by Aden Lowe
Justine.
My blood drained to my feet yet again, and my heart pounded in my ears. Damn, I knew this would happen. It's why I never came back to Duncan before now. My heart couldn't take running into her at every turn. Yet that's exactly what seemed to be happening.
"Excuse me." She started past as if she didn't even recognize me.
Fury poured into my bloodstream at her casual dismissal. She would have been more polite to a stranger. "What the fuck?" I grabbed her arm and spun her around. "You send me a letter to dump me, while I'm in the fucking desert getting shot at? You couldn't keep your fucking legs together another two months, until I got back? And now you act as if you don't even know me?"
She glared up at me, pale as hell, and eyes flashing with anger, and something else. "Sorry, Caleb. I can't talk right now. Maybe we can catch up later." She started to walk away again.
"You owe me an explanation. More of one than that letter had."
"I don't owe you anything." Her palm landed against my jaw with a resounding smack. "You don't know anything about me!"
I shoved her up against the wall and pinned her there with my body. Staring down into her wide eyes, the feeling of coming home hit me so fucking hard. "Don't forget, I know the sounds you make when you come. I know what your pussy tastes like."
She tried to slap me again, but I caught both wrists and held them above her head with one hand. My other hand went to her jaw, while I kept her body pinned. Slow and deliberate, I bent to kiss those lips that had once promised love and happiness forever.
Fuck. Me.
The world exploded and my dick stood to immediate attention. One little touch and she had me ready to come in my jeans.
She resisted me at first, but then her mouth softened and she stopped fighting. I tasted her, and took every kiss I'd missed out on all these years. Somewhere along the way, she responded a little. Nothing like the old days, but when I broke away, we were both breathing hard. Though if I were honest, her anger probably caused it more than my kiss.
"Does he kiss you like that?"
"Who?" She looked dazed.
"The man you dumped my ass for." Those words practically killed me to say.
Her body went stiff again. "I have to leave. I'm really sorry, Caleb."
I held onto her. "No one calls me Caleb anymore. My name is Fabio." I didn't know why it seemed so important for her to know that, but it did.
"Fabio." Her voice trembled.
"Yeah."
She moved a little, like she was trying to get more comfortable. Fuck, I'd been too rough and hurt her. Something brushed against my ribs, but before I could think, my goddam phone beeped with an incoming text. Fuck. "I'll be seeing you, Justine. I got shit to do right now, but we'll continue this later." I let go of her and walked away, even though every cell of my body screamed for me to make her mine again.
Lost in thought, I paid zero attention in the drug store, and just grabbed the first pack of razors I saw. Had the shape against my ribs belonged the muzzle of a gun?
My damn phone buzzed as I left the store, demanding my attention. "Yeah."
"Cops here, man. Trouble." Crank's words stole all thoughts of Justine away.
"Fuck. Five minutes." I sprinted for the parking lot, stowed my shit, and blew through all the traffic lights to get back to the house.
Both a city cruiser, and a deputy car, sat in the driveway. I set my bike up next to Crank's, and headed inside with my pulse pounding in my head. What the fuck else could go wrong this week?
Inside, I found things a bit calmer than I expected, or at least, not loud. Tyler and Nicole sat huddled together, tears streaming down their faces. I went to them immediately and scooped them both up. "It's okay, I got you." Gentle and careful, I sat them back down.
I turned to deal with shit. Crank sat calmly at the kitchen table, hands cuffed in front of him. The Deputy stood shaking his head while the city cop scribbled furiously in a notebook.
"What's going on?"
"Caleb Reach?" The city cop glared at me like he would prefer to shoot me, rather than stand there and write stuff down.
"Yes. Now what's the problem?"
"Mr. and Mrs. Thomas have reported that the two of you assaulted them in their home, and removed these children, who were in their care, without permission."
Fuck. I knew we hadn't heard the last of those idiots. "Did they happen to tell you that Sarah Channing, from CPS, was with us when we picked the kids up? Or that these kids are my niece and nephew, and their parents were recently killed? Sure, I took the kids from them without their permission. But considering they had them under false pretenses, I think I was justified."
The Deputy's mouth twitched, like he really wanted to laugh. I got the distinct feeling he thought the whole thing was bullshit, too. "Officer Barton, we need to check into this further. The CPS worker should be able to clear it up with a phone call."
Suspicion shot through me. "Call her directly, please." I gave him Ms. Channing's number from the card she left with me. "I'm not sure if anyone else there has the facts." I almost slipped and told him about her supervisor setting shit up, but at the last second, caution prevailed. I had no clue who these people might be connected with.
The Deputy nodded, and started dialing. In less than five minutes, he had spoken with Ms. Channing and got the straight of things. "Officer Barton, you need to uncuff him. Ms. Channing is prepared to give an affidavit to support Mr. Reach's version. Her office is investigating the matter further."
Barton rolled his eyes, but complied. As they prepared to leave, he stepped up close to me. "Don't think that just because you got by with it this time you will again. I'm watching you both. Take one wrong step and I'll slam you both in jail."
"That sounds an awful lot like harassment, Officer Barton." I made sure to smile real friendly. "We've done nothing wrong."
"You will, though. And when you do, I'll be right there with the cuffs." He turned and stomped for the door.
I gave the Deputy a serious look. "You're a witness to that, by the way."
He nodded. "Yeah, but just between you and me, a complaint would go absolutely nowhere. It's happened before."
I grunted at that little tidbit. "Good to know."
The Deputy followed Officer Barton out, and a moment later, they were gone. I turned back to the kids. "Are you guys okay?"
Nicole gave a shaky nod, but Tyler continued to sob quietly. "That policeman was going to take us back there."
I pulled them close. "Listen to me, very carefully. I am not going to let anyone take you away from me. You are safe. Understand?"
They nodded, but the tears didn't stop. My eyes met Crank's over their heads. "You think we might need to call in reinforcements, man?"
I considered the idea. Having more Hell Raiders here would definitely make me feel more secure. But I could only imagine what sort of reaction the town would have to an MC rolling down Main Street in force. "Nah, I think we better keep stuff quiet and not draw attention."
19
Justine
I barely made it back to my car, my legs shook so badly. The changes in Caleb—Fabio—were definitely more than on the surface. The nice boy I fell in love with had been replaced by a hardened man. I sat in the car with the doors locked, trying to catch my breath and hanging onto my gun for dear life, for what seemed hours.
One thing certainly hadn't changed. Despite that panic from a man's touch, he affected me just as strongly as he used to, if not more so. In that one moment, he brought back a part of me I thought dead. Could I live with that now? The thought of living in the same town with him, seeing him, and not being able to touch him, talk to him, nearly broke me, right there in the car.
Finally, I collected myself enough to drive home. The sound of my car in the driveway brought my mother to the door, ready for her next attack. Dread shuddered through me. I had to do something to change the situation. I could choose to tolerate her constant barrage of anger and ke
ep the relative safety of living with my parents, or I could sacrifice the safety and gain some peace. At the moment, the peace sounded like the better option. I gathered my things and climbed out of the car, emotionally exhausted and dreading the inevitable confrontation.
"Well, it's about time. I thought I would have to send out a search party. Where have you been?"
"Sorry, I had some extra things to do at work." I dropped the prescriptions on the table and hung the dry cleaning on the hook by the door.
She made a disapproving noise. "Well, dinner will be late now, since you weren't here to help with it. Some people are considerate enough to call when they're going to be late."
I sighed, trying to disperse a little of the anger already building in me. "Sorry, Mother. I'm a terrible daughter. We know this by now." I washed my hands, trying to mentally prepare for the ordeal ahead.
"I don't appreciate the snide comments, young lady." She handed me potatoes to peel, as usual. "Did you hear Caleb is back in town?"
Of course she knew. And now his presence would become her weapon against me. "Yes, Mother, I heard." I certainly wasn't going to reveal any details of what I knew about the new Caleb. Excuse me, Fabio. Why on earth did he change his name? And to one like that?
"I was talking to Marie today. She saw him at the Sheriff's Office. She said she wouldn't have recognized him, had he not given his name when he came in to see the State Trooper and Deputy. Apparently, he looks like some kind of common criminal now." She shook her head and continued, lamenting tattoos and piercings on such a nice boy.
I ignored her and continued to peel the potatoes, trying to get lost in my own thoughts. His image had burned itself into my brain, and now I could see nothing else. He wore jeans, heavy boots, a white T-shirt stretched tight across his muscular chest, and a black leather vest. My mind focused in on the patches on the front of his vest. Fabio. Road Captain. Original. And a series of small skulls. I couldn't help wonder what they all meant, because I was fairly certain they weren't there merely for decoration.
"Well, if he was going to turn into some kind of hoodlum, I guess I should be thankful you broke up with him. Of course, if you hadn't, he might not have changed." She went on about good boys who turned bad because a woman treated them badly.
"Oh, for God's sake, Mother. Could you just drop it for one day? I did it. I had a reason, which is none of your business. End of story." I threw the half-peeled potato and knife into the sink and started for the door. "I don't need this shit every day."
"You stop right there, young lady. I will not tolerate—"
"What on earth is going on here?" My dad came in from the living room.
"Her attitude is the problem." My mother pointed at me. "Every day, she comes in all sullen and not wanting to do as she's asked. After we give her a roof to live under."
Dad turned to me in time to catch the tears starting. "Justine?"
"I'm sorry. It won't happen again. But if she would leave me alone for three seconds about Caleb, I would appreciate it." I turned and rushed out the door, only catching the beginning of whatever she had to say about my outburst.
It didn't matter. Either way, I was in the wrong. I truly shouldn't have spoken to her that way. I wasn't a teenager any longer, and even then, I knew better.
Through the whole ordeal of being attacked, and living in constant fear, only my Dad gave unquestioning support. When I needed to learn to shoot, he didn't ask why, just taught me. His calm acceptance was probably the only reason I managed to hold on to even a shred of sanity through it all. He let me know, in many small ways, he had my back, no matter what.
My knees went slack and dropped me on the bench of the picnic table that had stood under so many happy family cookouts during my childhood. How could I keep going on like this? Every time my phone rang, my heart nearly shot out of my chest. Every time I entered a dark room, fear gripped me in a stranglehold. Every time I thought a man paid attention to me, I nearly threw up.
Was Kayla right? Should I find a therapist, or counselor? I had no idea how to even go about finding one. I knew several psychologists and therapists through the children I worked with, but I certainly couldn't go to anyone I knew professionally. It would have to be a complete stranger, someone with no ties to this community. I didn't think I could face being the topic of conversation over coffee, and word getting back to people I worked with.
The door opened and closed softly behind me. "Justine? Can we talk?" Dad's careful tone made me feel lower than I already did.
Unable to speak around the lump in the chest, I just nodded.
He sat beside me, saying nothing for a moment. "Need to prune the roses soon. They're getting too wild."
Again, I only nodded. He would get around to whatever he wanted to say in his own time.
"Should paint the shed pretty soon, too." He sighed. "Jobs like that keep piling up around here."
"I'm sorry, Dad. I'll help out more." My voice sounded hoarse and ragged.
"Not what I was looking for, baby. I'm thinking about retiring. I've been there long enough, and we have a little saved up. I'm not getting any younger, and it would give me a chance to do all those projects I've kept putting off for years."
Retiring. Those words rocked my foundations. My Dad always worked. He always said he might not be some high-powered executive, but without him to deliver the mail, the executive would be useless. He had over thirty years in now with the USPS. "If that's what you want, Dad." I still couldn't summon much interest, at least for the moment.
"Justine, I don't know what happened to you, but I do know it's tearing you apart. Your mother isn't helping, with her constant jabs about Caleb, but you need help. My biggest fear in life has always been losing you. When you were born, you were so tiny, so fragile. I couldn't wait for you to grow, so I wouldn't worry so much about you being hurt." He placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. "I had no idea the worry would only get worse, as the potential hurts grew larger."
More tears came, and refused to be contained. "I don't know what to do, Daddy." I turned into his arms and cried my heart out, just like I did when I was twelve and didn't get invited to the party of the year.
He wrapped me in his arms and rocked me, just like he did back then. For a few moments, I felt truly safe, protected. Nothing could hurt me as long as my Daddy watched over me, took care of me. For the first time in years, I truly relaxed.
And still, I couldn't tell him what happened. But the unconditional acceptance melted a little of the icy wall I'd erected around my soul.
We sat there like that for a long time, and the evening waned around us, and darkness started to fall. "I'm sorry, Daddy. I've let you down, and myself. I just feel…lost."
"Baby, you haven't let anyone down, except maybe yourself, by not facing whatever happened. You're a good person. You're dedicated to your work, to the students. I've worried about you, but I've never been disappointed. All I've ever asked is that you do your best. You've never done anything less." He dropped a kiss to the top of my head, just like when I was a child. "The moon looks really close tonight."
I swallowed back more tears and nodded. "Yeah, it does."
"You know, that big ol' moon is the best listener we could ask for. She never judges. Never gives unwanted advice. Just listens and lets us unload our burdens. Sometimes, just sharing the trouble, even if it's only with the moon, makes things a little better." He ruffled my hair and kissed my head again. "I'm going inside, baby. Doors and windows are closed, just in case you want to have a talk with that ol' girl."
He gave me another hug, and left.
I sat there for a long time, just staring at the night sky. The moon hung there, impassive. Unchanging. The thought of talking to some chunk of rock in the sky seemed foolish. How could that help anything?
My grandmother's voice stirred from my memory. Child, there is nothing so terrible that it can't be shared with God. He might not always give us the answers we want, but he always listens.
> Maybe it didn't matter if the listener was a chunk of rock, a tree, or a deity. Maybe the act of telling was the important part.
I started to speak, softly, self-conscious, fearful of being heard. "I locked up after Movie Night, and stopped at the store…" It took hours, with long periods of silence, and long periods of sobs, before I finally managed to tell it all.
When it was all out there, I sat, drained and exhausted, every wound opened and raw. And now, I had to find a way to cover it all back up again.
20
Fabio
Funeral parlors were fucking miserable places, no matter where they were. This one was no different. The man waiting at the door was the same one who helped with the arrangements, in what looked like the same dark grey suit.
He opened the door and offered his hand. "Mr. Reach." That damn solemn expression got the fuck all over my nerves. "Right this way." His gaze flicked over me, taking in the jeans, boots, dark gray t-shirt, and cut, and his mouth turned even lower with disapproval.
It took everything I had not to make some smartass remark about motherfuckers in cheap suits needing to keep their sour grapes to themselves. Bastard probably already worried I would send them more business. And he could be right about that, starting with him.
Okay, it wasn't just his expression that set my teeth on edge. The whole ritual felt fucked up. Explaining to the kids, mostly Tyler, what they would see and hear seemed like the ultimate wrong. I chose to have the caskets closed, since I had no idea how the kids might react to seeing their parents that way. Hell, I had no idea how I would feel.
For the first hour, the kids and I sat there alone. Nicole cried a little, but Tyler was mostly fascinated with the flowers, the rows of chairs, and the piano to one side. When the Family Only time ended, Crank came in.
"You guys feel like going to get something to eat?" He leaned down with a conspiratorial wink. "I asked Ms. Channing to have dinner with me, but she won't unless you're there, too."
Tyler gave an enthusiastic nod, excited at the prospect of dinner, but Nicole shook her head. "If it's okay, I'd like to stay here."
