What in the good fuck?
Her head shook back and forth again in quick little jerks. “No.” The word was murmured, barely audible.
I’d have missed it if I hadn’t been right beside her. “Hey. Hey, breathe. It’s just a ride to the hospital.” She’d taken the pain of the injury like a goddamned champion, but once the paramedics hit the door, her eyes welled.
A lone tear slid down her cheek.
I caught myself before I reached out to wipe it away. I wanted to comfort her, tell her it was okay, but I could see any words would have no impact at this point. Where was the spitfire who was with me just a second ago?
The medics approached us, and on instinct, I scooted forward in front of her. Without touching her, I put my arm across her, resting my hand by her thigh. I kept my upper body between her and the paramedics.
One of the medics looked at me and nodded to her. “She with you, sir?”
“No. I helped her out from the leg press and got her up here. She thinks it’s a hyperextension. Right knee. Her name’s Valentina.”
“Toni,” Todd corrected quickly from behind the desk. “Her name’s Toni.”
The paramedic nodded and turned to her. “Toni. Can I take a look at that?”
I turned all the way around to face her before moving. Trembling turned to shaking and she dropped her chin to her chest. Her complete shutdown was breaking my fucking heart.
“Hey, hey. Bleib bei mir, stay with me, Sparky,” I spoke softly to her. “Let him take a look, all right?”
Her eyes snapped to mine, and some sort of recognition or focus or something seemed to register. She glanced at the medic, then back to me, and nodded.
What shocked me the most was while he examined her knee, her small hand fisted the back of my shirt. A lot unexpected from the woman who not five minutes earlier was ready to break my wrist. “You’re gonna be fine.”
I moved, and the medics got on either side to lift her.
Her chest rose and fell faster, but she remained dead silent. Not a word. Not a sound. All the fight, all the spunk, bled right out of her the second her ass hit the gurney. Her eyes stayed locked to mine the entire time they maneuvered her into a prone position. “Please, don’t let them strap me down. Please,” she pleaded, with me, her voice frighteningly low.
“For security, Toni,” the medic said to her, “we have to. I’ll keep them as loose as I can, okay?”
She bit her lip again, so hard this time I expected drops of blood any second. I wanted her to argue with me just to prove to myself she’d be okay. I wanted to knock out the medics for some fucked up caveman reason.
This time, when I rested my hand on her forearm, she looked up at me with eyes so tormented, my chest muscles contracted. “You’re gonna be okay. See you soon.”
Nodding to me, she held my gaze as they disappeared from sight.
Why did I feel like a dick for not going with her, for not at least making the offer?
The fuck . . . ?
I didn’t know this woman. I’d done what I could for her. But the way she’d looked at me—as if I’d been some kind of anchor. My gut twisted and I realized I’d been dead wrong. It hadn’t been the medics who had thrown her into such a violent shut down.
It had been the gurney.
4
Jaxxon
I threw my phone at the couch and let out the snarl I’d been holding back while on the phone with Chase. I’d been here a month and change, but still worked out of boxes because that fucker had me holding down two jobs—babysitter and lead designer. It’d been a bitch trying to convince Chase he’d have to trust my replacement at some point—the replacement I’d hand-fucking-picked when they’d made me partner.
I leaned back in my chair, pulling the top of my baseball hat over my eyes. Working on my kids’ weekend—total bullshit. But it was for Chase. Besides being one of the other partners in our firm, he was like my brother.
Sitting up, I flipped my hat around and looked at the sea of papers sticking out from under the blueprints on my desk. I had to get some order here, but it was gonna have to wait. The black spiral on a manuscript sticking out from under the blueprints caught my eye.
“Ahhh, shit.” My sister, Bridgette’s baby, her fucking magnum opus—her attempt at an erotic novel. Like, what in the good fuck was I supposed to do with this? She wanted the “male perspective” and only trusted me to be honest. If she sucked, she knew I’d tell her, and save her the humiliation of hearing it from some big shot. But I couldn’t read my sister writing about shit I’d probably done a million different ways, and God forbid I found shit I hadn’t.
Oh, fuck no. I shoved it in a drawer to be dealt with later, much later.
Out of goddamn nowhere, an image of vibrant green eyes and a soft, trembling body pressed to mine floated through my head for the umpteenth time over past weeks.
“Son of a bitch.” I couldn’t get Valentina—Toni, whatever the hell that woman’s name was—out of my head. Two and a half weeks since she’d blown the knee, and she still hadn’t been back at the gym, which, all right, I got that. Recovery time. When I closed my eyes, though, her haunted gaze, pale face, and her swollen bottom lip were all I saw. I hoped she was recovering okay.
“Daddy?” Jessa’s sweet voice came from just outside my office, pulling me out of thoughts I had no business even thinking.
“Yeah, Jess.” I leaned back in my chair and turned my head to the door as she peeked around it. “What’cha doin’, kid?”
She sauntered into my office with Ari on her heels. The dog never left her alone, and I thanked God for it. That was why I’d bought her a golden . . . they loved kids and were loyal as hell. Jess missed him as much as he missed her.
Over the past year, I’d watched the gleam in my daughter’s eyes go out, and every time I saw the loss of it, I wanted to break shit. At least Ari could still make her smile.
“Are you done yet?” Grunting, she wiggled in between me and the desk, pushed my chair back, and jumped on my lap.
“Ugh, Jess. You gain weight since Wednesday?”
She giggled and punched me in the chest. “You’re not funny.”
“I’m totally funny.” I wrapped my arms around my daughter. Hard transition from tucking my kids in every night to seeing them every other weekend and Wednesday nights. Before the move, my ex and I had a system locked down. I saw them whenever I wanted and ran them to school every morning.
Jess wedged the top of her head under my chin and settled in like she used to when she was little.
Shattered my motherfucking soul. “Your movie over?”
A long sigh warmed my t-shirt. “Yeah.” She played with my ponytail. “You have prettier hair than most girls, Dad. Prettier than mine.”
I ran a hand over her head and down to the end of her braid. “Not as pretty as yours, sweetheart. Besides, you’ve got my hair, so of course it’s gorgeous.”
She sat up, holding the bulk of my hair in her small hand. “Thank you for doing this with me, Dad. A year and a half more.”
“I know, honey. Should be pretty long by then.”
As she twirled my hair between her fingers, a ghost of a smile crossed her lips. “I think Sarah would be happy we’re doing this, especially that you’re doing it with me. I think that would make her happy.”
“I think she’d be proud of you, Jess.”
Sarah was my daughter’s best friend since they were old enough to crawl. Born on the same fuckin’ day. Sarah’s family lived next door to us. Her and Jess were inseparable. At six and a half, Sarah contracted a rare form of leukemia. She passed away after the girls’ eighth birthday.
After Sarah’s death, Jess somehow found out about Locks of Love, and that was that. My daughter was on a mission to do something for other little girls suffering from cancer. She decided right then to grow her hair out and cut it every three years. Since my hair grows fast, she asked me if I’d do it with her, and I wasn’t sayin’ no to my baby girl. Do
n’t think I’ve ever been prouder of my daughter than I was that day.
I nudged her chin with a finger. “Little longer, then we go. Okay?”
“Don’t you go without me. Wait for me.” She frowned and put out her pinky finger. “Promise.”
“Pinky swear. You and me.”
She settled back down under my chin as Ari jumped up on her legs. “Ariel, down!” Jessa ordered with a firm tone. “You’re not supposed to jump on people.”
I chuckled. My little dictator. “Cut him some slack, he just misses you.”
Pulling back, she faced me. “You can’t let Ariel jump, even with us. He’ll do it with other people too. Mommy says you’re too soft on him.”
Of course she does.
“Well. At my house, with me, you and Bray, we’ll let him do his thing, because he misses you guys. I’m bigger than he is, so if we have company, I’ll let him know who’s boss and he’ll get in line. Cool?”
“It doesn’t work that way.” The eye roll and exaggerated sigh was all her mother. “And besides, you’re bigger than everyone.”
I tugged on her hair. “So now you’re saying I’ve gained weight?”
Her mouth dropped open. “No—I didn’t . . . Dad! Stop kidding.”
The sound of her genuine laughter made my isolated world a little more bearable. My daughter didn’t laugh enough. Right after Jess lost Sarah, her mother and I split. Ten years old is too damn young to deal with that much emotional bullshit. Way too much pain and confusion. Broke my motherfucking heart.
I kissed her forehead. “Pancakes?” I lifted her off my thighs and onto the floor.
“Pancakes. Can I help?”
“Hell yes, you’re gonna help. You think you get to stay here for free?”
“Nice.” She giggled.
The sound melted me from the inside out. Loved that sound. “Whose paintball party is Bray at this weekend?” I asked, as we walked into the kitchen.
Jess let Ari outside. “Hunter? Dave? I can’t keep track. One of his baseball friends.”
Coming around to the little island, I patted the countertop and she jumped up to sit. “Alright, here it comes. Line it up.” I opened cupboards and threw pancake mix, oil and syrup to her. When I opened the fridge for the eggs, she gasped.
“Daddy, no! Don’t throw the eggs.” Her hands flew up in front of her and a high-pitched shriek pierced the kitchen.
“You’re a first-baseman. You got this. Heads-up.” I lobbed one to her.
She squealed and caught it, placing it gently on the counter. Chewing on her lower lip, she glanced down at the box and held her hands out again. “It says three. Two more, please.”
“One. Two. Good to go.” I shut the door, moved to the counter and patted her calves. “Legs up.” She lifted her legs and I squatted down to the island cupboards. No bowls. Shit.
I stood up and looked over at the three big boxes near the entrance to the kitchen.
Nice work, dickhead. Should have at least unpacked the kitchen.
Jessa’s shoulders slouched, she cocked her head, and she raised an eyebrow. “Seriously? You haven’t even unpacked the kitchen stuff?”
“I’m a busy man, kid. Give me a second. Let Ari in and I’ll dig through this sh—crap.”
The bachelor life didn’t require things like mixing bowls and measuring cups. I had the essentials. I cooked by taste and I barbequed everything. Electric skillet, mixing bowls, measuring spoons—amateur hour. But Jess loved pancakes, so I had to get my Rachel Ray on. I lucked out and found what I needed in the first box.
“Wash these real quick for me?” I handed her the bowls and went to feed Ari.
“Dad . . . ”
“What’s up, hon? Ari, come get it, dude.” I pointed at his bowl and he went at it like a Hoover.
“Are you ever coming home?”
My stomach twisted like it was a wet towel some fucker was wringing out. I closed my eyes for a second before turning back to my daughter. When I got back in front of Jessa, she continued spraying water on a very clean silver bowl. “Jess, hit the nozzle.”
She shut the water off, but kept her head down.
“Look at me, hon.” I squeezed her knees before tilting her face up with one finger.
The crocodile tears running down her cheeks . . . a knife to the chest would have been easier to take.
Man up, fucker. This is life.
“Honey, Mom and I tried. We did. Sometimes parents just can’t live together anymore.”
Her chest heaved as tears flowed faster. “But—but I miss you. I want you to come home.” She hugged her arms around her stomach, dropping the top of her head against my chest.
I wrapped a hand around the back of her head and blinked a few times.
Hold your shit together.
I missed my kids. I had no words for how much I missed my kids. It was like I’d had a body part amputated. Seeing my daughter, my little girl, break down like this . . . Fuck me.
“Don’t you love Mommy anymore?” she squeezed out in between sobs.
I let out the breath I’d been holding and framed her small face. “I’ll always love your mother, Jessa. Always. She gave me the two most beautiful gifts in my life—nobody can ever give me what she did. Mom and I were together for a long time. I was only three years older than your brother when I first met your mom. Loved her the second I saw her. But honey, parents aren’t perfect and people change. We’re better apart.”
What the fuck was I supposed to say? Goddamn, Leah—we were usually pretty good on the communication front. She should have given me the heads-up about Jessa being on edge.
Sniffles echoed through the kitchen. “Why did you change? Was it me and Bray?”
My chest muscles jack-knifed and I jerked my head back, catching her line of sight. “You and your brother are the best parts of us. You guys had nothing to do with Mom and I. Here’s all you need to know. Are you listening, Jessa?”
She nodded, wiped under her eyes, and interlocked her wet fingers with mine.
“Mom and I love you and Bray above anything. There’s nothing we wouldn’t do for you. Nothing. Our love for you two is infinite. That means it doesn’t end. It doesn’t change. That kind of love—the love we have for you and Bray, only grows stronger. You understand?”
She swiped at her eyes again and a small grin played at her lips. “Yes, Daddy. I know what infinite means. I just . . . I just—”
I hugged her and the wet spot on my t-shirt spread. “Yeah, sweetheart. I know.”
I held my daughter while she cried because her parents were never getting back together and she couldn’t wrap her ten-year-old brain around it. Couldn’t get straight that I wasn’t there to kiss her goodnight or that I wasn’t there to hear about her day at school, softball practice, help with homework, play catch with her. Since the move, everyday life had resorted to phone calls and scheduled “time with Dad.” Fucked. Up. Bullshit.
I didn’t blame my ex-wife. Shit, if anything, I was proud of her. She’d come from nothing. The woman had built an empire all on her own and ran it with an iron fist. Between her getting the business off the ground, me going back to school, raising kids, we’d taken each other for granted. Bottom line, we’d outgrown each other. Shit like that happens sometimes when you marry so young. Yeah it hurt at first, but it was a mutual decision and we were both committed to making this as easy as possible for the kids. We weren’t doing a bang-up job of that right now.
Jessa wiped her cheek on my shirt and sat back. “Do you still talk in your sleep, Daddy?”
My chest crushed like I was caught in a goddamn vice. The fuck?
I needed this like a hole in the head. I usually slept like the goddamned dead, but every once in a while, I’d been told I “talked” in my sleep—more raged like a motherfucker, according to Leah, and I guess my kids? But I didn’t remember dick. Never had.
“I’m sure I do, hon. A lot of people talk in their sleep.”
Her head tilted
to the side as if she were studying me. “Not like you do,” she said in the softest voice.
Enough with the heavy shit worrying my ten-year-old, for fuck’s sake. “Don’t you worry about your old man, Jess. If I do, Ariel thinks I’m talking to him anyway. It’s all good over here.” I winked at her, getting another solid eye roll.
“You’re not old, Dad. You’re younger than mom,” she chuckled.
I grimaced and put a hand in front of her mouth. “Jeez, Jess. Don’t let mom hear you say that.” Her eyes sparkled mischievously and she put both hands over her mouth to stop a laugh. “Mom looks pretty hot for an old lady, though, right?” I asked.
Her eyes widened. “Dad! I won’t tell her you said that.”
I winked at her and ruffled her light brown hair. “Our secret.”
“Deal. Pancakes?” she asked, holding the clean bowl up.
I hugged her tight before pulling away and holding my shirt away from my body. “You expect me to cook now that you’ve got me all wet and snotty?”
Her little mouth dropped open wide. “You’re so mean!” A wet sponge sloshed against my shoulder and Jessa gasped. “Oh! I’m so sorry, Daddy. I didn’t really mean to hit you.”
The smile broke before I could control it. I crowded her and she leaned back on the counter, giggling, hands out in front of her. “Did you just throw a soapy sponge at me?”
She sat up straighter. My feisty little bear. “Well . . . um, yes. But you deserved it!”
I shook my head and re-worked my hair back into a knot under my cap. “There’s a saying about payback, but you’re too young to hear it, so now I gotta show you, kiddo.” I dunked the sponge in the clear water and squeezed it over her head. Next thing I knew, I was looking at the business end of the detachable water nozzle on the sink.
“Jessa Viktoria!” I pointed at her, but couldn’t hold a straight face. “Don’t you do it.”
She snickered and pulled the trigger, spraying water all over me, the refrigerator and the floor.
Thrilled she was actually having fun, I didn’t give a shit about the cleanup. “It’s on now, baby girl.”
Phoenix (Flames & Ashes Book 1) Page 4
