by West, Dahlia
Jonah raised his hand in acknowledgement before he ducked into his own space. The chair and the tray were just as he’d left them. Jonah washed his hands and dried them at the sink. Just before his shift officially started, he opened the drawer and checked his supplies: hollow core needles, alcohol swabs, tweezers, and forceps—everything he needed to make it through the night. He ignored completely the tiny velvet box partially hidden at the back of the drawer. He was a long way off from that, if it ever happened.
Jonah understood—almost from birth—that just because he wished for something, didn’t mean someone else would be there to make it happen.
Chapter Nine
The night passed slowly with Jonah piercing other’s people’s skin while simultaneously wanting to crawl out of his own. The clock seemed to almost move backward as he waited for his shift to end.
As Adam locked up, Jonah climbed the wooden stairs and fell into bed. Instead of sleeping, he stared at the ceiling. One of the things he missed most about living in the Stark house was that Sienna’s bedroom light had been replaced by the sickly yellow glow of a bar across the street.
He hadn’t slept very well since moving in over a year ago. He never realized how comforted he was just knowing she was sleeping a few hundred yards away. The miles that separated them had taken their toll, more than anything else. His head knew she was safe, but his body didn’t care.
His hands wanted to touch her, his arms wanted to wrap around her, and his cock… well… right now his cock wanted her the most. No one else but her. No one else would do.
Jonah wouldn’t jerk off, either. He would give himself no relief because it would feel hollow anyway. All he had to do was wait. He glanced at the clock on the wall, illuminated yellow from the window. Tick Tock. Tick Tock. Too slow. Painfully slow.
He took a deep breath and told himself to wait.
Until tomorrow.
Until he saw her.
Until she blew out her candles.
Until she opened his gift.
“Just wait,” he whispered into the dark. “She’s yours. She’ll remember.” He closed his eyes and finally went under.
By mid-morning, the sick yellow light was replaced by bright, burning yellow. The sun was already out and the day was heating up. Jonah was heating up, too, in anticipation, so he turned the shower on lukewarm and washed his hair quickly.
He dressed even quicker, no frills, not today. Just a T-shirt and jeans and his heavy boots. He slid open the dresser drawer and pulled out her present. It was wrapped in silver paper, wrapped three times to be exact, because Jonah had never wrapped a damn thing in his life, but he was determined that everything be as close to perfect as he could get it.
In his mind it would counterbalance the value of the ultimate offering—himself—which wasn’t worth much by anyone’s estimation. He trod downstairs and slipped the box into the saddlebag of his Harley. It just barely fit and he cinched the flap tight. He patted the extra helmet he’d bought where it hung on the opposite side.
He straddled the bike and fired up the engine. He rolled out of the back lot of Stark Ink and turned onto the cross street. His entire future stretched out before him like the road under his tires. It was hard to stick to the speed limit.
He passed parked cars on both sides of the street and slid into the Stark driveway in less than ten minutes. He twisted the keys and killed the engine. The package had survived and he took it and the extra helmet up the steps to the front door. It was unlocked and he ducked inside.
He heard the voices immediately. They were gathered out back, his entire family and Sienna. There was music and laughter, and an unbidden smile crossed his lips as he made for the sliding back door.
Calla got to it first, from the other side. She opened it and tried to step through but stopped short when she saw him. Her eyes widened. “Jonah? Are you… What are you doing here?” She glanced back over her shoulder to the small group outside. “It’s Sienna’s birthday party,” she informed him.
“I know,” he told her.
Her hands fluttered to her belly. She was just starting to show. Jonah thought it looked good on her. He secretly hoped for one of his own.
“My invitation probably got lost in the mail,” he added.
Calla’s jaw dropped and she paled. “Jonah, I’m sorry. I didn’t think—”
He laughed and held up his free hand. “Relax,” he said. “I’m messing with you.”
His sister-in-law stared at him as though seeing him for the first time. Jonah thought that, in some ways, she was. He couldn’t begrudge her surprise.
“I’m here for Sienna,” he declared.
Calla smiled awkwardly and nodded. “Well, that’s nice. That you’ve stopped by.”
“Yeah.” Not exactly what he’d meant by that, but Calla would understand in time. They all would. He moved to the side and let her come into the kitchen.
“I have cake,” she told him.
“Sienna likes it marbled,” he mused. “Because she can’t decide between chocolate and vanilla. That way she never has to choose.”
Calla’s brows knitted together again and he laughed again in spite of himself.
“It’s vanilla,” she said quietly. “I didn’t know.”
Jonah grinned and shook his head. “She’ll love it anyway. Just that you made it is enough, really. Even if it’s terrible, she’ll never show it. Not that it’ll be terrible,” he added, not wanting to insult her. “It’s just… that’s how Sienna is.”
Calla nodded slowly, eyeing him warily.
She is sharp, that one, Jonah thought. Adam lucked out when Calla agreed to marry him.
“She’s a nice girl, Jonah,” Calla told him carefully.
“I know it. I’ve always known that. There’s no other girl in the world quite like her.” He turned and grabbed the handle of the door.
“Her boyfriend probably thinks so, too!” Calla called after him.
Jonah didn’t turn back. “Well, he’s not going to be her boyfriend after today. So I don’t really give a shit.” He opened the door and closed it behind him.
“Oh, God!” Calla cried out just as the door snicked shut.
The group was small, but it seemed that everyone had brought a gift. The picnic table off to the side had a good number of them on display. Jonah moved to it and carefully set the helmet down at the back where it was out of the way. He turned it so that the present peeking out couldn’t be seen by anyone.
Adam and Dalton were chatting across the lawn. As soon as Adam saw him, he paused, red Solo cup in hand. He eyed Jonah the same way his wife had done just minutes before.
Yep, they were a pair.
Before anyone who might have been surprised by Jonah’s presence could notice or comment on it, the back door burst open and Calla shot through it. She balanced the cake in her hands, tilting it precariously. She’d obviously hastily shoved the candles in and bolted out into the yard. What she thought she was going to do to stop Jonah was anyone’s guess. Jonah was heartened that she would try, though.
He doubted Calla had any special affinity for Sienna’s boyfriend, but she clearly didn’t want Sienna’s day ruined. Neither did Jonah. He’d never let that happen.
He smiled and shrugged, staying off to the side.
Calla stalked toward him, giving him the evil eye.
“Oh, you didn’t have to do this, Calla!” Sienna declared, breaking his sister-in-law’s gaze.
Calla smiled at the girl and patted her on the arm. “Oh, it was no trouble.” She glanced over her shoulder at Jonah. “No trouble at all.”
Everyone gathered behind Sienna and sang. Jonah didn’t sing because no one should have that inflicted upon them. He smiled, even though Sienna hadn’t noticed his presence yet.
“Okay, blow them out!” Zoey cried, wrestling little DJ who apparently thought it was his birthday, too.
Sienna hesitated and looked around. Her eyes finally fell upon Jonah and she sucked in a breat
h. She looked away quickly, cheeks flushing. She no doubt remembered what he’d said to her yesterday.
“You okay?” Ava asked.
Sienna frowned. “Um…my mom’s not here.”
The mood of the party was ever-so-slightly dampened. Calla made a sympathetic face. “Do you want to wait? It’s no problem. We can take the candles out and relight them when—”
“No,” Sienna replied with a sigh. “She’s probably at work anyway. Maybe we’ll go out afterward.”
“That’ll be nice,” Calla told her.
Sienna did a good job of making it seem like she agreed. Only Jonah knew the truth about how bad Linda’s drinking was these days. As far as he knew, not even Ava was aware.
Sienna’s eyes skipped back to him and he gave her a supportive smile. It was their secret. One of many they shared, actually. Jonah would never give her away. He would, however, make damn sure that Sienna’s mother couldn’t ruin her special day. And as she blew out her candles, Jonah caught a glimpse between the houses of Linda’s car driving down the road.
He was standing on the edge of the party, so it was easy to slip away unseen. He stepped behind the row of trees that lined the side of the back yard and walked quickly toward Sienna’s house. When he reached the back door, he found it unlocked.
He slid it open and walked inside. The house was clean. That was Sienna’s doing. He was sure of it. Linda was at the couch, rifling through a laundry basket full of clothes. He watched her pick out a shirt, probably something inappropriate.
Over the years, Jonah’s anger at the woman had fizzled into disdain mixed with disapproval. She never hit Sienna, never abused her physically. But Linda was more than willing to take advantage of her daughter’s desire to keep the drinking a secret.
Sienna cleaned the house, paid the bills, kept the household running smoothly. Linda preferred spending most of her free time in bars, always trying to hook a man who’d stay longer than a few weeks.
Jonah knew them all, their names and where they lived. Every man who set foot in the Rhodes house automatically went on his radar.
She turned and spotted him standing in the living room. A short scream ripped from her throat and she dropped the shirt. She stumbled back, falling onto the plastic basket, bracing herself against it.
It took longer than it should have for her to recognize him. When she did, a crooked smile crossed her lips. “Well, hey there, Jo-nah.” She stretched out his name like she was singing it. She righted herself and smoothed out her jeans with her palms. “What are you doing here?” Her voice had risen an octave, as it always did when a man was around.
“It’s Sienna’s birthday,” he replied evenly, checking to see if she even remembered.
She grinned, though, and nodded. “I know. I just got off work.”
Jonah frowned at her. Unless she’d taken up sneaking shots in the company bathroom, she had not just come from work. She’d just come from a bar. “You’re not going,” he told her firmly.
She blinked up at him, either surprised or unable to parse his words through the buzz. “Of course I’m going. It’s Sienna’s birthday.”
Jonah side-stepped in front of her and blocked her path toward the sliding back door. “No,” he replied. “You’re not. You’re going to text her and tell her that you’re working late. Then, you’re going to bed.”
He watched as she thought through his words and came to the wrong conclusion. A sloppy, sexy smile spread across her face as she moved toward him. She ran her hand over Jonah’s chest.
He gritted his teeth and stopped himself from shoving her away from him.
“Are you coming with me?” Linda slurred.
Jonah shook his head. “It wasn’t an offer.”
She pouted and batted her eyelashes at him.
He was revolted but clenched his jaw tightly. This woman was going to be in his life for a very, very long time. Jonah had a lot of incentive to make the best of a horrible situation, no matter how distasteful it was to him.
“Why not, sweetie?” She shook her hair out and thrust out her tits. It was easy to see the resemblance between mother and daughter, or the hint of one. Too many years of hard living had added more wrinkles to Linda’s eyes and mouth. Her hair smelled like Marlboros and her breath was ninety proof.
If Jonah did nothing else in his entire fucked-up life, he’d keep Sienna from turning into this.
He narrowed his eyes at her, hopefully chilling her with his gaze. “Stop. This. Now.”
She froze, fingers splayed over his abdomen. The edge in Jonah’s voice cut through the vodka haze. Her face crumpled and she stumbled away from him and into the kitchen.
Jonah watched as her hand fluttered over the handle of the freezer door. She hesitated, though, eyes flicking to him over her shoulder.
He sighed. “I can’t make you get help, Linda. Only you can do that. But I can stop you from hurting her today, and that’s exactly what I’m doing.”
Linda’s eyes blazed and she squared her shoulders. “She’s my daughter!”
Jonah was unmoved by the show. “Then act like her mother. For once in her life.”
“What do you mean? I’m her mother! I raised her! I—”
Jonah stalked toward her. His heavy boots thudded on the cheap linoleum. He leaned down into her face. “I see you.”
Silence hung between them, but this time Jonah knew he’d gotten through. Linda’s hands shot up to her mouth. She covered the gaping maw of her shock. Her wide eyes blinked rapidly at him. “You,” she finally whispered. “It was you!”
Jonah straightened and gave her a withering glare. “It should’ve been you.”
Chapter Ten
Twelve-year-old Jonah liked PlayStation. Twelve-year-old Jonah liked skateboarding and sometimes sneaking cigarettes off older kids. Twelve-year-old Jonah did not like fishing. He’d never caught a fish, never wanted to catch a fish, never wanted to eat a fish, frankly, if he could help it.
He’d lived with the Starks for two years—longer than he’d lived anywhere, actually. And they weren’t bad people, he had to admit. But this new idea that Mr. Stark had, to go into the woods, the actual woods, and put flies on hooks and throw them into the water was not Jonah’s idea of a good time.
The old man had been making a concerted effort to spend more time with Jonah, which Jonah didn’t give a shit about, but pretended to, because the dude was an okay guy.
He had a Harley and he let Jonah turn a wrench a time or two on it. Jonah had hoped that would earn him a chance to drive it, but Mr. Stark had said no. He’d said Jonah was too young. Jonah pointed out that, at twelve, he was only a few inches shorter than Mr. Stark, but Mr. Stark wasn’t having it.
The Starks were very into rules.
And fishing.
Apparently.
Jonah stood in the driveway while the old man checked and re-checked their gear before closing the tailgate of his old truck. He thought maybe the weather would turn to shit, but the sky was clear blue and bright. He could probably fake a stomachache, and was actually about to, but the look on the old man’s face stopped him.
Jonah, surprisingly, didn’t want to disappoint the old man.
He’d never hit Jonah, or raised his voice, well, except that one time that Jonah left his skateboard at the bottom of the garage step and Mr. Stark fell over it. But still, he’d never struck Jonah or come into his room at night, and for both of those things, Jonah could endure standing in knee-deep water while torturing flies.
“Here,” said the old man, passing him something yellow and fuzzy. “Made this one for you.”
Jonah took it and frowned at it. He turned it over in his fingers.
“Careful,” Mr. Stark warned. “It’s sharp.”
“What is it?” Jonah asked.
“What do you mean ‘what is it’? It’s a fly.”
“Huh?”
“A fly! We’re going fly-fishing, aren’t we?”
Jonah scanned the fuzzy thing agai
n and didn’t see anything vaguely organic on it. “Oh,” he said. “So… no real flies, then.”
The old man peered at him as though he was unsure if Jonah was making a joke. “No,” he said slowly. “No real flies.”
Well, that was kind of a relief to Jonah. “Okay,” he said. No matter how boring it was, they couldn’t fish all day. Who could fish all day?
“Got another surprise for you,” Mr. Stark declared.
Jonah looked up at him. “What?”
The old man grinned. “You’ll see,” he said and turned to the truck.
“But what?” Jonah insisted.
The old man didn’t answer.
“The Necronomicon?” Jonah ventured. “H.P. Lovecraft? You’ll finally let me read it?”
“Just get in the truck.”
Jonah balked, though. Because he’d much rather take that book and disappear into his room for the whole weekend instead of fishing at a cabin with no electricity.
“Come on,” the old man urged. “We’re burning daylight.”
Jonah finally gave in and pulled open the passenger-side door. He settled into the seat next to Mr. Stark and they pulled out of the driveway.
“We need gas,” he told Jonah. “We’ll stop at The Corner.”
The Corner was actually two turns and two corners away, but everyone always called it The Corner. When Mr. Stark pulled up to the pump, he handed Jonah a ten-dollar bill from his wallet. “Get us some drinks,” he suggested. “And some snacks, too.”
Jonah nodded, off on his mission, and left Mr. Stark to pump the gas. The inside of the gas station was cool and air conditioned, everything the cabin wouldn’t be, but Jonah tried not to dwell on it. He opened a refrigerator and pulled out two Cokes.
As the door shut, he thought he caught a glimpse of a familiar figure in the glass. He turned to find the source of the reflection and saw Sienna already ducking away from him.
“Hey!” he called out to her.
She heard him, he knew she had, because she turned back for a second. Her eyes were wide and she looked panicked. She turned away and started for the door. She had a huge bag with her, a backpack that looked stuffed to the gills. Or maybe it just appeared that way because Sienna was only nine and everything looked big on her.
