by Falon Gold
“I’m sure you had your reasons, brother,” she says sympathetically. Told you she’s special. “Right now, you have a son that needs you and us, so go be the good man that I know you are and bring Astrid and him back… but there’s going to be hell to pay when you do.” Now, she’s threatening me. That’s Malisa for you.
“I have a son with Astrid, Malisa,” I murmur, terrified, shocked and thrilled. I have the family I always wanted, a lot sooner than I expected. Life is always doing its own thing.
“I know that!” Malisa snaps. “Now go get them!”
I will, when I find out where they are. The hair on my arms and neck stand on end. I fight not to panic while frozen stiff. I can’t decide what to do next or which direction to follow Astrid in. “Fuck! Shit!” I start to turn in circles.
“Stop cussing at me and move toward your truck in the garden’s parking lot, Blake! She’s in a blue—”
“I know what she drives, Malisa.” At least I know that much.
“Then why the hell are you still turning in circles?”
Because shit just got more real than I ever thought possible. Now take your own advice and calm the hell down, Blake, so you can think.
I stand still, take another deep breath, and channel Sheriff Powers again. My heightened emotions say fuck that and jump in intensity instead. I’m going to have to find Astrid while I’m a basket case.
“I can see you from the kitchen window, Blake! You’re still here!”
I shouldn’t be. “Which way did she go after you talked to her, Malisa?”
“She went back towards town.”
“Okay, that’s east, so she’s probably heading back to Utah. How long has she been gone?”
“Maybe four minutes. It took me that long to get the phone off the floor.” Enough time to cover four miles at sixty miles an hour. I have ten more miles left to catch Astrid before she reaches the highway.
“Malisa, I’ll call you back.”
“You better, big brother from another mother.”
I let her do the hanging up, while I cross the three acres between me and my truck. Except, my feet are moving on their own because my head is spinning. I can’t make sense of why life just had to intervene in my decision to keep sections of my world separated until I could lay to rest one thing and prepare Astrid for the other. I dare anyone to hurt her because of any of it though. It’ll be the last thing they do.
Chapter Three
Blake
The best thing about being a sheriff is the sirens mounted on the dashboard of my personal vehicle. When they’re on, even old people get out of the way quickly. Usually, there’s no one to give a mini-heart attack to on the roads into town at this time of year, when Arrow is slow and quiet. The only vehicle I’ll see will probably be the exact one I’m looking for.
When my speedometer clocks five miles in a minute, I start to worry if I’ll ever find her. Nothing but asphalt stretches before me, until I crest a hill that drops like a rollercoaster. At the bottom of it is a blue truck that’s going twenty miles over the speed limit. Now that I know why Astrid’s been calling all week, I’m sure she’s been phoning me from Harrison. Tracking me down in Arrow must have been her last resort.
She should’ve made plans to attend a wedding and meet both sets of my parents instead. They’re going to be grandparents and have a right to know who the mother of their grandchild is. That’s the only ‘right’ the Powers have, and they’ll lose it if they start to pressure Astrid about anything. But, I have to catch her first before I can introduce anyone to her.
I mash the accelerator to the floorboard. The suburban shoots forward then chews up the half mile between me and Astrid in seconds. Her older model automobile can outrun most vehicles. I make sure of that with monthly maintenance that I do myself, well, I used to do it. It’s good my truck comes customized with a hemi engine courtesy of the county, or she’d get away like she’s trying to.
When her brake lights activate, I ease off the gas. She pulls over. I follow her over the white line to the soft shoulder. I’m barely in park when I open my door and jump out. In her rearview mirror, I see the uneasiness sitting plainly in her face as I walk toward her quickly. Her expression deepens a little more as I get closer to her door. I snatch it open. She leans back to look up at me. Her button nose scrunches up. Glossy lips tighten into a thin line above red-rimmed eyes. All signs that she’s mad and possibly been crying. She’s never looked more beautiful to me, and I need to see all of her.
She glares up at me through narrowed slits of her eyes. “What are you doing? This isn’t how you perform a traffic stop.”
I reach inside the vehicle, undo her seatbelt, and extend my hand to her. Her scent surrounds me and fogs up my head, as usual.
“This is not a stop, Astrid. Now get out.” I can’t get anywhere near her as much as I’d like to be if she’s sitting down.
“What? No, Blake! If you’re not pulling me over for speeding, I’m not getting out.”
“Astrid, I don’t want to hurt the baby, so I’d rather you step out on your own, but I’ll get you both out safely if I have to.”
She looks out of her windshield and rubs her hands down her bare knees. There isn’t much of her lap left thanks to me. A mix of dread and excitement intermingle inside me. I’m responsible for another human being now. That number will rise to two if I get my way.
“Blake, don’t do this,” she pleads softly.
“Oh, I’m doing it, love, and I’m willing to use my authority to get it done, so out.”
“I thought you said this wasn’t a stop,” she stalls.
“It isn’t. You have to do this because I need you to as a man.” I probably should’ve said as her man, but I don’t know if she wants to hear that when she’s obviously trying to keep her distance.
Her mouth snaps shut. She exhales heavily then places her palm against mine. As soon as she’s upright, with one hand resting on the door through the opened window, I let my eyes roam down her front. The curvature of her face is slightly thicker, her advanced pregnancy crystal clear, and feet dressed in flip flops with a tiny bow. It’s a miracle she has on shoes, because she doesn’t wear them unless she has to.
Everything else about her seems to be exactly as it was the last time I saw her, except for the extra glint to her skin and her tummy that’s almost swallowing up her slender frame.
My son is doing that to her body.
And baby Blake is already a big boy. She’s taking care of him well without me, which makes me proud of her and unsettles me. I want her to be self-supporting. No storm will blow her over when it comes, but I want her to need me too. I’ll shelter her from everything when I can. Obviously, that’s not necessary. Thick emotions begin to clog my throat.
Astrid looks away. “I’ve said all I needed to say, so say what you need to quickly.”
I find it troubling that she’s avoiding my gaze. She doesn’t do that either.
“Fine,” I say hoarsely then take her chin in my fingers and turn it to me before tilting it up, just so my mouth can drop down on hers.
The distance between us is begging to be occupied, but I’ll probably crush my child if I get next to her like I want to, like I used to. I settle for placing one hand in the small of her back. Her lips sit stiffly beneath mine. Just as I wonder if I’ve waited too late to give her everything that is me, she groans, and then opens her mouth to let me in. Relief swamps me. A heat wave ripples through my chest, overruling the uneasiness sitting there like a brick house. My stomach clenches beneath my T-shirt, pushing all the breath out of my lungs. This woman will probably always have this effect on me.
I open my mouth wide over hers, to drink in air. Her tongue slips between my lips and begins a war with mine. I never meant for the kiss to become aggressive, but it does, and Astrid is the aggressor. More sensations than I can stand bombard my center. All my blood whooshes south, until my jeans are being pressed outward by an erection that wants its freedom bad
ly.
Her fingers tighten around mine, while her other hand glides across the nape of my neck, pushing through the closely-shaved ends of my haircut. A car honks its horn while riding by. The wind slaps at my shirt, reminding me of where we’re at. I take one last swipe across her tongue coated with water and sweetness, and then step back.
Astrid drops her forehead in my chest, panting softly. “We can’t do that again.”
“Why?” I ask. Something tells me that I don’t want to know the answer.
“Because we’re not going back to your idea of a relationship.”
“No, we’re not, Astrid.” Certainly not if I can damn help it, but I know what she meant; we aren’t going any further than baby mama and baby daddy status.
I need to get her out of that headspace and in my territory to change her mind. To do that, she has to come home with me. “We need to talk about our future and the baby’s before it’s born. I know I have some explaining to do, but so do you. It’s not safe to talk on the side of the road though. Get back in your truck and come back with me to the house. We’ll talk there after my sister gets married, if my family doesn’t kill me first.”
She lifts her eyes to mine. Hers are filled with apprehension again. She’s never been this anxious around me, and I don’t like it. I prefer the brown-eyed, sultry look she gets right before we make love more.
“Blake, I wasn’t invited to—”
“I’m inviting you to my sister’s wedding. Malisa has already demanded that I bring you and the baby back, or there’ll be hell to pay. Well, there’s going to be hell to pay anyway for not telling them about you, but save me from the extra shit I’ll be put through if you don’t come back to meet everyone.”
“You’re not mad with me about… well, everything?”
I would be, but it’s my fault that she thought she needed to leave in the first place and hide the pregnancy from me.
“No, love. I’ve never been more glad to see you.”
“I didn’t think you would be after I up and left then showed up here like this.” Then she inhales deeply and squares her shoulders.
What is she bracing herself for? Maybe, she’s not as sure about what will and won’t happen next with us as she portrays. I hope not.
“You thought wrong, sweetheart. Now let’s go before someone else comes along, like my family. They’re nosy as hell and will come looking for us if we don’t come back soon.”
She arches one eyebrow. “Are you sure? I probably ruined your sister’s day. Meagan told me where to find you, and she doesn’t mind if I wait for you at the station with her.”
“No.” She’s waited for me long enough. “I’m positive you haven’t ruined anything. Malisa’s more ticked off that she’s been pregnant by herself. And, I’ll be damn if I let you get out of my eyesight before I’ve told you how I feel about you.”
Astrid curses under her breath then steps back. “Okay, I can do this,” she whispers to herself. “I’ll go with you.”
She turns sideways, to get back in the truck, with me gripping her hand tightly. I don’t want to let go. The rest of my fingers are spread wide behind her back. When she settles in her seat, I grab the doorframe and release her fingers unwillingly, to bend over, redoing her seatbelt.
She arches the other eyebrow, which is only inches from mine. “I could’ve done that, you know?”
“I unfastened it and I should fasten it back, don’t you think?” Any excuse to be near her and my son will do.
I step back reluctantly. She closes her eyes, shakes her head, and grabs the steering wheel with both hands. Her grip is white-knuckled. She should get use to me making sure she’s has what she needs, again. Yes, she could live without it, but I have six months of not doing it to make up for. I backpedal to shut the door. She starts the engine. I find it impossible to walk away.
Her head tilts to the side. “I’m not going to drive off in the other direction if that’s what you’re thinking.” It isn’t.
Astrid’s word is her guarantee. I just don’t want to take my eyes off her. Who knew that eyes could starve? Mine are gluttons for the sight of her.
“Even if you did, baby, I’ll follow wherever you go.”
She smiles for me, making it feel like old times and even tougher to move away, but I do. After swinging up into the suburban, I flip the sirens off, swerve around in the road then glance in my rearview. When I’m sure that Astrid’s not having any kind of problems, I start back toward Uncle Luke’s. Then I consider driving in the other direction myself, rather face a firing squad than go back to my family and their heartbreak that I’ll cause when they learn I’ve excluded them from a significant portion of my life. Fleeing will hurt them even more.
I’m damned if I do, damned if I don’t, always risking disappointing someone. My absentee parents. The Owens. Now Astrid. This has been my living conditions in Arrow for as long as I can remember. It’s always something that I need to keep hidden or hope it goes away to minimize the collateral damage. Completely fucking nerve wrecking. Keeping the peace in Japan, where the martial artists are more lethal than a AK-47 during civil unrest, doesn’t even compare.
Keeping pieces of my life divided and locked away isn’t working anymore. They’re spilling out into the light one by one, leaving me no choice but to be transparent with the everyone. That might kill my biological father. He’ll never earn the daddy of the year award, but I’d rather not be the reason he’s fitted for a toe tag. I can’t be sure how my truth is going to affect Astrid though, and she’s the one I’m worried about the most.
She may not want anything to do with me anymore after all the shit hits the fan. The blowback will be worse than a tsunami if some of the Owens decide to feel the same way. Well, Malisa is just going to kick my ass, but I could still lose everyone else that stood between me and the world when doing right by me was the last thing on the Powers’ minds. Everything I am I owe to the Owens.
Hopefully, they’ll just go up one side of me and down the other for keeping them in the dark about Astrid, and now baby Blake. If I’m lucky, Mama O will just bean me in the back of the head with the palm of her hand a few hundred times, then welcome Astrid and the baby into the fold. I have no doubts that she’ll do the latter. It’s the former I’ll need to survive.
My truck conquers the miles to Uncle Luke’s too damn fast for my liking, even while riding at the speed limit. The bottom of my stomach drops. I past the circular driveway in front of the house to turn onto the paved straightaway that leads to the parking lot for the gardens. Before I park between Aunt Chrys’ red Avalanche with a gold grill and rims and Aunt Barbie’s pink Impala trimmed in chrome, I strip my jeans of my phone to call Astrid.
She picks up on the second ring. “So, you do still have my number, huh?”
Her husky tone invokes memories that I also still have of me pushing into her too damn warm and moist body. As if I wasn’t having enough troubles with the extra hard part of me already.
Standing on my head beside my truck becomes a possibility, but there’s no time for that.
“Yes, I do, Astrid, and I’ll tell you why soon. Right now, I need you to not park and give me a ride to the house, so Malisa can get another good look at you while I finish setting up the chairs for her wedding.”
Astrid stops sideways behind my truck, with the windows rolled up, confining the can-cooled blast of her air conditioner. The atmosphere shifts around me as the line gets as quiet as the dead. Immediately, I know which gate to hell that I’ve opened unintentionally.
“You told me that your sister and I only favored, Blake, when I asked you about her, but it was like looking at myself actually.” The one time she asked about my family, little snippets to describe everyone is all she got out of me.
“Yeah, she thinks you look familiar too, and I was vague about a lot of things I told you. It’ll take the rest of the month to get through the details. I need your promise that you’ll stay here with me until I’ve told you ever
ything.” I take the keys out of the ignition and turn the alarm on.
“Blake, I… I can’t stay here for the rest of the month with you.”
“Why not?” If she refuses to stay three weeks, I have no hope for getting forever with her, not in Arrow anyway.
“Because my life is back in Harrison now.” So is the help with the baby that she thinks she can only depend on.
“You moved here once before by yourself, Astrid.” Another thing she has in common with Malisa, who’s come back home to stay after living in Utah for years. Hopefully, Astrid doesn’t follow down that path too. If she does, I’m going right behind her.
“But you won’t be by yourself this time,” I promise quickly as I stroll between the cars.
“You work sixteen hours a day, Blake.”
“Not anymore as long as you’re here, and you know I have a whole group of people who are willing to hire more deputies if I want them. What’s the next thing that’s stopping you from giving me another chance to prove that I can make better decisions than I did two years ago?” Convincing her to stick around adds to the other insurmountable hills I must climb, but it’s the only one I’m going to concern myself with right now.
I open the passenger door of her vehicle and get inside. She takes the phone from her ear, deposits it in the cup holder that she always leaves it in while driving. I stuff mine in my pocket. When she drives out of the lot without answering me, I don’t press her to, for fear of running her off faster than she’s already planning to go.
The silence thickens around us as she avoids my gaze that’s pinned on her face. She finds the front of the house on her own, stopping on the far end of the driveway, but we’re in bird’s eye view of the front door. It opens. Malisa and half of the Owens spill out of it, onto the porch. I curse quietly, thinking about telling Astrid to keep going.
She giggles and shuts down the truck. “Even I saw that coming, Blake, and I don’t know your family. It’s okay if they want to meet me.”
