by A. J. Downey
“I don’t think he loves her anymore. I think he feels, I don’t know, responsible for her…” she said and cringed.
“Only good explanation. Do you see what’s happening here?” I asked her. Her face fell and she sighed out.
“Honestly the whole thing makes my head hurt and makes me really, really tired,” she said miserably.
“I can imagine,” I said soberly.
“You know how you asked me what I needed?” she asked and her voice sounded timid and small.
“Yeah,” I said encouragingly.
“I really need a hug,” she said and I smiled. I got up and finished turning down the blankets right from under her and got into bed. I hugged her close and she settled with her head on my shoulder and it felt so good.
“Where has your dad been in all of this?” I asked her. It was the one thing that was bothering me.
“I love my dad, I didn’t want him to worry. I thought I could handle things on my own and I really did think that things were okay between me and Andy,” she murmured.
“Were you happy? I mean really happy?” I asked her.
“I thought I was,” she said quietly.
“What changed your mind?” I asked.
She was silent for a long time. I fought the urge to ask her again. Finally she sighed out and I realized she was sound asleep. I sighed myself and put a hand behind my head, staring at the ceiling, my other arm around my beautiful girl.
I wanted her like I’ve never wanted anything in my life. I wanted her to feel safe, and happy, well except for when I intentionally scared the hell out of her for my own gratification. I told her I was her friend before anything and I meant it. Tomorrow I would be just that. Her friend, at the same time I needed to try and figure out a way to hold and touch her as much as possible. Not for me, but for her… Though it was a huge bonus for me too.
The poor woman was as touch starved as I’d ever seen someone. My self, included. She was abused just as surely as I had ever been too. Granted she may not have been beat to shit like me or Ashton but a person can only endure so much negative vitriol. She’d been berated and gas lighted into thinking it was all her own fault for so long that she was like a delicate flower crushed under her mother’s stiletto and Andy’s wingtip.
Her own fucking family. I wished I could say I was surprised, but rich, poor, it made no difference. Douchebags came in every color of the rainbow, were every race, creed and sexual orientation. There were good people and bad people from any and every walk of life and then there were some of us who walked the center line between both lanes.
On a good day I was one of those. On a not so good day I was squarely in the black. I was trying very hard to have more good days than bad and for the most part I’d been pretty damned successful. Hayden made me want to try even harder than I already did and I was already trying really damned hard for my boy.
He was ten going on eleven. A good kid, into sports like his dad. His mom had met and fell in love with a guy when he was six. You better believe I vetted him, looked into him; stalked his ass for months. I needed to make sure my son, and yes even his mother, no matter how much she hated me, were going to be safe. I couldn’t find anything on the guy. He was as decent as he came and I thanked God for that every day. Even if the big man and I weren’t on the best of terms.
Connor was a good kid and we had a good relationship. Aimee had taken him with good reason when he was three, by the time he was four I was deep in the land of self-pity and barely saw him, by the time he was five I was on the road to getting my shit together and by the time he was six I was clean and took Aimee’s ass to the mat for the right to see him on the regular.
Never, not once did I ever not pay my child support, no matter how fucked up I was I always provided for her and my boy. I still did, even though she’d remarried. Connor was my kid and I worked my ass off to get them the money they needed to be comfortable. I’d missed out on way too much and I’d be damned if I’d miss out on anymore.
Another point of pride that I held. I had never, not once laid a hand on either of them. No matter how pissed off I got.
I looked down at Hayden’s angelic face, her edges soft and smooth with a deep and dreamless sleep and for the thousandth time worried that I was doing things all wrong where she was concerned. I had to admit to myself that she was still here. I didn’t know what that meant but I had to hope that it meant something good. I closed my eyes and tried to sleep but it was an elusive bastard. Finally I settled into it and when I woke up in the morning it was to an empty bed. I felt a moment of panic when I spied her purple nightgown across the room’s chair. I got up quickly and threw on the same shorts I’d worn last night and a tee over my head. I padded downstairs and stopped when Miranda, the hostess lady for the B&B called out.
“Mr. Butler!” I turned and gave her my best scowl.
“Reaver.” I corrected.
“Yes, well, Ms. Michaels asked me to tell you that you could find her on the beach.” She said with a smile.
“Yes, well, nothing. It’s Reaver. Butler is the name of a man I never met and never care to, who left me in the care of an abusive fuck who destroyed mine and my mom’s lives. Don’t say it again.” I fixed her with a hard look then told her, “Thanks for telling me where she’s at.”
I headed out the door leaving Miranda with her mouth agape, her eyes a little wide but the bitch deserved it as far as I was concerned. I’d tried polite. At least polite by my standards.
Hayden was out in the sun, sitting in the sand staring out at the water a ways between the mansion and the sea. I went out to her but she was a million miles away lost in her own thoughts. I sat down in the sand behind her and eased up so my legs were to either side of her and left her be. I sat with her cradled protectively in front of me without touching her and kept my knees bent, my arms on the outsides of my legs, just content to be here with her.
I watched her as she watched the gently crashing waves and honestly there wasn’t anything more peaceful, more tranquil than this right here. It was a good way to start the morning as any.
Chapter 6
Hayden…
I woke before Reaver to find I was snug against him, my back to his front though free to move. His arm lay atop his body, over his hip and down his leg. The other curled beneath his head. I slipped out of bed and dressed quickly in my swimsuit and shorts from the day before and slipped on my crocheted beach cover up hugging it in front of me.
I craved sunlight and time to think, to meditate on the last few days, and so I slipped out and down the stairs. I found the hostess in the kitchen and told her if Reaver should come looking that I could be found on the beach. I didn’t want him thinking I’d taken off.
I walked out a ways and sat down in the sand to do some reflection. My eyes staring blankly at some distant point over the water. My breathing deep and even I sat legs in front of me hands on the front of my ankles. Not the traditional cross legged position for meditation but I’d learned a long time ago that meditation required that which worked for you. Not, what was the generally accepted standard.
My thoughts turned to Reaver. He had told me more than I had ever bargained for last night and in turn I suppose I had done the same. I hadn’t even told Ashton of Andy’s cheating.
I turned over everything Reaver had said to me about my ex and my mother in my head, studied it, really thought about it, and I sighed. I didn’t know whether to feel relieved or duped. I knew my mother had problems, was narcissistic to an extent, but never in a million years did I think I was as weak as I had been where she was concerned. I was disappointed in myself and I vowed from here on out to be stronger willed.
Reaver had asked me if I’d been happy. I thought I had. I wasn’t naïve, I mean relationships of every kind required hard work and dedication right? But now, looking back, I realized it required the work of both parties. Both needed to be invested and one couldn’t bear all the weight or they’d be crushed… Which is what I had
allowed to happen to me.
I had tried to follow the silly notions that my mother had put in my head. That to be a good and dutiful wife was to be silent and endure, which was laughable really. I mean since when had Margaret Michaels ever silently endured anything? Let alone her daughter.
I sighed.
I had always been my daddy’s girl and had spent most of my childhood in the care of a nanny. My mother had been far too busy with her social clubs and garden parties. The only time I had been included was more as a doll, as a point of pride only in what a pretty and well behaved daughter I was.
And I was. Completely and unfailingly polite, never a hair out of place. I strived so hard to be the perfect daughter for my mother in hopes that she might somehow notice me, take more than a passing interest in me… but when dad was home, oh that was when I truly lived. If it was one thing my dad was good at it was lavishing me with attention when he managed to be home.
He didn’t always get me everything I wanted but I didn’t care as long as he spent time with me. Which he did as often as he could. In retrospect it was probably to make up for the time my mother missed out on. Once the party was over it was like she put me back on my shelf until the next time she needed to pull me down to impress someone.
I saw it now. Clear as day… and not only did it hurt, it made me angry.
I huffed out another great sigh.
And then there was Reaver.
Reaver who looked at me every time as if I mattered. Who bent over backwards to keep me happy, to keep me safe all while knowing that I belonged to another man. Reaver who pushed me in all the right ways to work through the ugly inside my head. Who took on my burdens as if they were his own, who saw the real me and not my daddy’s money. Who didn’t care about my daddy’s money!
Reaver who harbored such deep and ugly hurts mine absolutely paled in comparison. Who held a dark and sordid monster inside his head and did everything in his power to keep it in check.
Dangerous, attractive, cracked and scary Reaver who killed men and liked it.
No, not quite. He’d said that hadn’t he? That he liked the fear part of it. Not necessarily the killing… although maybe some of that too. The way he’d described the path of the knife… I shuddered involuntarily.
I’d called Ashton last night and I’d asked her something.
How did she cope knowing that Trigger held a stone cold killer inside his head?
Her answer was simple. She loved him, good bad and in between. That he’d never given her any reason not to love him and that she knew beyond any shadows that they were meant for each other. Then she asked if Reaver had opened up to me. I’d told her yes and she’d said that he’d never told her anything about him… Just Trigger and that I was likely the only other soul he’d ever confided in.
Her earlier comments had both helped and didn’t. Her final comments brought with them some semblance of understanding.
Reaver confided in me. Reaver trusted me and I… Well I knew I trusted him. I knew I had no reason not to trust him. I saw it in his face and even in his eyes when they were coldest winter skies. I’d seen the killer peeking out and felt it down to my bones that while it was healthy to fear that part of him that I didn’t have to. Parts of Reaver terrified me but he would never hurt me. Not once. Not ever.
He would never humiliate me in public, at least not on purpose. He would never berate me or make something my fault that wasn’t really my fault. Reaver was safe, despite the monster I sometimes glimpsed that lived inside his head.
I swallowed and came back to myself, a little steadier, a little calmer than when I’d gone. I felt more centered than I had in a while and when I came back from my internal musings it was in the protective cage of Reaver’s body. He sat behind me, legs to either side of mine, a hair’s breadth from my back. So close I could feel his body’s heat. His still, quiet, energy enveloping me. I closed my eyes and leaned back into him and cuddled close, pulling his arms around me and he relaxed.
I could feel the relief swirl through his aura and I felt surrounded by his love as much as his cool, still influence.
“Welcome back,” he said and I smiled.
“Thanks,” I said softly.
“I thought for sure the things I told you would be too much,” he said and his voice was cautious.
“At first it was but we all have some sort of past and you’ve never done anything to hurt me… Quite the opposite.” I looked up at him and he looked down at me.
“I’d never hurt you, at least not on purpose,” he said echoing my earlier thoughts. I nodded. He shuddered and held me tighter and I tipped my head to the side.
“Is this okay or is it too confusing?” I asked.
“What?” he asked.
“Holding me like this,” I said.
“Hayden Baby, I told you I’m here, for whatever you need,” he said and rocked me gently from side to side.
“Okay, because it’s really nice… being held by you like this,” I confessed. He smiled.
“Yeah it is,” he agreed.
“Reaver, is it okay that I’m still confused? That… that I don’t really know how…” He stopped me with a gentle chiding look.
“Baby, just because I love you doesn’t mean I expect you to know what to do with it, doesn’t mean that I expect you to love me back. I have to earn that and you know what? Not sure I can. Not sure I deserve something as sweet or as wonderful as you are.” He shrugged. “Doesn’t mean I expect you to jump right back into dating, doesn’t mean I expect you to want to date me.” He kissed my forehead and my eyes drifted shut. The touch of his lips on my skin made me feel all glowy inside.
“I just want to be a part of your life. I’m happy to just be your friend, be in your orbit for now. No expectations. I just like being near you,” he said, his breath warm against my skin. I opened my eyes and smiled.
“Promise to tell me if any of that changes?” I asked.
“I promise,” he said.
He cradled me and we stared out over the water for the longest time. The silence was comfortable and I was grateful. I finally felt like I was mere feet away from being back on solid ground.
Reaver pulled his cell from his pocket and looked at the time.
“C’mon Doll, let’s go get some breakfast,” he said and helped me to my feet.
I smiled, “Sounds perfect,” I said.
We ate quietly for the first few minutes when Marcy and Tom joined the table. The other couple arrived as well. Alice and Joe weren’t newlyweds though. I glanced up at Reaver and caught a flicker of motion under the table. His hand found my knee and I gave him a dirty look.
“Don’t you dare!” I threatened remembering the unpleasantness he wrought with a mere pinch of his fingers.
Both couples looked at us sharply. Reaver started grinning.
“Relax Doll,” he said and patted my knee. I snorted.
“That’d be folly around you,” I said.
“You know it!” he affirmed and popped a bite of bacon into his mouth. He chewed and sighed. The other couples went quietly back to their conversations.
“So where’s that haunted lighthouse at you wanna see?” he asked me. I smiled.
“Up the coast about forty-five minutes. Can we go?” I asked.
“Does the Pope shit in the woods?” he asked. I laughed. Alice gasped and looked affronted. Reaver winked at her.
“Mr. Reaver!” Our hostess admonished from the kitchen doorway.
I blinked and wondered how he’d gotten her to stop calling him Mr. Butler. Reaver smiled the beatific smile he and his cousin Shelly shared when they were trouble making and I stifled a giggle behind my hand.
“I’d like to remind you that there are other guests at my table! Such language is not appreciated,” she admonished and Reaver shrugged.
“Guess now we’re even aren’t we Miranda?” he asked with one of his icy cold looks. She scowled at him and nodded curtly and disappeared into the kitchen.
> “What was that about?” Marcy asked and with a flick of a switch Reaver’s warm smile and charming side was back in place.
“What was what about?” he asked pleasantly and Marcy smiled and shook her head ruefully.
Alice, a woman in her early thirties gave Reaver a disgusted look. I sighed. Technically she and I should have been cut from the same cloth. By that, I meant that she had money or came from it. Her clothes were designer and perfectly tailored. She had on linen slacks and a rose colored silk blouse with a creamy cardigan. A string of pearls graced her throat and the diamond wedding set on her finger sparkled. The stone in the main setting of her engagement ring was a cushion cut diamond as big as my thumbnail.
She wore her dishwater blonde hair in a severe French twist and her husband, Joe, was just as stuffy in dress if not attitude. He wore pressed gray slacks and a crisp white button down shirt. Expensive black loafers were on his feet. His shirt at least was undone at the collar by the top two buttons and his cuffs were undone and turned back midway up his forearms.
He was going prematurely gray at his temples, the white standing out against his milk chocolate brown hair which was perfectly styled just like his wife’s. Joe’s only saving grace was the sparkle of mirth in his grey-blue eyes whenever Reaver irritated his wife. He reminded me of a younger version of my dad that way.
They hadn’t introduced themselves at all when they sat down. Miranda had done it for them. Reaver and I were hardly worth their notice until Reaver did something uncouth enough to garner Alice’s ire. Once he realized that his lewd, crude and tattooed ways got to her he dialed it up a notch, which made me smile. He was incorrigible in all the right ways in my opinion.
Life was just way too short.
I chewed thoughtfully on Miranda’s French toast.
“Reaver?” I asked quietly.
“Yeah Doll?” he asked.
“Why do you think you love me?” I asked him and speared him with my gaze. He looked right back at me a slight smile curving his mouth.
