Tempting Boundaries

by Carrie Ann Ryan

  A couple of shelves wouldn’t fuse their relationship back together, but maybe they’d pave the way to a point where Griffin didn’t hate him.

  Fuck. He should have told everyone about him and Miranda when he’d had the chance. The secrecy—if only for a week—had been the final straw. They were always going to think that he wasn’t good enough for their little girl, but the fact that he’d hidden it just made it worse. She’d told him that her mother was thrilled, but he wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

  Thank God Miranda was with him though. She’d soothed his wounds and held him when he’d wanted to flee. She didn’t take shit from anyone, and that was something he could admire.

  He turned off the saw to hear the phone ringing. When he looked at the read-out, he sighed.

  “Hey, Austin,” he said as casually as he could.

  “Hey.”

  The silence between them wasn’t as comfortable as it used to be, and the loss ached more than he’d thought it would.

  “I take it you’ve heard,” he said at last then winced. Smooth.

  Austin let out a breath, and Decker sat down on one of the stools. “Yeah. Yeah I did. You okay?”

  Surprised, Decker blinked. “What?”

  “You okay? I saw Griffin since he came over here to get cleaned up.” He paused. “No, he came over to tell me what happened, and then we cleaned him up, but we reached the same outcome. He looked like shit, man. How are your hands?”

  Decker swallowed hard, shame pouring through him. He could taste the bile on his tongue, and he shuddered. He’d beat up his best friend and then his best friend’s brother asked about his goddamn hands. Decker looked down at his bruised and scraped knuckles and ran his tongue over his teeth.

  “They’ll be fine. I’ll be fine. Miranda took care of me.” He could have bitten off his fucking tongue. That last part just slipped out, and now he was stuck, her name out there on the wind.

  Austin let out a rough laugh, only there was no humor in it. “Shit, Deck. I wish you would have told us, but I can’t be mad. Not when Sierra ripped Griffin and me—mostly Grif—a new one.”

  Decker frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “You two have been together what, a week? A couple days?”

  “Pretty much, but we still should have told you.”

  “Yeah, maybe. Maybe you should have asked permission or some shit, but even saying that makes me an asshole. Miranda, despite the fact that I try to forget it, is a grown woman. She can make her own decisions. The family and I have no right to put you through hoops.” He paused. “Well, maybe some hoops, we’re her older brothers and sisters, after all. But it’s not like you’re a stranger, Deck.”

  “Yeah? And that just makes it worse in Griffin’s eyes.”

  “Griffin was blindsided and acted like an asshole. I know he’s been having trouble with his book, and since you two are so close, he felt the sting on both fronts—not just you, but Miranda too. So yeah, he’s a fucking idiot, but he’s just the Montgomery who acted. The two of you will fix this. You know it.”

  “Do I? Damn it, Austin. I fucked up. I’m trash, and I’m dating your sister. Don’t you get that? Grif had all the right in the world to beat the shit out of me. What he didn’t have the right to do was belittle Miranda in the process.”

  “You know he didn’t mean it that way.”

  “Maybe. But he said it and I reacted. I just did. You get that? I reacted, and I bloodied my best friend’s face. At work. At your family’s job site. Storm told me to take off yesterday, so I’m not going in today. I have vacation days lined up, so until I can figure out what the fuck to do, I’m taking them. Storm and Wes will deal. They’re good without me.”

  The last words ripped from him, and he let out a breath. Maybe everyone would be better off without him there. He could go to a satellite job site out of state. Or he could find another job altogether. It would make it all go away if he was the one to leave.

  But then he’d be leaving Miranda, and he was too selfish for that. He wanted her, loved her if he was honest with himself, and now he’d deal with the consequences.

  It didn’t make it any easier to live with though.

  “We’re not good without you, Decker. Don’t you get that? You’re family, too. It just surprised us. Though, according to Sierra, it shouldn’t have. I don’t understand how she can know things before they happen. It must be some weird woman superpower.”

  Decker grinned despite himself. “I’m telling Sierra you called her weird.”

  “Shut up, ass.”

  “Love you, too.”

  Austin sighed. “You do. We all do, Deck. Just don’t hurt her, okay? She’s special to all of us, and if you make her happy? Well, then you’re the best thing that ever happened to her. And if she makes you happy? Then fuck yeah. Perfection.”

  Decked closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s been way less than a month. Stop getting ideas. Just let me breathe.”

  “You’re in deep, Deck, and you know it. But I kind of like the idea I think. So just try not to fuck up, and we’re good.”

  Easier said then done.

  “And since you’re going to brood on that one for awhile, I’ll let you go. Just give Grif some time. He’s an idiot, but he’s our idiot. Yours too. And come to the next family dinner. That will help things get less awkward.”

  “By getting the horrendously awkward feelings out of the way in one go?”

  “Pretty much.” Austin paused. “Speaking of awkward family dinners, have you heard from Alex?”

  Decker frowned. “No. Not since he told us about Jessica walking out. Things are bad, aren’t they?”

  “Things are blowing up left and right in this family, and I don’t think I’m strong enough to keep everything together.”

  It was one of the most honest and open things Austin had ever said to him, and Decker saw the open plea in it.

  “I’ll try not to help burn it to the ground.”

  “And while you’re doing that, if you could help with fighting the other fires, that would be great too.”

  “At some point, you need to let people live their own lives.”

  “I am, but I also need to be here if they can’t do it or figure out they’re not alone.”

  Yeah, that wasn’t too subtle of Austin, but Decker let that go. When things went to shit, he wouldn’t be going to the Montgomerys for help. If, and when, Miranda left him because she finally saw the truth of his character and past, then he’d lose the family he’d made forever.

  Miranda was worth that though.

  Worth that and more.

  “Thanks for calling,” he said after a moment. There really wasn’t much more to say until they all figured it out.

  “Be well, Deck. Take care of yourself, and make sure my baby sister is happy. You get me?”

  Decker smiled. “I get you.”

  They said their goodbyes, and he ended the call. He didn’t feel better than he had before, but he sure as hell didn’t feel worse. Austin was like that. The other man might not be fully on board, but he did his best to make sure his family and friends were taken care of.

  And Decker would do everything he could to make sure he never hurt Miranda.

  He went back to work, putting his all into his project. He liked working with his hands. It was also comforting to know that allowing himself to channel his frustration in such a way could result in something beautiful and useful for someone else.

  When the doorbell rang, he must not have heard it at first, but when his playlist changed songs, the sound of someone pressing the damn buzzer over and over hit his ears. Gunner barked in time with the doorbell, and Decker frowned.

  He wiped his hands down and made his way to the front door. It better be a fucking emergency if they were going to hit the damn bell over and over again. Anyone who knew him would just call, and he would have seen his phone light up to let him know they were outside while he was working

  He
opened the door without looking through the peephole then tried to slam the fucking door closed.

  “Boy, don’t you fucking do that,” Frank Kendrick slurred as he put his hand on the door, to keep it from slamming. Decker’s father also put his foot in the doorway so it couldn’t be closed.

  “Get the fuck off my property,” Decker said, his voice low, cold. He wouldn’t yell. That would only egg the man on more. If he was calm and collected, he had a better shot at winning this fight. Decker might be bigger, but Frank would cause a scene. A scene that often involved cops and lies.

  “You think you’re all high and mighty because you’re working for the Montgomerys? You’re fucking trash, you little piece of shit. You’re lucky they don’t see who you are, see the truth. Because as soon as they do, you’re fucked. Maybe they just feel sorry for you. That’s why they let you stay there.”

  The words hit him, and Decker held back a wince. He kept his face like stone, but it was fucking hard.

  “Just leave, Frank. I’m not in the mood to deal with your bullshit.” He looked into his father’s glassy eyes and held back a curse. He didn’t want to think about what his mother looked like right now. If Frank was here and already on a tear, things were bad at home. He’d call the cops, but what would happen?

  He held back a sigh. He’d call anyway. It didn’t matter if she pushed them away. He’d never stop trying to protect his mother from the man in front of him.

  “Fuck you. You should have come over when your momma asked.” Frank gave him that sly smile of his, and Decker’s stomach revolted. He barely held back the bile in his throat. Holy shit, he couldn’t stand Frank, couldn’t stand the memories that came from the large fists that held his door open. If Decker looked too hard, he’d see his own fists there. He would see the resemblance that made him want to run from Miranda and everything she represented to him.

  If Frank didn’t leave soon, Decker wasn’t sure he could take it anymore.

  “What did you do to her?” he asked before he could stop himself.

  A pleased looked came into Frank’s eyes, and Decker held back a curse. “She’s where she should be, you little fucker. Home. On her knees.” The man swayed on his feet. “Next time she calls, you come over for dinner. We’re a fucking family, boy. Those Montgomerys aren’t your blood. I am. Remember that. Remember the blood that runs through your veins. You’re not some high-class asshole who thinks he’s better than everyone else. You’re nothing.”

  No matter how drunk Frank got, he was always able to give speeches that kicked Decker at the knees. Maybe one day he wouldn’t let it hurt him, but Frank’s words sounded just like the refrain going on in a loop in his own head. That didn’t help matters. All he wanted to do was get Frank out of there and get drunk.

  Drunk like his old man.

  See? Nothing. He was nothing.

  Decker was done with this. He pushed the door closed with all his strength, ignoring Frank’s cursing. If one of his neighbors called the cops, it’d be on Frank, not Decker. And honestly, it wasn’t a new thing to have the cops called where Frank lived. It just hadn’t happened at Decker’s own place before.

  Frank cursed and yelled a few more times before stalking off. Decker hadn’t seen a car in his driveway or out on the street, so the old man must have walked from one of the local bars. At least he hoped to God that was the case.

  He went to his phone and called the cops so he could explain about his mother. The guys there knew the house and knew, too, that nothing good ever came from their interference, but hopefully they’d help.

  After he hung up, he felt drained and not in the mood to deal with people. What he really wanted was a fucking drink to forget everything. He wouldn’t end up as drunk as the old man—at least he hoped not—but he couldn’t stay at home and drink alone. Instead, he headed on foot to another bar that he knew his father didn’t go to because the old man had been kicked out and banned years before.

  He set his phone to silent just in case the cops called back with news, but he didn’t hold out much hope. He didn’t want to talk to anyone else. Most of all, he couldn’t face Miranda in his condition. He was looking piss-poor and feeling like shit—she didn’t need to see him like this.

  Yeah, just another notch on the long list of reasons why Miranda should just leave him and call it over.

  If he lied to himself, he could call what they were doing just sex and be over it, but he couldn’t. They had a connection that had nothing to do with sweaty bodies and the way they fit together. No, it was all about the way she warmed him from the inside out. She made him want to try to be a better person, yet he knew that couldn’t happen.

  He sat down at the bar, held up two fingers, and sighed when the bartender slid two shots of bourbon in front of him. He didn’t care what he got, at long as he got something to burn the ache away. It took another full minute before he realized who sat next to him.

  “You look like shit, bro,” Alex slurred, his eyes way past glassy. He didn’t know how long the other man had been there, drinking alone, but Decker wasn’t in any place to judge.

  “You look just the same,” Decker said then downed his shots. The fiery burn warmed him for only a moment before the coldness seeped in again.

  “Want to talk about it?” Alex asked, his eyes on his drink and not Decker.

  “Not particularly,” he said honestly then ordered a beer. He’d pound those rather than the hard stuff so he could maybe wake up the next morning.

  “Good, because I didn’t particularly want to hear it.” Alex held up his drink in a toast. “To not giving a fuck.”

  The other man drank his before Decker could hold his drink up with him. Shit, things were bad. Things had always been bad and just getting worse. He wasn’t sure how to fix it or even if it was his place to fix to begin with.

  All Decker knew was that the walls were closing in, and he wasn’t sure he could find a way out. Tomorrow would come, and he’d have to deal with it all, but right then, he’d just drink until the pain went away.

  If it ever did.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Work was starting to suck.

  Miranda pinched the bridge of her nose and tried to remember why she liked her job. She didn’t like it because of the people she worked with. She liked it because she loved seeing students’ faces when they got it. When they figured out how to solve for x, find that elusive volume of an oddly shaped image, or someone made the equation equal on both sides. When they got that, her job was worth it.

  What wasn’t worth it was working late on a Friday evening when the students were gone and the asshole in her life was there as well.

  The police hadn’t done a fucking thing to protect her.

  Not one thing.

  They’d taken her statement then took his.

  It turned out to be a case of he said versus she said.

  Seriously. Her face had looked like someone had bashed it into a wall because, hey, look, that’s what Jack had done, but there had been no physical evidence. At least nothing the police had looked into. Jack had gotten a warning, and his lawyer and money had gotten him freedom.

  Meanwhile, Miranda had to work with him every day. He didn’t come into the teacher’s lounge anymore, thank God. No, instead he ate at his desk or somewhere else so she didn’t have to see him. She was grateful because the more she had to see him, the more likely she wouldn’t be able to hold her brothers back from beating the shit out of him.

  Brothers and sisters, as she thought of Maya and Meghan.

  It annoyed her to no end that she was stuck in this position. On the one hand, she could blame herself since she was the one who had gone on a date with a co-worker, but she wouldn’t. It wasn’t her fault that Jack had hit her. It wasn’t her fault that Jack now lived free while she had to check the hallways before leaving her classroom.

  No, the responsibility lay on Jack’s shoulders.

  That didn’t make it any easier to stomach though.

 
; With a sigh, she went through her papers again. She needed to finish the evaluations and have them on the principal’s desk before she left. Her boss would be leaving the school in less than an hour, so Miranda had to hurry up. Thankfully she was almost done, but this was not how she’d envisioned spending her Friday evening.

  Actually, she didn’t know how she’d be spending the rest of her evening. She hadn’t heard from Decker since she’d left him the day before after sleeping over. She’d done her best to soothe his wounds—and some of her own—and then had to go to work. She’d called him to see if he wanted to get dinner, but he hadn’t answered. She left a message and hadn’t called or texted again. If he wanted to talk to her, he’d have to make the next move.

  She rubbed a hand over her stomach. That didn’t sound good. The idea of him not wanting to talk to her at all after what happened with her family made her eyes sting, but she didn’t cry. It was one freaking day. He was allowed to need space. She wasn’t a clingy girlfriend, but after what she thought had been a freaking emotional day and time on his kitchen table, she thought he would be okay to talk.

  Apparently she was wrong.

  She wouldn’t freak out, but the common courtesy of actually calling back would have been nice.

  She sighed then went back to her work. When she was done, she’d either stop by his place or just head to hers. She wasn’t in the mood to deal with a blow-up right then.

  It took another thirty minutes, but she finished then headed over to the principal’s office with her files and her bag. She’d head directly to her car and hopefully over to Decker’s from there.

  The principal was on the phone, so she set the forms on his desk, got a nod in recognition, and then headed back out. With a sigh, she figured she’d just go home and maybe call Maya or something.

  It had been a tough week, and she wasn’t in the mood to deal with drama. She could do that in the morning. Maybe he’d even call before then.