by Jo Raven
What am I going to do with this gorgeous, stubborn man?
“How’s your mom?” I ask, letting my hand drop, my thoughts all over the place.
He flinches again.
Then he sighs, tips his head back, and in the harsh fluorescent light, I notice dark circles under his eyes. “Not so good.” He stops, and I think he won’t say anything else, but he rubs his face with his free hand. “Her short-term memory is gone. Most of what happened in the past few years, too. She doesn’t know who I am. She freaked out yesterday when she saw me.” His breath hitches. “She started to scream. The nurses had to sedate her.”
Oh no. “I’m so sorry.” I lean into him, slip an arm around him. “That sucks.”
He nods, his mouth unsteady. “Yeah.”
I don’t know how to console him. How can I tell him everything will be okay when it’s obvious it won’t?
“What’s on your mind?” I whisper.
“Death.”
I shiver and rest my cheek on his shoulder. “Do you remember your parents?”
“Yeah. They died in an accident, the same one that screwed up my knee. My brain probably, too. And then… then I was in foster homes for years, until Connor found me and decided to adopt me.”
“You’ve told me his name before.”
“He was a cop. A cool guy. He trained me to use a knife, and a gun, and in a mixture of martial arts. Wanted me to be ready for the world. But then he got killed in a shoot-out with a gang. Just like that, he was fucking gone, too.”
God. I don’t know what to say. He’s shaking, as if battling some great emotion, but his eyes are dry.
So I just hold him, wrap around him as much as the hard plastic seats allow us, until his breathing eases.
“This is fucked up,” he finally says. “I’m supposed to distract you.”
“You’re doing a good job,” I whisper.
“Gigi…”
“I like knowing more about you. Not,” I hurry to add, “that I like what you said. That they died, I mean. I’m so sorry for that. I…”
“It’s okay.” But he pulls me more tightly to his side, his arm heavy around my shoulders. “I know.”
And then the doctor comes out to tell us everything went fine, and that both the mother and baby are well and resting.
Little Bean is finally here, and Jarett is beside me.
When Merc rolls Mom into the ward a little later in a wheelchair, and we are told we’ll get to see the baby through the glass, everything’s right with the world.
Please, let it stay this way.
“Want to hold him?” Octavia asks, holding the baby out to me. She looks tired and pale, but she’s smiling.
“I’ll drop him!” I receive him in my arms anyway, delighted and scared. His weight is almost nonexistent. “Oh my God.”
He’s wrapped up like a taco in a blue blanket, his tiny, wrinkled face and his little hands the only visible parts of him. His eyes squint up at me, dark and shiny.
“He likes you,” Octavia says.
I consider this dubious statement. “I read somewhere that babies can’t even see properly the first few months.”
She huffs, closing her eyes. “Really?”
“But you like me, don’t you, baby-boo?” Bean is squirming in my hold, his little fists waving, and I make faces at him. “Auntie Gigi will take good care of you.”
Octavia snickers.
“We’ll be best friends.” I glance at her. “Does he have a name yet?”
She shakes her head.
“Bean it is, then.”
“Is Jarett here with you?” My sister is watching me carefully.
“Yeah.”
“Did you get the clues you were looking for, then?”
“I did.” I rock Bean a little. “And he’s been wonderful.”
Octavia settles back in her nest of pillows, smiling at me. “I’m glad. Love isn’t an easy thing to bear, and it’s much heavier when you do it alone.”
Chapter Thirty
Jarett
Never seen a newborn before. We’re allowed to see it behind the glass, and then Merc sweettalks one of the nurses into letting us see when she bathes it.
Him. It’s a boy.
So we’re standing there, watching as she cleans him up, again behind the glass, and fuck, he’s wrinkly, and ugly, and so fucking small I’d crush him if I had to hold him.
His dick is microscopic. Was mine like that once?
Shit.
Okay, so he isn’t all ugly. He’s kinda cute, too, I guess, and the look on Gigi’s face as she looks at him is… priceless. She’s fucking ecstatic.
That’s kinda hot.
Ah man, I’m totally fucked. Has to be the sleepless night, and the stress, making me think that the combination of babies and Gigi is cute, and hot.
Making me hard.
“Oh God, isn’t he beautiful?” Mrs. Watson—Maggie—says at some point and looks up at me from her wheelchair, eyes shining.
“Yeah, sure. I mean, yeah.”
Awkward.
“Sorry.” She takes my hand in hers and smiles. “It’s a mother/grandmother thing. Our children and grandchildren are the most beautiful, the best in the whole world, or so they seem to us.”
I swallow past a mysterious knot in my throat. “He’s not bad-looking for a baby.”
Her smile turns brilliant. “You’re such a nice boy, Jarett Lowe.”
I frown. “I’m not…”
Not nice. Not a Lowe, either.
But she doesn’t seem to notice. “My Gigi likes you a lot, and I can see why. You’re a heart-breaker. Not just because you’re handsome, but because you’re so sad. Trust my daughter. She will make you smile again.”
“I trust her. It’s myself I don’t trust.”
“Then you should. She loves unconditionally, my younger daughter. She’s bright like a star, with a core of dark and steel. If you love her, give yourself to her. Jarett…” She squeezes my hand, and I look down at her. “You need to make new promises. Ones you can keep, and that will make you happy.”
In the bubble I’ve been floating in since this morning when Gigi called, I nod, and it seems reasonable, and doable. Break with the past. Grab Gigi and walk toward the future.
Cut ties with the sinking boats, the wrecks that keep dragging me down.
But how can I betray them? They ferried me over to the other side when I was the one sinking.
Merc is drinking coffee and talking with a tall, blond guy who is apparently the brother of Matt, the husband of the sister who just had the baby. His wife is with him, a cute girl whose name I didn’t retain, as is an older lady who is Matt’s mom. She has brought two kids with her. Matt’s kids from a previous marriage?
I don’t ask. My mind’s reeling. So much family. Family who seem to get along, no less. Scratch that, they seem to care for each other. They’re all smiles as they pat each other on the back, as if congratulating one another for the new baby, asking for news and making arrangements to meet.
I never had any siblings, not before Sebastian. Or even many friends, moving from foster home to foster home, constantly changing schools and neighborhoods. I’m a lone wolf, and always have been.
Not sure how I feel about this. It’s like being in the gang, only these people don’t traffic drugs and don’t rob stores. They aren’t bad people.
They’re Gigi’s family. Of course they aren’t fucking bad.
But I am. And I don’t know how I fit in here. If I do. If I could.
In fact, it’s probably time for me to go.
I fish out my phone to look at the time and curse. I have missed calls from Angel, and even worse, it’s already afternoon.
Man. This can’t be. I’m fucking late for work.
Shit, just what I don’t need today.
Gigi is inside the room with her sister. I need to say goodbye, but when I try to go in, a nurse stops me and informs me the doctor is inside now, and she can’t allow any mor
e people to enter.
Last thing I want is to create a scene in front of Gigi’s family. They’re already giving me curious looks when they think I’m not paying attention. I can imagine what they’re thinking. A punk, with tattoos and a temper, hanging around our nice little family?
Fuck that.
Turning on my heel, I leave the maternity ward and the hospital. I need to salvage my job, and I need to talk to Angel before he gets so pissed at me he shoots me on sight.
And somehow I think I’d recover more easily from that than from losing Gigi, and isn’t that fucking crazy?
That I should be more afraid of love than death.
Go figure.
“Warned you, didn’t I?” Gus grabs the apron from my hands before I have a chance to tie it on. “That I’d look for any excuse to kick you out. Well, you’re an hour late. Fuck off and don’t come back.”
Dammit. “Look, it was a family emergency. I didn’t see the time.”
He glares at me. “What? I didn’t hear ya. I thought I heard you say you had a family emergency, and that means… what? Did you get the impression I give a fuck?”
I grab my jacket from the counter, my head pounding, a bitter taste in my mouth. “Forget it.”
“No, you don’t get it. I don’t forget.” He blocks my way, shoves at my chest, sending me back a step. “I won’t forget who you are, what you and your punk friends are doing to this fucking city.”
“Get your hands off me.”
“Or what? You’ll call your gang to help you beat up an old man?” He opens his arms wide, lifts his brows. “Go ahead, do it.”
He’s not old, the fucker. Just playing it up for the drama.
“Look. I’m in that gang to protect my brother. I made my mom a fucking promise. I’m not asking for your goddamn approval. That’s just reality, man.”
“Ooh, want me to feel sorry for you, that it? Want me to be fair? Why should I? You don’t deserve justice, son.”
“I’m not your fucking son.”
“Damn right you’re not. Get the hell out of here before I kick you out myself.”
Everyone shoves at me as I make my way to the door.
“Get off me.” I push them away, tighten my fists at my sides before I start throwing punches right and left. “Assholes.”
Don’t do it, Jarett. Don’t hurt them and get your ass in jail. Who will visit Mom if you do?
Fucking shit.
I’m outta here, but I don’t know where to go. The landlord is waiting for the rent, and there’s a gang meeting later on, but it’s too early to show up now and face Angel’s fury.
My head is killing me. I feel like days-old roadkill, numb and yet aching. Empty and yet about to burst. I guess it’s possible to feel detached from it all, and yet way too involved. It’s my life. Once more I think about walking away. Leaving this city, this promise behind.
But Gigi loves me.
It’s like letting go after holding on too tight for years, like being able to breathe after being underwater for ages, like being sick like a dog and then well again.
She loves me.
That thought carries me down the street and across, down a line of shops and through a line of people at a hot dog stand. In the gray light of day with the cold wind whistling around me, I can almost feel her arms around me, I can hear her voice asking if I’m okay.
When did she become my sanctuary? When did my thoughts of her become my salvation? This girl… She says I should leave the gang, and she’s right.
What about my promises? My promise to myself to keep my job. My promise to my mother to keep Seb safe.
I have a feeling that I’d break them all for her. And she’d be worth it.
We’re at the back room of the bar where we usually meet these days. The bar is owned by a friend of Mav’s, apparently.
Angel is talking about a new job going down in a few days, a big job, and everyone is shifting in their seats. So this is what Mav had been jabbering about the other day. This expansion of the gang.
This is much bigger than anything this small gang has ever undertaken, more dangerous, and there’s a sour tang in the air.
Fear.
I think of Gigi’s family at the hospital, how they’d stood close to each other, relaxed and comfortable with each other. With themselves, and their lives. I think of how fucking bad I wish I’d fit there, with them, even as I know it can’t be.
I itch for a smoke.
“Jarett.” Angel’s voice breaks through my thoughts. “What the fuck, man. Are we boring you?”
I straighten on the stool I’m perched on. “I’m fucking listening.”
“Are you now? And what’s it gonna be? Are you in?” He folds his arms over his chest. “For fucking real this time?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh come on, Jarett. You’re only here for your brother. You’ve said it too many fucking times to count.”
Sebastian is watching me, jaw set. I haven’t had the chance to talk to him since that phone call when I asked him to find Merc. There’s a challenge in his gaze.
I think of Gigi and her mom, what she told me about the past.
I think of my mom in that nursing home, and the promise I made her.
“I’m in,” I say, keeping my face blank. “You know it, man.”
“Good.” Angel’s eyes linger on me, hard, studying me. “Good, let’s go over the plan once more.”
A plan about drugs and guns and cartels and other gangs that sounds like an old Tarantino movie. I pat my back pocket for my smokes and try not to think about it too hard.
I’m in, because Seb is my responsibility, and that hasn’t changed.
Though it doesn’t mean I won’t try to talk him out of this, out of the gang and all this bad shit that’s about to hit the fan and rain on us pretty damn soon.
I’m in the kitchen when my phone rings late that night. I have the window open, and I’m smoking the last of my pack of smokes. Beside me is my last glass of scotch.
I’m broke, and fucking broken, and I don’t know what the hell I’m doing anymore. The phone rings and rings, and I give in and snag it from the counter to check the caller ID.
Gigi.
Anyone else I’d send to hell, but not her.
Damn.
“Hey.” I draw the smoke into my lungs, let it out into the cold, dark night. “What’s up?”
“Rett.” Her warm voice floats down the line to me, and it makes my chest tight and my dick hard. It’s always that way with this girl. “Didn’t see you leave the hospital earlier today.”
“You were inside with your sis. Didn’t wanna intrude.”
“You wouldn’t be intruding.”
“Tell that to the nurse,” I mutter.
“She didn’t let you in?”
I shrug, mostly to myself. “I had to run, anyway. I was late for work.”
“I’m sorry. That’s because of me.”
“Don’t be. I wanted to be there with you.”
And that’s the truth.
“You’re not coming over tonight, either?”
“I don’t think I’ll make it.” I stick my cig in the corner of my mouth, grab my glass and toast the emptiness outside.
Not a good idea for her to see me the way I am tonight.
“How are you?” she whispers.
I almost laugh. Oh, you know… Seb punched me when I suggested we leave the gang, called me a traitor and a pussy. I punched him right back, and we ended up all bruised and bloody on the floor, but it changed fucking nothing.
Then I’ve been calling around for jobs but haven’t found anything yet. Gus made good on his promise to make my life hard, and there’s rent to pay.
And Mom hasn’t been responding to the medication they gave her.
“Okay,” I tell her. “I’m okay.”
“You don’t sound like it. How was work?”
I choke on the smoke and start to cough.
“What
happened, Rett?”
Ah fuck it. “I got fired.”
Her sharp intake of breath strikes me as funny. Maybe because she finds this so terrible, when it’s just par for the course for me. I dunno.
I swallow the rest of my scotch, give the fucking world another salute and slam the glass back down on the counter. “It doesn’t matter.”
That’s what I tell myself, too. It doesn’t fucking matter.
“Was it because you stayed with me at the hospital all day?” she asks. “Did they fire you just because you were late one time? That’s not fair.”
“Nothing’s fair in life, princess.”
“Don’t call me that.” She’s quiet, and I can picture her chewing on her lip and twirling a lock of hair on her forefinger.
It makes me smile. How fucked up is that?
“Listen,” she says, “I had a thought.”
My smile widens. “You did? Don’t hurt yourself.”
“Shut up!” But I can hear a smile in her voice that matches my own. “I have to tell you about it. Are you doing something tonight, then? Going out?”
“Nah, I’m at the apartment.”
She doesn’t ask why I said I won’t go to her, why I didn’t call.
She just says, “Then I’m coming over to you.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Gigi
I’m done doubting Jarett. He’s shown his true colors time and again, most of all today, with his thoughtfulness and kindness.
And God, the way he acts with my mom, his respect, the wistfulness in his eyes when she talks to him… it’s not a romantic thing. It’s not sexy. But it touches me in a way nothing ever has.
It tells me I want to keep him.
Why didn’t he stay over? I thought after the connection we shared today he’d come to my bed. I’d hoped… yeah I’d hoped he wouldn’t ever stop coming over.
That he’d stay with me.
I stop the niggle of worry from growing too much as I hop into a cab and head over to his place. Last night he didn’t come over, either, and he was okay. Maybe he’s just tired.
Or he had gang business to attend to—and that’s another thing I don’t want to worry about. Not when I’m so happy that Octavia had the baby and they are both fine, that Mom’s ankle isn’t broken and that Rett was there, right there with me, with all of us. Part of the family.
