Mancave

by Jo Raven

  “You and Octavia are still going strong?”

  “We got married. Got a kid on the way.” I can’t stop a grin from spreading on my face. “It’s good, man.”

  “Rumor has it you opened your own garage.”

  “Rumor, huh?”

  “Evan told me. I ran into him the other day.” He sighs, pushes away his mug. “This coffee sucks. No idea why I keep coming back here.”

  “Because it’s right next to the station?”

  He grins at me. “Right.”

  “You heard about Evan’s accident?”

  “Sure did.”

  “Then maybe you also heard the rumors about Jasper Jones?”

  He nods, his grin slipping. “He’s been getting worse. He always was a jackass. You could see it in the way he treated everybody, including his own wife. No wonder she split soon after Ross was born.”

  “She skipped town?”

  “Oh yeah, and left no return address. Can’t really blame her, though I felt for Ross back then. Stuck with a father like Jasper, and no other family, everyone avoiding them because Jasper was such an ass… that can’t have been easy.”

  You don’t say? I scowl, pissed that I feel a twinge of sympathy for Ross. “Yeah, well, Jasper had three more kids in town and never lifted a finger to help them. Worse still, he let Ross pick on them every chance he got. Life for Octavia’s family wasn’t easy, either.”

  “Never said it was.” John shoots me a curious look. “Why are you here, Matt? Is something wrong?”

  “What?” I’m so caught up in my unease and confused anger, it takes me a moment to remember that yes, I came here for a reason. “Oh right. Here’s the thing: I’m back in town with Octavia to help Evan out until he gets his feet under him. And Jasper showed up yesterday with two of his thugs, making threats.”

  “That where you got that black eye?”

  I shrug. “You don’t need to know that.”

  “You’re right. I don’t.” He sighs. “You think he’d have had his men beat Evan up if you hadn’t been there?”

  “I dunno. What I know is that he told Evan he’s not allowed to leave town or quit his job at the garage. Why would he need his thugs to deliver a threat?”

  “For intimidation purposes?” John heaves a disgusted sigh. “That bastard, I swear… God knows how many calls we got to go break up a bloody fight between him and one of his mechanics. Every single time I was glad you moved away from that place.”

  I nod, mulling all this over. “Well, I came to ask you to keep an eye on Jasper. Make sure he doesn’t get anywhere near Evan again. Can he get a restraining order?”

  “He’d have to file it himself,” John says, leaning back in his chair. “You really think Jasper would go after Evan for quitting?”

  “Finding good mechanics around here is hard, and if he’s losing men at a steady pace…”

  “Yeah, I see your point. Dammit.”

  My mouth twists in a wry grin. I wouldn’t want to be in John’s polished shoes. I’m not even sure he can protect Evan. Hell, he couldn’t protect my family when that son of a bitch Jeff Adams went after them.

  Speaking of whom… “What about Adams?”

  John winces as if the name physically stings. I know exactly how he feels. “Locked up.”

  “And his family? Is anyone related to him around?”

  “Not at all. Why are you asking me this?” His eyes narrow. “Anything I should know about?”

  “Nah, I dunno.” I rake my hand through my hair. “He’s a psycho. Such things run in families.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “But you’re not sure.”

  “Matt. Stop that.”

  “Look, I still fucking panic when Octavia or my kids are not in my immediate line of sight. Asking if the guy who kidnapped and tried to kill them is behind bars is within my rights.”

  “I know. He’s staying in prison until he rots. You got nothing to worry about, okay?” He places a hand over his heart, his dark eyes serious. “He, his sister, and anyone who has ever known him won’t take a shit without me knowing, and I swear you’ll be the first to know if they move your way. I got your back, man.”

  I look away, so fucking touched I’m at a loss for words. “Thanks, Johnny,” I choke out. “I appreciate that.”

  “It’s Detective Elba to you,” he mutters, and snickers when I turn to glare at him. “I should be getting back to work. I’ll talk to Evan, see if he wants to file a restraining order against Jasper Jones.”

  I push my chair back to get up. “One last thing. What about Ross?”

  “What about him? He was in prison, last I heard.”

  “Is he dangerous?”

  John freezes, half-out of his plastic chair, brows lifted. “Dangerous? Mind clarifying that for me? Dangerous in what way?” He sinks back down. “He’s an asshole. A bully. He likes shoving people’s faces into the dirt and pick fights for no good reason.”

  “I see.” Same old Ross. Nothing’s changed.

  “However, he’s never hit a woman, as far as I know. Why the sudden interest?”

  “He’s getting released from prison tomorrow morning, and we’re gonna pick him up. Octavia… she wants to talk to him.”

  “About?”

  “Yeah, good question. She’s got this idea that he’s… good, I guess, underneath the asshole exterior. And that he needs her help. She’s been having nightmares about him dying.”

  John doesn’t bat an eye at this, which reminds me why I respect the hell out of him. “I see why you’re concerned. I doubt Ross will hurt Octavia, not physically anyway. If she thinks she can take the usual verbal abuse he likes to dish out, then you should be safe.”

  Right. But that means Octavia is wrong. “So he hasn’t changed at all over the years since we left Destiny?”

  “Hard for me to say. He’s drinking more. Seems to be following right in his old man’s footsteps.”

  Damn. “I’ll talk to Octavia again, convince her not to go get him tomorrow, to forget about him.”

  “However…” John stands up, straightens his tie. He seems to like the word. “What if she’s right?”

  “Come again?” I squint up at him. He’s outlined in the light coming through the diner windows, like an apparition, or an angel. “What do you mean?”

  “Just this: you never know what’s in someone’s heart,” he says, ruining his wise-man act, and winks at me before walking out.

  Is he for real?

  Chapter Twelve

  Octavia

  Our last day in Destiny goes by way too fast. Between getting breakfast into Evan and Melissa, figuring out lunch as Matt drives the girl to some neighbor friends to play and giving Evan his painkillers, the morning flies by.

  Matt returns much later with more bags of bird and turtle food and Melissa who’s sad because she’s going back to St. Louis today with Evan’s sister. That makes lunch a somber affair. She’s sad. Evan is quiet and picking at his food. Matt looks thoughtful, brows drawn together, deep lines in his forehead.

  “I talked to John today,” Matt says after the silence has stretched thin. “John Elba, the cop who was on Jeff Adams’s case. Remember him?”

  How could I ever forget anything about the events of those days? “What about?”

  Matt puts his fork down. “Ross.” His dark gaze meets mine, sharp like a blade. “Listen to me, Tay. Ross hasn’t changed. We should forget about tomorrow, leave him—”

  “No.” I push away from the table and stand, not sure where to go or what to do. “I’m not giving up before even starting. I have to talk to him.”

  He’s on his feet, too, casting a big shadow over the table. “I’m worried. He’s not a good man. He could hurt you.”

  “He won’t. And you’ll be there.” My chest feels too tight. “Give him a chance, Matt. Please?”

  He shakes his head, but sits back down. “That’s more or less what John said, too.”

  “He did?” I sink back down,
my knees weak.

  “He said you never know what’s in someone’s heart.”

  My turn to shake my head.

  “You took a chance on me,” he goes on. “I do trust you, Tay. Look, that’s not what I went to the station for. I wanted to talk to someone about Jasper. I found John, and we got to talking, that’s all. I want to do what’s best for you.”

  “You are. Believe me.” Relief is making my hands shake. “I’m not asking you to adopt Ross. Just to see him, see he’s okay, put that nightmare to rest.”

  “Then we will,” Matt says, determination hardening his voice. “If that’s what you need.”

  It is. I know it in my gut I won’t rest until I’ve seen for myself that Ross is all right.

  * * *

  Deanna who comes to pick Melissa up has a headful of bouncy curls and wide brown eyes. She looks nothing like Evan, and she doesn’t seem to be able to sit still for more than two seconds. “Meli, you ready? You packed your things? Don’t forget your dolls, we’re not coming back for them. Evan did you take your meds? Have you eaten? Oh God, I have to work late tonight. Meli, are you ready?”

  Holy crap. She’s driving me crazy, and she’s only been here ten minutes. Though the way she grabs Melissa in her arms as the girl passes by and hugs her is sweet. It’s clear she loves her.

  But Melissa heads straight for Evan.

  “Come with us.” She throws her arms around his legs. “Please, Uncle Evan. So I can see you more often.”

  “I can’t,” he says, misery in his eyes. “We talked about this.”

  But why not? “You should totally move to St. Louis,” I tell him. “Get a job there. It’s our city, we’ll be around, we’ll help.”

  “That’s true,” Matt says. “Why not look into St. Louis? You’d be close to Melissa, close to us, and far away from Jasper Jones. Sounds good to me.”

  Evan looks taken aback. He glances from Matt to me and back to Melissa. “You think I should? I keep forgetting I quit… that I can go wherever I want now.”

  “Yes! Come to us!” Melissa squeals. “Please.”

  “Easy.” He pats her arm. “I’ll have to find a job.”

  “Yeah, you should.” Matt’s gaze goes distant. I wonder what just went through his mind. “We’ll figure it out.”

  “You really quit your job?” Deanna shoots Evan a narrow look. “You always said you couldn’t give up that salary.”

  “Well, I did. I’ll tell you all about it another time.”

  His sister’s face does a weird thing, passing from incredulity to worry and then relief. “Good. Melissa isn’t the only one who misses you, you know. It’d be great to have you around, at last, to have you stop beating yourself over for what happened with Abby.”

  “Who’s Abby?” Melissa asks, and she’s quickly bundled up in a huge parka and walked to the porch. “Who’s Abby, Evan?”

  “We’ll talk about that, too, perhaps,” he says, standing beside her on the porch. “Another time.”

  I stare at them, Evan’s tall figure, Melissa’s small one beside him, her hand in his hand, and a bittersweet joy fills me at the thought that they can fix this, find each other, be together.

  Matt comes behind me, puts his arms around me. “So you’ve decided to fix everyone’s lives, cure all sadness in the world?”

  “Maybe?” I laugh a little, but he’s right. That’s what I want, how I feel. “I wish for them to be happy. Is that a bad thing?”

  “Never.” No hesitation. “And I think I’ve figured out a solution.”

  “For what?”

  “For Evan.”

  I try to turn around and see his face, but he won’t let me. He tucks me under his chin. “Tell me,” I whisper.

  “I’ll tell you when we’re back in St. Louis. There’s a thing or two I need to clarify first.”

  “Spoilsport.”

  “But you love me anyway.”

  I smile and lean back into him. “With all my heart.”

  * * *

  “Will you be all right after we’re gone?” I ask Evan.

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “You only asked him ten times in the past hour,” Matt mutters.

  “What? I’m just making sure he has everything he needs.”

  “You took care of Melissa and bought everything I’ll need for at least a week. I’m all set.” Evan sends me a tired smile. “I’m getting used to the cast, and moving about on my own, and besides… I need to decide what to do. My lease on this house is ending, too. Feels like fate is pushing me to move.”

  “Yeah, we’ll talk about that. I’ll call you,” Matt says, all cryptic and mysterious, and I shoot him a look.

  He doesn’t take the bait. He takes another swig of his beer and switches the TV channel to a rerun of Friends.

  “You guys are the best friends ever,” Evan says, so low I barely hear him, his gaze fixed on a spot beyond the TV. “I’ll never forget what you did for me.”

  “We’re not done with you yet,” Matt mutters, and I give up on trying to figure it out, leaning against his side, and promptly falling asleep.

  These days that is all I seem to be good at.

  That, and trying to save the world, as if I ever could.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Matt

  I don’t sleep.

  After tossing and turning for ages, I get up and go the bathroom, splash some water on my face. I stare into my tired eyes in the cracked bathroom mirror and wonder what’s my problem.

  Yeah, Ross is an ass, and I don’t look forward to meeting him tomorrow. To Octavia stepping into his path again. I don’t trust myself not to go all caveman on his ass, knock him over and throw him into the bushes by the roadside.

  If he as much as thinks about mocking my wife, if he as much as lays his little fucking finger on her… Jesus Christ, I’m getting riled up just thinking about it.

  Why did I agree to this?

  Oh right. Because Octavia looked at me like I was breaking her heart for insisting she change her mind, and I have no power to refuse anything this girl asks of me.

  Nightmares. How could I refuse when she thinks seeing that asshole face to face may set her mind at ease? Especially now. She needs lots of sleep. She thinks I don’t notice how tired she gets sometimes, but it’s hard to miss. Carrying a baby isn’t easy.

  So when I return to the guest bedroom and find her sitting up, her hands on her belly, I stop dead in my tracks, my heart doing a war dance against my ribs.

  “Tay, is everything all right?” I sit down beside her. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. Just gas, I think.”

  I relax. Why am I so worried anyway? It’s not my first rodeo with a pregnant wife. The mood swings, food cravings, nausea, hunger, sudden tears, I’ve been through it all twice, and will never regret a single second of it.

  “Want some tea?” I ask her. “Maybe some chamomile tea?”

  It used to do the trick with Emma.

  And just like that, the memory slams into me like a punch, so hard I grunt, and I’m not here. I’m with Emma, before she fell sick, before she died, way before it all went to shit.

  When she was pregnant with our kids, glowing with happiness. When I had my hand on her swollen belly, feeling our babies kick. When she laughed and told me they would be kick-ass.

  I can’t breathe.

  Lurching to my feet, I stumble to the window and throw it open, desperate for some fucking air. I’m drowning. Suffocating.

  The hospital room where she died. Mary and Cole crying at home, asking for their mom. Zane, my wife’s adopted brother, almost drinking himself to death, unable to cope with her loss.

  And I…

  I rub at the thick scar running down the inside of my arm, to my wrist, flex my usually half-numb fingers, the nerves permanently damaged from cutting too deep back when I thought my life would never find meaning again.

  I was wrong.

  I put my hand on the window pane. Cold. So damn c
old. But this is real. The shortness of breath, the darkness teasing at the edges of my mind, it all sucks, but it’s real. I’m here, and I’m alive. I made it back from that darkness.

  And if this town, this moment threw me flailing back into the past, that doesn’t mean I’m its prisoner.

  “Matt? What is it?”

  There she is, my bright light in this maze. I haul her to my side, tuck her under my arm, and kiss her forehead.

  “Everything’s fine,” I tell her.

  She sighs, burrowing closer. “You sure?”

  It’s chilly in the room, and I should tuck her back into bed, but I don’t move, not yet. Her sweet, fresh scent fills my senses, smooths out the sharp edges of the past. My breathing settles, my lungs expand.

  “As long as you and our kids are okay, there’s nothing more I want,” I whisper, looking at our entwined reflections in the dark glass.

  And that’s the truth. I’m not backsliding. It’s just the stress of these days, Kaden complaining I’m not giving him what he needs, Evan needing help, Jasper swaggering into our lives, Ross crossing our paths.

  But it’ll get back on track. I will get back on track. I’ll never stop missing Emma, and our kids together will always remind me of her. So many little things will always bring her back to me.

  But I love Octavia, so fucking much. I’ve got a good thing going with her, with my kids. I’ve got a good life. No more drowning in booze and despair. I’ll take care of everyone, keep them all safe. I’m not sure where the danger is, or even if there is any, but if this is what I have to tell myself to keep sane, not to slip again, then that’s a small price to pay.

  After all, I never thought I deserved a second chance. Now I got it, and I’ll fight tooth and nail to keep it.

  * * *

  We finally make it back to bed, and while Octavia is out like a light, I curve my body around her back, holding on to her, breathing her in. Like every time, feeling her, smelling her, gets me hard, but I don’t act on it. I don’t cup her full tits, I don’t reach between her legs to stroke her, I don’t wake her up and make her come.