“Oh, God,” I gasped, covering my mouth with my hands as Brett stood from the couch.
“I need to you pack a bag for you and the kids. Just enough to get you through tonight and tomorrow. I’ll bring you back for the rest of it later.”
Um…what?
My brain must have still been rattled from my Wild West wakeup call because he wasn’t making a damn bit of sense.
“Why do we need to pack?”
The well, duh expression he wore kind of made me want to punch him a little bit. “Y’all aren’t staying here, Kenzie. Four apartments were broken into and someone was shot two doors down from you! You’re moving in with me.”
I choked on a laugh at the same time the twins started jumping up and down screaming “YAY! Sleepover!” at the top of their lungs. They took off to their room, no doubt to pack their own bags, before I could get a word out.
“Are you kidding,” I hissed out once the kids were out of earshot. “We aren’t staying with you!”
His chin lifted and put his hands on his trim hips. “No use arguing, beauty. I’m not leaving here without you and those kids. It’s not safe.”
“Oh, my god! It was one incident. It’s not like this place is the epicenter of an underground crime ring. This isn’t Breaking Bad, Brett. It’s a perfectly safe complex.”
“A perfectly safe complex with a few additional bullet holes,” he countered. “Now, pack your shit.”
“No,” I answered defiantly as I crossed my arms under my chest, immediately realizing my mistake when Brett’s full attention zeroed in on my unrestrained boobs. “Hey! Stop looking at them!” I shouted, smacking him in the arm as hard as I could.
“Feel free not to pack a bra, babe. Won’t get any complaints from me.”
“We. Are. Not. Moving. In. With. You,” I sounded out every syllable, convinced he must have been a little slow.
“All packed!” Cameron yelled as he and Callie ran back into the living room, their cartoon character rolling suitcases dragging behind them.
“See,” Brett said with a smile as he pointed at the twins. “At least they know what’s good for them. You know, I expected more cooperation from the adult of the household. It’s a sad, sad day when five-year-olds listen better.”
My eyes rolled dramatically at his pathetic lecture. “I can guarantee those suitcases are full of nothing but toys.”
Brett looked over at Cameron for confirmation that his bulging bag was full of stuffed animals and action figures, getting a proud, “Yep!” from my son.
“Told you,” I gloated.
Brett’s eyes narrowed as he stepped close to me, his joking demeanor from moments ago gone. I could see the seriousness radiating through his gaze. “I’m not playing a game here, baby. I really don’t like the idea of you and the twins staying here one second longer than you already have. And by really don’t like it,” he whispered for my ears only, “I mean I can’t fucking stand it. The only way I’m getting a halfway decent night’s sleep is if I know for certain that y’all are safe. And the only way I’ll know that is if you’re under my roof. Now, please, for the love of all that’s fucking holy, will you please stop arguing and just go pack a damn bag?”
Well, when he put it like that how was I supposed to argue? I couldn’t.
“Fine.” I threw my hands up in a defeated huff. “I’ll go pack, but I’m packing every bra I own a.s.s.h.o.l.e.”
I stomped away to the sound of Brett’s laughter, making sure he didn’t see my smile as I headed to the bedroom and he tried to wrangle Cam and Callie into packing something a little more useful.
It was easy for Kenzie to put on a brave front around me when there was a way for her to keep me at a distance, but having lived in my house for the past week, there were certain things she couldn’t hide. Things that made me want to find the fuckers who had hurt her in the past and pound the ever loving shit out of them. What was worse, I was beginning to see things in the twins’ actions that made me downright murderous.
The evening after they moved in, Callie was drinking a glass of juice and accidentally spilled some of it on the floor. She immediately dropped her head and closed herself off. I couldn’t get her to talk to me for the rest of the night, no matter how hard I tried.
When I’d get home from work, dinner would already be done, the table set, drinks poured. It was a full on Leave it to Beaver family spread. After the third night, I’d informed Kenzie that she didn’t have to make me dinner every single night, but she was insistent. When I told her the least I could do was clean the kitchen after she cooked, she simply shrugged and told me she was just doing her part. If it wasn’t the cooking, it was the laundry, or the cleaning, or the yard work. If she could find something that needed to be done around the house, she was determined to do it.
But the moment that finally did me in was when Cam was playing in the living room and accidentally knocked a picture frame off one of the shelves, breaking the glass. I rushed over to make sure he hadn’t cut himself, but he’d cowered away from my touch before finally taking off into the bedroom he and Callie were sharing. Enough was enough. I’d had it with the fucking walking-on-eggshells routine.
Storming into the kitchen, I’d found Kenzie exactly where I knew she’d be, perched in front of the stove, watching over dinner like a hawk. It was as if she was terrified to let anything burn. Flipping off the burners, I ignored her protests and grabbed her by the wrist, dragging her through the back door and into the yard.
“What the hell, Brett! I’m in the middle of making dinner. It’s going to burn if I don’t get back in there.”
“Then let it burn, Kenzie! That’s what happens sometimes. Dinners burn. Drinks spill, glass breaks, accidents happen. It’s not the end of the world.” I saw those shutters of hers start to slide into place, and I knew I couldn’t let that happen.
“Beauty, you and those kids don’t have to be perfect, not here. You don’t need to do all of this. You don’t have to work all day, then come home just to start all over again. I moved y’all in here because I wanted you safe, not because I wanted a maid service.”
Her head dipped down in an attempt to hide the tears that were forming in her jade eyes. Jesus Christ, the woman was killing me.
Taking her chin between my fingers, I forced her to meet my gaze, trying to make her see how sincere I was. “I can’t stand that you, Cameron and Callie feel the need to walk on eggshells when I’m around. I want y’all to be comfortable. Twice this week one of the kids has done something by accident, and the result has been them running off to their room and hiding from me. That guts me, Kenz. I hate it when they won’t talk to me.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, those tears breaking free and making tracks down her cheeks.
Seeing her pain was tearing me apart. “Don’t apologize, beauty. Talk to me. Please. You can trust me, baby. I can help you if you’d just let me,” I pleaded, needing her trust more than anything.
“I do trust you.”
I couldn’t explain why, but those four words made me feel invincible. Reaching up, I brushed her tears away with my thumb. “Then trust me to be able to help you. Talk to me, Kenz.”
We stood in silence for a minute before she finally spoke. “Okay.” Her voice was so soft I barely heard it. “After the kids go to bed. I don’t want to talk about this when they can hear.”
I nodded. I could give her that.
Knowing what I had to do and being prepared to do it were two different things entirely.
I’d left Brett standing outside and gone back into the kitchen to finish dinner. The conversation around the table was stilted, and no matter how hard Brett tried, he just couldn’t get the kids to interact. I had every intention of talking to them, letting them know that Brett wasn’t upset about the broken picture frame, but I wanted to do it with just the three of us. Apparently, Brett had other ideas.
He stood from the table without a word and headed into the kitchen. The sound of cabinet d
oors opening and closing echoed into the dining area until he came walking back in with a small stack of plates and glasses. Sitting the dishes on the table between Cameron and Callie, he picked up one of the glasses, took a few steps back, and dropped it right on the floor, sending shards of glass flying everywhere.
The three of us sat in shocked silence as he picked up a small salad plate and did the same thing, breaking it into a million pieces before turning his full attention to my kids.
“Things break. Accidents happen. I’m not going to get mad at y’all for breaking something as minor as a picture frame. I can replace a picture frame. I can buy new dishes.” He crouched down so he was eye level with them. “I don’t need those things. What I need is for y’all to be happy here, to be comfortable with living in this house and with me. You two are more important to me than a stupid picture frame. Understand?”
Callie and Cameron nodded silently, their jaws hanging open as they stared at Brett with curious little faces.
“Good, now…” He stood up handed each of them a plate. “Your turn.”
They sat there frozen for several seconds. Finally, Callie dropped her plate on the floor, letting out a peel of innocent laughter. Cameron quickly followed suit. The three of them dropped dish after dish, until only one glass was left.
“Mommy, your turn,” Callie told me, sliding the glass my way with a wide smile. Her enthusiasm was contagious. Unable to deny her when she was just so damn happy, I picked up the glass and tossed it down where all the shards of broken dishes lay, letting out my own laugh as the glass broke.
It might not have seemed like much to Brett, but what he’d just done for my children was everything. A few broken dishes had given them a confidence I’d never seen in them before. He’d done that. And in doing so, Brett had given me a gift that meant more than anything money could ever buy. He’d given me and my children safety and security. I’d never be able to repay him for that.
After we finished our little Greek wedding celebration, I took the kids to give them their baths and get them ready for bed while Brett swept up the mess we’d made.
“Mommy, Brett’s the coolest guy ever!” Cameron said, his voice chock full of excitement as he styled his hair into a shampoo mohawk.
“Yeah! Can we stay here forever?”
I dipped a cup into the water and dumped it over Cam’s head to rinse the soap out.
“I don’t know, babies. But we’re here now, so let’s just enjoy it.”
After finishing their baths, I got them in their jammies, read Goodnight Moon, and was getting ready to tuck them in.
“Mommy,” Cameron asked as I leaned in to kiss his forehead. “Can Brett make me a burrito tonight?”
My chest warmed as a smile tipped the corner of my lips. “Sure, bubs.”
He’d looked at me with such adorable confusion when I told him what the twins requested, but after explaining how to wrap them in tightly like a burrito, Brett went into their room and proceeded to tuck the covers around their tiny bodies.
“Night night kiss,” Callie told him when he stood to walk away.
Brett stood there for a moment, seeming surprised by her request before leaning down and placing a sweet kiss on her forehead. He walked over to Cameron and did the same.
“Love you, Brett,” Callie whispered as her eyes grew heavy.
“Yeah, Brett. Love you.”
He paused briefly, and what I saw on his face made my heart beat frantically in my chest. He looked down at my angels, his face full of more pride and love than I ever thought possible. “I love y’all, too,” he said, his voice gravelly with emotion. That was the last hit the walls around my heart could take. They were done, crumbled down to dust.
The problem with that realization was that I now had to tell Brett about my past. Every sordid, ugly little detail. And I could only hope he’d still look at me the same way he did just then by the time I was done.
As I rounded the corner into the kitchen, Brett stood from pulling two beers out of the fridge. Popping the cap off both, he handed me one before taking a pull from his.
He pointed at my bottle with his own, “Figured you might need that.”
Putting the chilled glass to my lips, I sucked down half of my beer in just a few gulps. “You figured right,” I told him. “Just a heads up, I might need a few more before this conversation’s over.”
A smirk tipped up one corner of his lips, “That’s what tequila’s for, beauty.”
“Ah, yes. Because hugging the toilet and sleeping on the bathroom floor would be the perfect capper for this night.” I tried for light and joking but knew I’d fallen short.
“Why don’t we go outside? It’s a beautiful night.”
I blindly followed after him as he stepped through the back door onto his deck. I pulled my sweater tightly around me as I took a seat on one of the patio chairs, telling myself that the chill running through me was caused by the nip in the night air, not because of my trepidation of telling Brett the truth. But I wasn’t fooling anyone, least of all myself.
Brett sat on the chair next to mine, resting his elbows on his knees as he studied me. “You know, you can tell me as much or as little as you want, Kenzie. I’m not here to push you. I just need to know what I’m up against here.”
My brow furrowed in confusion as I asked, “What do you mean?”
Leaning back with a sigh, he reached around and rubbed at the back of his neck. “I’m gonna be honest here, so just hear me out. I know I said I was fine with just being your friend, but that’s not working for me anymore. I know you’ve felt this insane connection we have. It’s been there since we met, and now I’ve gotten to know you better, know your kids better…well, it’s changed things. You need to know that, from here on out, I’m pulling out all the stops.”
My heart pounded so strongly I was sure he could hear it. His brutal honesty sent my emotions into a spiral that I wasn’t sure how to deal with.
“I want to be with you,” he continued. “And I want to be a part of those kids’ lives. And I’m gonna do everything in my damn power to get what I want. I just need you to know that. Might as well start preparing now, because you aren’t gonna know what hit you.”
I couldn’t understand why he felt so certain, especially without knowing my story. Sucking in a fortifying breath, I prepared to tell him the truth. A truth that would, no doubt, send him running in the other direction.
“I’m cursed,” I started, and then waited to see his reaction. He sat there quietly for several seconds before finally opening his mouth.
“Um…oookay?
“Well, not like, an actual curse or anything like that,” I stumbled over my words. “I just mean…well…I—”
“Breathe, beauty,” he soothed.
Trying to rein in my emotions, I closed my eyes and inhaled a deep, cleansing breath. Then deciding to just rip the Band Aid off once and for all, I dove in.
I told him everything.
I started by explaining what my parents’ marriage had been like before I entered the picture. I told him all about their abuse, my father’s affairs, how they blamed me for everything that was wrong. I told him how my father said I was the reason he was so unhappy, that if I’d never been born, he and my mom would still be happily married. I didn’t leave anything out, giving him all the gory details so he could see exactly how bad it was and why I was so desperate to escape by the time Lance came into my life.
I told him everything about my relationship with Lance. How he waited until I was eighteen to pursue me, how he would talk about taking me away from everything bad and giving me the life I deserved. I explained how I fell hard and fast for the man I thought Lance was. I didn’t hide anything. I didn’t hold a single detail back about how Lance went from a man I thought would save me into someone so much worse than my father could have ever been.
The entire time I spoke, Brett sat rigid in his chair, his knuckles white from how tightly he was gripping the arms of his s
eat. He didn’t say a single word until I finished, but I didn’t miss that ticking in his jaw, or the way his whole body tightened when I detailed some of the worst of the abuse. He was wound so tightly, he looked like he might shatter at any minute.
But I’d done it. I’d gotten through the entire ugly story. It took what felt like years to tell and three additional beers for courage, but I managed to spit all that nastiness out without shedding a single tear. I was proud of myself for that alone.
Neither of us spoke for several minutes after I finished, and my discomfort grew to the point where I couldn’t bring myself to look at him, scared to see the disgust in his eyes.
“What made you leave?” Brett asked, finally breaking through our thick silence.
I kept my eyes trained on the beer bottle in my hand, tearing at the label as I answered. “I’d been planning a way out for a while. I’d been stashing cash away, small amounts he wouldn’t notice, you know? I wanted to make sure I could support the kids when I finally left. I needed to make sure they would be safe and secure when we left him.”
“But something happened.” It wasn’t a question. Brett’s statement told me, loud and clear, that he knew there was something ugly there.
“But something happened,” I whispered back, still peeling at the label until the shredded ribbons lay in my lap.
“What was it, beauty?” I heard the legs of his chair scrape across the wooden deck before he took my chin between his fingers and forced my head up. What I saw in those deep brown eyes wasn’t disgust. Not even close. It was anger, not at me, but at my situation. It was sorrow and pain. From just one glance at his face, I could see how much he hated what I’d gone through. But there was something else there as well, something I couldn’t quite place.
“He came home from work one night and I’d burned dinner. It was an accident. I didn’t mean to. But he was so angry. I tried so hard to keep the kids away when he got like that. I made sure they were never around to see him hit me. I tried to protect them from all of that. But that night, Cameron came into the living room when Lance was hitting me. He ran up to him and started hitting him in his legs, yelling at him to let his mommy go—” My voice cut off on a sob at the memory of my little boy running in to try and rescue me. My self-hatred returned in full force at the thought of what I’d made them live with for four years. Remembering that, the tears ran down my cheeks, unchecked.
Worth the Wait (Picking up the Pieces #4) Page 11
