Love & Devotion

by Jove Belle

  KC bit her tongue. She had plenty of things to say about Jackson but didn’t want Trina to feel judged. Best she kept her opinions to herself and just continued to remind Trina that she now had a safe place to live with people who loved her.

  “KC, I know, without any doubt, that man loves me. As wholly and completely as any man has ever loved a woman. And I love him just as much. I didn’t want to admit that we were so broken, that a love like ours could be that fractured and tarnished. We just…cracked and split apart under the pressure.”

  No amount of pressure justified Jackson raising a hand to Trina. God help him if KC ran into him any time soon. She wasn’t confrontational by nature, but she’d stand up for her sister. He needed to see what a woman who was willing to fight back looked like.

  “I pushed him. Too hard. And he just couldn’t take it.” Trina’s hands shook and she clasped them together in her lap.

  “I don’t care, Trina.” She chose her words carefully. It would be so easy to rant about what a failure of a man Jackson was. Trina didn’t want or need to hear that. She knew better than anyone. “You have to know, no matter what you said to him, you deserved better. You shouldn’t be afraid in your own home.”

  “I know.” Trina nodded once, firmly. “I know. But I also know that there are two people in a relationship, and we both did our part to break it. He crossed a line, but I had a hand in things, too. You need to believe that.”

  “Why?” Her stomach rolled. Why was Trina so bent on defending Jackson? Love or not, at some point she needed to be able to lay blame where it belonged in order to move forward. “No matter what you say, I’m never going to believe that you earned a beating from your husband, Trina. Never.”

  “You weren’t there. You don’t know everything that happened.”

  “I don’t need to.” She was firm. Trina was her baby sister. No matter what, KC was on her side.

  “Well, it doesn’t matter now. I’m not going back.” Trina sounded sadder than KC thought she should. She was thrilled that Trina had left Jackson and would do anything she could to keep her away from him.

  “Good.” She grabbed the last grocery bag. Just a few more items and they’d be done for the night. She wanted to change the subject, distract Trina from such heavy thoughts, but her mind continuously cycled from Emma and Lonnie, then to Trina and Jackson. She circled around the four of them over and over. “Wait, does Jackson know about Lonnie?” Holy hell, what a mess that would be.

  “Probably not. We never talked about it.”

  “Thank God.” The last thing she needed was a jilted and angry Jackson shouting her business all over town. “It’s over. Me and Lonnie. I ended it.”

  “Good.” Trina mustered a small smile and stood. “I’m going to check on Buddy.”

  KC needed to say something, to be reassuring somehow. Every thought in her head sounded disingenuous, like an empty platitude. But she couldn’t just leave it. Trina needed to know that she was loved and supported, even if it sounded hokey. “I’m here, Trina. You don’t have to do this alone.”

  “I know.” Trina held KC’s gaze for half a second, then walked down the hall. She snapped her fingers and Berty trotted along behind.

  *

  KC fell asleep at her workstation in the living room. One minute she was grading a never-ending stream of essays, and the next she was being jolted awake by the sound of pounding and a frantic dog barking. It took a few seconds to clear her head before she figured out that Jackson was banging on the back door.

  “Trina! Goddammit! Let me in. I have a right to see my son.” He punctuated each word with a jamb-shaking fist against the door.

  Trina stood in the hall, just out of Jackson’s line of sight, shaking and crying. She held Berty in her arms, and the pup was trying hard to do his job. He barked and tried to get down. He knew he was supposed to eat the bad guy. She opened her mouth to respond, but KC stopped her with a shake of her head.

  “Go take care of Buddy. I got this.” She squeezed Trina’s hand, then let her go with a nod. “Call Daddy.”

  Jackson yelled loud enough to rouse KC’s neighborhood, and if he kept it up, Buddy would be awake and wailing right along with his daddy. Poor kid needed his sleep, not an angry man pounding on the door to get to him. KC dialed 911 and tucked the phone between her ear and shoulder. Then she pulled Emma’s shotgun from the rack. She was willing to let the authorities handle things, but she refused to wait helplessly for them to arrive. She fed shells in and waited for the dispatcher to pick up.

  Mabel Hawkins, an old family friend, came on the line. “Nine one one. What is your emergency?”

  “Mrs. Hawkins? This is KC Hall. I need the sheriff at my place as soon as possible.” Her stomach became as hard as a rock and a tremor ran through her. She was flat-out afraid. It made her sick to think that Trina had been living in the middle of that kind of fear.

  KC heard a window shatter, and Jackson’s voice rang through the house without the layer of glass to muffle it.

  “Hurry, please.” KC dropped the phone without hanging up and stepped into the kitchen.

  She waited until she was close enough for Jackson to hear the unmistakable sound of a shotgun being racked, then brought it to her shoulder. She hated shotguns. Last time she’d used one, she damn near blew her own arm off. The recoil was too powerful and she hadn’t braced herself properly. In this situation, though, with her adrenaline spiking and her hands shaking, she was thankful Emma had provided this weapon instead of a lightweight .22. If she pulled the trigger, no matter how much fear was running through her system, she would do some real damage. A shotgun had serious stopping power even when the shells were filled with rock salt.

  She called out. “Jackson, this is KC. You’re not talking to Trina tonight.”

  “You have no right to keep me from my family!” Jackson reached through the broken pane of glass to unlock the door. He twisted the handle and the door opened. He took two full steps inside before he looked up and saw the shotgun leveled at his chest.

  “You just broke into my house. I have every right.” KC was impressed with herself. Her voice was steady and the gun barrel didn’t waver.

  KC was a Texas homeowner. She could shoot Jackson dead on her Linoleum and no jury in the state would find fault with her. And Jackson knew it.

  He wobbled on his feet. His eyes were bloodshot, and he smelled an awful lot like a Jack Daniel’s distillery.

  “Sheriff is on his way, Jackie.” KC spoke softly and used his childhood nickname. She forced herself to remember that before he was her brother-in-law, he was her friend. That barely held her anger in check. “Why don’t we wait outside for him?”

  Jackson deflated. His bluster and anger seemingly drained right out through the soles of his boots. He shuffled through the door and sat on the long bench that lined the side of her house. He dropped his head into his hands and cried, shoulder-shaking, heartbreaking sobs. She sat next to him and shifted the shotgun to the side opposite him. She patted his back with her free hand and fought the rolling wave in her stomach. God help her, she didn’t want to throw up on her shoes.

  “I miss them so much.” His voice was muffled and weak. He was a long way from the proud football hero she remembered.

  “I know.”

  “She ain’t ever coming back, is she?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  Jackson sobbed harder. KC rubbed circles on his back, comforting him like a child and struggling to reconcile the grieving man before her with the husband who brutalized his wife. She’d seen the bruises and was living in the midst of the fallout. Hell, she’d been faced with his fury not five minutes ago. He’d moved from crazy with rage to total contrition at a dizzying rate. He was pitiful.

  “I fucked it all up.” Jackson rubbed his eyes and sat up. “But don’t think for a minute that I don’t love her. KC, I do. I would die for her.” His voice rang out solid and true. Alcohol and anger had no part of his claim that he would protect h
is wife to his last dying breath. KC believed him. But apparently that love ended when his temper was tested.

  “Sometimes that’s not enough.” She patted his back again.

  “She filed a restraining order.”

  “I know.” She wanted to be able to say something better, but she had no other words. She was torn between comforting him and telling him to go to hell. She could only imagine the state Trina was in right now.

  “Sorry about your window. I’ll fix it.”

  “Jackson, you can’t come here again.”

  “But I have to fix it, KC. I can’t just leave it broken like that.” Jackson pleaded with her, desperate, she thought, to fix anything just to show that he could.

  “I’ll send you the repair bill. You can make it right that way.” She offered the compromise. He’d never be able to mend his relationship by writing a check, but sometimes a person had to learn the hard lessons and do what he could, not what he wanted.

  He nodded and dropped his head back into his hands. “I want to be a father to my son.”

  “So be one.”

  “Do you think she’ll let me see him?”

  KC shrugged. “I don’t know. It‘s not up to her. That’s what the courts are for.” She sure as hell hoped not, if this was how Jackson normally behaved. “But Trina’s always been reasonable. You know that.”

  They sat quietly for a moment. KC heard a car pull into the driveway. No sirens, so it could have been her daddy or the sheriff pulling in silent.

  “You have to do better, Jackson. You can’t be like this in front of Buddy. It’s not right.”

  This time he was the one to say, “I know.”

  KC’s daddy rounded the corner and stepped onto the back porch, his .45 holstered on his hip. He looked from KC to Jackson to the broken glass, then back to KC.

  “I see you have things in hand here.” He nodded at her.

  “Hi, Daddy.” She felt a rush of relief. She imagined she’d always appreciate having him come to the rescue, no matter how old she got. She stood and kissed his cheek.

  “Hello, sir.” Jackson stood. He was slightly more stable than when he’d arrived, but not by much. How much had he drunk before heading over?

  “Sit back down, son.” Chester’s voice was firm, but fair and soothing. He was hurting over this as well.

  Jackson reclaimed his seat and KC took that as her cue to leave. She said, “Sheriff’s on his way. I’ll go check on Trina.”

  She left her father to watch over Jackson and went back inside. She stood in the kitchen for a moment and willed her body to calm. No luck. The adrenaline she’d been suppressing in order to hold the shotgun without accidentally shooting a hole in her wall rushed through her body and landed square in the pit of her stomach with a heavy thunk. She dropped to her knees and vomited in the trashcan.

  When she was done, she wiped her mouth, drank some water, and decided against emptying the trash while Jackson was still out there. It could wait until later. Instead, she ejected the shells and returned the shotgun to the rack, then went to check on Trina.

  Trina sat on the floor next to Buddy’s crib. She ran her fingers through his hair, petting his head. “He slept through it all.” Trina was no longer shaking. Berty was in her lap.

  “That’s good.”

  “I’m sorry,” Trina said, her voice small and so very tired.

  “About what?”

  “All of it.” She gestured vaguely toward the front of the house. “Jackson, the window, taking over your house. Everything.”

  “Oh, Trina, honey, you don’t need to apologize. None of this is your fault. I’m glad you’re here.” Where I know you’re safe.

  “My head knows that, but my heart can’t help but feel like I could have done more to make my marriage work.”

  She settled on the floor next to Trina and held her hand. They stayed that way until their daddy came to tell them that the sheriff had taken Jackson home. He’d file a report and let Jackson sleep it off in his own bed. Trina had excused Jackson’s behavior again and again, but was any part of her angry about him getting off with barely a slap?

  Either way, KC knew he wouldn’t be back any time soon. It’d tear her up if she had to shoot him, but she would if she had to. He’d learned that tonight and wasn’t likely to press his luck any time soon.

  *

  By the time KC cleaned up the glass, covered the window with plywood, and emptied the trash, it was past one in the morning. She took her cell phone with her when she crawled into bed. It was too late to call Emma, but she dialed the numbers anyway. She was emotionally wrung out and needed her.

  “Wha?” Emma’s voice was sleep-filled and adorable.

  “Hey.” Now that she had Emma on the phone, she didn’t know what to say.

  “Hey,” Emma replied. She could hear her smile through the phone. “What’s up?”

  “I miss you.” There was so much more, but it all boiled down to that one simple truth.

  “Did something happen?” Emma woke up a little with each passing moment.

  “Why do you ask that?” She found simple joy in sharing a quiet moment over the phone with Emma. She wasn’t ready to give that up by talking about Jackson.

  “Because you don’t normally call me at…Jesus, one thirty in the morning. What’s going on for real?”

  “Em, I wouldn’t have to call if you were here where you belong.”

  The hitch in Emma’s breath made her smile. It was proof that Emma missed her, too.

  “I want to be.” She remained quiet, content to listen to the sound of Emma breathing. She fell into time with her, matching Emma’s inhale and exhale with her own.

  KC broke the silence. “There are so many things I need to tell you. But right now I just want to be with you.”

  “KC…” The way Emma said her name caused an ache to bloom inside of her.

  “I know.”

  “Are you ready?” Emma barely whispered the question.

  “I think so.”

  “Make me believe you.”

  “I told my family about you. About us. Or about the us that I want.” She fumbled over her words. Emma had offered her an opening and she was fucking it up.

  “What did you say?”

  “I told them that I want to date you,” she said simply. There was no point in mincing words. She’d made up her mind. It was time for Emma to know it.

  “You do?”

  “Yes. That and a whole lot more.” She laughed. “I didn’t tell them that part.”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay?” She couldn’t believe it. Last time she’d seen Emma, she’d stomped away down the road, none too pleased with her. Now she was willing to set that aside and go on a date.

  “Okay. I’m willing to try.”

  “Really?” She didn’t want to talk Emma out of it, but she’d never felt so lucky. Luck apparently had a dampening effect on her vocabulary and speech.

  “Yes, really. Let’s date.” Emma’s choice of words reminded her of high school, and she let out a happy, relieved giggle.

  She recovered quickly and asked, “What are you doing tomorrow night?” She was giddy, and she didn’t want to take the chance that Emma was sleep-addled and would change her mind as soon as she woke fully.

  “You tell me.”

  “I’ll pick you up for dinner at six, okay?”

  “Mmm, but before that you need to come over and help me pack. You’ve neglected me long enough.” Emma was coy and forceful at the same time. KC liked it.

  “I agree.”

  “KC? Not that I’m unhappy, but is that really why you called?”

  She and Emma had a date. As far as she was concerned, nothing else mattered.

  “Jackson showed up tonight. I had to call nine-one-one.” She tried to sound nonchalant. She didn’t want to upset Emma, but she also didn’t want her to learn about Jackson’s drunken late-night visit via the grapevine. She couldn’t afford to be caught with another secret. Even
though she wanted to give herself a rest from thinking about Jackson, this was important enough that Emma deserved to hear it from her.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Much better now.”

  “Want to tell me about it?” Emma asked. Her voice was sweet and honey-thick with sleep.

  KC wanted to lie awake and listen to the sound of Emma’s voice. It comforted her, calmed her heart, but sleep was creeping in on her, like a black fog, heavy and pressing. “Later. Let’s get some rest now.”

  “Mmm.”

  By unspoken agreement, they didn’t disconnect the call. She fell asleep to the sound of Emma breathing soft and steady through the phone.

  Chapter Fifteen

  KC waited on the front porch for Emma to answer. The last time she rang Emma’s doorbell, they were both little. Given the tenuous new developments in their relationship, she defaulted on the side of good manners this time. She pushed the button and waited. It seemed more respectful somehow. She scuffed her boots against the painted hardwood and set the bag of breakfast sandwiches and cardboard carrier of coffee cups on the porch swing.

  It was time to conduct a quick hygiene check. She blew into her cupped hands and sniffed quickly. Minty fresh. Next she pulled out the collar of her shirt to check on her deodorant. It was working in all its powdery scented glory. Moreover, she could still catch the slightest hint of CKfree, her perfume du jour. She’d started wearing the CK line back in high school when Emma handed her a bottle of One and told her she had to wear it because it was her namesake. Sort of. It had been a solid recommendation and KC had evolved with the line.

  She waited an eternity between ringing the bell and Emma opening the door. It was still early and the temperature hadn’t yet risen above eighty. She started to sweat. What if Emma changed her mind? Not many hours had passed since their phone call, but the world could change in the course of seconds. A few hours was more than enough for Emma to come to her senses and realize she was better, deserved better—

  “Hey, you. Come on in.” Emma stood just inside the door, looking fresh and lovely and perfect.