by Diana Gardin
A silent question passes from me to her, and she scoots a little closer to me, resting her head on my shoulder.
I give myself a silent salute.
“Are you hungry?”
She looks like she hasn’t eaten or slept in days. She nods.
“Do you have southern food?”
Inclining my head, I cup my hand against my ear. “I’m sorry, what?”
Her cheeks flame scarlet. “Like…chicken fried chicken? With gravy? Collard greens or fried okra? Mashed potatoes?”
I stare at her for a long moment. It’s not because it’s a turnoff for her to eat like that. It’s because it’s a freaking turn-on.
Finally, I bust out laughing. “Yeah, I think we can handle that.”
“Thanks for coming to get me, Ace.” Her voice is soft and still scratchy. Hearing it makes me hurt in so many places.
“Pretty sure I’ll always come for you, angel.”
Always? Not a word I’d usually use. But it seems true.
She lifts her head and a myriad of emotions flicker across her face. “I like it…when you call me that.”
Lifting a shoulder and letting it drop, I stare toward Carson. “It’s what I call you in my head.”
Carson turns around and slides a beer across the counter for me.
Carson winks as he leans on the bar. “I pride myself on being able to read my guests.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m your nephew.”
Naima’s throaty chuckle breaks me. Carson notices my reaction, his grin growing wider by the second.
He listens while she tells him what she wants to eat, and he plugs in the order.
But then his expression grows serious. “I’m sorry about what happened to you tonight, Naima. We’re gonna figure it all out.”
She sucks in a swig of her drink through her straw, saying nothing.
We sit in silence, each of us swimming in our own thoughts while we wait for her food to arrive. When Carson sets a steaming plate in front of her, her eyes grow wide and a huge smile breaks out across her face.
Carson and I exchange a grin because that’s what she does to me. She makes me happy, every single time I’ve seen her in the short amount of time I’ve known her. And happiness isn’t a familiar emotion for e…not at all.
I’m glad I’m not the only one affected by her. Carson’s grin tells me h thinks she’s amazing, too. It’s clear she’s won my uncle over already.
She eats like someone enjoying their last meal, although she cuts every piece into miniscule bites and still winces every single time she swallows. She doesn’t let the pain discourage her, though, finishing the entire plate before she finally glances over at me and smiles.
I’m without words, so I just watch. When she finishes, I indicate her bruised neck, a sight that still sends fingers of fury tapping at my nerves.
I’ve never thought of myself as a protector. I could never protect my mother from herself, and it was really hard to protect myself from her and her issues. But everything inside of me shouts at me to take care of this woman. No matter what.
“We need to get some more ice on that. And if it feels worse tomorrow, I’m taking you to the hospital, regardless of the cop threat. I want you better, period.”
She pushes her plate away and nods, once again leaning her head on my shoulder. The soft weight of her feels so good, and I can’t keep myself from pulling her closer.
Carson returns, looking at me with a grin on his face that I’m assuming is because of my current position. I’m about to ask him if he’s heard anything tonight when the front door behind me opens. His face goes dark. It’s an expression that I know better than any other, and he only looks like that when he’s dealing with one person.
I know without looking that my mom has just walked into The Corner.
It’s like the air has been sucked out of the room. Carson’s gaze is frozen on the doorway, and I’m scared to turn around. Not because I’m afraid of her, but because nothing good ever comes from Kara Wells being around. Usually something really bad comes from it.
Soft fingers curl around mine. Naima’s hair brushes against my face as she lifts her head. “I don’t know what’s wrong, Ace, but whatever it is…I’m right here.”
A sharp intake of breath, a quick glance at her face. Her serious expression has concern written in it. One look is all it takes to man up and turn around, squeezing her hand hard in my own.
I stand, puling Naima up beside me, but the picture my mom makes inside the bar slams into me hard. I almost stagger backward. Because she’s not alone.
She’s standing there with the man I put in the hospital last week. His face is still a map of yellowish bruises, and there’s a bandage over one eye. The sight of him next to her churns my stomach, and if I weren’t holding on to Naima, I would be bent over my knees trying to take in air.
My mother stares at me, pleading in her eyes. But I can’t approach her. Not when she brought him in here with her. The layers of make-up and the hairspray-locked curls in her shoulder-length brown hair don’t hide the bruises. They’re burned into my memory anyway, every single one she’s ever gotten.
Carson lets out a chain of curses behind the bar before he walks around and stalks toward her.
“Is that…” Naima trials off, but I know what she’s asking.
“Yeah. That’s my mom. And the dude with her is the guy I put in the hospital last week when I walked in on him almost killing her in her trailer.”
I focus on Naima, staring her down while she inspects my mom, waiting for her terrified and disgusted reaction to what I just told her.
“He was hurting her?” Her voice is quiet, but tinged in white-hot, intense anger.
I nod. “Yeah.”
There it is…the recoil. The disdain. Of course.
I glance back toward my mom, wanting to look anywhere but at that expression on Naima’s face. I was starting to think that maybe she could see every nasty thing there was to see about me and still stick around. But obviously I was…
“Then he deserved it.”
Her four plain words said in a flat tone have me reeling back toward her. My mouth snaps shut, trying to find the words that just don’t come. She glances at me, done observing the situation with Mom and that walking dick.
“Baby…” I finally find my words. “You’ve gotta be the coolest woman on the planet.”
She takes my hand, and together we walk toward the invading couple.
With every step I take, the anger inside me roils and boils, bubbling and frothing just under my skin. My muscles are stretched so tight it’s painful, and my bottom lip is probably bleeding from the pressure my teeth apply.
“Baby boy,” Mom starts, but I hold up a hand to cut her off.
“What the hell are you doing here? With him?”
I spare him a glance. I shouldn’t have.
His expression, underneath the yellowing bruises, is smug, taunting. He tightens his hold on my mother’s waist, and I see her eyes widen momentarily in fear. Dropping Naima’s hand, I step forward until I’m in his face.
“Ace.” My name from Carson is a warning that I ignore.
“You have the balls to touch her again?” I’m asking the question, but it’s through clenched teeth as my hands curl into fists at my sides.
“Your mama here knows we need each other. We just had a misunderstanding is all. We worked it out.”
My mother nods, echoing his words. “Misunderstanding, baby.”
I whirl on her, fury exploding behind my eyes in a bright patchwork of light. “Misunderstanding, my ass! You’d be dead right now if I hadn’t walked in!”
She takes a step back, her face going ashen. Her protruding cheekbones make her face look gaunt, the skin stretching tight. Then she gathers herself, sticks out her bony chest, and folds her thin arms across it.
“I need Joe.”
I stare at her, marveling. Those three words are all it takes to snap me back into the reality o
f my life. She’s never going to change. Naima’s hand smooths up my back, sending a peace salve coursing through my body. I close my eyes and breathe loudly through my nose.
She’s not gonna wake up. She’s not gonna change. She’ll never kick the booze, the drugs, or the men that bring the poison into her life.
It’s something Carson’s told me a million times. It’s the only way she knows how to live. And no matter how many times we offer to help her, to lift her up, to set her on her feet so she can live her life on her own terms, not some bastard’s who’ll beat her senseless, she never takes us up on it. She never stays sober, she never stands on her own.
I stare at her, sadness threatening to grab my heart in its fist and crush it.
But she’s my mom.
And all I ever wanted to do was help her.
“So, y’all gonna move out of our way so we can get a drink, or what?” Joe’s nasally voice is triumphant.
“Get. Out.” Carson means it, each word said with clear finality.
Mom gives a gulping sob, turning to me. “Baby, please. Just understand. I’m gonna stop drinking, I swear. I just need Joe—”
Gripping Naima’s hand in what’s probably too tight of a grip, I turn my back on Kara.
It’s not up to me to save her. I’ve tried.
Now? It’s her job to save herself.
Twenty
NAIMA
I’m not sure how long I’ve been holding him. An hour? Two?
But I know I don’t want to let him go.
My chest felt like it was being ripped in half, watching him interact with his mother. He wasn’t the tough, shaggy-haired, sharply dressed guy who stole my heart right out from under me just days ago.
He was this lost little boy who just needed his mom.
And she couldn’t step up and do the right thing.
Ace stirs, lifting his head from my lap and glancing around his condo’s living room. The place is completely unlike any home I’ve ever lived in, and yet I’m more comfortable here, more at home here, than I’ve been anywhere my whole life.
“You okay?” I ask him with quiet caution.
Back at The Corner, I was fully exposed to a side of him I’d only glimpsed before. His fury was complete, consuming, and dark.
It should have frightened me.
But I never took my hand off of him, and I could have sworn it was helping to keep him in control.
I won’t take credit for that, though. All the work that went into him holding onto his temper was his own.
I’m so proud of him for not hitting that guy in the face. Because, hell, even I wanted to.
But when he turned his back on his mother…that was almost worse.
He led me straight out the back door and down the dark street to his building, and then it’s like he just collapsed. Shut down. All the fight left him in one swoop, and I was there to catch him.
He sits up, grinding the heels of his hands into his eyes. Bleary, he meets my gaze. His lips twitch in the smallest of smiles, and I’ll take it. At this point, I’ll take even the ghost of his usual confident smirk.
“Been better. Glad you’re here, though.”
The words are so plainly honest that they pull my stare, just to make sure he’s real. There’re no games with Ace. He just tells me how he feels, what he wants, what he doesn’t. It’s such a change from normal guys I deal with I can’t get enough.
“Me, too.”
We’re both quiet for a moment, until I speak up again. “I understand, you know.”
He glances at me, his expression doubtful.
“No, I know. I mean…my parents aren’t like your mom in the obvious ways. But I’m only twenty-two, and my whole life has been planned out for me. And they don’t even care about my interests or opinions. They never check up on me. They never sit down to a meal with me. They’re never…there.”
Ace’s arm tightens around me. “What do you want to do? When you graduate?”
Nibbling on my lower lip, I worry the soft stitching of his coffee leather couch. I’ve never talked about my future goals…I actually can’t remember a time that anyone’s asked.
“My parents know that I’m graduating with a major in chemistry, and they assume I’ll go to medical school when I graduate. It’s what they’ve been raising me for, my entire life. It’s what they say they came to America for, this type of opportunity for their daughter.”
Ace gently grasps my chin between two fingers. “I didn’t ask what your parents wanted, or what their plan was. I asked what you want.”
I meet his steady, intense gaze, and all of my hesitation melts away. “I’ve minored in business. I…have a trust fund.” I try to hand my head, knowing how ridiculous this must sound to someone like him, but he doesn’t let my gaze drop. “In a perfect world, in my world, I’d move to a city where music is the heartbeat. And I’d eventually start my own record label.”
A slow grin spreads across Ace’s face. “Music, huh? Why doesn’t that surprise me, now that I know you?”
Tentatively, I return his smile, right before it falters. “My parents would never understand. To them, it’d be nothing but a disappointment.”
His hand slips around to cup the back of my neck, his fingers gentle where the bruising has settled on my throat. “And it hurts you. I’m sorry, baby.”
I shrug. “I just wanted you to know that just because money separates us, it doesn’t mean shit. We’re still the same in so many ways.”
His eyes, those gorgeous green pools, burn into mine. “I know.”
Leaning forward, I brush his lips with mine and my eyes close as the pleasant buzz of awareness starts to tingle inside me.
“You’re staying with me tonight.” His gaze slides toward the doorway leading to his bedroom at the same time mine does, and his eyes go wide while he backpedals. “No, not that. I mean, yeah, I want you in my bed, but there’s no pressure…shit.” He rakes his hands through his hair, frustration scrawling an adorable picture on his face.
I can’t help the amused smirk spreading over my lips. “You want me in your bed?”
Because God, I definitely want to be there.
His eyes narrow as he scoops me into his lap. One hand slides up my jeans-clad thigh, while the other dives into my hair to pull me closer. His eyes flare a bight green, with only a ring of brown around the edges of his irises. Burning. Eating me up.
“Hell, yes.”
I bite the inside of my cheek, tilting my head to one side. The pain in my neck is there, and I try not to wince. His eyes zoom to the spot, and he leans in to kiss me there. His lips are so gentle, it could be feathers brushing against my tender skin. Even though my neck aches, the sensation of his lips touching me ignites a fire inside me.
“Ace.” The word falls out on a moan.
Moan? I’ve never thought of myself as a noisemaker. But his hands and his lips are all too much for me. I can’t contain the sound.
Somewhere between us, something buzzes. Without removing his face from my neck, Ace reaches for his pocket and pulls out his phone. He scans the text and then frowns.
“You’re staying because I need to know you’re safe. I need to make a quick run back to the bar; there’s a name I need to get from Carson.”
He says all of this while his lips are pressed to my collarbone, and I nod my agreement as I gasp out my response. “Okay.”
He pulls back, staring into my eyes. “Don’t move.”
But he stays, and his expression is torn. He glances at the door and then back at me.
He doesn’t want to leave me.
I lean in and drop a kiss to his full mouth. “Go. I’ll text Bryn, even though she’s probably already asleep. I’ll tell her I’m safe. It’ll be fine. If I need you, I’ll call you. Okay?”
Finally, he sets me aside on the couch and stands up. He rolls his shoulders a couple of times before striding toward the door.
With one last glance toward me, he’s gone and I’m left wi
th just my thoughts, my heated body, and my phone.
I send the message to Bryn telling her I’m fine. She immediately calls me.
“Do you want me to come get you?” she asks as soon as I accept the call.
Sighing, I draw my legs up beneath me. “No…I’m okay here B. I’m safe with Ace, and we have some things to figure out.”
“I’m scared, Ny. I’ve never seen you like that before. I’m still at the fraternity house. They wouldn’t let me leave until you called.” Her voice is burdened with worry and I hate it.
I hate the way I fell apart today, too.
“Please stop worrying, and tell the guys they can calm down. I’m fine.”
There’s a low murmur on her end, and some fumbling. “Ny, don’t hang up yet. Noah wants to talk to you.”
I wait patiently while she hands the phone to Noah, letting my head drop back on the cushion behind me. I don’t remember when I took off my boots; the entire night has been so surreal. But I don’t want to leave this cozy, comfortable apartment.
“Ny?” Noah’s deep voice rumbles through the phone.
“Hi, Noah.”
“Don’t stay with him, Ny. Tell me where you are so I can come get you. I can keep you safe.”
I close my eyes for a second, counting to five, before I answer Noah in the kindest tone I can muster. But I’m exhausted, and arguing my own independence isn’t something I’m in the mood for.
I keep my voice firm. “Noah, I’m fine. I’m at Ace’s condo uptown. It’s a few doors down from his uncle’s bar. It’s in a really good area. I’m safe here. Please don’t worry. I’ll see you tomorrow on campus.”
Noah’s tone is just as demanding as mine is final. “What’s the name of the bar?”
“I fi tell you, do you promise to stay put? I’m tired, Noah. No more drama.” My stubbornness is showing, but he needs to know that I’m serious about this.
There’s a soft pout in his tone that pulls a smile out of me. “Fine. What’s the name of the bar? We need to know where you are, Ny.”
“It’s called The Corner. See you tomorrow, Noah. And…thanks. For worrying about me and for helping me earlier.”
