by A. J. Downey
That didn’t leave me much to choose from. I went downstairs and found Ashton and Trigger in the kitchen, she poured me a cup of coffee without being asked and I made a noise of approval. It was all I was capable of before that first sweet hit of caffeine. I hopped up on the bar stool beside Trig’s and sat at the counter with him. Ashton moved wraith like through the kitchen fixing breakfast. After a few swallows of coffee Trig slid a box across the granite countertop at me. I blinked and picked it up.
“You guys bought me a phone already?” I asked.
“Nope. Reaver brought it by with Connor this morning. It was the first thing he did after he got his boy out of Juvie.” I nodded and tried to force down my disappointment that he didn’t come see me. He had Connor with him, of course he couldn’t, the fact he brought the phone… he shouldn’t have, not with his other responsibilities.
“Your carrier would sell it to him but wouldn’t connect everything until you came in person. Account confidentiality and all of that,” Ashton made a face and I grinned.
“How was Connor?” I asked and both of them were very subdued. Trigger unlocked his phone and slid it across the granite at me. I picked it up and went out onto their back deck for some privacy before making the call.
“Hayden?” his voice came across the line by way of greeting.
“Yeah,” I said and couldn’t keep the smile out of my voice.
“You were out when I got there this morning. I didn’t want to wake you, did you get your phone?”
“Trig gave it to me and you shouldn’t have. I heard you had Connor with you, is he alright?” I bit my lower lip afraid of the answer.
“He’s scared, they wouldn’t let me have him last night. I slept on the bike in the parking lot and got him out first thing this morning. Some of the bigger boys gave him a rough time. He came out with a busted lip and a black eye. He’s asleep right now. I think he was too scared to last night. He took some other things other than just soda and candy. A couple of prepaid cellphones and some of the minute card things. I asked him about it. Some of the neighborhood kids convinced him that if he did it they’d let him be a part of their little club. When the cops brought him home Aimee had a shit fit and refused to pay for the things he took. The shop owner’s tired of the little thugs stealing from his shop and the items were just over the amount so he wanted to prosecute and Aimee told the cops to take him. Even the cops were confused by her reaction. They’d never seen a mother want to throw the book at her own son. I think it made a little more sense to them when they saw me,” he sounded rueful at the last and throughout the entire telling sounded just so tired… My heart went out to him, I wanted to fix it but I didn’t know how.
“So what happens now?” I asked softly.
“Now I have Connor and I’m not taking him back to his mom until I’m sure everything is straight. Might be a few days, might be a few weeks, I don’t know Babe. It’s summer vacation so I don’t have to worry about getting him to school which is a bonus. I’m going to have a talk with the shop owner, take Connor with me. I’m hoping I can sort everything out. Get him doing some community service, that sort of thing before his court date which is in a week and a half. I don’t want my boy to be like his old man,” his voice became gruff as if he fought down tears and I said gently,
“I don’t know Reaver, I wouldn’t trade Connor’s old man for anything in the world. I like you just the way you are.” We were both quiet for a long time and he said finally,
“I don’t deserve someone like you.”
I laughed a little. “That’s funny, I keep thinking the same thing about you! You’ve been so amazing these last few days.” I heard him smile.
“I love you, Doll,” he said and I bit my lip.
“I trust you, Reaver,” I said softly, reluctant to tell him I loved him back, not because I didn’t… I did, didn’t I? I sighed inwardly and felt my shoulders drop. Truth was I didn’t know. I thought I’d loved Andy, thought he’d loved me too… but that had ended rather badly. One thing I knew for absolute certain was I trusted Reaver like I could never trust Andy and in some ways I think that was worth more. Wasn’t it?
“I get what you’re saying, Doll and I don’t blame you one bit. Maybe someday you can say it too, but I know plain as day how you feel about me I see it in your eyes, see it…” he paused as if checking on something, and maybe he was, I didn’t know where his son was in relation to him, “… in the way you move under me and ‘round me. Words are kind of pitiful in the face of all of that.” I heard the chime of metal against metal and could envision him picking up the coin out of the necklaces he wore and smiled. My hand was clenched around the one I wore.
“I miss you,” I said. “Is that pathetic?”
“Nope. I miss you too. I wish I could say ‘I’ll see you tomorrow’ or give you some kind of time frame but…”
“No don’t worry about any of that. You take care of your son. Text me when you can, call me when you can, I understand and it will be enough,” I assured him.
“I want you to meet him someday, just not now. I don’t want to overwhelm him with too much new. I’ve never, you know, been with anybody that he’s ever gotten to meet. I’m afraid with everything that too much change would be just that, too much.” I swallowed hard. He wanted me to meet his son? That was a bit overwhelming for me as of right now. I didn’t even know what we were doing. Still, I was touched, honored that he would place me before any other woman he’d had in his life up to this point.
“Okay,” I said. I heard a sound, like shifting and a boyish moan.
“I gotta go Babe, Connor’s having a nightmare,” Reaver sounded distressed.
“Okay, I’ll call you when I can,” I said.
“Okay.”
We hung up. I sighed and tipped my face up to the warm sun, closing my eyes, letting the light from our daytime star paint my vision in a fiery wash of red through my eyelids as I soaked in the warmth. It was almost as warm as it was in Florida but had none of the oppressive humidity for which I was grateful. I breathed slow and deep and heard the slider open and close behind me.
“Yoga?” Ashton asked.
“Sounds like a really fine idea,” I answered.
We did a lot that day. Yoga first, then we got my cellphone up and running. I had Andy’s number blocked by my carrier. I didn’t want or need to hear anything from him, ever again. Paying the monthly fee was so going to be worth it to never have to hear another lie or lame excuse. After that, we stopped at the cleaners where I was grateful to find that I had at least two complete outfits that were appropriate for my line of work. One of them happened to be my favorite which helped brighten me up a little bit. We stopped by this little boutique where they had a killer shoe sale going on so I could pick up some shoes to go with my meager stack of salvaged clothes. I bought two pairs and a new purse, so that helped me brighten up just a little bit more. I ended up with at least one appointment that day and it became the last and the hardest stop. I had to meet with the contractor that employed Reaver about my townhome and see the damage for myself. Ashton and Trigger both went with me.
It was so deceptive. The outside of the townhome was as it had ever looked. The small patch of yard neatly trimmed, the little lights lining the drive up to the garage, marking out the border between the concrete and the grass were all as they should be. I got out of the back of the Jeep and Trigger followed me and Ashton up the walk. Ashton held my hand and I didn’t realize I had hers in a white knuckled grip.
I knocked on my own front door and it opened. A man in his late forties, early fifties answered. His salt and pepper hair peeking out from a scuffed and dirty white hard hat. He wore one of those neon yellow tee shirts with the silvery reflective bars on it and a pair of sturdy white pants. His boots were steel toed and brown, spattered with paint and white dust. He had an ample beer gut that hung over his belt but his blue eyes sparkled jovially, wrinkles from smiling and laughing fanning from the outside corners of his eye
s.
“Ms. Michaels?” he asked and stuck out his hand. I took it and shook back.
“That’s me,” I said.
“I’m John Gibson of Gibson drywall and general contracting. Sorry about you having to knock on your own front door. Here are your keys. We changed the lock for you. No charge. It’s a damned shame what happened here.” I took the keys gratefully.
“Thank you, you didn’t have to do that,” I said and meant it.
“Yeah, yeah I did. Come on in, I’ll show you what needs to be done.” He wasn’t smiling anymore and I quailed a bit inside. The damage was stark and immediate the second we stepped through the door.
“They damaged just about every wall in the place. Some of ‘em worse than others but I’m afraid it’s more than that. They ripped out the walls to get to the wiring. Copper goes for a lot of money in the scrap business.” I blinked at him.
“They stole my wiring?” I asked incredulous.
“Afraid so. Is there any place you would like to start?” he asked.
“Upstairs,” I mumbled.
It was horrible. It looked like a bomb had gone off in my house. They’d ripped fixtures and wiring from the walls in every room. The whirlpool bath, the shower doors, the shower head were all gone, the tile broken and smashed in places in the master bathroom. They’d even taken the toilet and sinks! The counter smashed to facilitate removal of the sink basins. There were gaping holes in my carefully painted walls in my bedroom and long tears in the drywall between them where the wire had been ripped free. The carpet was even gone in here.
“Have you done anything?” I asked.
“Like what?”
“Like take up the carpet?”
“No Honey, they stole that too.”
I nodded and chewed on my bottom lip. The guest room had its carpet but the wall damage was much the same. Downstairs the bathroom was mostly intact. No holes, but the toilet was missing as was the sink.
The stove, fridge, dishwasher, just everything was ripped out, the hardwood floors streaked with splintered gouges in the dining room where the heavy appliances had been dragged through. The kitchen floor sported broken tile and again the walls were much the same. I don’t think a single wall remained intact. The living room was bad. Swaths of fresh primer hastily striped the walls where they didn’t have holes and I pointed to it.
“What was that?” I asked.
“I did that. You didn’t need to see what they spray painted up there,” he said.
“What was it?” I asked dully.
“Miss, you really don’t need to know,” he said and the sympathy in his gaze did me in. I felt hot tears mist my eyes and strong hands fell onto my shoulders kneading them comfortingly. I sniffed and Ashton came around and hugged me from the front. I hugged her back tightly and stared at the fresh gray blank slate of primer on my wall and gave in to the deep well of self-pity that was finally boiling over.
I let myself ask, why was this happening to me?
Chapter 17
Reaver…
“She keeps calling out that she’s fine and won’t come to the door but I know better, she’s in there crying and hasn’t stopped since we got back. I’m not sure what it was about the primer on the wall but it hit her hard somehow,” Trigger said into my ear. I pinched the bridge of my nose between my eyes and looked over at my sleeping son. We’d spent the day together and had done a lot of talking. I’d been sad to realize just how much Aimee fucking hated me. Sadder still to not realize how it had been affecting our son.
I scraped my bottom lip between my teeth and told Trig, “Let me call you back.”
“K man, sorry to be the bearer of bad news,” he said.
“Better to know than be kept in the dark Bro,” I said, and meant it.
“True enough,” he agreed, then, “Later.”
“Later,” I disconnected the call and scrolled through my contacts.
“What up cuz!?” Shelly shouted into the phone by way of greeting.
“Need your help Shells,” I grunted and I swear I could hear her face fall through the line.
“What’s wrong? You never ask me for help,” she said.
I laid it all out on the line, the shit that was going on with Connor and she listened intently, which wasn’t like Shells if it were anybody else, but it wasn’t just anybody else, it was me, so she listened.
“I just need to go out for a few hours. Maybe ‘til morning. Can you watch him for me?” I pleaded.
“I was just going to do homework and was going to take a shot at taking a ride on one of the new guys but I can do homework there and Zander will be there tomorrow or the next day,” she said.
“Loyal still shooting you down?” I asked and I swear I could see her in my head, rolling her eyes in that way that was purely my cousin Shells.
“Loyal is such a God damned prude! It’s driving me crazy!” she exclaimed.
“You ever think he’s just that into you? That he’s waiting for you to come around and see that he wants you and only you and isn’t on board for anything less in return?” I asked her. She was silent for far too long.
“Yeah, well, we both know I’m not any good for that Reav. So let’s not pretend I’m not damaged goods and pretty much no guy would touch me with a ten foot pole if they knew,” she said quietly, I opened my mouth to retort, to deny her crazy fucked up view on her status as desirable because of something she’d had no control over but she stopped me by saying, “Be there in ten,” before hanging up on me.
Fuck. I could only carry so many people right now. I looked over at Connor who was pretty much wracked out from an exhausting day of moving and shaking. As soon as he’d gotten up we’d gone to Mark and Aimee’s. Aimee had had a God damned conniption fit when she’d seen I’d gotten him out of Juvie. I’d told him to stay in the truck and gone in and packed him some clothes, all the while Aimee was screaming at me and Mark stood silently by, arms crossed and stared at her like he’d never seen her before.
Finally when she’d realized she wasn’t going to get a rise out of me she’d gone somewhere in the house and into a room, slamming the door behind her like some petulant fucking child. Mark and I had stared at one another for a long time while I’d waited for him to start in on me.
“For what it’s worth,” he’d said, “I agree with you.” Since Aimee was out of her fucking mind he and I agreed that it was best Connor stay with me for a while.
After that, we’d gone to the shop he’d stolen from and I’d talked the store owner down some. I’d called Dragon and we’d set it up so the prospects and him would run a protection of sorts. We’d rotate in and out of the corner store when the kids were likely to come around with their thieving ways and scare the shit out of them if the owner agreed to take my money and drop the charges. I also set it up with him that Connor would be doing his bitch work for five bucks an hour all the way up until the matched amount of the debt was paid and then some. The shop keep was impressed with me. My son, not so much. Boo fucking hoo, he shouldn’t have had sticky fingers.
After the beat down in Juvie I spared him from having to pick his own switch old school style and I told him he’d best be grateful for that. I think that was what finally put the fear of God into him. I’d never, not once, no matter how badly he behaved, ever hit him or even threatened to. The fact that I hinted at it now had him being a pious little angel. The really exhausting shit came during lunch when he’d cried his fucking eyes out over his mom going on about how much she fucking hated me and in the next breath telling our son how much he looked just like me and it was true. He did. Still, that didn’t give her the damned right.
Mark being the only other rational fucking adult in all of this, had agreed to meeting up and talking about Connor and some of Aimee’s malfunction later on when the dust settled some. Aimee was going to be pissed off if she found out about Mark going behind her back but somehow I didn’t think Mark was going to care.
Shelly showed up as promised and
I let her in to my small trailer. She took one look at Connor and said.
“Awesome. Homework it is,” and sat down at the little table by my kitchen.
“Thanks Shells, I owe you,” I whispered to keep from waking him but the kid was sleeping like the dead.
“No worries Reave, you’ve done so much for me this doesn’t even come close to evening the odds.” I kissed the top of her head and she hugged me awkwardly because of our positions in the extra small space.
“Be back as soon as I can,” I promised.
“Go do whatever needs doing,” she said waving me off. She knew better from experience than to ask me what I got up to late at night.
I left the trailer and pushed my bike out to the road. I didn’t want to fire it up too close and wake my boy. The ride to Trig’s was around a half hour and felt just too damned long. The front door was open, a rectangle of light spilling into the warm summer night. The bright blue tip of Trig’s e-cig signaled his position on the porch swing, he let out a cloud of vapor as I shut off the bike and approached.
“Still cryin’?” I asked. He nodded and I handed off my helmet and glasses, which he set on the swing beside him.
“Go get ‘er tiger,” he said and I gave him the finger over my shoulder. He chuckled and I couldn’t help but smile. Ashton was curled on the couch with a book in her hands.
“Hey Sunshine,” I said as I went for the stairs.
“I’m glad you could come,” she said as I hit the bottom step.
“For her, always.”
I took the stairs two at a time and stopped outside the guest room door. I could hear her faint sobbing from inside and it hurt my heart a little. I tried the handle but it was locked. Not for long. I flicked open one of my thinner blades and worked it between the jamb and door. It was an old lock you could jimmy with a credit card but this way was more fun. I tried the handle again and it turned, smooth as butter. I went into the room.
