"Are all the men in your family this pushy?"
"Yep. Jake and Dad are even worse. Am I pulling your hair?"
"Not at all. It feels nice," Baylor said, feeling like jelly in Hayden's hands as he gently dried her hair and brushed it to a shine. "I do find it difficult to believe that Jake would allow anyone to eat in his bed. I have never seen such an immaculate room,"
"He wouldn't mind as long as you were comfortable and taken care of. After you eat, I'll put you to bed."
"I can put myself to bed. I've been doing it on my own for nearly twenty years."
"Didn't anyone ever tuck you in?" he asked.
"There was no reason to. I grew up way before my time. I've always been an adult."
"We need to change that. You're too young to act so old. Except for the gum. That's got to go," Hayden mumbled.
"I happen to like my gum, thank you. And now that I know that it bothers you and your brother, I will have to make sure I chew it even more often."
"Brat," he said and chuckled, quickly finishing with her hair. He brushed it into soft waves upon her shoulders and held out his hand to help her up from the stool. Baylor followed him into the bedroom and slid under the cool, crisp sheets on Jake's bed.
"Mmm, everything around here smells so good," she muttered, burying her face in his pillow. Her body grew heavier by the second as she sank into the soft mattress. "I'm sorry, but I'm passing on the food. I'm way too sleepy."
"I see that, Sweetie. Get some sleep," Hayden said gently, stroking her back. "I'll see you in the morning. I'll leave the night light on for you to chase away the boogieman."
"Why? Is Jake coming back tonight?" Baylor snickered into the fragrant pillow.
"No such luck. Besides, he's the wrong type of boogieman. These night shifts are hell on him. He likes the light and is drawn to it like a moth."
"Does he sizzle and pop when he gets too close?" She couldn't resist.
"I have seen him sizzle and pop many times, but that's usually when a sassy little girl challenges his orders. Or pops bubbles in his face," Hayden said in return. "Go to sleep."
"Night. Thank you," Baylor murmured as slumber swiftly claimed her exhausted body. She remembered the feel of lips pressing against her temple as the blankets were tucked protectively around her shoulders. Her heart ached—she was unable to recall the last time anyone had either kissed her so tenderly, or tucked her in. Reluctantly, she admitted that this parental type of caring was very soothing, but only when she was tired!
Chapter Two
The sound of men's voices permeated Baylor's dreams and slowly brought her to a state of alertness. She quickly brushed her teeth and threw her hair into a single, high ponytail before venturing downstairs.
"Good morning, Sunshine!" Hayden said cheerfully, jumping up to pour her a cup of coffee. "You're up early. How did you sleep?"
"Like the dead. Where are my clothes?"
"I tossed a load in for you since you didn't have a washer and dryer," another voice announced. Baylor frowned at the stranger sitting in the recliner with a remote control in his hand.
"Pardon me? You are?"
"I guess you don't recognize me out of uniform and in the light of day. Sorry about the wet swimsuit; I always take a dip when I get off my shift. Jake Paterson," Jake said, standing up to shake her hand. She gulped, looking up into his hazel eyes after a quick sweeping gaze over his muscular body. He certainly cleaned up nicely, Baylor mused.
"He was being respectful and wore a suit in your honor." Hayden chuckled.
"I appreciate that," Baylor lied, noticing the prominent bulge through the boxer cut. "You always swim? Even during the winter?"
"Come rain or shine. It clears my head, especially after doing a twelve hour stint. I am glad you chose to follow my directions last night," Jake said, his deep voice rattling through her veins.
"I didn't realize how tired I was, that's all," Baylor said defensively. "As for washing my clothes—don't you think you're taking this 'to protect and serve' thing a little too literally?"
"It's what I do. Here is your house key. I got in this morning, as promised. Think about making a copy."
"I'll do that tomorrow."
"I hope you like pancakes. I stuffed them with fresh blueberries," Hayden interrupted, setting a stack of the fragrant hotcakes on the table. "Sit and eat."
"Thank you," Baylor said, accepting the keys from Jake. His fingers touched hers, sending a little shock up her arm. She pulled away and turned to Hayden. "I have to say that this concept that men actually cook and clean is a shocker to me. It smells fabulous, but I really have to get back to the other place. I slept in too late, and—"
"Eat," Jake ordered, stabbing a forkful and putting them on her plate. "You need your energy. Give her juice, not coffee. She needs the vitamins," he added to Hayden.
"I happen to enjoy coffee. You both need to listen to me. I am finding this whole thing very uncomfortable," Baylor said with a frown. "You are way too familiar with how you are bossing me around. You don't even know me, and you act like you're taking possession of my life. I don't like it."
"Really?" Jake looked at her with amusement. "Are you saying you don't need, or deserve, to be bossed around? Or that you don't require someone to take care of you?"
"That is exactly what I am saying; on both counts. What are you laughing about, Chuckles?" She glared at Hayden.
"You poor, poor dear. You have no idea who you are dealing with. The Almighty Jake has stepped into the room and there is no escape." Hayden laughed. "Being overbearing is his super-power."
"Chuckles?" Jake questioned, raising his eyebrow. "Hmm, I wonder what the guys will think of that."
"Don't be an ass, Jake," Hayden said.
"And don't you ever swear when there is a lady present." Jake narrowed his eyes.
Baylor swallowed, taken aback by the expression on the man's attractive, hard-featured face. It was, without a doubt, a look that no one disobeyed. Not even his brother.
"You," Jake tapped the table to get Baylor's attention. "Eat now. When you have cleaned your plate, you may go."
"I am not a child."
"Then don't behave like one. Show that you can take proper care of yourself and I'll lay off."
"I have half a mind to report you to your chief!" Baylor threatened.
"And I have an itchy palm that wants to roast your bottom. Would you like to see which one of us experiences the greatest discomfort?"
Baylor glared at him, then slammed her napkin down on the table. "How dare you speak to me in that manner! No one," tears suddenly burst from her eyes, "has ever spoken to me like that in my entire life!"
"Well, maybe someone should have. At least, someone who cared enough about you to put their foot down," Jake said calmly, unbothered by her outburst. "I can spot girls like you from a mile away. You deny it at first because you think you have something to prove, but you all eventually find your way to meet your needs if you're given a road map."
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Baylor shouted, tears flowing freely down her face.
"I warned you about your language. Go stand in the corner, and don't come out until you are ready to lower your voice and carry on a conversation without the profanity."
"You are unfuckingbelievable! How can you stand there and let him talk to me like this?" Baylor yelled at Hayden.
"Because I'm in agreement with him. He's right. You are on a path to self-destruction, and need to be redirected before you burn yourself out. You're teetering on the edge, and even I can see that you are ready to topple over. You need a time out to think about what you're doing to yourself."
"You don't even know me!" Baylor cried in frustration.
"Your eyes are sunken in from lack of sleep. Your skin is thin and dry from lack of water. Your hands are shaking," Hayden observed. "I saw that last night. I'm guessing low blood sugar. Are you diabetic?"
"No!" Baylor hissed. She was not about to admit her hypoglycemi
c condition to either of them. Not only would it make her appear to be weaker, but she suspected they would use it as an excuse to push her around some more.
"Something isn't right." Hayden frowned, lifting his eyebrow as he studied her. "Either way, you might not have asked us to help you, but we don't stand on ceremony. Everyone in this family is involved in SAR in one way or another. I told you that saving people from themselves is what we do best."
"You need to just leave me alone. I didn't move from one controlling situation to get myself into another."
"From what you told me," Hayden handed her a tissue, "the control in your marriage was solely based on what your husband and family wanted for themselves, and your needs were not taken into consideration. That's not what we are about. We have nothing to gain by helping you get on your feet except a good neighbor and an exceptional friend."
"You both are fucking lunatics."
"I'm giving you until the count of three," Jake warned. "One…"
"Let me give you a little heads up," Hayden said, taking her hand. "When it comes to discipline, none of us in this house worry about consent. Don't push him, or you will find your little bottom getting blistered."
"This is insane!"
"Two…"
"Quite the contrary. We're probably the first sane people you have met in a long, long time," Hayden said kindly. "I warned you about SAR folks, didn't I? I promised you we would not interfere unless we thought you were in danger, didn't I?"
Baylor looked back and forth between the two, her eyes blurred with the tears that just kept coming out of nowhere. She felt like a deer in the headlights; frozen with the onslaught of emotion, and unable to either fight or run.
"The corner, Baylor Anne. This is the last time I'm telling you." Jake's orders were clear and concise.
"How did you know my full name?" Baylor whispered in a tiny voice, as her resolve began to weaken. She hated that Hayden was right. She was in danger, and on the brink of losing what little control she thought she had left in her life. The stress was too much, and boiled inside of her like a volcano. She felt strangely light-headed, too. A moment of panic ran through her as she realized how overboard in their reactions they would go if they found out she was not only a diagnosed hypoglycemic, but that she also frequently forgot to take her medication for severe hypertension caused by anxiety.
"I ran your license, remember? Just do as you're told and take a few minutes to think about how you got here, and how much easier it would be to cooperate and behave like a good girl," Jake said, his voice just a tad softer. "When you are dismissed, you are to tell me what you contemplated, understand?"
"Other than how many ways you can kill Jake in his sleep," Hayden added. "Now go."
Mentally and physical exhausted, Baylor numbly obeyed and leaned her forehead against the corner of the wall. She felt strange and confused by her unnatural compliance. It was as though she obtained peace the second she stopped fighting and submitted to the discipline.
It was strange how the 'corner time' provided her with an opportunity to recall her childhood and her failed marriage—something she had avoided thinking about for a very long time. Her mother had birthed a set of twins by the time Baylor turned three, and the toddler was used to picking up the slack to care for her younger siblings. Another baby, then another set of twins followed, filling the house with five little brothers and sisters and increasing responsibilities for her as the first born. Adding to the horrific chaos of her home life was the disorderly, bad-mannered and unmanageable nature of every one of the children. Their mother actively discouraged them from showing any respect or consideration for their eldest sister or her needs, and would reprimand Baylor in front of them to keep her from believing that she had any authority in her position.
While her mother (and most recent boyfriend) spent nearly every evening out drinking and smoking pot, Baylor was left at home with the increasing responsibilities of babysitting, feeding, cleaning, and helping the older children with homework. She had no time for friends or extracurricular activities beyond the photojournalism class she took during regular school hours. It was the only thing Baylor had true passion for and her mother, jealous of anything that drew attention away from herself, used it against her. Her camera became her mother's weapon to squelch rebellion, and she frequently took it from the girl if displeased with Baylor's performance or felt the need to make an example of her.
After graduating high school, Baylor had started college and met Felix Kasaab in a hookah lounge. He was a visiting business student at UC Davis in Sacramento—tall, handsome and the perfect gentleman. It was love at first sight, and Baylor received her very first kiss that same night. One month later, while in a drunken stupor after finishing her mid-terms, she allowed him to clumsily take her virginity—without protection. The following month, her missed period led to the fear of a possible pregnancy. Even after Baylor discovered that the scare was unjustified, Felix confessed his 'misdeed' to his parents, and was coerced into asking for her hand to avoid any future social disgrace to the disgustingly wealthy and affluent family.
Baylor eagerly accepted, seeing the opportunity to escape the imprisonment of her home-life and be part of a 'real' family. Her mother objected vehemently on the basis of needing Baylor's help, and announced that Baylor's decision to marry was as selfish as the one she'd made to start college. Baylor patiently reminded her mother that the other children were in school and old enough to care for themselves, and suggested that it was time for the older woman to grow up and take on her own responsibilities instead of shoving them onto her children. Her mother reacted violently to the girl's 'ungrateful stubbornness', broke Baylor's beloved camera into a thousand pieces, and informed her that she would never be welcome home again if she left. Baylor did not look back as she walked out the door.
Baylor's life was the epitome of someone who jumped from the frying pan into the fire. At the end of her first semester, her future in-laws insisted she move south to Los Angeles. They assured her that college would be unnecessary because the 'family' would take care of every need. Baylor adamantly refused to move in with Felix's parents, a decision that went unsupported by her husband, who was accustomed to being waited on by his mother. As a compromise, her future in-laws found an old, inexpensive rental in a questionable neighborhood for the new couple. It was conveniently close to the family home, and uncomfortable enough to encourage Felix to spend an inordinate amount of time at his parents' house.
As she was in a new area, and lacking any form of income of her own, the control her future family had over Baylor's life grew in leaps and bounds. They made all the wedding arrangements, including what was written in the vows. They dictated the guest list, the food served, reception music, place and length of the honeymoon, and even what dress she would wear. She was told that it was because they 'cared' and wanted her to have the best. The only thing they did in Baylor's best interest was to refuse to invite her mother and siblings to the wedding.
Baylor returned from a disastrous (and unsatisfying) three-day honeymoon in Las Vegas and was met with the discovery that all of her belongings had been moved to a storage unit—to which she was forbidden a key. The ugly house had also been horrendously decorated according to her mother-in-law's garish sensibilities, in an attempt to manipulate Baylor into agreeing to move into the family home. Baylor tried to control her resentment and explained that she needed her home to reflect her and Felix's tastes and needs, and that she would live under a bridge before she moved in with anyone other than her husband. Her protests were answered with silence, and she was immediately labeled as ungrateful and unworthy.
She became a hostage to the whims of Felix and his family; shunned from functions, cut off from the bank account, and removed from all means of transportation. Except for the minimal groceries, Felix used his parents' money to purchase video games, magazines, alcohol and recreational items to share with his friends.
Stricken by loneliness, as Felix went b
ar hopping or spent dinner times with his parents, Baylor determined to force herself back into their good graces, and unwillingly became an indentured servant. A loveless marriage and the constant demands of the family severely taxed the young woman. Her in-laws continued to push her to move into their home, finally informing her that they would only provide for her needs after she produced children. That was the final straw. Baylor knew that divorce would not be an option if she proposed it, so she planned another way of escape.
She took measures to ensure she would not get pregnant. After three years, the in-laws forced her to attend the fertility clinic in Santa Ana—far away from the community in Los Angeles to avoid being recognized and exposing their 'shame'. To maintain as much anonymity as possible, Baylor was instructed to take a bus to the clinic and pay for everything in cash. She presented a single time for a physical, and was diagnosed with hypoglycemia, hypertension and anxiety. After hearing the story of her situation, the sympathetic physician not only inserted a contraceptive implant which was easily hidden from her inattentive husband, but also provided a general list of expenses for the 'fertility' treatment should her physical, and marital, issues be resolved. Baylor verbalized concern that her husband and in-laws would try to obtain her records and force her to proceed with the treatment and an unwanted pregnancy—the doctor responded with assurance that treatment records were completely confidential. He also suggested that, since she was paying in cash, she could register her treatment under a false name to ensure her privacy. He oversaw the record changes, wished her the best in her health and happiness, then took her aside to urge her to start the procedure to change back to her maiden name and regain her independence. In addition, he was confident that the family would not question her 'procedure' for fear that someone might suspect a problem.
Moving a Little Heart Page 3
