Anything For Them

by Lola StVil

  “Are you serious? What happened to the guy?” I ask.

  “Oh, he grew up to be a fine young man. He still writes,” she says. Wyatt rolls his eyes.

  “My point is my mom gave as good as she got. When I came home drunk for the first time in my life, she removed every piece of furniture from my room,” Jackson adds.

  “That’s right. I told you to stay away from drinking. Beds are for boys who listen,” she playfully scolds. She turns her attention over to me. “And Mia, I meant to tell you this earlier; you really should be careful about consorting with strangers,” she pointedly says as she looks at Jackson.

  “Sorry, Mrs. Hunter, he just followed me inside,” I joke. Jackson groans and rolls his eyes at me.

  “He does look a little like my son Jackson. But he’d never show his face after writing me out of his life.”

  “I didn’t write you out; I was busy,” Jackson says, bemused.

  “Oh, well I understand that,” his mother replies. “I was busy once too—giving birth to you. Sacrificing my waistline.” Jackson groans louder. His mom turns to me and whispers just loud enough for him to hear, “I hope one day Aaron doesn’t discard you like one of my former sons…now, what was his name, Jason? Johnson? Joe?” Jackson laughs and goes over to her. He places his arms around her neck and pleads for her forgiveness.

  “Perhaps,” she teases.

  “Alright, woman, what do you want to get me off your hit list?” Jackson says.

  “I get whatever I want?” she asks.

  “Yes, whatever you want,” he says. The brothers are already shaking their heads, knowing that their mom is up to something.

  “Bachelor. Auction.”

  The brothers burst out laughing. The women explain that their mom has an auction for charity every year and that the brothers hate it because the women are feisty old ladies who have no shame or issue with grabbing and tearing the bachelors' clothes off. In fact, the brothers would rather face armed gunmen than the crowd of old ladies at the auction.

  “No; not gonna happen,” Jackson says.

  “Okay…” his mom says simply. And although she doesn’t speak, her silence is loud.

  “I can’t do it, Mom. I have a girl now, and she’d be really offended, right baby?” Jackson says.

  “What’s the charity?” I ask.

  “Really?” Jackson mutters under his breath.

  “Wounded Warriors” she says.

  I look over at Jackson. “Honey, it’s for wounded vets…”

  “Okay, you and I are on a break, Mia. Seriously. I don’t think it’s gonna work,” Jackson jokes.

  His brothers laugh at him. Then from the corner of my eye, I see Winter and Shay whispering to each other. I know something’s up.

  Then Shay nonchalantly says, “You know what would make the auction really successful this year? A swimsuit portion.”

  “NOOOOOOO!” Jackson begs. We all laugh as he buries his head on my chest in sheer agony.

  Soon the staff has everything all set up; we thank them and call the kids to come eat. Aaron and the other boys are in the middle of a friendly, but serious debate about who is the strongest X-Man. Add to that the fact that he has shark-shaped grilled cheese on his plate, and my son is in heaven.

  I can’t believe I was worried about these people. They are so nice and easygoing. I feel as if I’ve been a part of their family for years. Jackson places his hand on mine under the table and then whispers, “You okay, baby?”

  I look into his eyes and reply, “No, I’m more than okay. I’m happy.”

  One of the staff members enters the room and hands Mrs. Hunter a small long box.

  “Mom, what is that?” Wyatt asks.

  “Oh, it’s not for me; it’s for Mia. I’m guessing Jackson got her something.”

  I look over at Jackson. “Did you?” I ask as I open the box.

  Jackson shrugs and says, “No. I didn’t get you anything.”

  “Liar,” I tease as I open the box.

  It’s a black rose.

  The color drains from my face. I’m shivering, and I can’t think. I can’t think. I hear Jackson off in the distance asking what’s wrong. I can’t reply. I don’t remember how to talk.

  Is he out there? Is he looking for me? Is he already inside? Should I take Aaron and run? Is it too late?

  “Mia, what is it? What’s wrong, baby?” Jackson begs. The entire mood of the table has shifted. Everyone is concerned and on high alert. My cell rings. I don’t want to pick it up, but I have to know; I have to know if it’s really him on the other end.

  “Hello?” I say into the phone in a weak whisper.

  “You made me do this. Don’t forget that,” Gorman says; then, without any further warning, a loud, earsplitting “pop” sound shakes the whole house. Something explodes into a fireball, just outside.

  The room that once held lighthearted, carefree guys now holds a room full of armed, vigilant, pissed-off cops. All five of them are suddenly armed, including their dad. And all of them are ready.

  They push the women and children out of the way and order us to take cover. All five of them go outside. Jackson orders his mom to take the kids to the panic room. Mrs. Hunter does as instructed. Aaron calls out to me, and I tell him it’s okay, go with Mrs. Hunter. Jackson is the first to come back; his face is dark with anger. He addresses me not as my boyfriend, but as a no-nonsense special agent in the FBI.

  “Someone just blew up your car. Mia, what the fuck is going on?”

  Now that we have looked around the area and confirmed whoever did this is gone, and everyone is safe, my focus changes. It’s all on Mia. I make my way toward her, but Logan comes between us. He knows just how pissed and enraged I am because he’s been there. So, he makes sure to position his body between us so that I would have to go through him to talk to Mia. He speaks to me in a low, deep voice that makes him sound more like the SWAT leader he is rather than my brother.

  “Hey, not now. You have questions. I get that. But not here. And not now,” he commands.

  I look over his shoulder and into Mia’s frightened eyes. Logan’s right. This is not the time. I try to handle this like a routine case. It helps me to focus on procedure and method. The house floods with different branches of law enforcement and emergency personnel. Wyatt and I handle them while my other brothers try to keep all the kids calm.

  Aaron is calling out for his mom and me. Mia and I exchange a look and tend to Aaron. At first, he’s scared because he has no idea what happened, but we explain that it was an accident and that no one was hurt. Soon, Aaron and the other kids are asking their parents if they can go see the burned car and take pictures because it’s cool. They go over the story, and each time, add their own drastic take on it. I have a feeling this story will be making the rounds at school. Once we are all satisfied that Aaron and the other kids are okay, I go over to Mia.

  “Outside, now.”

  We walk out the door and onto the street. But I don’t want to talk anywhere near the house and chance Aaron overhearing us, or anyone else for that matter. We walk about a block down in silence. When I finally stop walking and confront her, my anger hasn’t diminished at all.

  “Mia, what is going on—and please try really hard not to lie to me this time.”

  “I have a stalker; his name is Gorman. He’s after me. He has been for a long time.”

  “ARGH! How could you do this? How could you keep this from me?” I demand.

  “I was going to tell you.”

  “When were you going to tell me? Before or after Argo and I had to ID your corpse?” I reply as my heart pounds inside my chest. I can feel her anxiety from where I stand. But I don’t care; she fucking needs to hear this.

  “I asked you straight out if someone was after you, and you lied to me!” I bark.

  “I had to.”

  “No, you didn’t have to. You chose to.”

  “Jackson, I needed to keep you out of this.”

  I laugh b
itterly and look up at the sky. “Oh my God, you don’t get it, do you? I am already in this. We’re together, Mia. Someone has been after you for only God knows how long, and instead of allowing me to protect you, you lie to me. You keep me in the dark. That makes no sense.”

  “I wanted to handle things myself. You don’t deserve to be pulled into this.”

  “No, what I don’t deserve is to be lied to by the woman I love. I have done everything I can to make you a part of my life, and then you do this?” I rake my hands through my hair so hard I damn near rip the roots out. The rage that’s flowing through me is unlike anything I’ve experienced. She takes a step towards me, and I back away from her.

  “Jackson, I know it was wrong to wait so long to tell you, but I—”

  “You didn’t tell me, so stop making it sound like you told me something later than you should have. The fact is you didn’t tell me anything. I had no idea what was going on. We talked day in and day out. And you never said a word. Do you have any idea what could have happened?”

  “I know how bad this could have been. I do. Look, it’s not always easy to open up to someone.”

  “Oh really, Doc? It’s not easy? Because you have made a career out of getting people to talk to you. But now that it was your turn to be open you bailed.”

  “I know...”

  “What made you think it was okay to keep this from me?” I bark.

  “I was trying to protect you from this situation.”

  “You didn’t think I could handle one guy? Are you kidding me?”

  “It’s not about that. You don’t know Gorman; he’s not right in the head. I had to do drastic things to get out from under him. I even changed my name and—”

  “Wait, your name? You’re not Mia Samuels?” I ask, beside myself.

  “No.”

  I laugh sardonically, place my hands on the back of my neck, and let the weight of my stress pull my head down. What the fuck is happening right now? I feel like a fucking idiot.

  “Look, I’m sorry, but I had to protect Aaron and—”

  “No, don’t do that! Don’t bring Aaron into this. This is about you and me. You kept me out of this because you still think you have to be a one-woman army. You don’t trust that I will have your back. You think I will bail on you like Tom.”

  “That’s not true! Jackson, I should have opened up to you, but it’s just not easy to let someone in.”

  “And that’s what I am to you, just ‘someone’?”

  “No; that’s not what I meant.”

  “I poured my heart out to you. I told you how much of my soul death has taken. I told you about Rose, and Green, and how fucking awful it is to lose the people that I love. And you sat there in mortal danger the whole time, and didn’t say shit to me.”

  “It was my problem, not yours. And I wanted to fix it.”

  “I HAD A RIGHT TO KNOW!” I yell. She jumps when my voice booms and fills the street.

  “Jackson, forgive me.”

  “You and Aaron could have died tonight. You and that little boy are my whole fucking world, and that could have been taken away tonight. All because you wouldn’t come to me. How do I forgive that?” I shake my head angrily and start to walk off.

  She reaches out and latches both hands onto my forearm. “Jackson, don’t go. Let’s talk. We love each other.”

  I shake my head in disbelief and pull away. “Love? Mia, I don’t even know your name…”

  ***

  I didn’t plan to walk for as long as I did. But I was so lost in thought that I walked for about two miles. I end up at my dad’s favorite donut shop. I walk in and order a cup of black coffee. It’s a good thing they don’t serve alcohol. I’m not sure how far down that rabbit hole I would go tonight.

  When my dad walks in, I can’t say I’m all that surprised to see him. He comes here often after he lies to my mom about where he’s headed. She knows he’s lying, and I overheard her say once, “Men can’t keep secrets from women. But a nice woman will play along so he believes he has some.”

  Dad takes a seat at the counter next to me and orders us two donuts each and more coffee.

  “I’ll have two glazed, and my son here, he’ll have the chocolate cream,” Dad tells the owner. The man takes the donuts down from the tray and places them on plates in front of us.

  “I’m not hungry, Dad. And even if I was, I don’t like chocolate cream.”

  “Well, I’m your father, and I love you. If that means I have to help you finish off two donuts, then I will be strong and do my part.” I smile despite myself. It’s a small smile, one that fades quickly.

  “Are they okay?” I ask.

  “Aaron and the other boys were still excited about seeing the ball of fire. They are in the game room reenacting what they would have done if they were caught in that situation if it were a movie and they were the heroes. The ‘heroes’ ate a dozen hot dogs, and when I left, they were finishing off a bag of chips. Your mother made us bring them sleeping bags, so now it’s officially a sleepover.”

  “I’m glad he’s okay. He’s a good kid,” I reply as I take a sip of my black coffee.

  “And what about her? You didn’t ask if she’s okay,” Dad says as he takes a bite of his donut. I fake indifference, shrug my shoulders, and look away. He laughs at me.

  “What’s so funny?” I ask.

  “It’s all you can do to stay in that chair; you love her so much. You can’t hide that from me.”

  “Yeah, well…is she okay?” I ask again.

  “Yes, son, she’s okay. But she’s scared of this guy and what he might do. And she’s worried that you won’t ever forgive her.”

  “She should have talked to me.”

  “She’s stubborn. You were the same way when you were a kid—stubborn to the damn bone.”

  “That’s not the way I remember it.”

  “The hell you don’t. Remember when you and Logan kept running up and down the staircase chasing each other? I said if you two don’t stop, there won’t be any camping for the rest of the summer. You two didn’t listen. Logan ran up the staircase, and you ran after him, fell, and dislocated your shoulder.

  “I swear to God I could hear that thing pop out of place. I ran over to you, sure that you’d be crying bloody murder. But no, you tried to keep a straight face, all because you wanted to go camping. I told you, ‘Son, you’re hurt. You need a doctor.’ And what did you do?” he asks.

  “I asked what time we were heading out to the camping trip,” I reply.

  “And while you were doing that, tears were running down your face. You were in so much damn pain, but you wanted to pretend like it didn’t hurt. You and that woman you love are the same. Both of you think that there’s strength in standing alone and pretending you are okay. But you got it wrong. Strong people admit when they hurt.”

  “Why didn’t she come to me? I would have helped her.”

  “Like you’re helping her right now?” he pointedly says.

  I lower my head, and he pats my back and speaks earnestly. “Jackson, she fell. She’s hurt. She needs you. Get over your anger; get over your pride. The woman you love is in danger, the kind of danger that could take her away from you forever. So suck that shit up and be the man I raised you to be.”

  He’s right. He knows that. He polishes off his donuts and “helps” me with mine. I place a few bucks on the counter and thank him for his advice.

  “Advice? I’m your damn father; this isn’t advice,” he says in a gruff voice. “It’s an order. Go fix this. Now.”

  “Okay, Dad, I’m on it.”

  Just as I head out the door he says, “Hey, son, let’s not tell your mom about this little talk taking place at a donut shop. We met up at the bar down the street.”

  “Where you had a sensible salad?”

  “With a light dressing.”

  I laugh. “You got it, Dad. And thanks.”

  “And Jackson, you make things right with my future daughter-in-law. You
hear me?”

  “Yeah, Dad, I hear you.”

  ***

  I take my dad’s car back, that way he has to walk off the donuts and I won’t feel bad about having to lie to Mom about what he ate. When I pull up to the front of the house, things are very still and quiet. All the cop cars and law enforcement are gone. She’s standing on the front porch with her arms folded across her chest. I can see the worry in her eyes from here. My chest tightens as I gaze on her small frame. I can’t believe how much I love this woman.

  “Hey,” I whisper as I come up to her.

  “Mia Avery. That’s my name. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she says as tears spill down her face.

  “I know, baby,” I reply as I hold her in my arms. “We’ll figure this out,” I promise her.

  She pulls away. “You sure you want to be involved? I mean, you want to know the whole story?”

  “You’re my family. And so is Aaron. It’s my story too now.”

  “Okay, I…I’m not sure where to start.”

  “Well, let’s start with a change of venue. Someone told me that could help,” I reply, referencing her advice to me when I was trying to come clean about the raid.

  “You want to go somewhere? I guess we can. Aaron and the others fell asleep a little while ago,” she says.

  “Let’s go to my house.”

  “Is Aaron gonna be okay here? I mean if he wakes up…”

  “He’s safe here. You know that, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  “We’ll pick him up first thing in the morning. We really need to talk—alone.”

  “You’re right. I’m gonna check in with your mom and officially ask her, and then look in on Aaron. Be right back,” she says as she runs back inside. Soon we are in my car and headed home for the most overdue conversation in the world.

  When we get to my place, I make her some tea, and we settle in. The woman sitting on the sofa isn’t the Mia I know. I have never seen that much fear in her eyes. That woman, who laughed often and moved about the world with ease, has retreated into a shy, uncertain creature. Even before she tells me her story, I am pissed off by whoever has made my woman so damn fearful. And just before she begins, I have to remind my anger to take a back seat to her needs.