by Chloe Walsh
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I demanded, pinching the bridge of my nose in frustration.
“Don’t act so stupid, Teagan,” my uncle snarled, finally losing his cool demeanor. “That thug was obsessed with you! Do you honestly believe he’s not going to come looking for you when he gets out?” he all but roared down the line. “Bringing with him all the danger and trouble that comes hand in hand with gang members.”
“George Dennis is dead,” I informed him angrily, reciting the words that had kept me sane since I found out all those years ago. “It’s over, Max. The Ring of Fire is gone, and when Noah is done serving his time he will be a free man. And besides, Noah and I have had no contact,” I choked out. “Not one phone call in all these years.” I blinked away the hot tears that were burning my eyes. “For all I know, he’s forgotten about me –”
“It will never be over and you know that,” Max interrupted, ignoring my protests. “There is always another low life waiting in the wings to swoop in and take the reins in a gang.”
“You’re wrong,” I countered shakily. “It’s over.”
“Look at what he dragged you into, Teagan,” Max snarled, clearly furious. “Illegal fighting rings. Drug lords. Car chases. Police stations. Brothels.” I could hear the outrage and disproval dripping from his voice. “You’ve taken beatings for him. You’ve been bullied because of him – he bullied you, Teagan. For Christ’s sake, that man took your innocence and he uploaded it to the Internet for the world and its mother to see.”
“He didn’t do that.”
“Keep defending him.”
“I’m not. I’m stating facts.”
“And you will go back to him,” Max added condescendingly. “Because that’s what women like you do.”
“Women like me?”
“Weak women,” Max informed me. “Dependent women. Women who bend their morals and go against everything they’ve ever believed in for a man. And just like your mother, you will end up getting killed because of that man,” Max added, sticking the knife in deeper.
“How dare you bring Mom into this?” I screamed, becoming hysterical. “I am not weak or dependent, and neither was she.” Bringing up my mother and father’s relationship was Max’s favorite party trick. He did it when he wanted to hurt me most.
Well, mission accomplished.
“She fell in love, Max. My mother followed her heart, which is something you will never understand because you don’t have one.” Squeezing my phone so tightly I was surprised it didn’t crack, I roared, “And I am not that kind of woman.”
“You were prepared to run away with a murderer,” Max protested smugly. “That makes you exactly that kind of a woman.”
“Noah is not a murderer!”
“Yet.”
“At all!” I screamed, reaching my boiling point. “Now stop this. I mean it. Stop it right now!”
“He is the worst kind of wrong for you,” my uncle bellowed. “The moment you decided you loved him, you were lost to me. You sold your soul to the devil himself.”
“Stop talking about him like that,” I sobbed, breaking down, as my emotions overwhelmed me, and my uncle’s hurtful words stabbed through my heart. “Noah has done nothing to you, Max. Nothing!” Pulling on my hair in frustration, I cried, “This is between you and me… so just leave him alone. Please! Just stop talking about him like that.”
“Why?” he demanded. “Why do you care what I say about that piece of scum? I mean, let’s be honest here, Teagan, at the end of the day that’s all Noah Messina amounts to; criminal scum –”
“Because I love him, that’s why!” I slapped my hand over my mouth the second the words fell out of my mouth.
“And there it is,” Max said sadly. “Your allegiance to that man after all he’s done to hurt you is as strong as ever.” Sighing heavily, he added, “I’m sorry, Teagan, but I would rather cut ties with you now than watch you go down in flames because of your infatuation with that man.”
I opened my mouth to respond, to retract my words, but it was too late. The sound of beeping in my ear told me that my uncle had hung up on me.
Rushing over to my bed, I sank down in a heap and cried.
I cried for my dead mother and for my unfixable relationship with my uncle.
But mostly I just cried for Noah.
THE MINUTE THE WARDEN, surrounded by three guards, approached me in the weight room I knew something was wrong. He didn’t come around often. The guy was like the grim reaper. He only brought bad news. Everyone in this place knew that you didn’t want to get a visit from the warden. I hoped whatever it was wouldn’t fuck with my release date. I only had one month left in this place.
Tense as hell, I continued lifting the dumbbells that were in my hands, ignoring the burning sensation in my muscles and the ache spreading in my chest, as I prepared myself for what I was about to hear. “Who is it?” I managed to grunt, continuing my set. Someone was dead. I could fucking smell it. There was only one name I was praying didn’t come out of the warden’s mouth; Teagan.
“Your mother,” he told me without an ounce of sympathy in his tone.
If he expected me to snivel and cry like a bitch then he was talking to the wrong fucking inmate. No matter how much pain I was feeling or how badly I was hurting, I sure as shit wasn’t going to show it.
“What happened?” I managed to grunt out even though my airways felt like they were closing in on me.
“Overdose.”
I took in the warden’s words and realized that I wasn’t surprised. Not in the least. This was the news I had spent my whole life preparing for. She had finally destroyed herself, like I always knew she would.
“You’ve been granted one day’s leave for the funeral,” he added cagily.
“And when’s that happening?”
“Tomorrow. You’ll be accompanied by officers Smith and Marshall.”
In the five years and four months I had been here, I learned Smith was a decent man. He didn’t take shit, but he didn’t give it out unnecessarily either. Marshall wasn’t horrible – a newbie on cell block C and younger than I was, but he wasn’t as bad as the other cowboys in this place.
“Fine,” I told the warden before he left the room.
I STOOD AT THE SIDE OF THE GRAVE, watching as they lowered my mother’s casket into the ground.
I felt nothing.
I should have felt something, anything, but I didn’t.
I was numb, cold to the bone, and emotionless.
Lee and Kyle were at the graveside, two small boys no older than four or five clung to their legs, offering me their unwanted support. Well, Lee was here to offer her condolences.
I knew why Kyle was really here and it wasn’t to sympathize.
My brother was here to make sure my mother was really dead.
Mom had messed so much up for the guy in the past that I figured this was closure for him.
Satisfaction.
Kyle had his arm wrapped around his wife’s shoulder proudly, guarding her like a soldier, like she was the only thing on this earth that mattered to him, as he stared at my mother’s casket lying in the dirt.
I heard the sound of heavy footsteps behind me moments before hand clamped down on my shoulder.
I didn’t turn to see who it was.
I already knew.
“This is not on you, Noah,” Logan Carter said in a low tone as he came to stand beside me. “So don’t you dare believe otherwise.”
“She was never cut out for this world, Low,” I heard myself say, eyes locked on my mother’s casket. “All that…suffering and pain.” I left out a heavy sigh. “Fuck, man, I hope she’s in a better place now.”
“I believe she is, Noah,” he replied. “Someplace good. Somewhere her demons can’t chase her.”
Nodding slowly, I took in his words. That was the best reply I could have heard in that moment. I didn’t need anyone pussyfooting around me or feeling sorry for me. I just needed those exa
ct words.
Somewhere her demons can’t chase her.
“I don’t know if I’m ever going to be ready for the whole family thing,” I told him, admitting for the first time the real reason why I was pushing Low and his family away.
I had always cared about the Carter’s, and knowing they were related to me by blood only deepened those feelings, which sent out huge red flags in my brain.
“I’m used to doing this whole life gig on my own,” I confessed. From my past experiences, caring about people only brought me pain and suffering. It gave my enemies a way in to hurt me. I had been dragged into the underground because of my duty to my mother. I was in this fucking mess because I had dared to let myself fall in love with Thorn and that love was used against me. “I don’t want a family right now,” I added gruffly. “I’m not…ready for that, man. I can do this on my own.”
“I know you’re not ready to play happy families, Noah, and that’s okay. But you need to know that you have one to fall back on,” he replied, squeezing my shoulder. “Always.”
I stood beside Logan, unmoving and emotionless for the rest of the service until it was over. Kyle and approached me in the parking lot just as I was climbing back into the cop car.
“Five minutes,” Smith who had accompanied me to the funeral said, nodding at me, giving me permission to go speak to him.
I waited for Smith and Marshall to move away before I turned to face my brother.
“Kyle.” I acknowledged, shaking my oldest brother’s hand. “It’s been a long time.”
“It’s been too long,” he told me in a passionate tone before pulling me into a hug.
“Extended the nest?” I asked dryly, nodding towards where Lee was crouched down and talking to the two little boys. “How many is that – a dozen?”
“Six.” Kyle chuckled. “And just you wait until you have a baby in your woman’s belly. It’s addictive.”
“I think I’ll pass,” I replied in a flat tone, forcing down the image of Teagan, swollen with my child inside of her. “I’m not really a family man.”
“Shit, that was insensitive,” Kyle muttered.
Lee poked her head around her husband’s shoulder then, breaking the awkwardness. When her eyes landed on me, her entire face lit up with happiness. “Look at you all grown up,” she drawled in that sweet southern voice of hers. “Cash, Casey, come say hi to your Uncle Noah.”
Within seconds two little monsters surrounded me, tugging at the legs of my pants.
“Hi, Uncle Noah,” the boys sang out in chorus.
“Uh…hi?” Looking to Lee for help, she smirked and shook her head before taking a few steps back.
“Jesus Christ,” I muttered, crouching down to get a better look at them. “Did you go into the cloning business while I’ve been away, Kyle?” I asked when I took in their identical faces.
One of the boys, and I wasn’t sure which one, stepped forward and pressed his small hand to my cheek. I almost jumped back from the touch. I wasn’t used to feeling anything gentle.
“What’s your name, kid?” I asked, not having a clue what else to say.
“Casey,” he told me, with blue eyes full of innocence and kindness. “I’m sorry your mommy went to heaven.”
“Thanks kid,” I croaked out. “Appreciate it.”
“My brother Cam said you’re the best fighter in the whole wide world,” the other boy, Cash, announced excitedly.
“He did?” I replied. “Well, he’s right about that.”
“Really?” His little face lit up. “Oh man, that’s so cool.
“Do you fight all the bad guys?” Casey, clearly the quieter twin, asked. “Are you a superhero?”
“Messina?” Smith called out from the squad car, breaking my train of thought. “Time to go.”
“Uh…” I scratched my head and had to dig really fucking deep to find an answer to that question that wouldn’t scar the boys for life. “Stay in school, boys,” was all I could come up with. I stood and made my way over to Smith and Marshall.
“We’ll see you soon, Noah,” Lee called out when I was sitting in the back of the car.
“Yeah,” I replied, knowing in my heart that it wasn’t true.
Uncle Noah.
I wasn’t cut out to be anyone’s uncle.
Are you a superhero?
Fuck. My. Life.
I PHONED THE PRISON AGAIN last night and left a message – my third one this week.
Of course I didn’t actually get through to anyone useful, but I had to try because ever since Hope told me about Noah’s mother dying last week, I couldn’t get him out of my head. All he had gone through with George Dennis and those criminals had been to keep his mother safe.
And now she was dead.
It made my heart hurt so badly. The unfairness of it all was crippling.
I didn’t use my own name when I called and spoke to his correctional officer. Instead, I swiped Hope’s phone and pretended to be her, calling to check in on my uncle.
I never expected him to return my call.
But as I sat here in the office of the gym Liam and I had taken over running from his uncle six months ago, with my phone vibrating in my hand, I felt a swell of emotions churning through me.
I didn’t want to talk to Noah.
I just needed to know he was okay.
At least I didn’t think I wanted to talk to him…
With shaky hands and a nervous disposition, I clicked receive and held my phone to my ear. “Hello?”
“You have a collect call from an inmate at the Colorado State Penitentiary, would you like to accept the charges?” a prerecorded voice asked me.
“Yes, I do,” I replied immediately. “I mean I will accept the charges.” The line went silent for a moment, and then there was a high-pitched buzzing sound.
“Hope,” a deep, gravelly, familiar voice said down the line. “I got your messages. What’s wrong?”
“It’s me,” I replied, hyperventilating at the sound of his voice.
Breathe, I told myself. Just breathe.
There was silence; a drawn-out pause before finally he spoke. “And who is me exactly?”
“Teagan.” I closed my eyes and tipped my head back, stifling a groan.
More silence followed, longer this time, until I couldn’t stomach it a second longer.
“Uh…Teagan Connolly,” I added, voice high and squeaky. “From Thirteenth Street–”
“I know who you are!” he responded with a bark. “What I want to know is why you’re calling me now?” The bitterness in his voice stunned me and I took a moment to steel myself.
“I’m so sorry about your mother, Noah,” I blurted out, biting the skin on my knuckles anxiously. “I wanted to call you and…well, I just wanted to tell you that.”
I heard his cruel, harsh laugh seconds before his voice was bellowing in my eardrum. “Let me get this straight,” Noah sneered. “You’re calling me, after five years of nothing, to offer your condolences?” He laughed again, crueler than before if that was even possible, before saying, “You’re some piece of work, Thorn – calling me now, with less than three weeks left to serve.”
“That is not why I called you and you know it,” I snapped, feeling flustered and hurt. “I was worried about you. God, Noah, I know how you felt about your mother.”
I opened my mouth to say something else, but he beat me to it, and with his words he buried any hope I ever had for us.
“Don’t worry about me,” he sneered. “In fact, don’t fucking think about me at all. Forget I even exist, Teagan, just like I forgot about you!”
The line went dead, and I sat, frozen to the bone, as his words of malice began to slowly sink in.
All the years I had held myself back from moving on had been pointless because Noah Messina hated me more than I hated him.
It was really over for us.
And my heart was breaking all over again.
“THAT IS NOT WHY I CALLED YOU and you know
it,” Teagan hissed. “I was worried about you. God, Noah, I know how you felt about your mother.”
“Don’t worry about me,” I interjected, feeling more furious than I had in years. She had some nerve, calling me up after all this time. “In fact, don’t fucking think about me at all. Forget I even exist, Teagan, just like I forgot about you!”
And then I hung up on her.
“Goddammit to hell!”
Slamming the receiver down over and over again, I tried to rein in the tsunami of emotions raging through me.
“That fucking woman!”
Anger, pain, and most predominately lust, hit me straight in the chest like a fucking wrecking ball. Followed swiftly by a huge churn of regret.
Why the fuck did I hang up on her?
Grabbing the receiver I held it to my ear. “Thorn, you still there, baby?”
Nothing.
Fuck.
Slamming the receiver back down, I stalked back to my cell.
That night, instead of having nightmares about my mother’s last moments on this earth, I dreamt of Thorn.
One phone call.
One fucking call after five years and I was a mess.
Christ, I felt like a dog that had been thrown a bone, a scrap of hope.
Somewhere, deep down inside, there was a part of Teagan that still cared about me and I held onto that thought like it was my last lifeline.
Thorn was still out there, thinking about me, worrying…waiting.
All of a sudden, the prospect of my impending freedom was more appealing than ever.
All of a sudden, I had a goal.
I was getting out of here next month, and when I did, I was going to sign any contract or deal the MFA threw in my direction – I knew they were still interested.
When I had all of that done, I would go and get my Thorn, because there was no way in hell I was turning up empty-handed and broke. No, I was going to make something of myself, something good.
And then I was going to make her regret walking away from me – regret leaving me high and dry when I needed her most.
Knowing I could never trust her again wasn’t enough to deter me – I was going to make her love me so hard she would never contemplate leaving me again.
