Anything For Them

by Lola StVil

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “Jackson, Green’s death is not on you.”

  “I could have stopped it. If not that day, I could have stopped it weeks earlier by doing what Megan asked me to do.”

  “Megan’s request was insane. She had no right to ask you that. And it’s not your fault for turning her down. Green died doing what he loved. Period. You can’t take the blame for that.”

  I turn to him earnestly and voice the fears that have been haunting me. “Wyatt, if I had done what she asked, her fiancé would still be alive today.”

  “Green was an adult, and he made his decision. It wasn’t your call to make. I thought you were talking this over with a therapist. Are you still dodging her?” he asks.

  I didn’t mean to smile; it’s just what happens when I think about Mia.

  “Ah hell, what is that smile about?” Wyatt demands.

  “Her name is Mia. She’s fucking amazing.”

  He studies my face, and his eyes grow dark with disapproval. “Jackson, you can’t screw the woman you are supposed to be getting help from. God knows you have options, don’t do this.”

  “I’m not screwing her. It’s not like that!” I reply, insulted.

  “Okay, so what the hell is it like?”

  “She’s gorgeous. Smart. Funny,” I reply. Wyatt suppresses a smile but doesn’t say anything.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  “I’ve never seen you this excited about any woman before,” he admits.

  “She’s not just any woman. She has a kid. His name is Aaron. He’s so damn cute. He has a thing for sharks. And she has cats but doesn’t actually have cats.” I don’t mean to ramble, but I can’t help it. “She’s kind of nuts in a way because, well, she bought a pet shop, and that’s going to cost her far too many coins. She should have waited a little while longer before she invested.”

  “She owns a pet shop? I thought she was a therapist?”

  “No, it’s not a real pet shop. Anyway, I think I’m gonna buy her the building.”

  “You’re buying this woman a building?”

  “A virtual one. It’s in a nice area, and she can freely expand as she wishes.”

  “Okay, Jackson, I may need to give you a sobriety test.”

  I laugh and reassure him that I’m fine and that I haven’t been drinking.

  “Okay, so tell me about this woman who loves virtual pets and motherhood.”

  I start to tell him about Mia. I didn’t plan to tell him everything, but once I started talking, I couldn’t stop. I didn’t realize just how excited I was about her and the prospect of us. I tell Wyatt all about Aaron and how bright he is and that thanks to him, if a sand tiger shark ever attacks me, I will know exactly what to do. He listens closely; Wyatt is good at that stuff. He says it’s because his wife trained him well.

  “Any woman who can get you to go anywhere educational sounds like a miracle worker,” he quips.

  “Shut up; I’ve gone to places like that on my own.”

  “I don’t think Hooters counts as educational,” he jokes.

  “Whatever, the point is she’s really something.”

  “As I said, Mia sounds great, but that doesn’t do anything for the fact that you still need to talk to someone.”

  “I am. Some guy with like a hundred degrees on his wall.”

  “And are you opening up about the raid to him?”

  I don’t have to reply, Wyatt knows very well that I’m not. He sighs and shakes his head, “Talk to someone, Jackson. If this Mia woman is that wonderful, she can help you...unofficially. Whatever happens, you need to get this out because, believe it or not, Megan isn’t the only one who’s out of control here.”

  ***

  Jackson Hunter seems to be taking up more headspace than I am willing to admit. I find myself thinking about him between sessions and wondering how his day is going. I’m not the only one who thinks about him; Aaron has been asking questions as well. He wants to know how long it took Jackson to become an FBI agent, if Jackson can teach him how to shoot, if he can come to play video games, and if his nephews live nearby. The only one who thinks about Jackson more than Aaron and me is Jackson’s biggest fan, Argo.

  “All I’m saying is that every drop of tea I sipped having to do with Jackson tells me he’s hung like a damn horse,” Argo says from his seat across my desk.

  “You better stop that,” I reply as I try to keep a straight face and bite into my burger.

  “What? Hell, honey, the streets are talking.”

  “Well, stop listening,” I scold.

  “Fine, I will not bring it up anymore. All I’m saying is you best do your stretches.” I throw a fry at him, and he ducks it just in time.

  “So, have you guys been talking at all?” he asks.

  “Yeah, just about every night. He’s seeing a new therapist, so he’s back on active duty. And sometimes it eats up most of his day, but he always manages to check in. That’s kind of nice; you know, that he checks in—not that he has to.” Argo doesn’t say anything but that goofy smile of his is hard to miss.

  “Stop making a big deal out of it, Argo.”

  “Okay, I will stop.”

  “I’m serious. We only had one date. And it was a kid-friendly date.”

  “You’re right. I’m gonna stop,” he says as he takes out his cell and goes online.

  “What are you looking for?” I ask.

  “I’m trying to pick out the best color palette for your wedding. I know everyone says spring, but honey, you don’t know the kind of magic I can work with a fall wedding theme. I mean, Ms. Martha got nothing on me!”

  “Argo!”

  “What?”

  “You said you would stop getting ahead of yourself,” I remind him.

  “Yeah, that’s why I haven’t ordered the cake yet—by the way, we’re going with a pink champagne cake with raspberry mousse topping and vanilla buttercream. It’s a little rich, but hell, we deserve it.”

  “That is not taking it slow,” I point out.

  “Yes it is—I postponed the fitting.”

  “The fitting?!”

  “Yeah, for your dress!”

  “Okay, we are officially getting off the subject of Jackson Hunter.”

  “I’ll get off it when you get off,” he says suggestively.

  I laugh. “You are just the worst!” I reply.

  “Well, I try. How’s Aaron doing?” he asks as he takes a fry from me.

  “He has show-and-tell tomorrow, and he’s super excited about showing off Mr. Henry.”

  “You didn’t tell him about Tom coming? Smart.”

  “Yeah, I figured I will tell him tomorrow morning before school. I talked to Tom on Monday, and everything is set. I’m glad this is happening; I think Aaron really misses having a dad. And it’s nice when Tom comes through.”

  “Speaking of dads…I called mine.”

  I stop just short of taking a bite of my burger. “You called your father?” I ask, shocked. Argo and his dad have been at odds ever since he came out of the closet. His dad thinks being gay is wrong and that, in many ways, he’s lost his only son. Argo acts like he’s accepted it, but there are times when I can tell that it hurts him.

  “What made you call him after all this time? Details!” I push.

  “I talked to my Aunt Sylvia; she’s the Wendy Williams in our family. She knows all the tea. She said she thinks he’s softening up and that I should ask him to come to the graduation.”

  “Did you?”

  “No, not yet. This was just the initial contact,” he says. It’s hard to miss the hope in his voice. I really want this for him. It would mean so much to Argo if his dad were there.

  “What did you two talk about?” I ask.

  “He asked about work, my health, and you. It wasn’t a deep conversation, but it was a start. Right?” he says nervously.

  “Yes! It’s a great start. Just make sure that you two keep it up, stay in touch. Then you can ask him
when you’re ready. The fact that you are both making an effort means you have a real chance at reconnecting.”

  “I always heard that he was proud of me for going into nursing; I just didn’t allow myself to think it could be true. Can you imagine my dad being proud of something I did?”

  “Yes, I can,” I reply as my cell buzzes. I look down at the screen.

  “It’s Jackson; he says we need to talk,” I inform Argo as my heart starts to pound in my chest.

  “What do you think he wants to say?”

  “Well, I’ll find out. He’s downstairs waiting.”

  “Right now?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay—wait!” Argo orders. He quickly fixes my hair, gives me a sip of his mint tea, and makes me reapply my lipstick.

  “Okay, you’re good to go!”

  “Be right back,” I reply while heading down to the lobby. When the elevator door opens, I see him standing there, on high alert.

  “Jackson, is everything okay? I—”

  He rushes inside the elevator, cups my face in his hands, pins me to the wall, and sweeps his tongue across my lips. He moves in a series of graceful, sensual motions. His skilled, agile tongue claims mine, rendering me powerless.

  His eager, demanding mouth ignites an erotic spark that spreads throughout my body. His touch reshapes me, bends my toes, arches my back, and summons a moan from the deepest part of me. “Jackson...”

  He drops his head down to the space between my neck and shoulder and buries his face there. I run my fingers through his hair, and he closes his eyes, lets out a feral growl, and says, “Christ, baby, what are you doing to me?”

  I didn’t plan to go over to her office and kiss her. I just couldn’t stay away from her any longer. So I make my way to her job. And I have to be honest: needing to see her, talk to her, and hold her scares the shit out of me. But it’s easy to see I’m not the only one who is in uncharted territory. We have been talking over the past few days, and from what I can tell, she has made very little time for dating. Most, if not all, of her time is spent working, raising Aaron, and trying to keep up with Argo.

  I wanted to know about Aaron’s dad, but I wasn’t sure if I should bring it up. Thankfully, she mentioned it during one of our late-night conversations. She told me that he wasn’t a bad guy, but he wasn’t cut out to be a dad. She casually mentioned that Tom tended to bail on Aaron. That irritated the shit out of me. I understand having to work and letting your kid down once in a while, but to do it to the point where it’s a foregone conclusion is bullshit.

  I wanted to point out that all the things she’s told me about him don’t add up to her “he’s not a bad guy” theory, but I held back. I got the feeling she was protecting Tom’s image for Aaron’s sake. And I admire her for that. No kid wants to hear someone badmouth their parent, no matter what issues they may have with them.

  It’s been hard to get time off in the past few days, which is why we’ve been forced to speak only on the phone. But weirdly, it’s been kind of nice. We’ve been forced to get to know each other with our clothes on—also a first for me.

  There’s no doubt in my mind that if she were next to me, I’d have to take her. There’s no other option for me. I want her in ways I have never wanted any other woman. So if she were within reach, I’d pull her close, take in her addictive scent, and make her mine.

  From what I understand, my brothers were pretty restrained with their wives for one reason or another. But shit, I’m not like that. The fact is, if Mia is anywhere near me, I’d touch, tease, and taste every inch of her. My fingers would find the way into all her dark, warm spots and explore her until she’s breathless and shivering against me. I’d take my time and stimulate her in ways that would leave her wet and panting. And when I think of the ways I’d like her to touch me, it’s all I can do not to drive over to her place and throw her over my shoulder like a fucking caveman.

  So earlier today, when I went to her office building to kiss her, it was because I couldn’t take being away from her lips for one more second. But as much as I wanted to take her right there in the elevator, I made myself stop. Hardest thing I’ve ever done.

  Mia isn’t just any woman, and more importantly, she’s a mom. That complicates things for her because she can’t just jump in. She has to think of her son and what’s best for him. I get that. That’s why I don’t just pop up in the middle of the night. But God, it’s hard—literally. I’m hard every fucking night just from hearing her voice on the phone.

  It’s not just physical attraction with her. I love hearing about her past, the best days of her life and the hardest. They usually involve Aaron. She says she can’t recall life without her son. But I’ve spoken to Argo, and he assures me that while she has a hard time recalling the wild times, he remembers everything. I asked her if that woman is still in there. She said that if I worked hard, she might bring a little of that woman back. Shit, I’ll do whatever it takes to get a peek at her wilder side.

  I wish I could say that having Mia in my life keeps the nightmares at bay, but it doesn’t. The good thing is that they don’t come as often as they did before. But when they do appear, sleep eludes me for the rest of the night. And even when I am awake, I can hear Megan begging me to help Agent Green. She’s shouting at me, asking how I could be so cold and heartless.

  I sit up in bed and firmly dip my fingers into my shoulder muscles. I try to massage the stress away. I want to call Mia—badly. But it’s just after midnight, and I don’t want to wake her. Although hearing her voice would do wonders for me, I refrain from calling.

  There is one thing I can focus on that might make the rest of the night bearable: the kiss. Damn, her lips felt so good, it could actually be a drug. I lie back down on the bed, hoping the nightmares will take a back seat to the kiss. They do. And as I drift off to sleep again, all I can think about is the woman whose kiss is saving me.

  ***

  Have you ever had a day where something wonderful happens only to have something awful happen a few hours later? Well, that’s the kind of day I’m having. After lunch with Argo and the first kiss to end all first kisses, I went back to work. Then about an hour later, I get a call from Aaron’s school telling me that he’s been sent to the principal’s office for fighting.

  Aaron isn’t perfect, but he doesn’t get into fights, and he certainly doesn’t start them. When I get to school, his teacher tells me that he pushed a kid in his class named Charles. When asked why he pushed him, Aaron just shrugged his shoulders. His teacher told me since she normally doesn’t have an issue with him that there would be no need for further action. She did, however, make him apologize to Charles and he was made to skip recess.

  On our way home, I struggled to figure out exactly how I was going to handle it. I have no issue putting him on punishment, but we always talk about what he did wrong so he knows why he’s being punished. This time, I don’t know why he did what he did, so it’s not as easy to discuss.

  Now we’re seated at the dinner table, where he hardly touches his food. I make him take a few bites so I know he has something in his stomach. He does his homework and tries to watch TV.

  “No TV, games, or electronics of any kind. You are on punishment for the rest of the month,” I reply. He turns the TV off and heads towards his room. I give him time to brush his teeth and then I enter his room hoping I can get the full story when I tuck him in.

  “Did you feed Mr. Henry?” I ask.

  “Yeah,” he says in a small voice as he gets under the covers.

  “Good. And you brushed your teeth well—not just the front, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay,” I reply as I sit on the bed beside him. “I’m disappointed in the choices you made today, Aaron.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you know better than to hit people. Don’t you?”

  “Yeah, but Charles made me mad.”

  “Sometimes people make me mad too. Sometimes I want to yell, kic
k, and stomp up and down. Sometimes I want to throw stuff.”

  “You do?”

  “Yeah, sometimes. But do you know why I don’t do that?”

  “Why?”

  “Because mad is not forever. But the way you react when you are mad, that can last a long time. You remember when you wanted to play with your PlayStation, and I said no because it was time for bed?”

  “Yeah, but I wanted to play really badly.”

  “Yes, and you got mad because I didn’t let you play. What did you do because you were mad?”

  “I kicked the PlayStation hard, and it fell off the table.”

  “That was two months ago. Now, are you still mad at me for making you go to bed?”

  “No.”

  “But your PlayStation is still broken, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah. You said you won’t get me a new one until my birthday.”

  “That’s right. You were mad, and so you reacted in a bad way. Now you’re not mad, but because you didn’t react in a good way, you still have to deal with your bad reaction—your game is broken. Do you think pushing Charles was a good or bad way to react to being mad?”

  “Bad, I guess.”

  “Have I ever pushed you?”

  “No.”

  “Have you ever seen Argo push me?”

  “No.”

  “Do you see people just walking around pushing other people when they want?”

  “No.”

  “Why do you think that is?”

  “It’s bad.”

  “Yes, it’s a bad reaction. Now, one more time, pushing Charles—was that a good reaction or a bad one?”

  “A bad one.”

  “Do you think you could have made a better choice?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Like what?”

  “Tell a teacher he was bothering me.”

  “That would have been much better. Anything else?”

  “Walk away.”

  “That’s another good one.”

  “But Mom, what if he hurts my feelings—a lot?”

  “Sometimes people will hurt your feelings, and it’s not fair. Not everything in this world is fair. And if someone hurts you, it’s okay to be sad and even mad. When that happens, you can always talk to me or Argo or your friends. You do not hit, push, or put your hands on anyone. That is unacceptable. Do you understand?”