me about Vegas.”

  Anabeth took a deep breath as if steeling herself against more pain. Fuck, I hated that this hurt her so much.

  “Miss moved me there to get me away from Finn, though she’d thought it would be temporary. Paul, the man who opened the door when you came looking for me, was a friend of hers. He was supposed to put me up while I got clean and earned my GED since there was no way I was going back to school here.”

  “But you stayed. So what happened?”

  “Paul was a medium on the Strip—talking to dead people and charming tourists. That’s how he knew Miss—the two met at some new-age gifted seminar thing. Anyway, he took me with him once or twice while he performed, just to get me out of the apartment. I fell in love with what he did, with the people watching him and the way he commanded the crowds. I wanted it for myself, but Miss didn’t want me on stage. She didn’t feel I was ready for a world so dirty and dishonest. Paul agreed and honored her request. For a while.”

  “What changed his mind?”

  “I kept slipping up—using. Relapsing, I guess, though I’d never really been clean to start with, so maybe that word doesn’t fit. Whatever—I would go out, get high, get into trouble. Paul made me go to school to get my GED and even put me through a vocational program to be a dental hygienist, all while I—”

  My chuckle stopped her. “Sorry. It’s just—”

  “Can’t see me dealing with teeth all day?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Yeah, I couldn’t either. And I was so miserable and depressed, which just made me chase the drugs even more. It was a vicious cycle, but the one thing that made me happy—made me think there was some sort of future to look forward to—was hanging out at Paul’s shows and watching the different performers. Knowing I had enough skills with the tarot deck to do the same thing. Finally, Paul offered me a chance—he’d put me on the stage with him and get me started in paranormal entertainment, but only if I stayed clean.”

  Smart guy. “So you quit.”

  “Yeah. I quit. Haven’t touched anything harsher than an aspirin since.”

  I kissed the top of her head, so damn grateful for the guy I’d hated for so long. Without him, I could have truly lost her. I would never be able to pay him back for what he did for Anabeth. And I’d never get over how she’d pulled herself up practically all alone to get what she wanted and to do it without drugs in her path.

  “I’m proud of you.”

  “Don’t be,” she said, sitting back and pulling away to wipe her face. “I never should have used in the first place. I never should have lied to everyone about all of it.” She looked up at me with so much sadness in her eyes. I couldn’t resist. I cupped her face, my big hands sliding all the way into her hairline.

  “I hate that you went through all this alone.”

  “I had Miss—she called every day and did her best to be there when I really needed her to be.”

  Which we both knew wasn’t enough. I wouldn’t speak ill of the woman for doing what she had thought was best, but that didn’t mean her actions hadn’t caused me pain. Hadn’t helped ruin the last fourteen years of my life.

  I’d just have to learn to swallow down that anger at some point. “I came to see her—we had dinner right here in this kitchen numerous times. All these years, and she never said a word to me.”

  “She hated keeping my seizure and the baby a secret, but I made her promise. I begged her every time I called. I couldn’t deal with you knowing… And the thought that you’d hate me for what I did? It all just hurt so much. The pain never stopped for a second.”

  I rubbed her back and kissed her again when it didn’t seem as if she could go on, this time on her reddened cheek. The one without the bruise marring it. Jesus, I had so much to make up for. I’d failed her so hard.

  I wouldn’t ever fail her again.

  “It’s over now, Firefly.” I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her against me, wanting to protect her. To hold on to her. To keep her safe. To keep her mine. “I’ve got you, and I’m not letting you go. No matter what.”

  She shook her head, so fucking stubborn as always. “You should. You should push me away and make me leave. Bishop, I—”

  “Stop beating yourself up,” I said, speaking every word with distinction. “You died that day. I could have lost you.”

  Her eyes looked so pained, so heartbreakingly sad when she stared up at me. “I lost our baby.”

  Yeah, that hurt. A lot. More than I’d ever thought possible, really. The idea that we’d created a life, a child, and that drugs had destroyed the tiny being before it had even really begun… I didn’t know how to deal with that. Didn’t know how to grieve the loss of possibility so many years later.

  What I did know was that I’d give anything to try again. “You called it her earlier. Would we have had a girl?”

  “I don’t know. They never told me one way or the other, but I think of her as a little girl. I always think of her.”

  I had a feeling I would too, now. “I wish you would have told me so I could mourn with you. I could have held you up when you fell, beautiful.”

  She sniffed, resting her forehead against my chest as I rocked her. “I was so afraid you’d hate me.”

  “Maybe I should.” I held her tighter when she tried to pull away. “You took my choices away from me and cut me out of everything I would have wanted to do—taking care of you, mourning our loss together, growing into adults who could have better dealt with all that shit. You stole that from me.”

  Her breathing sped up, and she choked on a quiet, “I’m so sorry.”

  “So am I, and it’s going to take some time for me to come to grips with this. But I will come to grips with it. And I need you to know that I’m still all in, Anabeth. Always have been, always will be.” I held her tighter, unable to let go. Not willing to give her a chance to pull away again but needing to know one more thing. The most important thing. “So what do I need to do to make sure you’re all in with me?”

  She jerked back, staring at me with wide eyes. “What do you mean?”

  Cards on the table time. “You and me. Together. How do we do this? Do you need to go back to Vegas to perform?”

  She nodded slowly, still watching me. Still stunned. That was okay, I was stunning myself pretty damn good, too.

  “When?”

  “I can push a few things, but I have a show next week that I can’t miss.”

  More time than I’d thought. But only if she wanted to share those days with me. “How long do you want to stay here, then?”

  “Bishop, this is cra—”

  “Do you want to be with me, Anabeth?”

  She sat as still as a stone, watching me with bloodshot eyes. Taking me in. I refused to waver, holding her stare like a man on a mission. Like a man about to give his heart away one last time.

  “Do you?” I prodded when she didn’t answer me. Impatient. I’d waited so long for this moment—I was tired of fucking waiting.

  Her nod had my heart soaring, and her whispered yes nearly killed me. Finally. No fucking way was I letting her walk away again. Not ever. No matter
what, I’d be by her side from that day forward.

  “Good, because I want to be with you too. So fucking much, Anabeth. I don’t want to waste another second without you right beside me. That means we deal with your career and my responsibilities here together. As a team.”

  She nodded again, still looking completely surprised. “You want to be with me.”

  “I always have, Firefly.” I yanked her close and captured her mouth with mine, unable to resist those soft, sweet lips another second. Not wanting to ever stop kissing her. And when she moaned softly for me, when she opened her mouth against mine, I took full advantage. Licking my way inside and tasting every inch of her mouth. Gripping her hips and holding her tight against me until it felt as if we could heal ourselves through that kiss alone. That we could put the pieces back together.

  “So much lost time,” I said as I released her mouth so I could nibble down her neck. “So many missed opportunities to taste you.”

  “Bishop.”

  Hands on her ass, I pulled her closer, wanting to hang on forever. Never wanting to let go. “Just keep saying my name, Firefly. Every time you do, I know we’re one step closer to forever.”

  She smiled, shifting around and pulling up one leg to straddle me before leaning in to place the softest, sweetest kiss of my life on my lips. And when she pulled away, when she moved back to give me that real smile of hers that people so rarely saw, I knew she was mine. Forever.

  My heart felt so damned full, but there were still things that had to be said. “You and me? We’re going to work. Nothing can stand in our way anymore. But we have to be honest with each other. No more secrets. No hiding from anything. We have to be each other’s biggest ally. I don’t want any doubt between us.”

  “No more doubt.” She kissed me again, her lips so fucking soft against mine. Her body so warm and pliant. “Bishop.”

  “See, Firefly? Right there…that’s one step closer.”

  She laughed and rolled her hips, teasing me right there at her kitchen table. Offering all of herself to me. And I took. Tasted. Devoured. Because she was mine and I was hers, and nothing—not drugs, not the past, not a couple of jobs we both loved—would ever take her away from me again.