Young Love

by Alyson Santos

  Tears stream down my face as I watch Jace try to push himself up from the stoop.

  She doesn’t move. Doesn’t say a word. Just watches his arms give out. I bend down to help him as gently as I can. His face is a mess. He winces from my grip around his chest. I don’t want to see what’s under his shirt.

  “Please don’t hurt him,” he says to Louis. “Don’t let him hurt him,” he directs to his mother. “Mom! Look at me. Please.”

  Louis blocks her from view, knuckles white on the edge of the door. “My family. Not yours,” he hisses, and slams the door.

  I help Jace into the passenger seat of the truck.

  “I’m taking you to the E.R.,” I say, starting the truck.

  “No.” He reaches for my arm to stop me.

  “Jace, you need medical attention.”

  He shakes his head. “I’ll get a lot more than medical attention. Just take me home.”

  “But if we go we can report him and get Aiden taken away.”

  “And then what? They’re going to give custody to his unemployed, homeless, convict brother?”

  My hand drops from the wheel, engine idling with indecision. I hate that he’s right. I hate justice when it’s so unjust. “Okay, but what if he goes after Aiden?”

  “He won’t.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “He just won’t.”

  God, he’s so sure of that. How many times, Jace? How many!

  I don’t need to know that number to despise it.

  “I know how to take a punch,” he says quietly. “Part of my training. I’ll be fine.”

  “Yeah, you look fine,” I mutter.

  “It’s all superficial.”

  I shake my head. Helpless as I study the new imperfections on his face. Blood seeps from a cut on his lip, more drips in macabre streaks from welts on his face. And suddenly, I’m pissed. A deep rage rushes through me at the injustice. Jace facing charges for one well-earned punch, while that bastard gets to sit by his pool after an all-out assault? No, there has to be another way.

  A gentle squeeze on my thigh draws me from my thoughts. “Please just take me home,” he says.

  I sigh and put the truck in gear.

  Back at the house, I gather all the first aid supplies I can find. Jace sits obediently on the stool in the kitchen and helps me peel off his shirt. A gasp escapes me before I can stop it, and he doesn’t look at me.

  I fight back my tears. Soaking a cloth, I do my best to clear the blood, before cleaning the wounds. He flinches a few times but doesn’t make so much as a sound the entire time I work on him. Another part of his training? Probably. Probably also years of adjustment to absorbing other people’s pain. How many times? There’s a number there screaming at me, ready to destroy my heart. I can’t ask.

  Once I’m satisfied with my efforts, I help him to the couch and adjust icepacks on the worst of the swelling. He assures me again he’ll be fine, and I pretend again to believe him. I leave water, snacks, and the remote nearby before telling him I’ll be right back.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I just need to run an errand.”

  “Sienna…”

  “Jace, you asked me to trust you on the way you’re handling this. I’m asking you to trust me.”

  He draws in a painful breath and nods. “Okay. Be careful.”

  I force a smile and kiss his forehead before grabbing my keys.

  At Joe’s house, I pull into the driveway, slamming on my breaks and leaving my car parked at an awkward angle. Stomping to the door, I thunder a knock and wait.

  A petite woman, heavily pregnant, answers and gasps.

  “Sienna.”

  “Hi, Marjorie. Is Joe around?”

  “Um… yeah. He’s up working in the baby’s room. One sec.”

  I nod, trying to preserve every ounce of the determination that brought me here.

  A minute later, the second biggest asshole on the planet stands before me. “Surprised to see you. How can I help?” he asks. There’s nothing polite about his pleasantries.

  “We need to talk.”

  He frowns, his grip on the door tightening. Finally, he glances back at his girlfriend and waves me toward the chairs on the porch. I sit. Wait as he closes the door and joins me.

  “I won’t play games,” I begin. “What will it take for you to drop the charges against Jace?”

  He snickers and crosses his arms. “That’s why you came? Come on, Sienna. You know that’s not happening.”

  A growl erupts from my throat, and Joe straightens. He’s never met the new predator inside me. “Cut the shit. This is about you and me, not Jace, so what will it take?”

  “Nothing. I told you, your loose cannon boyfriend is seeing the inside of a jail cell.”

  “He’s not a loose cannon,” I snap. I can’t think of a label less suited for my man.

  “Right.” He turns his head to display a barely visible mark on his jaw. Maybe I roll my eyes thinking about what Jace looks like on my couch.

  “I see you’re recovering nicely. Physical therapy going well?”

  Rein it in, Sienna. You need him.

  “Why are you here?”

  “I told you. Let’s work this out—without the law.”

  He barks a laugh. “Funny. You seemed more than happy with the law during the divorce proceedings.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Oh come on, Sienna.” Eyes blazing, arms crossed, my ex transforms into the man I remember at the arbitration table. “You and your lawyer fucking rob me blind, and I’m the bad guy?”

  “Rob you blind? You didn’t even want the house. You hated it!”

  “I’m not talking about the damn house.” He shakes his head, and I draw in a deep breath.

  Old patterns will not help me get new results.

  “Then what are you talking about?” I say, voice steady.

  “Uh, how about the fact that I’m trying to start a family on pennies because my entire fucking paycheck goes to you?”

  I still, watch the anger burn over his face. Is this why he’s been a freaking monster lately?

  “God, Sienna. You don’t even need the money. You make plenty with your consulting shit. You were just pissed over the Marjorie thing and took it because you could.”

  My heart pounds as he studies me, huge numbers suddenly clouding my head. He makes good money, really good, which is why I never felt badly about taking what I was owed.

  Or meting out his punishment?

  Yes, I was angry. Maybe I did want every damn cent he had for cheating on me and pursuing the one thing I could never give him.

  And now?

  There’s Jace. Numbers mean nothing compared to him.

  I soften my stance, remembering how Jace handles Louis when he needs to win. “Please, Joe. There’s more at stake than you could ever imagine. Is that what it’ll take? Lowering my alimony claim?”

  Pulse racing, I wait while suspicious eyes evaluate me.

  “You can’t be serious.”

  “No, Joe—I really am.”

  “Yeah?” He huffs out a breath. “What’s your offer then?”

  “What do you want?”

  The look on his face… I can’t believe I found this man attractive. “All of it.”

  My stomach turns over, stutters a protest until my mind darts back to images of a bloody warrior on my couch.

  “Seventy-five percent.”

  Joe shakes his head. “All of it.”

  I close my eyes. What would Jace do for me? I’ve already seen that answer. Everything. He gives up all of it.

  “Okay.”

  His eyes widen, then narrow. “Seriously? Just like that you’d drop your entire claim?”

  I nod. “You drop your charges against Jace, and I’ll sign a modification agreement.”

  He leans back, arms still crossed, considering the reality of my offer.

  “I’m serious, Joe. Let’s end this. Clean break.
You enjoy your new life, and I’ll enjoy mine.”

  Still, he hesitates, and I can’t breathe. Jace’s future hangs right there between us. I almost see it rocking on the edge of tragedy, but I’ve played my only card. Please let it be enough.

  Finally, his eyes lock back on mine. “When I hear from your lawyer, you’ll hear from mine.”

  Air rushes back into my lungs. “Do you swear?”

  “You implying I’m a liar?”

  I know you’re a liar. “No. I meant, do we have a deal?”

  He clears his throat and watches me closely for another moment. Then holds out his hand. “Deal.”

  A huge weight lifts from my shoulders as I take it.

  Chapter 0 – 15 = -15

  Jace answers on the second ring. “My lawyer,” he says, and I secure my poise with a nod.

  His brow knits, eyes focused on something unseen as he listens. I can’t make out Mary’s words, nor can I read them on his face. Could this be it? Please be it.

  “I don’t understand… okay, yes, but… how? Just like that?”

  A dark shadow lifts from his face. Thank god!

  “Okay, thanks for the update. Really, this is huge.”

  He hangs up and lowers his phone, a smile slipping onto his lips. “Your ex is dropping the charges.”

  “Are you serious?” Orchestrated or not, my relief is real. Up until this moment I’m not sure I believed Joe would follow through.

  “Yeah. Can you believe it?” He shakes his head. “I guess I’m not used to things going my way.” His dry chuckle tugs at something inside me, and I can’t risk ruining the news by admitting my role. Besides, sitting here, enjoying the look on his beautiful face, I realize I didn’t do it just for him anyway.

  “That’s amazing. I’m so happy.” I slip my arms around his neck and rest against his chest. “Hey! Maybe now that the charges are dropped we can talk to Mary about finding a way to get Aiden back.”

  I pull back at his sigh and watch his expression fall. Crap. Something dark works through his mind, and I regret pushing so soon. Relegated to a spectator again, I study the yellow and brown remnants of bruises.

  You did this, Sienna.

  I suck in a breath. No, you both did this. Joe did this. Louis did this.

  “Jace, what is it?”

  He shakes his head, staring into his coffee cup for another moment, then looks up. “I don’t have a job, Sienna. I have no money—hell, I don’t even have my own place. No way they’ll take a kid from his mother and give him to me.”

  My heart lurches. How much volatility can one organ take? “Okay, well maybe not right away but we can work on a plan.”

  His nod means nothing with the look in his eyes. “Sure.” A heavy breath deflates his chest. “I fucked up, Sienna. You know if the charges stuck, I probably would’ve lost my spot at CBMA?”

  “Your karate school?”

  He nods. “Character and discipline are a huge part of the program, especially for instructors. There’s no way they would’ve let me work with kids with an assault record. Nor should they.”

  I take his hand and soothe his fingers from a fist. “But you don’t have a record, and you can go on doing what you love.”

  “It’ll be the only time I get to see Aidan now,” he says quietly.

  “We’re going to figure this out.” I swallow my emotion; even I don’t believe my words.

  “Shit.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I’ve done everything I could since Dad died. Why wasn’t it enough?”

  “Because sometimes the math is wrong. The equations don’t balance.”

  His weak smile guts me further. “You and your numbers.”

  “Hey, I’m admitting they lie.”

  “They do,” he sighs out.

  My phone buzzes, and I glance down to read a text from Karen. “Crap, she wants to hang out.” We barely even talk anymore.

  “Karen?”

  I nod.

  “Huh.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “You’re still trying with her?”

  I tense, not interested in this discussion again. “I know you don’t like her, but she’s been my friend for years.”

  “I would agree that she’s used you for years.”

  “It’s hard being single at our age. And now I have you and—”

  “She hates you.”

  “She doesn’t hate me. It has to be difficult for her to see us so happy. She’s probably right. Since I met you, I haven’t made as much time for her.”

  He shrugs. “Okay. You should go then.”

  He seems to mean it, so why isn’t this sitting well with me? “I feel bad leaving you right now.”

  “Please. You spend enough time worrying about my problems.”

  “But with everything going on, I shouldn’t go out.”

  “Stop with the shoulds. I’ll be fine.”

  His smile is tired like always these days. Forced and extracted for my benefit. There’s so much more to say as I watch him struggle under the weight of his broken world. So much I know about him, and yet so little. I can’t stand the walls anymore.

  “Why don’t you like birthdays?”

  He looks up, clearly caught off guard. “Aren’t you going to meet Karen?”

  “Not until seven.” I take his hand, entwining our fingers. “I love you and I want to know you. Even the hard parts.”

  “Random.”

  “Not really. It’s a pretty big question I’ve let slide for a while.”

  His chest inflates with a deep inhale as he absently traces a design on his mug. “I shared my birthday with my father,” he says finally. “My real father.” His eyes lift to mine. Full of pain they search me, beg me not to press for more. But I sense we’re on the precipice of the right cliff at the right time for once.

  “So your birthday reminds you of him and his death.”

  He nods. I don’t let him pull his hand away.

  “How did he die?”

  “Heart attack.”

  His eyes turn to glass as his other hand instinctively moves to the pick around his neck. He pulls it out from under his shirt, and I let go of his hand so he can examine it.

  “Is he the one who gave you that necklace?”

  “No. He didn’t give me the necklace.”

  “Who did?”

  “No one. I made it.”

  I swallow a sudden burn in my throat. “Jace, was your father a musician?”

  His eyes close, forcing a tear down his cheek. One tear. Who cries one tear? Someone who’s not allowed to cry. Someone who takes on everyone else’s is who.

  He nods and lets me in again. This time when he looks at me, I can’t stop my own pain from spilling out. I don’t understand how one person can handle so much and still fight. Still believe. Still hope and inspire others to do the same. What do I want? To make him happy and prevent anything else from ever touching him again.

  “That was his?” I guess.

  “We were playing the night he died. He wanted to start writing together. I don’t know—I thought…” He pulls in a deep breath. “It just helps to keep it close. He used to say, music is for the heart, not the ears.” He swats at his eyes and straightens. “Anyway, after he died, my mom totally lost her shit. She’d disappear for days, weeks at a time. So at seventeen I basically became a parent to my baby brother. I dropped out of school to work and take care of Aiden. And my mom when she was around.”

  He lets out a laugh. “You know, she said she was doing us a favor by marrying Louis? Believed it too. He was clearly a controlling asshole, and I begged her not to. But no, ‘Aiden needs a father’ she said. What a joke. She blew everything Dad had left us and needed someone else to take care of her. She’ll do anything to remain in her fantasy.”

  I reflect on that first conversation with Candice by the pool. Was that a woman living in her own fantasy? Not even. That was two different women living in their own fantasies. “She changed abruptly right in front
of me. Also, it was like she didn’t even know her husband when she talked about him. She didn’t know what he did to you.”

  Jace nods and leans back. “These last few months have been bad. Sometimes it seems like she’s totally broken with reality. She knows—hell, she’s seen him come after me—but it’s like she rewrites it all in her head or something. She just shuts down and disappears right in front of you.”

  He sighs. “She needs help, but I don’t know how to get it for her. He likes things this way for some twisted reason, and I have to be careful of rocking the boat for Aiden’s sake. I wanted to get him to safety, so I was treading lightly.” His gaze drops to the table. “Well, that was the plan. Now who the hell knows?”

  “We’ll get him back.”

  “Yeah? How?”

  Exactly, Sienna.

  We sit in silence for several moments. Me, trying to process everything. Him, I have no idea.

  “So your father was a musician?” I repeat into the void.

  “My father was Les Beckett. Songwriter for Winter and Rain.”

  “Wait, the band that did ‘Interview with the Sun’?”

  He nods. “That’s his song, yeah. And a few others.”

  “Your tattoo,” I whisper.

  His fingers wrap around the guitar pick again. “I told you, we all get trapped by assumptions.” His gaze locks on me. “We live under the weight of lies we tell ourselves and that are forced on us. You’re the lucky one. You have the power to amend your lies, change them into whatever story you want to live. You don’t have to be in a prison if you don’t want to. All you have to do is be brave enough to do it.”

  I stare into the wise eyes of a twenty-four-year-old.

  “You should go if you’re going to meet Karen by seven.”

  “Come with me.” I can’t conceive of a minute away from him right now.

  He smiles. “Really? You want your boyfriend tagging along on girls’ night?”

  “I want my boyfriend tagging along everywhere I go.”

  “Really. Hmm.” He pushes his chair back to accommodate me on his lap. I straddle him and push my hands into his hair. His eyes tease as he waits for me to use him in whatever way I had in mind. He’s already hard and pressing against me. Karen who?