by Jc Emery
“Do you still like what you see?” Ian asks. I catch the misery in his eyes and want more than anything to make him feel better. The truth is on the tip of my tongue, but I’m scared to say it. More than ever, I want to just be brave enough to tell him the truth, regardless of how well he takes it.
“Nothing and no one will stop me from loving you. They deserved worse than death, and if you had let me, I would have killed them myself.”
“That’s what scares me,” he says. Our eyes are locked as we stand in the room as it fills with smoke and the bodies of father and son smolder into nothingness.
July 23rd
9 months to Mancuso’s downfall
Chapter 23
So much has changed between me and Ian. We’re closer now than before, but there’s a wall between us that unsettles me. I love him in a way that consumes me so fully I almost can’t breathe sometimes. I meant it when I told him that he’s the only thing that makes me feel better. It’s probably unhealthy, but when I think back to who I was six months ago, my stomach turns. I was so weak and broken back then. I still have my damage—we all do, I think—but at least I don’t feel dead now. He makes me see that our scars don’t define us.
On good days, I think I’d like to counsel others through their own trauma. On really good days, I realize that no trauma line is going to hire a woman whose idea of therapy is lighting a man on fire in a bath tub. Not that I lit the match, but still. I could have and sometimes I wish it had been me.
Ian likes to ignore the part of me that revels in the darkness. He also hedges around his own darkness. For the last six weeks, we’ve had nothing but lightness and soft touches and sweet words. If it were real, who he is at heart, I could stomach it. But this isn’t my Ian. My Ian is dark. He struggles with his own image, choosing only to see the hate and rage that fills him, paying attention only to the bloodshed. He doesn’t see what I see—a beautiful man with such a beautiful light that no amount of sorrow or despair can come close to quashing it. Sometimes he’s the only thing that guides me out of the black void. He’s my light.
That’s why today is so important to me.
Today, Ian turns twenty-seven.
A few days ago, Alex brought up his birthday in front of me, so I had to pretend like I was surprised and nobody had mentioned it to me before. He told me to drop it, and because we’re in this weird place that’s something more than roommates but something less than what I want, I did as he asked and acted like I was mad at him. For such a perceptive man, he sure does have a blind spot to things he doesn’t want to see. He wants to believe that I’ve dropped the birthday thing, so when he doesn’t see or hear of any evidence to the contrary, he accepts that I care about his birthday about as much as he does, which couldn’t be further from the truth.
I’ve been waiting for this day for a month. Ian retreated into himself after the Jenningses died in an unfortunate house fire that left no survivors, no evidence, and no leads—at least according to the investigators who the club paid off. I was at the end of my rope, having no idea what to do with him, when Ruby and Alex came to me, asking for help sorting out a top-secret birthday surprise. Neither of them actually need my help, but it makes me feel good to be included. All I’ve really done is distract Ian from figuring out what’s going on at Ruby and Jim’s house today in preparation for the party at the clubhouse tonight, and I’m not even doing a great job at that. We were supposed to head out for the day an hour ago, but Ian had something mysterious come up suddenly, and he headed over there and hasn’t been back since. He gave me an extra hour to get ready, so I spent extra time making myself presentable, but I don’t like what I see in the mirror. I look like I’m trying way too hard.
I start over by going into our shared underwear drawer and pulling out a dark red bra and panty set I bought a few weeks ago. The sexy black push-up bra and thong set I got specifically for today is just not comfortable for too long. Maybe, if I play my cards right, I’ll be able to get him to touch me tonight. He’s given in a few times since the first time we had sex, but it always ends the same. He’s angry because I’ve pushed the limits, which just results in it taking even longer for him to give in to me the next time. I hate anything to hurt him, especially if it’s me who’s hurting him, so I’m working on it. Every day when he leaves to deal with club shit, I work on my “issues” in our bed. He probably knows I’m doing it, at least some of the time, but it’s not something we ever talk about. I just want to be better for him. He deserves better than what I’m giving him.
With the more comfortable red set on, I go into our shared sock drawer and grab a pair of his socks. It’s passive-aggressive to dirty all his socks, sure, but he’s the one who left me here and didn’t even ask me to come to the house with him. Not that he cares much. He knows I’ve been doing it and will just re-wear them the next day no matter how dirty I get them. In the bathroom, my toothbrush rests next to his in the mounted holder, but I use his instead and snicker to myself because it seems so taboo to use someone else’s toothbrush. There’s probably hygiene warnings against it, but I don’t give a shit. The rest of my morning routine flies by pretty quickly.
I dress in a pair of skinny jeans and my black boots. I pull out the white low-cut tank I had Ruby order for me that reads FORSAKEN across the chest and PROPERTY OF IAN on the back, and I slide into it. Then, like the chicken shit I am, I pull a black tank over the top of it. He hasn’t seen the tank yet, and I don’t know how he’s going to feel about it. I don’t really want to be stuck in the SUV with him for most of the day if he’s going to be in a foul mood. I still can’t believe how far Ruby and I have come in the last few weeks. I suspect Ryan’s big mouth told her what happened in that bathroom. She looks at me differently now, with respect and kindness in her eyes.
I nearly make it to the front door before realizing how sunny it is outside and deciding to grab my sunglasses. The walk-in closet has two sets of shelves that are shallow and wide, like they’re meant for shoes. There’s just so much space that my and Ian’s shoes combined don’t take up much space, so I repurposed the upper-level shelving for my accessories. I’m running out of time to get to Ruby and Jim’s in time for Holly to arrive, so I rush into the closet and grab the glasses, then spin around to head out.
Something on the floor of the closet catches my eye and stops me in my tracks. It’s the old red purse I was using to hide the cash Ian has given me that I choose not to spend. There’s close to eight grand in there now, but it’s off-limits. Or is it?
“You can’t spend it,” I say aloud, as if verbalizing this conversation will make the wheels stop turning in my head. “It would be wrong.
“Well, maybe it wouldn’t be wrong if I use it to spruce up my new house,” I argue. With myself. Aloud. I’m going from silly goose to total whackadoodle pretty quickly.
Without any more thought on the subject, I grab the purse, open it, and find the money is still there. It’s a big purse and carries well, so I shove my sunglasses, wristlet, and phone inside and stride out of the closet trying not to feel guilty. He’s said it a million times—he doesn’t care what I do with the cash. I bet he doesn’t even realize I still have this much since he refuses to even talk about money. He gets this grouchy voice and says, “I’m taking care of you, babe. I stop giving you what you need, then we talk about money. Until then, shut up about it.”
I don’t have my keys to lock up the house, so I don’t even try. They’ve been missing for days now. I even asked Ian if he’s seen them, but he just brushed me off and said I didn’t need keys to the house or my car. For someone so morose all the time, he is so deliciously possessive about certain things. I’d rather he take me on his bike over driving my car any day, but still, I don’t like leaving the house unlocked. If I wait for him, I don’t want to stress over it, but I’ve waited long enough. The man is ditching out on birthday time with me, and that’s just not cool.
I try to calm myself about leaving the house unlocked. It’s
not like anybody is going to find themselves out here in the woods and walk right into the cabin at random on the one day it’s not locked up. Plus, anybody who knows the cabin is here likely knows who it belongs to, and they can’t be stupid enough to steal from Forsaken.
“You used his toothbrush, and now you’re going to get his house robbed. Score one point for being awesome, Mindy.” As I make my way through the woods and then across the field that separates the cabin from Ruby and Jim’s house, I continue to argue with myself about taking the money and then leaving the house unlocked. I’ve only ever been good at being bad when I was high or drunk. The rest of the time I’m way too neurotic to really pull it off.
Just as I’m passing the barn, almost to the house, I see a petite figure standing on the back deck. It takes me a moment of focusing on the person’s frame before I realize it’s Alex. She’s got a coffee mug in her hands and is taking slow sips from it. I’m surprised that they’re letting her stand out here unguarded. Nic’s told me how much she misses Alex. The more dangerous things get around here, the less she gets out. Ryan has apparently kept her under lock and key. The more I get to know Ryan, the more I see him as a brother, but that doesn’t mean I can’t see the man is fine as fuck. If I didn’t have Ian, I might be cool with him locking me away.
“Hey!” Alex says with a wave in my direction.
I wave back and give her a smile, hoping she doesn’t think it’s weird that I’m just kind of appearing out of nowhere. I never come to the house without Ian or without Alex or Ruby coming to get me. I know we’re right on the other side of the woods from the house and technically on the same plot of land, but I don’t feel comfortable just popping by yet.
I make it within twenty feet or so of the back deck before I realize that she’s not alone. Lying in the sun beside her, with its face lying on its paws, is a pit bull. Its eyes are focused on me, and its butt is raised in the air. It emits a low, fierce growl. I pause, afraid that the dog looks like it’s about to rush at me. This is the other reason I don’t make a habit out of dropping by unannounced. The first time I came by, Ruby told me I was lucky the dog didn’t try to tear my leg off. Apparently they keep highly bred guard dogs on site. Or they did. Now they’re down to just one.
But not for long. That’s the other awesome thing about today—puppies. Well, not puppies, but Ian and I are heading out and picking up the new guard dogs from the breeder. The man promised me a dog, and today he’s making good on that promise. Every time I bring up something he doesn’t want to talk about, he redirects my attention by talking puppies, which is totally unfair because it works so well.
I tried to tell the support group I drop in on once in a while post-sobriety sabotage about my troubles, and half the group just stared at me like I’m an alien, so I haven’t been to a meeting in a while. They’re important to go to, and they do help ground me, but it’s weird showing up when my life is so good and other people are fighting so hard for their sobriety. I feel a little guilty about that, like I should be suffering more, missing the high more intensely. I still miss it, even on good days, but it’s different now. I miss it, but I don’t want it. It’s kind of like being freed from shackles but remembering how they feel around your ankles.
“She’s harmless,” Alex says and urges me forward. I nod my head and keep moving, still slightly nervous about the dog at her side. “Well, not harmless, but she listens well.” Alex looks down at the dog and smiles fondly, then takes another sip of coffee. She lowers the mug and speaks in a firm voice, saying, “PJ, up.”
PJ stands up. I’ve never really seen her around the house when I’ve been there, which I never thought was weird until now. She’s still focusing on me like I’m a prime rib and she’s starving, but she isn’t making any attempt to move toward me.
“Not all pits are dangerous,” Alex says.
“I know that.” I’m defensive and I know it, but she’s being defensive, too. I don’t want her to think I have a thing against them, because I don’t. “It’s just . . . I know what she’s trained to do.”
“Ryan says I’ve ruined her. She’s still a kick-ass guard dog, but she’s more lover than fighter. Let me introduce you to her so she knows you’re a friend.”
I walk up on the deck and stop when Alex signals for me to. I’m about ten feet away from her and PJ now. I expect Alex to bend down and say something sweet and gentle in PJ’s ear, but she doesn’t.
“Sit.” PJ follows Alex’s order without fail and sits down. “Gentle greeting,” she says, and PJ stands up and walks to me at a slow pace. She stops right in front of me and sits down with her big eyes staring up at me. And I fucking melt. PJ leans in and bumps me with her head, her little butt wiggling like crazy underneath her. I bend down and pet her behind her ears. She barks happily, and I fall totally in love.
“Ryan told me you and Ian are getting a dog today,” she says. “How did you talk him into that?”
I shrug my shoulders but smile ruefully. “I just asked to go with him to pick up your dog. The man offered.”
“My brother’s got a squishy heart,” she says and grins at something over my shoulder. PJ abandons me and runs off. I turn around to see Ian standing at the edge of the deck. He bends to pet the dog and shakes his head at me and Alex.
“Hey there, birthday boy,” Alex says with a wave.
He just rolls his eyes and ignores her, a move that is so reminiscent of his mother that it’s almost eerie.
“Babe, puppies.” He turns around and stalks off toward Ruby’s Suburban.
I give Alex a wink and chase off after him. Once we’re on the highway and officially out of town, I send Alex a text asking her to make sure we have enough dog food for the new family members. It’s lame, but that’s the code we agreed on so she and Ruby would know when it was safe for them to go all out with decorating.
“You ditched me this morning,” I say, searching for something to talk about aside from what I really want to talk about. I’ve told him I love him a few times, but he’s never said it back, and even though he still kisses me all the time, he’s so detached it’s painful.
“Don’t do that thing,” he says, his eyes darting between me and the road.
“What thing?”
“That needy girlfriend thing.”
“So, I’m your girlfriend?” I’m an idiot. A seriously certifiable idiot. We’re adults, living together and getting a dog, and here I am getting caught up on labels. “Are we actually talking about our relationship?”
“Yeah, we got time. While we’re at it, let’s talk about that surprise birthday party Ma and Alex are getting ready.”
“Oh?” I say way too innocently. I mean, the jig is up, so it’s not like I’m blowing our cover or something. “Didn’t you say you don’t want a party? That’s what you told me at least.”
“Well, you’re committed to your story, I’ll give you that.”
I stay silent for a long time after that, not wanting to argue. The breeder is based on a plot of land in a tiny town a solid two hours away from home. It would ruin our entire day if we started fighting now.
We’re about halfway to our destination when Ian pulls the SUV off the highway and parks in the far corner of the parking lot at the quiet rest stop. There’s not another vehicle in the lot, and it looks like we’re alone. I keep silent and wait for him to say or do something. I’m not a patient woman, but I force myself not to break.
To my surprise, Ian unbuckles his seat belt, then leans over and unbuckles mine. His long arms slips into the space between my seat and the door. I go to ask him what he’s doing when the back of my seat falls back and he’s half on top of me. If he’d told me my silence would earn me this kind of action, I’d have tried this tactic a damn long time ago.
“I want my girl back,” he says, cupping my cheek. I stare at him in confusion, trying to work out the message behind the comment. I don’t know what he’s talking about, though. “You’re closed off, like you’re scared. What are yo
u so scared of?”
“You,” I say and instantly regret it. “You keep pulling away from me.” I’m careful not to hedge the topic that plagues me the most, at least not until I’m ready.
“You frighten me,” he says. “I care about you, a lot. But you scare the shit out of me. Every time I think you’re going to get some sense into you and run the other direction, you adapt.”
“It’s a survival skill,” I say. He’s so close now, close enough to brush his nose with mine.
“It’s more than that.”
“You’re afraid I’m becoming too much like you, like you’re somehow ruining me.”
“I am,” he says and presses his lips into my cheek. “I’m worried because I like it. What does that make me—that I like how I’m defiling you?”
My heartbeat speeds up, and I can barely breathe. God, he’s fucking sexy like this. The way people used to talk about him around me would make me think he’s this stone wall of silence. Nic never even hints at Duke talking about his feelings, and Ryan certainly doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy who’s up for a heart-to-heart. I know Holly and Grady talk about things like this, to an extent, but it’s never really all that deep or drawn out. Holly says that she and Grady just get each other, which is lovely in its own right. It’s funny to think of my sweet Holly with the sergeant at arms. She’s so big on open communication, as long as it suits her, and he seems so closed off. I guess you just never know about people, because they definitely work as a couple even if it is surprising.
“Human,” I say. I’ve been meaning to share this piece of me with him. I just hadn’t gotten around to it until now. Oh, now I’m even lying to myself. It’s not that I haven’t gotten around to it yet—it’s more like I’ve been avoiding it. But I can’t avoid it forever.
“I wasn’t that girl who partied or experimented. I was actually kind of lame in high school. Other girls thought about college and a career, how they’d live in a big city when they graduated. I never really saw that in my future.”
