Pinpoint (Point #4)

by Olivia Luck

  “Look.” I nudge Cam with my elbow. His face hardens.

  “What the fuck. He’s dressing them down.” Possessiveness roars through me at Cam’s evaluation of the situation. We break into a jog, getting close enough to overhear the conversation.

  “To think you’d show your faces here after the way you disgraced this family. It’s disgusting. You are not wanted in Winter. That was made clear when I disowned you both.”

  Some of the other townspeople notice the scene and don’t pretend to look away. A few steps from the commotion, a woman with graying red hair wrings her hands nervously. Somehow, I know this woman is Pastor Harper’s wife.

  “Do you think the people of this town would accept your lives of sin? You’ve brought nothing but shame on this family and our parish. Leave.”

  Ferocity heats my veins, and I want nothing more to rip this guy off his high horse, metaphorically, when a palm on my chest halts me in place.

  “What?” I snarl.

  Cam cocks his head toward the group. “Your girl.”

  From this angle, I am only able to see her back. Iris stands ramrod straight, head held proudly. When she speaks, her voice is loud, clear, and does not waver. “You can disown us all you want, but do not begin to presume to know who we are. You never knew us. All you ever wanted was for the women in your home to obey you. Well, thank goodness Violet had the courage to leave Winter. If you had even the slightest idea of the women we are today, you’d be bragging about us, not spitting on our memory. We care for each other. We care for our community. We believe in making the world a better place than it was when we came into it. Do you know why we came here today? Because no matter what, you and mother are our family, and we couldn’t bear to think of you or this town struggling. With no selfish motives, we came to help.”

  Their father leans closer, not bothering to hide a look of pure disgust. His words are directed at Iris. “You were to marry John Tyler and keep the church in my family. Instead, you ran off to sell your soul to the lowest bidder.” Then his gaze shifts to Violet. “I have nothing further to discuss with either of you. Do as I say and go. You are not welcome here.”

  As if she wakes from a slumber, Violet stands straighter. “Father, we’re not here to cause trouble. Why can’t you see that?” She puffs up her chest with a breath. “Listen to us, please.”

  But the man refuses to budge. His face flushes with unrestrained anger, lips drawing into a thin, tight line.

  At my sides, my hands ball into fists. It’s one thing to hear how awful Iris’ father was, but it’s another to see firsthand how big of an asshole he is. As much as I want to step in and take both these women away from him, I hold back. This isn’t my battle.

  From this vantage point, I can see that Iris trembles—with anxiety or rage, I’m not sure, but she maintains her composure. “If we leave now, we won’t be back.” He doesn’t flinch.

  Iris weaves an arm over her sister’s shoulders and guides her away. They walk with a similar stiffness, as though the exchange drained them of the energy to move faster. A mixture of admiration and remorse battles inside me. Watching Iris stand up to her father was awe-inspiring, but seeing the heart-wrenching sadness written on her face makes me want to sweep her into my arms and not let her go until she smiles.

  When Iris spots me, she falters, stumbling a step. Violet glances up from where she had been staring at the ground dejectedly and sees Cam. A look of pure, unmistakable love transforms her expression, and she runs the few steps between them to throw herself against his chest. I hear him murmuring in her ear, and I fight back a curl of jealousy, wishing that Iris would greet me in the same way.

  She walks to me, blinking as if I’m a mirage that will vanish.

  “You’re here.” Awe skirts around the edge of her tone.

  “I had to show you my support and the phone wouldn’t do.” I’m not ashamed of following her down here. In fact, by the way her eyes soften, I know now more than ever that I made the right choice. She reaches out a hand toward me, and that’s all the encouragement I need.

  I tangle our fingers together then draw her against my body. Releasing her hand, I slide my arms around her waist and fit our bodies together. With a slight bend, I press my nose into her silky lose hair, inhaling her omnipresent freshness. “I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than your bravery. Iris, you’re magnificent. I’ll tell you that every day for the rest of your life if that’s what it takes to make you believe it.” In my arms, she shudders. Her grip on my t-shirt tightens and then releases. She takes a breath that fans across my chest and I fight the urge to press deeper into her embrace. This is a hug in the middle of a disaster zone, not the privacy of my bedroom. Iris steps out of my arms, but I don’t allow her to move far away. With an arm still anchoring her to my side, we shift toward Violet and Cam, who stand in a similar way.

  “Do you think we should call it a day?” Violet wonders.

  Iris glances over her shoulder where the small viewing party has dispersed. “I have this overwhelming feeling that no one wants us here,” she says sadly.

  “He’s the leader of the community, and we’re the shunned sisters,” Violet agrees bitterly. “We were able to help some this morning, but I don’t know if I can go on.” She looks at her feet. “Not to be dramatic, but . . .”

  “It felt final,” Iris agrees. As a group, we make our way back to the home base of cars. It’s then I notice Violet and Iris’ small SVU parked not too far from my own car. I take charge, decreeing that Cam will drive their car back to the city and Iris will stay with me. No one argues, and soon, Violet and Iris are embracing tightly, saying things to each other that are inaudible to Cam and me.

  Then she’s mine.

  Immense satisfaction builds in my chest when she comes to my side, allowing me to curl her against my body and direct her to the car. “I’m not surprised you’re here,” she says.

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because you are a good man, Oscar Alexander. The best kind there is.”

  To mask the onslaught of emotion threatening to overwhelm my sense, I dip down and press a kiss to the crown of her head. She lets me ease her into the car, and for some reason, I have the urge to strap her seat belt; prove to myself she’s all right and I’m the one taking care of her.

  I plug my address into the GPS once I’m in the driver’s seat and pull away from the wreckage of Winter.

  Iris stares ahead. A blank, vacant expression pales her already porcelain skin. “Pick something to listen to.” The words come out sternly. Iris blinks but doesn’t move to initiate the sound system.

  I let her dwell in her own thoughts until the silence becomes deafening. Reaching across the console, I grab one of her hands in mine. It’s icy cold to the touch. “Iris, talk to me. What happened?”

  She turns to face me, and I cut a quick glance in her direction. Silent tears streak down her cheeks.

  “I don’t know why I’m this upset. It wasn’t so much the surprise that he thought so low of us but rather the finality of it all. He truly doesn’t want any part of us in his life. And my mother. I’ll never forget the look on her face. The shame and the anger. I’ll never know if it was directed at Violet and me or at Father, but it doesn’t really matter, does it? Our parents don’t have any sentimental notions toward us. Our parents.”

  The stark, cruel words rip through my chest, leaving a throbbing pain in its wake. Silently, I make a vow of gratitude toward my parents. The gripping pain building inside me becomes unbearable. I refuse to passively watch her suffer. Glancing in the rearview mirror to ensure a clear path, I steer the car to the shoulder of the four-lane highway and put it into park.

  Leaning across the car, I unlatch her seat belt. “Come here,” I say gruffly. She’s small enough that the trek across the middle of the car doesn’t jar her. She fits neatly into my lap, as though she was always meant to sit there. With one arm binding around her back, I use my free hand to electronically shift the seat
backward to better accommodate her in my arms.

  Iris clings to me, though she doesn’t make a sound. If it’s possible, the silent tremors against my chest are even more heart wrenching than if she were to scream and sob. The only indication I have of her tears is the dampness blooming on my chest. I don’t have the first clue how to ease her hardship, so I murmur words of encouragement against the crown of her head and tighten my arms.

  Whatever she needs.

  At this moment, a purpose is realized. I am meant to be with this woman.

  Iris

  For a long time, I don’t comprehend what’s happening or where I am. One thought consumes me. It pierces through my heart making my body shudder with physical pain. And then, somehow, the ache vibrating through my bones begins to soothe. Slowly, I come into the awareness that I am being cradled. Underneath my cheek is the hard wall of a chest and the comforting cadence of a steady heartbeat. A hand strokes along the length of my back.

  “I’d do anything to permanently erase that exchange from your memory.” Each word makes the chest rumble. Oscar’s deep voice wraps around me in a comforting embrace. “What can I do?” It’s a rhetorical question. “Let me take this burden for you.” Warmth spreads through my body, replacing what’s left of my father’s verbal wrath.

  Shuffling in his arms, I move so that I am able to look into his face. I brush back my mess of hair behind my ears and then lift my hands to cup his cheeks. When our eyes connect, my skin starts buzzing. Tenderness radiates from him, a mirror into my own feelings toward Oscar.

  And then I know for certain. I’m not in this alone. Why was I worried he wouldn’t want me?

  “You being here gives me a strength I didn’t know I was missing.”

  Oscar brushes his lips against mine, a gentle touch that sends ripples of peace down my spine.

  “This feels like more than friends,” I whisper.

  Oscar circles my wrists with his long fingers and brings my hands to his chest. Naturally, my hand rests over his heart, like I’m drawn to this part of him. He lifts one hand to smooth my hair around the shell of my ear, leaving a hand cupping my skull.

  “I don’t want to be friends, Iris. I never wanted to be just your friend, but I was too scared to admit it to myself.”

  My heart catches in my throat. “What are you saying?”

  “Since the moment I first saw you, something about you called out to me. I fought and fought because I thought it was easier to be alone than to be with the one woman who made me want to be a better man. I thought if you became mine, I’d be vulnerable to you in a way I never wanted.”

  “That’s understandable,” I murmur. “Someone once told me love is the biggest risk there is.”

  Oscar’s cinnamon eyes fill with emotion. “My parents adopted me when I was four. The product of a pimp and a prostitute. Born addicted to drugs. For so long, I’ve worn that albatross, using it as an excuse not to let anyone get close to me. But you broke through all my defenses without even trying. ” My heart aches for Oscar the child, knowing his mother and father were too caught up in their own addictions to care for him. In a way, I can relate. My parents never saw me as a child; I was more of a prop and an inconvenience than I was someone to love.

  “That’s why you looked startled when I told you I want to adopt children,” I realize suddenly.

  “Yes.” Oscar sighs. “My parents moved to the city, and they kept news of the adoption to their most trusted inner circle. It’s something I’m obviously sensitive about, and I see now that I’ve been letting it stifle my life.”

  “No wonder your defenses are high. Your life began with distrust. How did you figure out that this was your burden?”

  “Your introspection inspired me to do some inward thinking of my own.” He smiles sardonically.

  I love this man.

  Oscar’s eyes fall shut, and he drags his nose along the length of my cheek, causing me to shiver with pleasure. Our lips touch again, and then he resumes staring at me with an intensity I’ve never seen before from him.

  “No, I don’t want to be your friend. If you insist on that label, then I’ll be your best friend. I’ll be your lover, your champion, your confidant, your sounding board, your everything. Iris, I want every last part of you. Morning breath and crabbiness. Date nights and parties with your friends. Family dinners with my parents and if you insist, a dog. I want you to work with me on Caroline. Are you starting to get my point?”

  My heart thumps in my chest—love radiating with each pump.

  “That’s it?” I can’t believe that I’m teasing him at this moment, but I feel lighter now than I have in months.

  The corner of Oscar’s full lips hitches. “I reserve the right to expand the contract.”

  “And what do I get out of this deal?”

  “All of me,” he says vehemently. “Whatever I have to give. No more holding things back. And when I inevitably screw up, I’m banking on your patience.”

  “And what about when I screw up?”

  Oscar’s brow furrows. “You’ve been open and honest since day one.”

  “When you asked for my forgiveness, I was stubborn and inflexible. I barely listened to you. It took me forever to realize what you said plainly—that you genuinely wanted to be with me. I’m sorry for that, Oscar.”

  “It’s in the past. Now that we’ve established that we’re both sorry, can we move on?”

  “Yes,” I breathe.

  When he kisses me, I melt. The sensation ripples down the length of my body like calming waves. And in the next breath, heat tears through me and I’m aching for his touch. It’s a ravenous, searing kiss, igniting all my senses. This time, when I imagine a connection blossoming, there’s no second-guessing. Oscar is truly mine, and I’m truly his.

  “Let’s get the hell out of Winter,” he says roughly against my lips.

  Oscar helps me right myself in the passenger seat. I buckle myself into the car and instinctively reach out to grasp his hand. The funny thing is this time he’s waiting for me as if he has been his entire life. Oscar lifts our joined hands to his lips and brushes a kiss across the back of my hand.

  And then we’re moving forward, leaving the ghosts of our past behind the car.

  There’s no question where we are headed. Oscar takes us directly to his house. He parks inside the garage, and I don’t wait for him to come around to the car to open my door.

  “Do you have déjà vu?” Oscar asks huskily as he ushers me inside.

  “No,” I say firmly.

  Oscar pauses, looking at me quizzically. “This time is about more than just desire. There’s something here between us, and I’m not the only one clinging on to it.” He steps to me and weaves a hand through my hair to look at me.

  “Iris,” he says huskily.

  “Yes?”

  “I have the urge to tell you I love you, but I’m not sure I understand the depth of what that means yet.”

  My heart skips a beat. Maybe two. I didn’t expect him to be this open. “I’ve fallen for you. And I’m not entirely sure what love means either, but that’s the only label that fits with the way I feel about you,” I confess. “There’s this part of me that is only complete when you’re near.”

  Oscar nods as if he understands me fully. “A piece of my heart that belongs solely to you.”

  “Exactly,” I whisper. Suddenly, a blinding happiness makes my entire body warm.

  Oscar dips down, and suddenly, I’m in his arms, and he’s moving quickly through the house, climbing the stairs two at a time.

  “Wait! I haven’t even taken my shoes off.” I giggle. “I’m covered in dust from cleaning up in Winter.”

  “It will clean,” Oscar mutters.

  “Stop,” I say breathlessly. He pauses at the foot of his bed, holding me over it. “Maybe we could take a shower. You know, to get rid ourselves of the dust and dirt.”

  Oscar’s eyes darken with lust, and he carries me into the bathroom where he car
efully places my feet on the floor. I throw myself at him, dropping kisses all over his face while I try to tear at his shirt.

  “Iris.” Oscar grabs my hands. “There’s something I need to say to you.”

  “Okay.” I hesitate, nervous at his suddenly serious expression.

  “You gave me the greatest gift I’ve ever been given.” Without saying the words, I know what he is talking about.

  My cheeks go hot. “We don’t have to talk about that, Oscar, really.”

  “No,” he insists, “we do. There’s no excuse for how roughly I treated you our first night together. Had I known, I would have done things differently.”

  “Well, I’m glad you didn’t know.” Curiosity gets the best of me. “How did you figure it out?”

  Oscar frowns. “Your sister told me.”

  I jerk backward in surprise. “What?”

  He shakes his head quickly. “She was looking out for you and busting my balls in the process. Which I deserved, by the way. Don’t be upset with her.”

  I want to know more about this topic, but really, does it matter? I’m here with Oscar now. Exactly what I wanted.

  “I didn’t want you to treat me like a porcelain doll, and I don’t want you treating me like one now. And I owe you an explanation too. I could have said something to you, but I didn’t because I wanted things to progress. I wanted to give my virginity to you because, well, you were the first person I desperately wanted to sleep with. I have no regrets about that. Now,” I huff, “are we done talking?”

  Oscar smirks. “My, my, someone is impatient.”

  “For you? Yes.”

  And then he kisses me and the entire word fades away.

  Oscar

  “Hi, honey!” Without fail, every time Iris hears the door shut behind me as I enter our home, she calls out the same cheerful greeting. The endearment is a constant reminder of the domesticity I never imagined I would have. Yet here I am, overwhelmed with gratitude for the way my life has changed since meeting Iris.