by J. M. Stone
I laughed and followed her upstairs. We went into the nursery, which had previously been a guest room. It was done up in pink and brown polka dots and was so absolutely adorable, as well as definitely baby-chic. Not even born yet, and already completely spoiled!
I smiled fondly over at Emma but my smile faded when I saw her rummaging through the closet in the baby’s room. “What are you doing?” I asked her.
She rifled around a bit more before she spun, yelling ‘Ah-ha!’ gleefully as she held a jar of peanut butter aloft.
I quirked a brow at her and said, dryly, “You keep peanut butter in your daughter’s closet?”
“Just my emergency jar. I’ve moved on from tacos to the peanut butter and pickles. It was cheese slices wrapped around pickles for a few days but then I had a peanut butter sandwich with a pickle on the side and some of my peanut butter touched my pickle and that’s all she wrote!” Emma said, leaning toward me like it was a big secret. Which it apparently was, considering the fact that she’s hiding foodstuffs around the house.
“Really, Emma? Pickles and cheese slices…Weren’t you the one who told me that was disturbing not too long ago when everyone was razzing on Allie for eating them on pizza? So, what about the pickles, you have a jar of those stashed around here somewhere?” I asked, jokingly.
Her face fell. “No,” she sighed. “Pickles have to be refrigerated and I think Luke would be suspicious if I smuggled a mini-fridge into the house.”
I shook my head at her and gave her a hug, smiling fondly. “It’s okay, Emma. I’ll go get you a pickle and we’ll go hide outside so you can eat it.”
She smiled, her entire face beaming with joy and we beelined for the kitchen, Emma all but dragging me along behind her. Moral of the story? Never get between a pregnant woman and her pickles and peanut butter…yikes.
We got lucky; Calland had shown up with a new flavor of the month, and Allie and Jackson, lured back by the temptation of a cookout and bonfire, apparently, were walking in the door so Luke was occupied greeting everyone.
As Emma scurried behind them, dropping to the floor to crawl behind the cabinets (which was hilarious…have you ever seen a very pregnant woman crawl on the floor?) I ran interference by hugging and talking to everyone in the living room, making sure to engage Luke as much as possible so he wouldn’t glance into the kitchen to see the refrigerator door mysteriously open and close on it’s own.
Allie, on the other hand, noticed. She opened her mouth and I hugged her to me again, having to almost bend in half to do it because of her belly, whispering in her ear, “She’s crave-obsessed and Luke’s being a pickle Nazi.”
She guffawed in my ear and then cut off her laugh so hard she choked. Immediately, Jackson was there, almost shoving me out of the way as he patted her on the back and frantically tried to get her to tell him she was okay.
She waved him off, but the damage was done. Calland had piped up.
“Where’s my sister? I want her to meet Legsy.”
Luke started to look around but at my frantic look, Brandon, even though he glanced at me like I’d lost my mind, started to say something to distract Luke again. But then what Calland said trumped it and he lost his train of thought.
“I’m sorry—what was her name? I think I misheard you,” he asked Calland.
Calland answered again, an unmistakable twinkle in his eye. “Legsy. Her name is Legsy.”
Brandon fought hard against his grin and politely held out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Legsy. That’s a very…unusual name.” (Luke was definitely distracted now. Good thing too, because I could see hands moving carefully along the counter until they connected with a plate, dragging it over the edge to disappear.)
She simpered. “Oh! Thank you! My Daddy, bless his heart, he’s not a very good speller. When I was born, see, he was writin’ the paperwork out for my poor, exhausted Momma, she said to name me Lexi. You know, like with the ‘X’. But her words were a little slurred, well, from the drugs and all, and it came out like Legsy. So that’s what he wrote and my Momma didn’t see it until a ‘lil bit later but by then it was too late. So that’s my name, Legsy. You know, like I’m all legs, Legsy!”
Crickets. I swear I heard them. That’s how stunned we all were, with the exception of Calland, who had more than likely already heard the story. We were all just staring at her, varying expressions plastered on our faces, while she grinned and…well…you guessed it. Simpered.
Where the hell does he find these girls? Good Lord, the boy has found some doozies just since I’d been in town, and I couldn’t even imagine the ones before that!
Brandon cleared his throat but still didn’t manage to think of anything else to say. Just then a muffled crunching sound, followed by a low ‘mmmmmmm’ sounded from the kitchen. I gave a mental ‘eek’ and opened my mouth to say something but it was too late.
Luke’s eyes narrowed and he glared at me. I looked away, a flush creeping up my face at being caught red-handed helping the pickle bandit. He reached out and snagged my arm, pulling me behind him after motioning everyone to be quiet.
They followed us, every single one of them tip-toeing as best they could. We all peered over the counter, Luke shaking his head with resign and a touch of exasperation at the sight before us. Emma was sitting on the floor, leaning back against the counter with her legs splayed in front of her. The open jar of pickles was sitting beside her, and she had the jar of peanut butter in one hand, dipping a pickle spear into it with another.
A louder crunch sounded as she took a bite and then froze with it hanging out of her mouth as she noticed her audience. She finished her bite, chewed slowly, and then, rather defensively, said, “What the hell are you shaking your head for, Lucas? It’s not a pickle butter milkshake, so get the fuck over it!”
Luke just sighed and went to help his wife up while we all laughed. There’s never a dull moment around here…
A couple of hours later, bellies full of perfectly grilled hamburgers and hot dogs and all the other requisite cookout fare, we were all relaxing by the fire, enjoying each other’s company and laughing at the antics of the dogs. All three of them had been chasing each other around the yard until the pups tired Doug out and he collapsed in a heap at Luke’s feet, panting and grinning his doggy-grin at everyone.
Grady and DJ followed suit, although DJ chose to lay on top of Doug while Grady clamored up into Jackson’s lap like he was still a tiny little thing.
While Emma broke out the s’more fixings, Luke caught my eye and motioned for me to follow him. I did, and Brandon, shooting me a curious look, did the same.
We walked into the kitchen and Luke turned to look at me. “Chloe, I hate to do this tonight since we’ve been having such a good time, but I don’t want to let it go without telling you. If I know my brother,” he glanced wryly at Brandon, “it won’t be too much longer before he’s trying to sneak you off.”
“Okay…” I said, waiting for the bomb to drop.
“This came to the house addressed to you. I didn’t open it, and I kind of hid it from your brother, too, because I didn’t want him to go off half-cocked. But this worries me because if it’s what I think it is, then you’ve got trouble. And if you have trouble, we have trouble,” he said, motioning to himself, Brandon, and the whole of the house, indicating Jackson and the rest of them even though they were still outside and clueless.
I reached out tentatively to take the envelope he was holding but Brandon snatched it away. I didn’t argue. A rock had settled in my stomach and was growing because I had a feeling that things were about to go bad.
But I had no idea just how bad.
Chapter 15
I stared at the envelope in my hand, turning it over and over and over but not opening it. I’d ignored it last night as best I could, tucking it into my purse and going back outside with the others.
Luke had hugged me before we went back outside and asked that I call him when I finally read it. He’d looked at me so seriou
sly and said, “Not sure how he got it, but he’s got our address because that’s where Jackson was. That’s what I figure anyway, but, babe…I got a baby about to pop out and I need to know what’s going on so I can protect my family. ‘Cause there’s no fucking way in hell that anyone is going to touch so much as a hair on the head of a member of my family.”
His eyes were the most intense I’d ever seen them, almost scary-intense. I’d gulped and nodded, the sick feeling in my stomach growing that much bigger because of the threat I’d caused to people that have been nothing but nice to me, to my friends that had become my family.
He’d leaned even closer to me then and made sure I’d understood what he was saying. “And by family, Chloe, that means you, too.”
I flipped the letter over again and stared hard at the postmark and the return address scrawled in the corner. The address and inmate number glared back at me, taunting me with the knowledge that this was from him.
“Sunshine, let me do that for you. Please,” Brandon implored quietly.
We were sitting in bed on what should have been a happy, normal Sunday morning, when we should have been getting ready to go to Emma’s parents’ house for Sunday breakfast. Instead, there we were. Quiet. Serious. And the sick feeling in my stomach had yet to leave.
I sighed and closed my eyes, shaking my head at him. “No, I have to do this. I’ve been pretty damn strong since I left California. I’m not letting him get the best of me.”
Without another word, I ripped the envelope open and pulled out the single, handwritten page. I skimmed through it and then, knowing Brandon was getting impatient, I read it out loud, my voice wavering and cracking with suppressed emotion.
Dearest, Ungrateful Slut,
By the time you get this letter, I’ll be out. Don’t think I don’t know where you are, because I do. I’m coming for what’s mine, bitch.
Don’t bother thinking we won’t be together again. I’m giving you a second chance to please me, regardless of the fact that I’m sure you’ve spread your fucking thighs for countless diseased pricks since I’ve been gone. I’ve got a bottle of bleach with your name on it so I can disinfect your nasty cunt before you welcome your daddy home.
See you soon, bitch.
Greg
P.S.-Don’t think your big, bad brother is going to save you just because you ran to him. In fact, I’ll be paying your mom a visit before I come get you. I’m sure she’d like to come see you, might make it a little bit easier for you to decide to be a good little whore and come home.
“MOTHER FUCKER!” Brandon roared, flinging himself out of the bed to pace angrily around the room. He raged, mumbling incoherently, his voice deeper than usual, and it wasn’t in a sexy way. His face was dark, murderous.
I dropped the letter and watched him silently. When his growling increased, I beseeched, “Brandon-” but my words were cut off on a gasp when he drew his fist back and punched the wall.
The drywall crumbled beneath the onslaught, a hole immediately appearing. With an anguished cry, he dropped to his knees and covered his head with his hands. In a flash, I was off the bed, falling to the floor beside him and whispering to him brokenly. I could hear him breathing heavily, but couldn’t tell if it was anger or pain.
I grabbed for his hand, beyond sick at the thought of the damage he might’ve done to himself…to that beautiful hand of his that is his livelihood. How could he tattoo with a broken hand?
He didn’t let me have it, pulled it away from my grasp immediately. But it wasn’t because he didn’t want me to touch him. No, it was because he reached for me, dragged me into his arms and buried his face in my neck. He drew in a ragged breath and squeezed me tighter as he whispered, “On pain of death, I swear to you, Chloe, he will never lay a hand on you again. I will never let you go, sunshine.”
I curled into him and held him just as tightly, letting the tears finally fall. He rocked me, giving me his strength, and if I hadn’t been in love with him already, I’d have fallen right then and there.
When the tears subsided, Brandon shifted me in his arms and got to his feet, still holding me. He sat me gingerly down on the end of the bed and knelt in front of me, looking up at my face earnestly while he wiped away the tears lingering on my cheeks.
“I love you, Chloe. I don’t care how it happened, how fast it seems, none of it. All I care about is the fact that we’re together and that’s not going to change. You’re mine now and I’m not letting you go. And I for damn sure won’t stand by and let anyone threaten you. We’ve got this, sunshine. I promise.” With that, he leaned in and kissed me sweetly.
“Brandon, your hand,” I whispered to him, trying to get a good look at it.
He moved his hand up and looked at it like he was just realizing that something was off about it. The skin was puffy and bruised already, broken in a couple places and seeping blood. He sighed heavily and swore under his breath before he shook it off. “Doesn’t matter, sunshine. I’ll get over it. Won’t be able to work for a couple days, but I don’t think it’s broken.”
I looked at him helplessly but he shrugged the injury off, pushing up off the floor and reaching for his phone. He dialed and when the other party answered, the conversation was short and to the point.
“It’s bad news. Get Jacks and get here when breakfast is done.” He listened for a second and then cracked a grin very briefly. “Yeah, I know. Tell Jan and Ben I said hi.”
He hung up without saying goodbye and turned to me. “Let’s get dressed, baby. Group will be here after a while to talk.”
It seemed like it didn’t take any time at all before my house was overflowing with friends and family, including Leah and Ian. Jackson had walked in the door, letting me know that my mom was on a trip with friends for two weeks and would be coming directly here when she got back, and then scooped me up in his arms, hugging me and reiterating what had already been said to me in various ways.
“Bastard won’t get near mom, and he won’t touch a fucking hair on your head ever again, little sister,” he grunted. He gave me one last squeeze and put me down.
The letter had already made its rounds, drawing a mixed-bag of reactions from every one, but Jackson’s and Luke’s reactions were pretty much like Brandon’s, just without the wall-punching. Ian patted my shoulder and offered to help with whatever he could. Calland had shown up a little later; I don’t think I’ve ever seen him when he wasn’t smiling, but there was absolutely no trace of the levity he usually showed as he put his arm around my shoulder and kissed the top of my head. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. I knew.
My heart was full to bursting once again at the love I was being shown and I wondered briefly how my life had gone from such shit to better than I’d ever imagined.
Hours later, there was a plan set, I was temporarily out of a job, and everyone had left, leaving me alone with a tall, gorgeous man who was busy cleaning (yes, I said CLEANING!) up pizza boxes and plates.
On his last return trip from the kitchen, I grabbed him, pressed my body against his and wrapped my arms around his neck.
“Kiss me,” I demanded.
He chuckled softly before he complied, pressing his lips sweetly against mine for a brief second. I whimpered when he pulled away and he smiled at me, but it faded as he stared into my eyes, looking intently for something, but I wasn’t sure what.
“What’s wrong?” I asked him.
“Are you okay?” he asked me, quietly. “I know we kind of took over everything and didn’t even really ask your opinion. But, sunshine, you have to agree, it’s what’s best until that dickface is behind bars again.”
“I know,” I replied firmly. “I’m really okay with everything because it’s just nice to know that I have people standing behind me. I mean, I know I had people behind me always, but I was too stupid to accept it, to let anyone know the horror I was living. I won’t make that mistake again. I won’t let him take another second of my life away from me.”
“That’s my girl,” he said, snuggling me against him again.
“How’s your hand?” I asked him dryly, tilting my head back to look up at him.
He grimaced a bit and gave me a sheepish look before he answered. “Pretty fuckin’ sore. Luke’s having T.J. fill in for me, take on some extra hours for a couple of days. So, upside, I guess, is that you get me all to yourself since you don’t have to work and neither do I.”
I sighed guiltily. “Yeah, I know. But how can I do that to Allie, even though everyone agreed it was best, when she’s due like any time now?”
“Allie’s mom is taking over for a while and, not that it’s public knowledge yet, but Allie’s been thinking of selling the store since Jackson’s firm is very successful and she wants to be home with the baby.” He said it nonchalantly, but I could hear the caution behind it.
I blinked up at him, stunned, because if that happened, I’d really be out of a job and possibly even a home.
Brandon pulled away from me and ran his hands over his face. He blew out a breath and said, “Well, actually…Luke and I were going to talk to you about something. Emma is wanting to stay home with their baby, too, which means she won’t be available to help out in the shop. So…would you be willing to come to work for us?” He peered down at me, his face hopeful.
“Really?” I asked him, surprised that situations just seem to resolve themselves so quickly around here.
“Really.”
“Huh,” was my only reply. Not that I would refuse the job; seriously, I wasn’t stupid.
Brandon hugged me to him once more and said those five little words that every woman wants to hear. “Let’s go get some ice cream.”
I grinned up at him and nodded. Okay, so there could be other words that women want to hear, but who doesn’t love ice cream?
We got our ice cream and walked around the park, holding hands as we ate our cones. He leaned me up against a tree and kissed the daylights out of me when our ice cream was done, laughing as he gamely explained he was only trying to get the chocolate off my lip. I wasn’t complaining though, and he definitely didn’t need an excuse to kiss me senseless…
