My dad’s jaw ticks but he holds his tongue. His fists clench with what I can only assume is barely contained anger and trying to hold himself back from actually carrying me to the car and protecting me from Jack.
“I’m going to call you tonight. Make sure you answer it when I do. Please, Peanut. I need to know you’re okay.”
I wrap my arms back around his shoulders and pull my dad into another hug, inhaling the scent that has comforted me my whole life. “I will,” I whisper against his neck.
He gives me a clipped nod then heads for the door and before I can change my mind and beg him to take me with him, he’s gone.
* * *
Dean
It takes everything inside me to not march back through that door and gather up my little girl and protect her from the monster her husband has become. And if I knew I wouldn’t get thrown in jail because of it, I wouldn’t have hesitated, but the way she looked at me and pleaded for me to leave it alone. Well, I just hope she sticks to her promise of answering the phone when I call tonight. But I swear to Christ, if that piece of shit lays another hand on her, I’ll kill him. Even if I end up getting twenty-five to life, it will have been worth it to protect my baby girl.
Forty-five minutes and a text to Dave later I pull up to the warehouse building. Various pieces of furniture in differing stages of completion are spilling out the garage doors. Nate stands over a workbench in dusty jeans and an even dustier t-shirt, holding a power sander. Not for the first time since discovering Jack wasn’t really dead, do I wish my daughter had chosen this man instead. Jack may have been good for her when they were teenagers, but Nate… Nate was her other half.
“Dean,” he says, turning off the sander and stepping away from the bench to shake my hand. “Wasn’t expecting you around here today.”
“I was around the area and figured I’d stop by. You have any new pieces I can check out?”
“Ja. Just let me put this away and I’ll walk with you to the back.”
Nate unplugs the sander from the outside plug and puts it back in its spot among the countless other power tools he’s collected over the years, along with the ones he inherited from his uncle.
“Ready?”
“Lead the way,” I say, stepping to the side and allowing him to take me through the warehouse. “Did you do all of these?” I ask, taking in the large reclaimed wooden dining room table that can easily fit ten people and maybe then some. Almost immediately my eyes tack onto a wooden coat holder that gleams in the rays of the setting sun coming in through the high windows, and then to what I’m assuming is a headboard. The designs carved into the wood are so intricate, I wonder how he was even able to achieve that much detail. When Nate remains quiet throughout my exploring, I turn back to see him rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, his hands stuffed into the front pockets of his jeans.
“I, um… have a lot of time on my hands lately.”
His unspoken words don’t go unnoticed. Especially, since my daughter broke it off with him to stay with Jack. Just the thought of that bastard has my hands curling into tight fists.
“Dean? You okay, man?”
I clear my throat and force myself to relax my hands. “I just came from Annika’s.”
A myriad of emotions flashes across Nate’s face, but it’s not the first thing I notice when I mention my daughter. No, it is the tick in his jaw and the way he averts his eyes that I notice first.
“I tried convincing her to leave Jackson.”
Nate’s head whips back around. I’m sure in shock that I, as her father, would be on his side rather than my son-in-law.
“She…” Nate pauses, running a finger over the top of the dining table. “She belongs with him.”
I wonder how much it cost him to say that out loud.
“Jack is the last thing she belongs with.”
My refusal to acknowledge Jack as a person doesn’t go unnoticed, but I didn’t think it would. The minute he put his hands on my daughter, he stopped existing as a human being in my eyes.
“What’s going on, Dean?”
“She has a black eye and some bruised ribs.”
Nate’s nose flares and then he’s swinging a fist through the drywall of the building. I wince when he pulls his fist back and I see the trail of blood oozing from his knuckles. Retrieving the first aid kit from where I remember it being the last time I was here; I get him to sit on a dusty stool while I clean and bandage up his hand.
“Did he?”
I nod.
“She’s still at the house?” he questions, running his other hand through his hair.
“She wouldn’t leave.”
Silence descends around us while I finish patching him up and put the kit back. When I return, Nate is staring through the open door of the warehouse, but his eyes are glazed over like his body is here, yet his mind is miles away.
“Why are you telling me?”
“Because you care about her almost as much as I do as her father. Because you love her.”
Slowly he turns to face me. His brown eyes staring into mine trying to assess what exactly it is I want him to do.
“How long has this been going on?”
I fetch us a couple of beers from the mini-fridge he keeps in the warehouse and hand one to him before popping open my own and leaning against a workbench. “Don’t know. She’s been avoiding contact with her mom and me for a couple of weeks. She’s not our biggest fan right now.”
“I heard about the divorce. I’m sorry, man.”
We stand in quiet contemplation for a few more minutes before Nate tips his bottle back and drains the beer.
“Why do you still come around here, Dean? I mean, not that I’m not grateful for the business but-”
“But I can find cheaper furniture elsewhere?”
He moves to throw the empties in the garbage bin before retrieving two more beers and handing one to me which I gladly accept.
“Your uncle was a good man, Nathan. He would’ve been proud of what you’ve accomplished here,” I say indicating the warehouse. I know it doesn’t answer his question but I’m not sure how to answer him because I don’t know why I still come around. I feel like maybe I owe it to Randall to check in on Nathan from time to time. Make sure he’s not alone.
“You know he wasn’t really my uncle.”
I nod. “I know. He confided in me in one night when we got sloshed. He was a good man, Nathan.”
He bops his head like he agrees with me but isn’t sure how to continue talking about the one person he looked up to, even if he won’t admit it.
“So, what are we going to do about Jack?”
“We?”
Nate shrugs, emptying his second beer and tossing it in the bin. “Like you said, I love her.”
It should make me feel uncomfortable hearing him tell me how he feels about my daughter, but this whole thing is weird. Me coming to hang out with her ex included, but I’ve always thought of Nathan as the son I never had.
“I tried asking her to leave but she won’t.” I drain my beer and toss is in the bin along with his. “Maybe she’ll listen to you.”
“And what makes you think that?”
I begin walking back out into the newly darkened sky and pause beside my car. “Because she loves you. Protect my baby girl, Nathan,” I say and then climb in and start the engine.
Chapter 21
Annika
“I’m sorry, Mom. I think I’m just going to have a quiet night at home with a glass of wine. I have a lot of marking to catch up on too,” I say into the phone, feeling guilty yet again that I’m cancelling on dinner with her, but I just can’t let her see me like this.
The black eye has faded a bit but it’s still noticeable even through multiple layers of cover up and foundation. It’s bad enough that my dad unexpectedly saw me like this a few days ago.
I hear her sigh dramatically through the phone and brace myself for the guilt trip only a mom could pull off.
> “But, honey, I haven’t seen you in a few weeks and I’d really like to spend time with my only daughter.”
Yup, called it.
“Look,” I start when there’s a knock on the front door. “I promise I’ll come over on Sunday for breakfast and we can go shopping. I’ll even stay for dinner if you’re making mac and cheese.”
“The one with the tomatoes on top?”
I nod, even though she can’t see me, and move towards the front door. “That’s the one. I gotta go, Mom. Someone’s at the door. But I’ll see you Sunday. Love you, bye,” I say, hanging up and not giving her a chance to keep me on the line any longer.
When I finally pull open the door I feel like deja vu has hit me all over again. Except it’s Xander, Jack’s brother, staring down at me instead of Jack.
“What are… How are you…?”
Xander grimaces, running a hand through his too long brown hair and hikes the strap of his backpack higher on his shoulder.
“Jack never told you I was coming?” he asks, sheepishly. His gaze averted to his shoes.
“Uh, no, he never mentioned you coming,” I say, quickly making sure my hair is covering the side of my face with the black eye before he looks up again.
When his head does pop back up to take me in, his eyes narrow and I try not to squirm.
“What are you doing?”
“What am I doing what?” I ask, playing dumb.
Xander comes towards me, dropping his backpack just inside the door but his steps don’t falter until he’s standing within inches of me. I don’t look up, afraid that if I do, my hair will fall away from my face.
“Why is your hair all in your face, Nik?”
I shrug. “I’ve been trying out new hairstyles. Got bored,” I say, trying to keep my voice even.
Then he’s taking my chin between his fingers and tipping my head back. Xander curses when my hair does exactly what I fear it would and falls away to reveal the black eye and bruises.
“What the hell happened to you?”
I jerk my face from his fingers and turn towards the kitchen, giving him my back. “It’s nothing. Got into a little… altercation,” I say, hoping he buys it.
“Shit,” I hear his footsteps follow me onto the tiled floor. “I’d hate to see the other guy.”
My hand pauses momentarily at his words while reaching for a mug. A tornado of emotions swirling in my gut. I’m grateful that he’s taking my excuse at face value, especially after the confrontation with my father earlier. But at the same time, if anyone should be able to call my bullshit aside from my parents, it’s Xander. Even though I can’t bear to see his face if he finds out his brother was the other guy.
“Yeah,” I reply, going about the room making us both a mug of tea.
It’s only when I’m handing him his, do I realize that I never actually asked if he wanted one. I give him an embarrassed smile but Xander laughs it off and thanks me after taking it from my hands.
“So, this is the house you grew up in, huh?” he asks, while taking in everything from the white tiled backsplash with strawberries in the middle, to the giant cookie jar in the shape of a strawberry in a corner of the counter, and finally to the red kettle I had used a few seconds ago, before his eyes settle back on me and he raises an eyebrow in silent question.
I laugh behind my mug. “What can I say? I like strawberries.”
“Uh-huh.” He grins teasingly.
“Hey,” I backhand his arm playfully, forgetting the pain in my ribs for a few seconds. “At least it’s not all red or strawberries.”
He groans, “Thank God for small miracles.” Then laughs, depositing his mug on the counter and pulling me into his chest. “I missed you,” he mumbles into my hair.
“I missed you too, X.” I slide my arms around his waist, careful not to spill the burning liquid from my cup on his back, and hug him back.
Xander and I hang out around the house, shooting the shit and catching up on things we’ve missed in each other’s lives since I moved to Cape Town. I mean, we talked on the phone, but I always felt like it wasn’t the same as having him close by. We also talk about how weird it is that Jack isn’t dead, and if Xander notices my slight tensing at his brother’s name then he doesn’t let on.
At about four in the afternoon, I start making dinner so Jack can eat right after he walks in the door from the bar where he works under the table. Xander jumps in to help slice up the meat in strips while I slice the peppers and onion and grate the cheese for the fajitas.
I’ve just retrieved a couple of beers from the fridge, popped one open and handed it to Xander when the front door opens then snicks shut. Jack rounds the corner to the kitchen wearing a pair of new dark wash jeans and a white golf shift with the clothing company’s logo on the right breast pocket. I hand him the second beer and go back to check on the chicken and peppers in the pan.
“Dinner’s ready. We can eat at the table or outside if you guys like?”
“Smells good in here,” Jack says, placing a hand on my arm and giving it a hard squeeze while pressing a soft kiss to my temple. He’s standing so close that Xander isn’t able to see the hand squeezing my arm through my sweater but can see the gentle, loving kiss. It’s only when I turn and acknowledge my husband with a smile, does he let go and turn to his brother.
With a quick glance over my shoulder I start wondering that maybe I was wrong and Xander had seen the painful grip Jack had around my arm because he’s looking at me. His eyes narrow into slits and his head cocks to the side. His attention on me is broken when Jack turns to face him and suggests they take their beers outside while I get dinner ready on the table. Because God forbid he has to make his own plate. I swear, this was not the man he was when I married him or even before he left on that last mission. Hell, this wasn’t even the man he was when he first appeared on my doorstep again, but sometime between then and now something snapped inside him that turned him into this… this monster.
I sigh, dropping my head and half-heartedly stirring the mixture in the pan. That isn’t fair to him. I know he’s seen a lot of shit out in the world and he’s just learning how to not be a soldier anymore.
Plating all three meals, I pick up two and walk them out to the covered carport where Jack and Xander are sitting around a folding table. Both of them are leaning back in their chairs, one ankle thrown over a knee, and a beer in hand. I place a plate down in front of each of them and then go back to fetch them more beers before picking up my own food, a glass of water, and joining them. Xander eyes the water but doesn’t say anything, and I relax a little. It’s not like me to not have a glass of wine or join the guys in a beer during dinner so I know the fact that I opted for water is a little suspicious but I’m not ready to answer questions about it yet.
The boys head back into the house after we’ve finishing eating and I grab up all the dishes from the table and head in after them. As I wait for the sink to fill with water and suds, I glance out at the picture window and see dark grey clouds begin to roll in. Thank God, I had taken down the washing earlier in the day, I think and then go about washing the dinner dishes.
I’m about halfway through when Jack comes back into the kitchen and opens the fridge, bending down to get a better look.
“Where’s Xander?” I ask, thinking it’s an innocent enough question. Man, am I wrong.
The door of the fridge slams closed and then Jack is crowding in behind me, his hands gripping my biceps hard enough to leave nail imprints in my skin even despite the sweater I’m wearing.
“What do you care where my brother is? You going to fuck him too?” Jack snarls by my ear.
“What? Don’t be-” I stop myself before the words are out, but Jack doesn’t miss it.
He spins me around to face him and grips my arms again, this time I whimper at how hard he is digging into my skin.
“You were going to call me stupid, weren’t you?” He seethes between clenched teeth.
“N-No. I wasn’
t. I swear,” I cry out, seeing his hand already rising in my peripheral.
He doesn’t get a chance to swing though because suddenly there’s another hand gripped around his wrist and pulling him back.
“What the fuck’s your problem man?” Xander says, stepping between me and Jack.
“None of your goddamn business,” he hisses. His face turns a red that rivals the kettle behind him and his hands clench into fists so tight his knuckles are turning white.
“Since when do you put your hands on her?”
“Since she’s my fucking wife and I can do whatever the hell I want with her.”
I freeze having never heard Jack talk about me like that before. Then I wonder if he’s always thought of me as some property he owns but was just skilled at acting like a gentleman that I never noticed. I shake off the ridiculous thought. Of course, he was never like this before.
“You’re drunk,” Xander scoffs. He looks like a raging bull ready to ram his brother through a wall. I don’t want either of them to get hurt so I tentatively reach out and put a hand on his arm, willing him to back down. Jack notices the gesture and his nose flares. I immediately remove my hand, but the damage is done. I’m going to pay for that later when Xander leaves.
His eyes are bright when he half turns to me, still keeping his brother in his line of sight. “Did he give that to you?” he asks, nodding his head at the black eye.
I drop my gaze and my head. “N-No. Like I said, it was an altercation with one of the other teachers at work,” I say because if I don’t say anything, if I don’t defend Jack somehow, then tonight is going to be infinitely worse than previously nights.
Xander pinches my chin between his thumb and forefinger just like he did when he first arrived and forces me to look up at him. “Don’t lie to me. If he did this, I’ll take you away from here right now, Annika.”
I gulp in air and shake my head. Feeling tears begin to pool in my eyes but I blink them back. “He didn’t do this,” I lie, my voice so low in the eery quiet of the kitchen.
Then There Was You (Twist of Fate) Page 16
