by Heather Anne
"I’ve been there dude," I admit and he looks at me funny.
"Really?"
"Yeah, I was 20 and my girl got pregnant." I swallow the lump in my throat as I think about the first time Lainey got pregnant. The beginning of what would turn out to be a world of hurt, pain, and depression where children were concerned. "Well, my parents were already gone and even though my grandmother and her parents were pissed at first, they eventually came around." I think back to that time in my life, then the miscarriage and I have to stop. I need to get these memories out of my head
"I didn't know you had kids," Luke says and I breathe out.
"I don't. She got sick and ended up miscarrying." His eyes widen in shock and I realize I just scared him. "Is Allyson healthy?" I ask and he nods. "Ok, then stop the worrying about her and the baby and let's work on a job for Allyson and a place to live."
"Where's your girl now?" The question surprises me and I look to the angel and back to him. "She's not around anymore," I say and he follows my line of sight and an O shapes his lips.
"Is that why you go to the group?" Fuck. This kid is getting too deep.
"Something like that." I change the subject. "So, Allyson needs a job right?"
He nods. "Well, it looks like you are in luck because our reception just quit. The hours can be flexible, however, we don't offer benefits. Think she would be interested?"
"Yeah, totally. She loves art and she wanted to go into graphic design so this would be great," he says.
"Ok, so one problem down. Next is a place to live. Did you know I own this building?" He shakes his head. "I bet you didn't know there is a two-bedroom apartment on top of here that is vacant. Landon just moved into his own house a few months ago."
His face lights up.
"Rent is negotiable. When you bring her by tomorrow, I will show you guys the place. It comes furnished, by the way."
"Seriously, Grayson? Thank you so much." His eyes fill with tears.
"No problem, man. Now those are out of the way, what else?"
"Shit, man. How the fuck do we talk to her parents? And when they cut her off, she won’t have insurance," he groans.
"Would you guys be comfortable talking to Skylar?" I ask.
He nods. "Yeah she's cool and Allyson really likes her."
"Good. Before she moved here, she was a social worker and a guidance counselor. I am sure she can help you guys with getting the medical assistance Allyson needs as well as advice on how to talk to her parents."
Shit. I hope I’m not making any assumptions about Skylar's willingness to help. Who am I kidding? That woman has a heart of gold and has taken a liking to both Luke and Allyson.
"You think she could help?" His voice is lighter.
"Yeah man. I'll tell you what. I’ll go talk to her and then you and Allyson come to my house around, say, 7:30?"
"Yeah, we can do that.” The hope in his voice makes me smile and for once, I feel good about myself. The guilt of taking the pills last night tries to come up, but I won't let it. We exchange numbers and I text him my address. I walk him out and Landon and Hudson are bullshitting at the reception desk.
"Alright, kid. Try not to worry and I’ll see you later."
He reaches his hand out to shake it. "Thanks, man." I shake his and he leaves.
I turn and face my brothers.
"What was that about?" Landon asks and I tell him and Hudson what's going on.
Landon agrees to hire Allyson and we talk about what we can do for rent then Hudson says, "So the kids and Skylar are coming to your house tonight?"
"I have to talk to Skylar, but yeah, that seems to be the plan right now." They both gawk at me. "What?" I get defensive.
"You never let anyone other than family come to your house," Landon says.
I have no idea what's going on with them and I’m starting to get annoyed. "And?" I lean over the desk to look at the calendar to see I have a consult coming in a half hour, a touch up right after that.
"I wonder how Skylar’s going to like your floral couch or the pictures of you and Lainey all over the place." Hudson is smug.
I freeze. Fuck me. How could I have been so stupid? I was so wrapped up in helping the kid plus the added benefit of seeing Skylar again, I didn't think. "Shit!" I say out loud.
"Why don't you see if you can do it at her house, bro?" Landon suggests and I shake my head. "Nah I’ll leave right after the touch up and figure it out," my brothers both gasp and I shrug. Guilt and shame start to creep up as well as a feeling of relief when I say. "Maybe this is a sign that it's time."
"This girl has you all twisted," Hudson says and Landon punches him in the arm.
"Don't I know it?"
It feels good to admit that. To show my brothers, and maybe even myself, that I’m not the unfeeling bastard I try to be.
"I wish I could help you dude but I am booked up all day," Landon says.
"No worries I’m going to see if I can find a couch on-line and text Carson to see about moving that couch out of there," I say.
"I'll help," Hudson offers and my chest constricts.
He is offering an olive branch. After all this time and all the fucked up shit I did to him, I would be an idiot not to take it. "Appreciate it man."
He gives me a grunt and chin lift. All I can think about is that it's progress - then I think of the pills. Maybe I should come clean to them and tell them how I fucked up. The war raging in my mind is a brutal battle between right and wrong, surrender and giving up, victory and defeat.
Chapter Eighteen
I wake up the next morning and stretch, feeling the delicious ache and reveling in it. My body is sore in places I never knew existed and I smile thinking about the man who made me that way. Grayson Davis is the most beautiful, broken man to ever invade my life.
Not that I had much experience with guys, but with him, I didn't feel insecure or nervous - I just felt. I felt sexy and so turned on by his filthy mouth and at times, rough touch. His intensity freaks me out in a way. I feel like he sees right through me; feels everything I am feeling which causes him to push away from me. Since the minute we met, he has kept me at arm's length and at first, I was ok with it, yet after last night the way he pulled me closer than I ever thought possible just to push me back out again.
I’m scared. Not of him in a physical sense. In fact, I’ll take his physical any day. The way my small body fits with his larger one in a perfect mold of lust and desire, makes my belly flip and that right there is the issue. I have feelings for him. I think I did the minute he was an asshole to me in the coffee shop.
I think of Tim and I never knew that he had the power to destroy me and destroy me he did, in the worst possible way. With Grayson, I know he will wreak havoc on my already fragile emotional state and I’m not sure if I have the strength to recover. He is closed off and in pain, even though he will never tell me that. He just doesn't realize that he doesn't have to because I already know. At times it's written all over his face, reflected in his eyes and I’m sure if I had the chance to examine his body, his story is in black, white, and color branded onto his skin.
My mind wanders to when he left and the loss I felt in an instant. That was after one night of mind blowing, explosive orgasms. What happens when he leaves after a fierce emotional attachment occurs? How can I let myself get lost in him when I am just beginning to find myself? The answer is simple yet so convoluted - I can't. Being in his presence unravels me. Thinking about him ignites me. Giving in will annihilate me.
I sigh as I get dressed and head to the kitchen. I’m not an impulsive person by nature and that’s what last night was. Impulsive, reckless, and perfect - yet it can't happen again. I frown at the thought. I make some coffee, grab my tablet and head out the back door to my favorite part of the house.
The sun has just risen and the serenity I feel on mornings like this is how I know I made the right decision to move here. The way the ripples in the soft waves look like liquid silver from th
e sun's reflection, the sound of the seagulls, the gentleness of the breeze sets a calm over me I haven't felt it in what seems like ages.
As I settle in on the wicker sofa, I take a sip of my coffee and free my mind. No thoughts of Grayson, or Tim. No decisions to be made. In this moment, I am me. I am the person I came here to reconnect with, to nurture. I haven't been me in so long. I sigh out loud, kicking myself from my thoughts and open my tablet. I panic as I see the name of my attorney pop up on my inbox. I open the e-mail and I groan. When is this ever going to end?
I skim through the e-mail and the attached Petition and I am fuming. The victims' families are trying to bring a case against the Department of Veterans Affairs claiming the treatment Tim received at the VA Hospital was lax, citing insignificant training of their staff and medical malpractice. WHAT THE FUCK?
From what my attorney says in the e-mail, they need my permission and are naming me as one of the Petitioners. I shake my head in misunderstanding. They fight me, berate me, blame me and now they want me to join in their crusade? Not happening. I have poured through those medical records myself. Re-read every letter Tim ever sent me. Countless hours spent rehashing and reliving the never-ending nightmare and I am done. I refuse to live in the past. I refuse to be a catalyst for something so frivolous.
I send my attorney a not so nice response that tells him in not those exact words that they can go fuck themselves and ask if there is any way to get them to stop the silliness. Nothing is going to bring their family members back. Nothing is going to change the outcome of that day because, as much as I can recount it over and over down to the second, what's done is done. I have accepted that. I don't like it, but the only thing I can do is pick myself up, brush myself off, and move forward.
I’m never going to be the same. I know this and I feel I have a done a pretty good job at finding a balance between the old me and the new me that has been forever changed.
I owe this place and the people here for that. Being in a small coastal town, one would think that everyone is up in everyone else's business, passing judgment and gossiping about each other, but that is not the case here. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that Lauren and her grandmother are loved throughout the community and the Davis brothers are feared. That makes me giggle because as intimidating as they all can be, they are great guys. Maybe just maybe it's me and the fact that here I don't have to look over my shoulder and wonder if someone will pop out from behind the bushes or from the next aisle in the grocery store to ask me questions I don't have the answers to.
I finish my coffee lost in thought. It's only nine in the morning and I don't have to be at Beans until eleven. Emerson laughed at me the other day when I told her how much I was working.
"You are the most non-rich rich person I have ever met."
I laughed at that. "What do you mean?"
"You don't have to work, but you do. You aren't pretentious or entitled and you live beneath your means. It's admirable."
I scoffed. "It's just how I am. All I need is my cat, my friends, a good book, and an even better cup of coffee and I’m golden."
I have a nice sized bank account due to inheritance and I don't touch a lot of it because aside from the fund I set up after the tragedy, I want to do something good in this world - I just haven't decided what. I want to make a positive difference in this world and I was doing that in my own way in Arlington until that was ripped away from me.
As much as I miss working with kids, I really do love working at Beans and Books. What's not to love? Caffeine and books all in one place! It's almost like a library. If you love a book, you can take it. We just ask that you replace it with one of your favorites. I took it upon myself to revamp the bookshelves and get some of my favorite Indie books in there.
The doorbell rings and I squeal when I see the familiar box with the smiley face on the side. It’s the perfect excuse to go to Beans early.
When I walk into Beans, Lauren and Amy are there and they get excited when they see the box in my arms. We open it up and gush over some of our favorite titles and our favorite series.
"Ooh, looks like there will be a lot of McLeaning going on in here," Amy giggles.
The girls wait on customers while I take the books that are in pretty bad condition down and make a list of what else I should order. I rearrange the shelves, adding the new pretties and admire my handy work.
"Ok girls I am headed out for a few hours, Grandma has an appointment," Lauren tells us.
Both Amy and I wave her off. We’re fairly busy for a Saturday and it's just a taste of what's to come when tourist season is in full swing. Amy and I busy ourselves taking orders, refilling coffees and wiping down tables. Amy heads in the back room to stock up on lids and napkins and I’m behind the counter when a guy I’ve never seen before walks in. He has blonde, slicked back hair, seedy brown eyes and is wearing pale blue, plaid shorts with a white polo shirt with the collar popped. I try not to roll my eyes at him as he leans over the counter. I notice Amy return and she eyes me curiously. I just shrug and turn to the customer.
"What can I get you?" I ask in my sweetest barista voice.
"An iced skinny latte, beautiful."
I hold in my gag as I make him his drink.
"What's your name?" he asks and I point to the name tag on my apron.
"Skylar. That's a gorgeous name for a gorgeous girl."
I give him a look that says are you for real?
"Um, thanks." This guy is beyond creepy and when his hand reaches out to brush a stray hair out of my face, I tense. I have no time to even tell the guy to fuck off because Grayson Davis has me by the arm and is pulling me to the back room.
Chapter Nineteen
I finish the touch-up and head back to my house. I’m in a rush and am counting the days before I can get my truck and bike back. It’s been three weeks since I’ve been home and even though I have been enjoying the walks, especially with Skylar, I miss my bike. I miss feeling the vibrations of the engine and the wind whipping at my face. I walk as fast as I can to my house and when I step inside, I take a look around.
This room holds so many memories and Lainey's touches are apparent. You can see that a woman took care in decorating this room from the worn, floral couch to the knick-knacks placed all around the room to the sheer lacy curtains covering the front windows and to the photographic memories that are displayed on the mantel.
I close my eyes and it's as if I feel her soft touch on my arm. The thought causes the hairs on the back of my neck to stand up. I feel like it’s her way of telling me to let go, but I don't know how. It isn't a matter of accepting the fact that she is gone. That I accepted a long time ago. It's accepting the part I played in her decision to take her own life. It's the suffocating feelings of guilt and the weighing force of shame that stops me from moving forward. A part of me wants to kick myself in the balls for inviting Skylar to my home and the other part of me is so tired of holding onto all of this. It's exhausting. I have heard countless times over the years that I am not to blame. That I did nothing wrong. But that’s bullshit. I should have been there that night. I shouldn’t have gone out and performed with my brothers and drank myself silly. I should have held Lainey and talked with her, cried with her, and grieved with her. Instead, I left her alone and broken.
I can't think about this shit. It makes me twitchy. My hands start to shake; I can feel my erratic pulse so heavy in my neck and I need to stop this feeling. I curse myself for not leaving myself one pill or even one swallow of whiskey. I need something to take the edge off.
I take a break and run my fingers through my hair before heading to the back bedroom to discard the whiskey bottle I threw in the closet last night. With Hudson being here later, I wouldn't put it past him to snoop, and the last thing I need is for that olive branch he extended earlier to break. I grab an empty bag from the kitchen, put the bottle in it, and figure the best way to not leave evidence is to dump it in a trash can or a dumpster on my way
to town.
I need to see Skylar and I hope that she is available to talk to Luke and Allyson. The fear in his eyes and his I give up expression struck a chord deep within me. I know some things about my past may come out tonight and I’m not sure if I’m alright with that, but I also don't feel like I have a choice. It's like I am stuck. I’m stuck in a purgatory between the past and present and both places leave me hollow.
Thank fuck for Carson. His text message pulls me from the downward spiral my mind was headed down as I walk to Beans.
C: Ready when you are.
G: Meet me at the house in an hour. Need to talk to Sky first.
C: Talk huh? Is that code word for quickie?
G: Asshole.
C: Love you too brother.
I laugh at my brother and then start cursing him for bringing up a quickie and Skylar. My dick is constantly hard whenever she is around or even just thinking about her; even more so since last night. I have to tell myself to calm the fuck down. My purpose is not to fuck her, and though I wouldn't complain if she came on to me, I really can't. I need to open up the friend zone, lock her in there and throw away the key. I toss the bag at the end of the block and by the time I get to Beans, I have myself convinced that even after last night, we can pull off the friends thing. Then I open the door and see red.
Some fucking douche wearing plaid shorts and a popped collar is reaching up to move a stray hair that has fallen into Skylar's face and I don't think, I just react. I walk right behind the counter and, with gentle force, take her arm, pulling her to the back.
"Amy, Skylar’ taking a break," I call over my shoulder.
Amy giggles and Skylar huffs. I tug her into the back room and close the door. I allow her to release from my grip and she crosses her arms over her chest.
"What the fuck, Grayson?" She grits her teeth and she looks so damn cute when she is pissed.
