Now or Never

by Jamie Canosa

  “It’s okay.”

  “It’s not okay, Em. He was here. Talking to you. Touching you. Son of a bitch!” In a single fluid move, he swooped down, snatched the bowl off the floor and slammed it down in the sink. “I should have seen this coming. I should have known things couldn’t be so simple. That he’d never give up that kind of money without a fight. He never does anything without a fight.”

  Jay had a habit of talking with his hands, especially when he was upset. They were moving a mile a minute now as he paced the small space between the sink and fridge like a caged tiger.

  “Dammit, why can’t I just keep you safe?”

  “Jay, you—” Em stepped forward to comfort him at the same moment he whirled around to face her and his outstretched palm slammed across her cheek. Pain exploded behind her right eye and she stumbled sideways. Feet twisted, she fell before she could grab a hold of the counter and found herself sprawled across the peeling linoleum of the kitchen floor.

  Em gasped—more out of surprise than anything else—and struggled to right herself. Untangling her legs, she leaned back against the cabinets. That’s when she saw Jay. The anger had completely drained from his face, replaced by a look of horror so tangible it made her heart skip a beat.

  “Jay?” She licked her lower lip and tasted a small amount of blood.

  He blinked down at her, but the horror remained etched into each of his features. “Oh, my God.”

  “Jay, it’s—”

  “Oh, my God!” Instead of offering her a hand, he took a step back. Away. And then another. “What did I do? Oh, my God.”

  “Jay, no. It’s okay.”

  “Okay?” Some of the anger was returning. “That is not okay. That is never okay. How can you even say that?”

  “It was an accident.”

  “That’s what she used to say. She said it all the time. Every time.”

  The panic in his voice twisted Em’s stomach to knots. “Who? What are you talking about?”

  “My mother.” His voice was barely above a whisper, but those two words echoed through the room. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Em. I’m so sorry.” He continued to back away as he spoke. One foot behind the next, never looking where he was going, but he made it to the front door.

  He paused there, shaking his head, and Em’s heart thumped in her chest. She couldn’t let him leave. Not like this.

  “Jay, where are you going?” He just kept shaking his head like he couldn’t believe any of this was real. “Jay, please. You’re scaring me.”

  “You should be scared!” With that he turned and disappeared out the door, slamming it shut behind him before she could think of another word to say.

  Jay was gone. He was gone. He left. The thought held Em immobile until she heard the sound of the truck starting up in the driveway. Hauling herself to her feet, she raced to the front door, but by the time she threw it open all she saw was the tailgate disappearing in a cloud of fresh fallen powder.

  Em stood there for a long time, staring down the road like she expected him to come to his senses and turn around. He didn’t.

  The sun was slipping behind dark clouds that promised more snow in the near future when the sound of the smoke alarm drew her back inside. Black smoke wafted from the oven. Using a dish rag to fan the alarm, Em pulled out a dozen blackened biscuits.

  After tossing them in the trash and opening a window to air out the room, she sat on the couch to wait. She’d just wait. Jay would come back. He’d get his head together and then he’d come home to her. Everything was going to be fine. It was just one of those bumps in the road. They’d weathered plenty of those. This was no different. It couldn’t be. She’d just wait.

  Chapter Nine

  Jay

  He’d hurt her.

  Hit her.

  Em.

  His Em.

  Jay couldn’t get the image of her lying on the kitchen floor, a red mark marring her cheek, from his mind. He’d done that to her. There wasn’t enough road in the world for him to drive to leave that thought behind, but he tried. He just kept driving. No particular destination in mind. Windows down, radio blaring. Nothing helped.

  His one purpose in this life was to take care of that girl. Protect her. But what if he was the one she needed protection from? What if there was something wrong with him? Something spoiled? Something rotten deep down? Something he’d inherited? Or acquired? How could he protect her from the monster living in her own house? Sleeping in her own bed?

  ‘It was an accident.’ That’s what Em said. And it was, wasn’t it? He hadn’t meant to hurt her. He’d never hurt her. But the fact remained, he had. The awful image of Em morphed. Her dark hair lightened to a pale blonde. She grew taller and heavier, and her face . . . His mother’s face stared back at him, wide-eyed and frantic.

  “It was just an accident, Jay. Just an accident. He didn’t mean it.”

  Was that his and Em’s future? His parents couldn’t have always been the way he remembered them. They must have loved each other, once. Before everything went to shit. How had it started? With a lost temper? A bad day? An honest accident?

  However it started, it always ended the same. Fists, belts, golf clubs . . . it didn’t matter. She made the same damn excuses every time. Jay had made them, too. For years. He’d just never been fool enough to convince himself of them before. And he wasn’t going to start now. Accident or not, there was no excuse for what he’d done to Em.

  On top of all that, he was back. That ham fisted asshole had laid his hands on Em. Not in any violent way, but enough to give Jay the unshakable image. She was working tooth and nail every day to claw her way out of her own pile of shit, and now she was about to get buried in a whole new pile of his. She didn’t deserve that. She deserved a better life. A good life. The life he’d promised her. The life he’d failed to provide for her.

  Em was worthy of someone who could make her happy, give her the things she needed. Someone who could take her to an actual doctor when she was sick. Someone who could feed her. Someone who could face her.

  Weak.

  He couldn’t keep running forever.

  Pathetic.

  Sooner or later he’d have to go home. And knowing Em, it should be sooner because she was probably worried sick.

  Loser.

  She deserved so much better.

  Chapter Ten

  Em

  At some point she must have dozed off because when she woke the house was dark. Em stretched her neck, which had been bent at an awkward angle, and froze. The soft click of the front door shutting sounded through the silent house.

  “Jay?”

  All she could make out was a dark form cast in shadows. It halted in the entryway at the sound of her voice. She couldn’t see his face, but she felt his eyes on her. For the longest time, they just stared at each other. Jay broke first, dropping his keys on the small table against the wall before hustling through the living room and down the hall without a word.

  Cautiously, Em peeled herself off of the sofa and trailed after him. When she reached the bedroom, he was already sprawled face down on the mattress. Quietly tugging off her jeans, Em climbed in beside him and waited. She was desperate to know what was going through his mind, where he’d been, how he was feeling, but afraid of pushing too hard, she didn’t ask. He would talk to her when he was ready. He would hold her close and share his words, and hurts, and fears with her, and then she would kiss them all away. That was how they operated. That was how this went. So, she waited. And waited . . . And waited.

  ***

  Em rolled toward Jay’s side of the bed and nearly choked on panic when she found the sheets cold and vacant. Struggling upright, she rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she scanned the room. No Jay.

  Her feet made quick work of kicking back the covers, and she slipped them into a pair of old slippers before racing down the hall. She was headed to check the drive for Jay’s truck when she found him in the kitchen, standing over the stove
.

  “What are you doing?” Em leaned into the doorframe, watching him work and trying to get her erratic breathing under control.

  From the way his head was bent over the pan, it was hard to tell what he was thinking with his hair shielding most of his face.

  “Making breakfast.” His voice was cold and flat, but she was just glad to hear it.

  “Where’d you get—?”

  “It’s payday. I went shopping.” He was quiet for a minute as he flipped the bacon, still refusing to look her way. “I saw the biscuits in the trash. You didn’t eat yesterday.”

  Neither had he, but that wasn’t the point. “Jay? Are you all right?”

  He glanced up from the stove, looking incredulous. “Am I all right? You’re asking if I’m all right?”

  Em only nodded, not sure how to proceed. Easing away from the wall, she inched further into the room.

  “Are you all right?” Discarding the spatula on the counter, he turned to face her fully, immediately zeroing in on the small cut on her lip.

  Grease splattered across the surface and up the wall, but all Em saw were his shadowed, red-rimmed eyes. She hadn’t heard him cry. It hurt her to think that he could have been in that kind of pain all night while she’d slept right beside him, unaware. Useless.

  “I’m fine, Jay. I know you didn’t mean—”

  “Don’t! Don’t make excuses, Em. Never make excuses for someone who hurts you. There is no excuse. And once you start, it’s too easy to keep doing it. Do you understand me?”

  Em couldn’t answer. This was ridiculous. It was like saying the guy who bumps into you in a crowded hallway is somehow out to get you, but Jay looked so serious, she knew this went much deeper than that. His mother had made excuses for things that were inexcusable. This wasn’t the same, but he couldn’t see the difference.

  “Do you understand me, Em?”

  “Yes.” What else could she say?

  He nodded and turned his attention back to the stove to slide a few slices of bacon onto a chipped dinner plate.

  “You should eat.” He dumped the plate on the table and moved into the hall to pull his coat from the rack.

  “Where are you going?” That old familiar panic was clawing its way back in.

  He heard it. She knew he did by the way he looked at her. Almost like he pitied her, and she hated that. “Work. Tom called and asked if I could cover his shift again.”

  “Oh. Okay.” She wasn’t an idiot. Call or no call, he was still avoiding her. Work was just an excuse to do it.

  Jay hesitated halfway out the door. “I’ll see you in a little while.”

  “Okay.” Em managed a small smile, allowing his words to ease some of her fears. He was avoiding her, but not forever. He just needed more time. She could give him that. Time was the one thing they had in abundance.

  Jay didn’t return the smile. He didn’t make any attempts to get closer, or kiss her. He didn’t even say goodbye, but that was all right. They’d get there. It would just take some more time.

  ***

  “Hey, you sticking around for the party tonight?” Mason sidled up beside Em and helped clear the table she’d been staring blankly at for the past five minutes, lost in her thoughts.

  “Huh?” She blinked up at him.

  “Tom’s party? He graduated. A bunch of us are sticking around after work to help him celebrate. Bart’s cool with it.”

  “Oh . . . um . . . I’m not sure. Maybe.”

  “You should.” He smiled at her, but the expression held sadness. “You could use a little fun, Em. Blow off some steam and just relax for once.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  Work felt like a dream. She drifted through, paying minimal attention, just going through the motions. Em knew her tips were suffering because of it, but she couldn’t draw her attention away from Jay long enough to do a thing about it. When she wasn’t reliving the day before in excruciating detail time and time again, she was watching him like a hawk, looking for any chance to swoop in and talk to him just for a minute to try and gauge his mood. He hadn’t looked her way once since she’d arrived.

  “What’s up with you today?” Ashlyn dropped a bottle of ketchup in Em’s hand and pointed to table eight.

  “Long night.”

  “Nightmares?”

  “No.” Strangely, her mind had been so occupied with thoughts of Jay all night that her uncle hadn’t found his way into her subconscious for the first time in a long time. “Jay and I are . . .”

  “Fighting?”

  “No. Not exactly.” She didn’t really know what they were. “Something happened yesterday that got Jay worked up and he sort of . . . hit me.”

  Ashlyn’s eyes went wide and Em jumped to explain. “An accident. It was an accident. He was talking with his hands and I stepped right into it. Completely my fault.”

  “But?” Ash’s eyes no longer looked in danger of popping out of her skull, but now they held a hint of suspicion Em hated to see there.

  “Jay freaked. You should have seen him, Ash. It was like . . . he was afraid of himself. He took off right after and didn’t come home until late last night.”

  “Have you guys talked about it?”

  “Sort of.” Em cast a glance at where Jay was getting swamped with orders behind the bar. “He won’t listen to me when I tell him it wasn’t his fault. He keeps telling me I’m making excuses, but that’s nonsense.”

  Ashlyn shrugged, casting her own glance in Jay’s direction. “He’s a protector, Em. It’s what he does. He protects you. That role is practically his entire identity. It was probably pretty confusing when he did something he’d beat the crap out of anyone else for doing to you. Don’t worry, he’ll come around. I bet this party tonight will be just what the doctor ordered for both of you. Let him loosen up a bit and maybe you’ll have a better chance getting through to him.”

  It wasn’t a bad idea. Jay could definitely use a night to relax. “Thanks, Ash.”

  “Anytime, doll-face. Now move your ass, we’re falling behind, and the customers are likely to mutiny if we don’t get them their deep fried heart attacks soon.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Jay

  “Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!”

  Jay lounged behind the bar, shaking his head as Tom pounded the last of his beer. Ashlyn, Sahara, Mason, a few guys from the morning crew, and even Em cheered him on. Tom had just graduated college which meant he was off to bigger and better things than his oh-so-lucrative career at Bart’s. Even though he’d used Jay to cover for him while he spent the day celebrating with friends, Bart still let him use the restaurant—and it’s booze—to party after closing. Things had been going strong for over an hour and Jay was feeling the buzz.

  He’d had a few. Maybe more than a few—he’d lost count—but that was okay. Em didn’t drink so he could count on her to drive home. He could always count on his girl. She was always there for him. No matter what, she’d stick by him. And that was her fatal flaw. Loyalty. Despite what she said, he was convinced it played some part in why she’d stayed with her bastard uncle for so long, and why she’d never leave him, either. Even though he was so obviously bad for her.

  Music boomed from the sound system as Jay mixed another rum and diet coke for Sahara. The alcohol was definitely doing its job. He didn’t even mind watching Em and Mason laugh over something he’d said. She was beautiful when she laughed. Head thrown back, dark hair cascading over her shoulder, smile lighting up her face. She didn’t do it nearly enough.

  “Jay, sweetie, can you help me with something?” Sahara tripped over her heels into the bar opposite him, giggling all the way.

  He’d lost track of how many he’d made for her, too. From the looks of things, it was a lot, and she could definitely use some help. “Sure. What do you need?”

  “Come here. Come here.” She beckoned him closer, hushed like it was some kind of secret mission.

  If it hadn’t been for the beer goggles, he mi
ght have noticed the gleam in her eye, or the fact that she was leading him down the hall toward the bathrooms where she couldn’t possibly need his help with anything besides possibly wiping her ass. The thought made him laugh. Yeah, he’d definitely had a few too many. His tolerance had been legendary back in high school, but a few years without drinking and it was shot all to shit.

  “What are we doing?”

  “I need you.” Sahara turned around, prowling back in his direction when Jay came to a standstill.

  “What?”

  “I need you, Jay. I need you. Now.”

  Sahara stepped in closer as Jay shook his head trying to clear it. What the hell was happening here? He took a step back and she matched him pace for pace until his back came up against the wall. Before he could blink, she’d closed the space between them entirely, rubbing her body against his.

  Her soft, warm curves pressed into his chest. “Sahara . . .”

  Nails raked through his hair sending sharp tingles down his spine as she ground her hips against his. Shit, that felt good. Jay pressed his hands firmly to the wall behind him, fighting the growing urge to grab onto her and not let go. His mind railed against what was happening even as his body responded . . . “Wait. Stop.”