The nerve of this fucking woman, to think I owe her anything when I’ve been waiting six years for an explanation of my own.
“Let’s be clear, Mac, I owe you shit,” I growl, peeling my eyes away from the road to fix her with a glare. “Word to the wise, sweetheart, you’re heading into dangerous territory. If you don’t want your kid to wake up in the middle of a fight, it would be wise to let this die. That shouldn’t be hard for you.”
A familiar spark flickers in her honey eyes and for a moment, I’m reminded of the spitfire who loved a good debate as much as she loved the fucking that came when the sparring was over.
“Then turn the car around, Bas. Take me and Ryder back home and be done with us.”
“I can’t do that,” I sneer, instantly regretting the admission.
“Sure, you can,” she fires back.
Suddenly, she unclasps her seatbelt and leans over the console, invading my space as she grabs the steering wheel with one hand.
“Are you fucking crazy?” I shout, gripping the wheel tighter.
“Maybe I am,” she roars. “Or maybe, I’m just sick and tired of being everyone’s doormat.”
“Get your fucking hands off the wheel, Mac,” I grind out.
“Talk to me, Bas,” she pleads, keeping one hand firmly planted on the wheel. The intensity of her gaze penetrates through me as her breath comes in short pants against my lips. Chancing it, I lift my eyes to her and I swear I can see her unravel before me.
“Got your kid in the car,” I remind her, clenching my teeth. “Now, sit the fuck down and get your shit together.”
That does the trick because the fire in her eyes quickly morphs to shame as she looks past me, into the back seat, at her sleeping son. Her hand drops the steering wheel, and she retreats to the passenger seat. Dropping her head into her hands, she releases a muffled cry.
“Oh God, I’m sorry,” she says. “I don’t know what came over me,” she murmurs, furiously wiping the tears from her face.
Not sure what to do with this version of Mac, I veer off onto the shoulder and shift the brake. Keeping my hands at ten and two, I bang my head against the steering wheel, trying to calm myself and figure where we go from here. If this outburst is any indication of what’s coming, Mac may be right about clearing the air and acknowledging the bad blood between us. The thing is, I’m not sure I trust myself to do that just yet. There is a vicious anger boiling in my veins and it’s taking everything in me to keep it under control.
“You make me crazy,” she says.
“I make you crazy,” I repeat, lifting my head from the steering wheel. If that isn’t the biggest crock of shit, I don’t know what is. “You were crazy long before I entered your life, sweetheart,” I point out.
“You show up out of nowhere and before I have a chance to digest the fact you’re back in the flesh, me and Ryder are in a car with you, and on our way to fucking New York. I don’t know how long we’re supposed to stay with you or if we are even, in fact, staying with you. I have no idea what happens now, where we go from here and I have a million questions, none of which you will answer because you won’t speak to me!”
“Nothing I got to say is anything you want to hear,” I tell her.
“Try me,” she dares.
The control snaps like brittle bone and the splintered pieces become piercing words.
“You want to hear the words? Fine, baby, I’ll give them to you. You ruined everything we had and could’ve had. That kid back there,” I pause, jutting my thumb behind me. “He should be mine.”
Her gasp fills my ears and causes me to clench my fists in anger.
“You want more? You want to know how I spent a good portion of the last six years picturing you in bed with my brother. Fucking him, loving him—giving him everything you were meant to give me. That after I left, I sat with a loaded gun pointed to my head and if it wasn’t for Mooney, I would’ve fucking pulled the trigger. Huh? Is that enough or should I continue? Maybe I should tell you—”
“Stop!”
Until a couple of months ago the only person who knew about my suicide attempt was Mooney. Then one drunken night, Dori showed up looking for a quick fuck. When I couldn’t deliver, I poured my heart out. It was a mistake and when she called me on my shit the next day, I told her she was fucking crazy. I made her think her mind was playing tricks on her that the drugs were finally taking their toll. I wasn’t as much ashamed as I was mad. No person, woman or brother, should ever have that much power over you. That’s when I realized, Mac wasn’t only the love of my life, but the toxic poison in my heart.
“Oh, but baby, I can go on and on. Why stop there?” I taunt.
“This isn’t—”
“What?” I interject. “It’s not what you wanted to hear? There’s a surprise.”
Done with this conversation and her, I turn my attention back to the road and shift the car into drive, hastily slamming my foot against the gas. The tires should’ve skidded over the gravel, leaving marks behind as we shifted onto the highway but none of that happened. In fact, we didn’t fucking move an inch.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I holler as I repeatedly smack the steering wheel.
“What’s happening?” Mac asks.
Before I get the chance to answer, the powers that be fuck me a little harder and a billow of smoke rises from the hood. Feeling defeated, I slump against the seat.
“Mommy??” Ryder groggily calls from the back.
“Yeah, baby,” Mac croaks. If there wasn’t smoke coming out of my ears, I might laugh at the way she stares in disbelief at the cloud streaming from the hood of my Ford.
“Are we there yet?”
“No, honey.”
This can’t be real life.
Any minute now, the camera crew will appear out of the bushes and tell me I’ve been punked. This was all a joke, a game show one of the fella’s signed me up for. They’ll award me some dope prize and this whole fucking nightmare will be over.
“I’ve got to pee again,” Ryder whispers shyly.
“You win, Satan,” I growl. “You fucking win.”
Chapter Nine
If I had a shred of doubt that Bas considered me the villain in our story, it was wiped away by his harsh words. I knew I was playing with fire by pressing him, especially in the state of anger he was in. Still, I continued to poke the beast. I think in some way I craved the pain. I told myself I deserved every bad thing that I endured. From the nights I spent crying myself to sleep to the beatings I took from Junior when he decided the shiny toy he stole from his brother wasn’t everything he hoped it would be. It was all part of the punishment and yet it never seemed like enough.
As crazy as it sounds, I thought in order for my sins to be absolved, the pain needed to come from Bas. However, I was wrong once again because seeing the torment reflected in his eyes as I listened to him pour his broken heart out, didn’t fix shit. I knew I hurt him, that what I did to protect him destroyed us, but I never knew what went through his mind after he came home and saw I was pregnant with his brother’s child. I never imagined my choices would lead him to have suicidal thoughts.
Picturing him with a gun to his head and his finger wrapped around the trigger, brought goosebumps to my skin and a massive lump lodged its way into my throat. For years I’ve been haunted by the memory of him leaving but now I know every time I close my eyes, I will imagine him holding a gun. I’ll hear his anguished voice tell me Ryder should be his and every night my heart will break a little more. Even now, I can’t help but think about it as I watch him talk to the tow truck driver.
After the car stalled out, Bas had a breakdown of sorts. It didn’t help matters that Ryder announced he had to go to the bathroom again. I was sure Bas was going to unhitch his bike from the truck and take off, leaving us on the side of the road but instead he walked off, hollered every curse known to man and smoked half a pack of cigarettes. Ten minutes later he was somewhat calmer and revealed he
called Mooney. He apparently got in touch with a local charter here in Pittsburgh and they were going to tow the truck to their garage. Another hour passed before the prospects arrived with the tow truck. Ryder and I rode with them while Bas took his bike from the hitch and followed behind us. I didn’t say a word, figuring he wanted to put as much space between us as possible.
Once we arrived at the club garage, they put the Ford on a lift. Bas looked like he was about ready to blow his top and I thought it would be best Ryder and me made ourselves scarce until they figured out the problem. I felt awful about forcing him to rehash his feelings and the more I stared at him, the heavier the weight of his words felt on my shoulders.
Crossing the street, Ryder and I made our way to a small shopping mall where there was a dollar store. I wonder if anyone has ever gone into a dollar store and come out only spending a buck. It’s like Target, you go in for one thing and by the time you leave, you have two wagons full of shit and a new credit card you most definitely did not need. Fifty dollars later, Ryder and I had our hands full of bags containing everything from snacks to toothbrushes. Aside from all the junk food and the crappy toys that would likely break after one use, I bought Bas a package of his favorite cookies and a new bandana.
A peace offering of sorts.
The plan was to give it to him and apologize for earlier. I couldn’t be sure he’d be willing to bury the hatchet over a sleeve of cookies and a cheap bandana but, it was worth a shot. Like it or not, we needed to learn to coexist, and I believed the sooner we were able to do that, the better off we’d all be.
Sadly, I didn’t get the chance to give him the cookies. As soon as we returned from shopping, we learned the truck wouldn’t be fixed until tomorrow. Bas’ bad mood amplified, and it became clear that any peace offering wouldn’t cut the bad streak of luck we seemed to be having.
The Pittsburgh charter offered to put us up for the night in their clubhouse but for some reason, Bas opted out of that idea, insisting we stay the night at a motel instead. Ryder and I piled back into the tow truck and the prospects drove us to the nearest one. Of course, Bas kept his distance and once again followed on his bike.
Now, here we are, standing in the parking lot of a Comfort Inn and I can’t help but wonder if Bas is going to continue to ignore me the rest of the night. Maybe I should get Ryder and myself our own room. At least that way he will get a break from us. From me.
“Mommy, look!” Peeling my eyes away from Bas, I watch Ryder swing his little legs as he tries to smack the tiny ball with the paddle.
“Good job,” I cheer. It takes a few tries before he gets the hang of it but once he does, the smile he sports lights up his whole face. It’s times like this when it’s hard to have regrets. My poor decisions may have cost me Bas and afforded me a world of hurt but they provided me with the greatest blessing.
“Hey,” Bas’ deep voice calls from behind me, startling me.
Turning around, I meet his gaze and notice he appears less agitated.
“Hi,” I murmur, glancing down at the bags he’s carrying. Along with his duffel bag, he has Ryder’s backpack and my huge tote in his hands. “Here, let me take our bags.”
“I’ve got it,” he says, moving his hand away. “They’re going to bring the truck back in the morning,” he reveals. “I figure we check in, get settled and then grab dinner. We should probably get some rest because we’ll be up early again. I want to get to Brooklyn before noon.”
“Okay,” I reply, shoving my hands into the back pockets of my shorts. Rocking back on my heels, I lift my eyes to his. “Look, um, about before…”
“Let’s forget it,” he suggests, cutting me off. “It’s been a long day.”
Raising an eyebrow, I draw my lower lip between my teeth and look at him skeptically.
“Bas—”
“Mac, I said drop it. Look, you were right,” he says reluctantly, adding a frustrated sigh for emphasis. “Like it or not, you and I are stuck with one another for God knows how long. We needed to hash that shit out, just like we need to find a way to get along.” He pauses, running a hand over his slicked back hair. “For Ryder’s sake,” he clarifies.
I’m not sure we hashed anything out. He got to say whatever he needed to get off his chest but, I was stunned to silence. My secrets are still mine to keep.
“Come on, let’s check in. I’m fucking starving. We’ll order food and then…” he trails off, muttering a curse. “I’ll answer some of your questions.”
That surprised me, and it must’ve shown because he rolled his eyes.
“I said some,” he mutters. “Two or three. Five tops.”
Recovering, I clear my throat and cock my head to the side.
“What changed?”
“What?”
“You don’t look like you’re ready to spit nails anymore.”
“You’d be surprised what the open road can do for a man’s mind,” he replies, looking over my shoulder at Ryder. “Hey, buddy, you ready?”
“Yes, sir,” Ryder says, jumping up from the bench he was sitting on. Hurrying toward us, he comes to a skidding halt between Bas and I. “I mean, Bas.”
Bas doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t move either, he just stares at Ryder. A moment later, my heart stammers when Bas reaches out and tousles the top of his head.
“You hungry?” he asks my son.
Shrugging his shoulders, Ryder smiles shyly.
“A little bit.”
“Let’s get a room and some grub, then I’ll show you how to play with that paddleball.”
Ryder’s eyes light up at the offer and while I want to smile at his genuine excitement, I also want to cry. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve watched Ryder look up to Junior and plead for attention. Most times Junior didn’t even acknowledge our son was in the room, other times, he saw him as nothing but a nuisance. He never took the time to teach him anything. The simplest things a father can show his son were always too much for Junior. It’s like he expected me to be Ryder’s mother and his father. I tried, I really did but let’s be honest, some things are better taught to a boy by a man.
“You coming, Mac?”
Snapping out of my trance, I lift my head and find the two of them standing side by side in front of the front doors of the motel. Too enthralled by his uncle, Ryder doesn’t pay me any mind as I join them. At the front desk, Bas gets us a room and pays cash. I also notice he gives the hotel clerk a phony license and registers the room under Conner Matthews. Knowing better than to ask any questions, I watch him take the keycard from the clerk and follow him to the room.
The second he opens the door, Ryder brushes past both of us and climbs on top of one of the two full-size beds. Giggling, he starts to jump on the bed and sends the pillows flying around the room.
“You’re sleeping on that one,” Bas says, closing the door behind him. He sets mine and Ryder’s bags down on the small table and slings his over his shoulder. “I’m going in the shower,” he announces. Digging into his pocket, he pulls out some cash and hands it to me. “Order some food. The girl at the counter said there are menus on top of the nightstand. I should be done before they get here but just in case, here.”
Shifting my weight to one hip, I draw my lip between my teeth and take the money.
“Only open the door if it’s the delivery guy.”
“Got it,” I replied, folding the money and shoving it into my back pocket. “Any special requests?”
Biting the inside of his cheek, his eyes briefly sweep down the length of my body before settling on mine. It’s unexpected and the first time other than when he made the comment about my breasts, that he’s looked at me as anything more than a pain in his ass. However, the moment passes quickly, leaving me flushed.
“You know what I like.”
I must be defective because, in that instant, I’m not thinking of his favorite foods. Instead, flashes of our past assault my memory, reminding me of a time when my favorite hobby was learni
ng how to please him in between the sheets. Thoughts a woman in my predicament probably shouldn’t be having.
Especially not with my five-year-old son watching.
“Hmm,” he murmurs, knowingly. “Red has always been your color,” he adds before turning his back to me. The old me would’ve given him a cheeky reply. This version of me, has no idea what to say or do and decides silence is the best option as I watch him pad into the bathroom.
I also take a second to appreciate his tight ass.
Groaning, I slap my hand to my forehead and scold myself for acting like a puberty ridden teenager.
I think I liked it better when he was a dick.
Chapter Ten
Peeling back the dated shower curtain, I turn the water on before stripping down to my boxers. I lift my hands and work the band out of my hair, letting the locks hang loosely around my face. Next, I reach for the elastic waistband of my boxers and push them down my thick legs. Kicking them off the rest of the way, I straighten my shoulders and step under the stream of water. Bracing one hand against the cool tile, I bow my head and let my hair hang in my face, obscuring my vision as I roll my shoulders, trying to work out the tension.
I lost my head earlier. I let myself get wrapped up in the moment and wound up revealing too much. Too much of my scars, too much of my pain. It was a weak moment, one I won’t be stupid enough to let happen again.
The ride calmed me down and helped clear my head, but I was still a ticking time bomb waiting to go off. It wasn’t so much the black cloud that seemed to be tailing us that made me crazy as it was not being able to control myself around Mac. One minute I wanted to hurt her as badly as she hurt me, the next I wanted to rewrite our past. It was amazing how one woman could have so much power over a man. On top of that, she could still turn me on like no other.
One slip of the mind, a little sexual innuendo and I was harder than a slab of steel. There was no denying she picked up the underlying meaning of knowing what I liked. If the blush that spread across her cheeks wasn’t enough of an indication, the subtle way she clenched her legs together sure as fuck was. It’s nice to know I’m not the only one feeling the effects of being thrown together. I’m also painfully aware that calling a truce between us was probably not the smartest idea.
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