by Bijou Hunter
“I do.”
“And you’ll still fuck up sometimes, Bubba. Don’t get so focused on not fucking up that you don’t do anything at all.”
“Like how I was when I first became president?”
“Exactly,” Pop says and sips his coffee. His calm infects me, and I want to settle down too. “All your life, you only heard about your uncles’ success or how great your grandfather was, but they fucked up too. No one talks about that crap, but it happened because it happens to everyone. The difference is they didn’t stop when they failed. They adjusted and kept going. That’s why they found success. That’ll all you need to do with Soso and as president.”
“What if I can’t give her everything she needs?”
“Bubba, I see in your eyes how you want me to promise you that everything will work out. But you didn’t call your mom despite knowing she would have promised. You called me because you wanted to hear it straight.”
“Soso is the best thing I’ve ever known,” I say, tensing again. “If I lose her, I’m not sure how I keep going.”
“Stop thinking about what happens if you fail. Just focus on getting through this single day. Help her with what she fears today. Then tomorrow, you work on tomorrow’s fears. Every day will be different, and you’ll take them as they come. Then one day, you’ll either be back in a good place or you won’t, but you’ll know you did everything you could.”
Nodding, I realize I needed to hear the truth. I wanted to know if Soso can’t love me in the same way and returns to Hickory Creek that I’ll survive. I’ll go on, and it won’t kill me.
Once I face my biggest fear of losing Soso’s love, I can see more clearly. I know she won’t leave me, and I know I’ll never walk away. I just needed to know I could survive if she left me. For years, the fear of failing as president kept me from being president. Soso built me up to face that, but she’s in no condition to be my cheerleader today.
Pop gave me the straight truth. My honeymoon period with Soso is over. I can’t run from our fears. I’ll probably do the wrong thing more than once, but better men than me have fucked up and fixed things. I’ll manage because Soso needs me to be strong, and I need her to feel confident again.
THE BOHEMIAN
Bubba wants away from me. He doesn’t say that, of course, but he’s hit a limit on the amount of drama he can process. That’s why he ditches me at Sissy’s Victorian townhome. He claims he needs to work, but I know he’s lying.
I sit on the pale blue couch in the pastel living room and feel like I’m at Disney World. Everything is festive and kid-friendly. Well, not the brown monstrosity Sissy bought for Butch. Otherwise, the house feels decorated using only cotton candy colors.
From the room entry, Hart stares at me. I try not to feel self-conscious, but I know I look like shit. My eyes are swollen and bruised. My nose is twice it’s normal size. My upper lip is huge. Griff’s giant hand managed to nail me square in the middle of my face.
“It’s okay, baby,” Sissy says, picking up Hart when he starts crying.
Haydee climbs on the couch next to me. “Mama got beat up in Ellsberg. Our grandpa was bad. He’s dead now.”
“I’m glad he’s dead.”
“Me too,” Haydee says, leaning closer. “Does it hurt?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want medicine?”
“No, thank you.”
Haydee looks at where her mother and brother now sit on the floor with Freki. My dog distracts Hart from his tears.
“Dad says we can have a cat soon.”
Despite how much it’ll hurt, I still smile at her comment. Not the cat part, but how she calls Butch “dad” already. I couldn’t picture how Bubba’s mute brother was supposed to fit into a family, especially one with a background like Sissy’s. When it works, it just does.
I thought that about Bubba, but now I worry he isn’t ready. In the span of three months, he dated his brother’s dream woman, fought with Butch, left town, fell in love with me, dealt with his brother’s shooting, moved in with me, gunned down a group of men, and now killed his rival with his bare hands.
Anyone would be overwhelmed and need a break.
I shouldn’t cry over something I understand. Things have changed between Bubba and me. We’re not in a good place. He should want distance. I just hope he doesn’t make our separation permanent.
“Can I braid your hair?” Haydee whispers. “I’ve been practicing, and your hair is straight, and that’s easier.”
I really don’t want anyone touching me, but how do I tell this child no? She wants to make me feel pretty so I’ll stop crying.
Lily kneels down next to the couch and asks if I need anything. Her dark eyes offer such compassion, but I just shake my head.
My mind wanders as Butch’s family takes care of me. Haydee creates many small braids in my hair. Sissy bakes cookies. Hart lets me pick the movie we watch.
They all want to help me stop crying, but the tears won’t end. I go to the bathroom to clean up and feel worse after seeing my reflection. I feel ugly and ashamed.
I put down the toilet seat and hide in the bathroom. Closing my eyes, I breathe slowly and center myself.
I’m not dead. I didn’t lose any teeth. My nose will heal. It’s only been three days. When Odin attacked me, I was in pain for at least a week, and my shoulder wasn’t completely healed for much longer. I didn’t let myself fear him.
Why am I allowing Griff’s actions to destroy my confidence? Or keep me from feeling close with Bubba?
And if my broken nose and black eyes do repulse Bubba, it’s better to learn he’s shallow now while we’re starting out rather than down the road when I get a fat ass from having his kids.
Hearing his voice, I wipe my tears and leave the bathroom. Bubba stands in the living room, listening to Haydee who tells him about the cat her dad says they can have.
“Your cat better not eat my birds,” he says, leaning down until their noses are nearly touching. “Or I’ll sic Freki on it.”
Haydee laughs and looks at the dog. “He too little to do anything.”
“Well, then I’ll sic Frenchie on your cat.”
“I promise I won’t let my kitty eat your birds.”
Bubba pats her head and then notices me watching them. His expression turns weird for a few seconds, and I realize he’s reacting to my hair. I shrug while he hesitantly moves toward me.
“I have only one question,” he says.
“Me too.”
“You first.”
“Do you want me less because I look like this?”
Bubba sighs deeply. “Oh, Soso, don’t you remember what I told you at the sanctuary?”
“No.”
“You asked if I’d still want you if you lost an eye to Grinch and I said I’d want you more.”
“Because everything makes you want me more,” I whisper, recalling his words. “Now ask your question.”
Bubba kneels down and wraps his arms around my waist before resting his cheek against my stomach. His expression reminds me of a little boy’s. “Will you teach me to braid your hair so we can be like your parents?”
Bursting into laughter, I run my fingers through his thick locks. “But yours isn’t long enough to make a good braid.”
“I’ll grow it out for you.”
“Um, no, thank you.”
“Don’t you think I’d look good as a dirty hippie?” he asks, batting his long lashes for me.
“I don’t want you to change for me. Only change if you want to.”
Bubba stands and covers my lips with his. He’s been wary about kissing me. Though there’s nothing sexy about my puffed out and bruised face, I taste a hint of heat. Bubba still wants me. Sex would likely help us both, but I’m scared.
Just the thought of taking off my top and feeling exposed makes me want to push him away. I don’t, though, because I need to get stronger, and keeping Bubba at arm’s length is a weak move.
“Are you do
ne with work for the day?” I ask when he thanks Sissy and Lily for Soso-sitting.
“Yeah, I just wanted to talk to my dad about feelings and stuff. It was all girly, and we cried. Real embarrassing shit, but I’m fine now.”
Smiling, I take his hand. “I’m going to walk out of this house with my head held high,” I announce before whispering, “Even if my hair looks like an eight-year-old went braid crazy on it.”
Bubba hugs his cousin, shakes his soon-to-be sister-in-law's hand—to avoid pissing off Butch—and then showers his niece and nephews with high-fives. Seeing him tap his finger against Byron’s tiny palm heals something deep inside me.
Since the woods, I haven’t stopped thinking about his hands tearing apart Griff. I couldn’t picture them caressing me or rubbing Bjork’s belly or carrying Freki. They only represented violence.
But then his pinkie taps Byron’s tiny palm, and I only see Bubba.
That’s how healing works, and I need to remember to be patient with both Bubba and me.
THE RUNAWAY
Lily doesn’t want me to take Soso. My cousin worries I’m still an arrogant dick. After all, I dated Sissy despite not wanting her. I ran off when shit didn’t go my way. That’s all true, but I’ve changed.
Not that I’m in the mood to prove anything to my cousin. Soso is the only one who matters. I hadn’t been certain I knew how to help her. I’m still unsure, but Pop helped me realize that it’s enough to try. Soso wants me to be the one at her side.
And she makes that clear again when she dares me to admit I’m turned off by her battered face. Based on her smile, my answer hits the sweet spot.
We tell everyone goodbye and promise to bring Freki back over to play with Hart soon. Soso smiles during the drive. She smiles when we walk through the door. She smiles when I ask if she wants to watch a silly movie. She smiles when I undo the many braids in her hair.
We sit on the couch where she holds my hand with her unbroken one and stares at me.
“My parents will be here tonight,” Soso says, studying my face as if waiting for something.
“Good because we have more food than we can ever eat.”
“But we won’t have much privacy.”
I hear an emotion in her voice that draws my attention away from “Airplane.”
“Privacy for what?”
Her brown eyes reveal fear. She looks nearly ready to scoot away from me. Instead, Soso straddles my lap and exhales unsteadily. “Do you remember our first time in my truck?”
My fingers brush away the hair from her shoulders. Soso shivers, but she’s waiting for my answer.
“I replay that day in my head regularly,” I whisper as my hands slide down her arms to her waist.
“Bubba, stop coming onto me and pay attention,” she says and cups my face. “I might freak out while we fuck. I could scream or jump off your dick or do all kinds of insane shit. I need you to understand that whatever happens isn’t personal. I’m not completely in control of myself.”
“Then we should wait,” I mumble, removing my hands.
“I don’t want to wait,” she says and exhales deeply. “Sex with you makes me feel beautiful and relaxed and hopeful. My body hurts, and I look terrible, but I want to celebrate that you and I are alive. But you still need to be ready for me to lose my shit halfway through.”
The last thing I should do is laugh, but the image of her jumping off my dick and running away stirs something stupid inside me. I fight my chuckles, but then Soso starts laughing, and I can’t help myself.
“I’ll be gentle,” she says, running her fingers over my injured arm. “Can you be gentle?”
Her question is accompanied by a soft roll of her hips against mine. My dick has been stuck in the depressed mode for days. The pot hasn’t helped either.
Her little thrust and the warmth in her gaze are all the prompting my dick needs to cheer up.
“I want you to touch me, but I can’t take off my shirt. Do you understand?” she whispers just before her lips brush against mine.
“Do I have to keep my shirt on too?” I ask and Soso bursts into teary laughter.
“You and your fucking shirt,” she snickers before sighing. “You never, ever have to keep on your shirt. After all, if you’ve got it, why not flaunt it?”
I love the humor in her voice, and I’m dying to make her moan. Yet my lips on hers cause Soso to wince.
“We’ll need to try different spots to avoid our tender ones,” she says and lifts herself up, so her tits brush against my lips.
Soso takes a few tries to get the hang of touching me without banging her cast. Finally, the fingers from her good hand slide through my hair.
The feel of her intoxicates me. My lips graze her nipples, finding them hard under her shirt. Soso exhales in the familiar way I’ve missed the last few days.
I get creative as I work her body into submission. Her lips are too tender, but kissing her soft throat makes Soso moan just right. My fingers find her back too sensitive, but her thighs shiver at my touch.
Then out of nowhere, Soso freezes in my arms. She stares at me with wide, terrified eyes. “I told Griff that moving here was a mistake. When we were in the SUV, and I wanted him to lower his guard, I said being with you was a mistake. I said that, but I didn’t mean it.”
Soso awkwardly cups my face with her hands. “I’m still homesick for Hickory Creek and my family. That’s true. And I haven’t gotten completely comfortable with your family and friends yet. That’s all true. But I don’t regret moving here or being with you. That was a lie. I know you know it’s a lie, but I needed to say out loud how it was a lie. I love you more than I could ever think possible and I want to be here with you. I didn’t mean what I said to him.”
My hands cover hers as I hold her gaze. “That was really smart how you played him.”
Looking relieved, Soso nods. “I never loved him. He said I did, and he said I told him I did, but I never loved him. You’re the only one, and I think that’s probably obvious, but I still needed to say the words.”
“You were so smart that day,” I whisper as my fingers stroke her battered shoulders. “I don’t know what would have happened if I found the SUV with you two inside. But you saw your chance and ran. That likely saved us both.”
The fear fades in Soso’s wet eyes, and she nods. “I lied a lot with Griff. Just to make him stop nagging or to keep him calm. I don’t want to be that way with you. I want you to trust me because I trust you. Today, I thought maybe you didn’t want me because of how I looked. I was making excuses for things to end. I was weak, but you weren’t. That’s why I trust you, and I want you to trust me like that too.”
“I do trust you, but I’m a dumb guy and sometimes forget.”
“And I’m a dumb girl, who sometimes forgets too.”
“We’re perfectly dumb together.”
Soso winces when she smiles big for me, but my woman’s too joyful to let a little pain ruin this moment. She also returns to wiggling her ass on my lap to reignite what we created so easily back in Hickory Creek in her rusty truck.
Our first time together seems like an eternity ago. We were strangers then. I felt lost. She feared letting another man close. But we were both what the other needed.
Stars aligned for us to meet. Soso went against her better judgment to give me a shot. I should have avoided becoming an “us” when I didn’t even know how to be me. We moved way too fast, and Soso gave up her home for me. I don’t know if I can ever repay her for such a gift.
But we have a long life together for me to try.
THE CHAPTER WHERE THE STORY ENDS
THE BOHEMIAN
I never enjoy a eureka moment where I suddenly let go of the day in the woods. It’s a slow grind of day to day choices to feel more secure. By the end of the first week, I don’t waste as much electricity by leaving on all the lights. My nightmares aren’t so vivid. I no longer smoke so much pot to deal with the pain and anxiety.
Mom and Dad return to Conroe after she gets a replacement trained for the group home. She has some vacation time saved up and uses almost two weeks of it to take care of me. I don’t really need physical help. My broken hand doesn’t cause too many problems, and Bubba’s family handles cleaning and cooking.
Emotionally, Mom is my lifesaver. Each day in the backyard while draped in the soothing summer sunlight, we spend hours talking about everything from my move to Conroe to what happened with Griff.
We go over some of the stuff a lot. Every time I replay what happened in the woods, the vivid fear from that day fades a little more. Talking about it with Bubba isn’t really an option. He suffers from too much guilt despite having done nothing wrong. Hearing more details about that day will only dump my pain on top of his.
Plus, he will never understand why I feel tremendous guilt over Griff’s death. There’s no rational reason to pity the man. Bubba might even worry I cared more for Griff than I ever did.
How can I explain to him that my ex-boyfriend’s final cries of pain and fear haunt me? Bubba shoulders too much responsibility for my happiness. It’s the way he loves and how he views his worth as a man. No doubt sharing my guilt, confusion, and fear about Griff will only create more of a burden for him.
Talking with Mom is the best kind of therapy. I can’t exactly see a real shrink anyway. Physician-patient privilege doesn’t mean crap in the real world. How can I trust a shrink not to rat me out to the cops about Griff or anything that might seem illegal? No catharsis is worth risking Bubba’s freedom.
But I can say anything to Mom. A few times, I give a play-by-play about that day only to go through it again as soon as I finish. I share what I wish I did differently. I cry over how scared I felt and how terrified Griff sounded and how frightening Bubba looked. She never judges me.
Mom shares too. About how depressed she’s been since I moved away and how much she resents both Bubba for stealing my heart and Dad for needing to stay in Hickory Creek. Mom knows she can’t move to Conroe even if he could. Her work, her friends, her life is in Tennessee, but she misses me more than she thought possible.
