Never Can Tell

by C. M. Stunich

Inside, the house is chaos. There are Regali women everywhere, cooing over babies, picking at the holes in Ty's pants, screaming. It is absolutely insane.

  Noah and I weave our way into the mess and wade through copper haired hugs and hazel eyed gazes, cheek kisses and teary blubbering. Ty is waiting for us, leaning up against the door frame in the kitchen, watching India cradle his baby and smiling about it. When he sees me, he scoops me up under the ass and Frenches the ever living shit out of me. I feel his erection through his pants when he presses me close, but it's hardly the time to enjoy it. I'm forced to pretend it's not there when what I really want to do is grab that strawberry lube and suck his fucking cock. My eyelashes flutter a bit as he sits me down, and I feel a wave of dizziness sweep over me. So he is jealous of Noah Scott, I think as Ty looks down at me with a smoldering gaze, cutting straight through to my core, burning me alive in the best sense possible. I look up into his face and smirk. A jealous Ty is a sexy fucking Ty. I might have to egg him on a bit.

  I turn back to the kitchen mob and realize that I've forgotten about Noah. He's already managed to find his way over to the baby and has him in his arms. Behind me, Ty crosses his arms over his chest and bristles a bit, but he says nothing.

  “Having man instinct problems?” I whisper to him as the chaos swirls around us.

  “Just a little,” he says, and I can hear the hint of a laugh in his voice. “The rival male is holding my cub, you know, so I gotta be a little pissed. Anything else would just be unnatural, right?” He drapes his arms around my neck and soaks me with his heat, his smell, drenches me with that dark edge that cuts just right. I shiver.

  “I'm making mutton for dinner tonight,” Beth says, and there's a very audible groan that sounds from the room.

  “Mutton?” Jade asks from her position near the back door. She's regarding Mini McCabe like he's the strangest creature she's ever seen while simultaneously scowling. Her copper hair is pulled back into a high ponytail and her cheeks are painted an obnoxious red, making her look like she's fucking around for Halloween instead of doing her best to accent her cheeks. I don't much like the snakeskin mini she's wearing either, but I guess I have no room to talk: the T-shirt I'm wearing under my sweater has a zombie baby on it. To each her own though I kind of think my sister looks like a whore. Maybe it's a good thing you're here. I think she needs you. “What the fuck is that?”

  “Baa,” Lorri imitates before Beth tosses her a look. She shuts up.

  “You don't like your nephew?” I ask when Jade continues to stare, arms crossed tight over her chest, lips pursed. She shrugs.

  “I just can't believe that you of all people gave birth to a child. It seems … unnatural.” She shrugs again. I pull a magnet off the fridge and throw it at her. She steps out of the way and then gives me the finger. “I'm going to go downtown for a little while,” she tells Beth. Immediately, my oldest sister goes from nurturing and motherly to dragon-esque in her rage. I wonder if I'll ever be like that, if I'll ever throw Noah looks tough enough to kill. It's hard to imagine at this point.

  “No, you are not,” she says, as if Jade is sixteen, not twenty-one. “I told you, when you get a job you can – ”

  “I already have a fucking job,” she snarls back. Beth's face gets real nasty then, proving that she is a Regali sister at heart. We all have a little dark blood in us. Fortunately, it hasn't rotted our souls from the inside out like it's done to Angelica, but it's there, will always be there. We just have to learn to live with it.

  “Five hours a week at a coffee shop doesn't cut it. When you're earning enough to pay your portion of the bills, then you can go out and drink your ass off. I don't care. But until then, don't bring it up again. You're not blowing all your money on alcohol, so you can hang out with your deadbeat drunkard sperm donor!” Beth's voice rises with each word until she's practically screaming. She jerks the oven open and the smell wafts out, hitting me like a truck, making me double over with nausea. Ty grabs onto my arm and helps keep me on my feet. “And stop using the freaking F-bomb around the kids.”

  I glance up from under my dark hair and see Jade looking back at me, tears in her eyes, her lip quivering. Then she turns and runs out of the house. I don't hear her car start, so I have no idea where she goes, but at least it isn't into town.

  She's seeing him.

  The man that killed my father.

  That tried to rape her.

  How? Why?

  I'm having a really hard fucking time coming to terms with that.

  “I gotta use the toilet,” I cough out, stumbling into the bathroom and folding myself just in time for the puke. If anything, it seems like this pregnancy is going to be even worse than the last. If I carry it to term. If. If. If. Shit.

  Ty follows me in and I get this terrible sense of déjà vu, like we've been here, done this. But I have to remember that we're stronger now, better. I can deal with this. We will deal with this.

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “What is there to say?” I ask as I spit into the murky water and flush it down. I rise to my feet and turn on the faucet, scooping cool liquid into my mouth and gurgling gently. I spit again and wipe my sweatshirt sleeve across my lips. When I glance up into the mirror, I look young, too young to be a mother. My face is soft and my eyes are hard. I question my own strength and then glance away. “If Jade wants to see that piece of shit, what can I do to stop her? I might ask her why, but that's all I can do. I doubt she'll even answer me.”

  Ty doesn't say anything, but he reaches out and brushes my hair back with his rings, all twelve of them, glittering and sparkling like rubies. They match the piercings in his face. Gotta love a color coordinated badass.

  Neither of us misses how small and tight this bathroom is, how close we are, how hard he was in the kitchen.

  “Ty,”I warn as he comes up behind me and slides his fingers under my shirt, up my belly, cupping my tender breasts with strong hands. “So not fair,” I groan, reaching up and smacking the fan. It coughs to life and is loud as fuck, blocking any sounds from escaping this little room. “You can't touch those.” My cunt is pulsing and my heart is pounding in my skull. Down below, I know I'm soaking wet.

  “Why not?” he whispers against my ear. “It'll make you feel better.”

  “It'll make you feel better,” I tell him, but he's already unzipping his pants and pushing my sweats down. The fabric doesn't resist, just falls straight to the floor in a pool, leaving me bare and ready to get fucked by my baby's father. God, that turns me on. I feel so fucking stupid, but Jesus … no wonder I'm knocked up again.

  “It's not good for pregnant mommies to be stressed, Nev. You have to take good care of yourself and stay calm. If this is what I have to do, I'm prepared to make sacrifices, baby. And don't even fucking think of trying to thank me for it.” Ty dives into me with a grunt, pushing himself in as far as he can go, thrusting hard and fast. With my cheek pressed against the mirror and my hands splayed out on the tile countertop, I almost feel like I'm back in college with one of the naughty boys from the parties, one of the ones who wear black and smoke like chimneys. One of the ones like Ty McCabe.

  This reminds me of my dirty past, but it isn't my dirty past, this is my new future and the man behind me is a fucking god, and I'm his goddamn goddess, so it doesn't matter if we're rutting like alley cats in a half bath. It's perfect. It's absolutely fucking perfect.

  I groan low and loud, and only Ty's ringed hand clamping over my mouth stops me from screaming as he pounds my ass with his hips and spills himself inside of me. About a second later, my orgasm hits and I collapse into his arms with his breath against my neck and his warm body against my back. All around us, the darkness settles and bursts into vibrant, brilliant light.

  14

  Angelica Regali comes home later that evening and pauses in the doorway to the living room.

  “Where's the baby?” she asks me, purse hanging from one hand, menthol cigarette clutched in the other. Darla
gets up from the couch, wiggling out from beneath my arm and runs over to her, throwing her arms around my mother's bare legs, clinging to the willowy skirt she's got on. Angelica sets her purse down and runs her fingers through her youngest daughter's hair.

  “He's sleeping up in Beth's room until the crib gets here,” I tell her, honestly baffled that she even gives a shit. “Did you … did you want to see him?” Ty's hand squeezes my waist hard. I think he can tell I need the support right now. You're cutting her off, remember? What she says, what she does, they have no bearing on you and your soul. Still, I don't think anybody misses how needy my voice sounds when I ask that question.

  “Don't wake him up now or he'll get to screaming,” Angelica says, which is much more in character for her. Darla is talking to her now, telling her all sorts of useless things about the day, useless things that my mother should be clinging onto with her every breath, listening intently to, caring about with every bit of her soul. Because that's what mothers are supposed to do. I think. See, Never, it isn't so hard. You can do this. You know you can. “But in the morning,” she continues, bending down and giving my little sister a very, very rare hug. “I'd like to.” And then she's sticking her cig in her mouth and disappearing up the stairs.

  Darla watches her go and waves bye, retreating back into the living room and the empty couch cushion on my right. India exchanges a glance with me from across the room. She's sitting on the other sofa with Noah Scott on her right and Lettie on her left. Everybody else is either in bed or MIA. Jade hasn't come home since the kitchen incident, the one that very nearly turned into a walk of shame. If Beth hadn't caught the oven on fire at the exact moment Ty and I were fucking, somebody would've known. In this house, somebody always knows.

  “Is Lorri upset about having to share a room again?” I ask. Must suck to move into your own room and then get kicked right back out. I feel like such a failure. My heart starts to flutter, and I begin to worry if leaving New York really was the right idea or not.

  “She's okay,” India says with a shrug. But then she smiles at me. “I think she's just glad that you're back, permanently. We all are.”

  “Why does everybody keep saying that,” I groan, letting my head fall back onto the couch cushion. It feels so damn good … I start to drift off immediately. “This is only temporary until we decide what our next step is.”

  “Doesn't matter. We're just happy you're here,” India says, and I hear the couch creaking. I open my eyes and lift my head up.

  “I should probably get going,” Noah says, rubbing his palms together. “I've got class pretty early in the morning.” He smiles. “Finals are coming up next week, so I can't miss a thing.” I look at him with a bit of nostalgia. School sounds fucking great right now. I just want to learn shit. I don't even care what it is that I'm learning. My mind wants to grow so big that I just fucking explodes with all the knowledge I'm cramming into it. “Maybe we could make Christmas plans or something?” he says. “I know Zella wanted to do something big this year. I told her you're all welcome to use the cabin at the lake.” I watch his face for signs. When he says my sister's name, it flows off his lips like a promise. Zel-la. I wonder if he realizes that. I return his smile with a smirk.

  He doesn't get it. Poor, innocent, little Noah, the antonym of Tyson Monroe.

  “Cabin, huh?” Ty asks, rubbing at the piercing in his eyebrow. “Is this one of those rich people cabins with a hundred rooms or some shit?” Noah flushes a light pink color. It looks good on him.

  “Well, a dozen rooms,” he says which sounds so ridiculous that even I laugh. “And an anatomically correct deer statue in the front entryway. It's little vulgar.” Ty chuckles and stands up in a clattering of bracelets. He stretches his arms over his head and holds out his hand for Noah to shake, pulling him into one of those man hug things where they punch each other on the back. Seeing them together makes me feel good inside, whole, like I'm come full circle and completed my journey. It's not true, of course. Our journeys never end, and there is no such thing as happily ever after. It's happily for now or happily ever sometimes because there are always rough patches. The best thing we can do is ride them out and take one on the chin. For now though, the boy I loved and the man I love are hugging and calling each other dude, so I'm happy. In this exact moment in time, I am fucking ecstatic.

  “Thanks for loaning us your name, man,” Ty says as he and Noah separate. They smile at one another just as I'm blindsided by a big double dose of baby revenge: nausea and extreme horniness. At the same time. Great.

  Noah moves over to say goodbye to me, but I bolt right past him and into the downstairs bathroom. India follows this time, not Ty and stands in the doorway with a quizzical look. She doesn't know that I'm pregnant again, nobody does but Beth. Just Beth, the mom I always wanted and never knew I had.

  “Are you okay?” she asks, reaching out a hand and then dropping it back by her side. “Should I get you some Pepto or something?” I shake my head and try to keep the next wave down. I ate Beth's mutton. That was a big fucking mistake. “Are you sure?” Another head shake. India doesn't know that these Mini McCabe babies are badass. They don't want pink goopy medicine; they want to announce their presence to the world and stomp all over it.

  “No, I'm good,” I tell her, holding back another gag. She looks down at me with her gorgeous face, a face that's free of pain and strife. It's good to see that, to know that not everybody in this godforsaken world is totally fucked. My little sister has a chance to be happy, to really truly find that fucking nugget of good in the world and consume it whole, without taking a dose of anguish to wash it down with. I pray to whatever deities will listen to someone as fucked up as me that she finds what Ty and I have, gets it without paying her dues first. “Will you get Ty for me?”

  She steps backwards into the hall and cranes her neck up the stairs.

  “He's putting Darla to bed,” she tells me which makes me smile, just a little. For doing his best to integrate into my screwed up mess of a family, Ty deserves a Purple Heart or some shit.

  I groan as I force myself to my feet and slump against the counter. I am exhausted. Last night, I got absolutely zero sleep, and it wasn't Noah's fault. It was Hannah's. Ty tossed and turned and groaned in his sleep, face twisted with pain and guilt. Why did she have to seek him out and tell him that. Marin's family has gotten desperate. After all these years, they've finally scraped together a reward worthy of conning even the filthiest souls in the city. They know he saw her. They know he saw who she was with. They know; they know; they know. And they're coming.

  I snap to with India's hands grabbing me under the arms as I slump to the floor.

  “Never!” she screams which is a little overdramatic but understandable. I don't know what happened, but I was blacking out I suppose. Stress. Fatigue. Flying. Dark souled babies. It could happen to anyone.

  “I'm okay,” I tell her as heavy footsteps slam down the stairs and Tyson fucking McCabe comes leaping over the banister like a superhero. Or a villain. Either or. He stumbles into the bathroom, nearly tripping over the laces he never ties. His shaking hands grab my face on either side as he unintentionally crowding my sister out in his worry.

  “What happened?” he asks me, completely and utterly serious, terrified even. I look into his eyes and I can see how much I mean to him. It brings tears to my own and sends India scurrying away without another word.

  “Stop looking at me like that,” I tell him, trying to push him away. Ty refuses to let go.

  “Never, I heard India scream bloody murder. Something happened. I'm not letting go until you tell me what.” I grab onto his wrists and look up, down, around, anywhere but as his face. I'm not going to cry again. I am sick and fucking tired of sobbing like a whiny baby. Almost a year to the day we stood in this same house with this same problem. I survived it then, and I'm in a better place now. Why is this still so hard? Why am I still making stupid decisions and thinking stupid thoughts and acting like a goddam
n bitch? Oh, that's right. Because I'm an ex sex addict with mommy issues and a daddy that's six feet under. I have issues. Fine. We all get that. But can we move on? Can I move on for Christ's sake?

  “You're an asshole,” I tell him firmly. There's no brooking argument with this voice. Ty doesn't even try.

  “No, I'm a man that hearts the fuck out of his wife, who worries about her day in and day out, who thinks about her every waking moment every sleeping one, too. I'm a dad that loves his kid and wants to make sure he sees what a freaking awesome person his mother is. I'm a guy that's never loved anything or anyone half as much as I love you.”

  “Ty.” That one word, a whisper, a promise. My arms go around his neck, his lips find my throat, and then he's pressing me up against the wall and my body is screaming for it. Lacey would love to hear about this shit. “Fuck me,” I beg him.

  “No.” I give him a look that's akin to sheer horror.

  “What?”

  “Not until you tell me what happened.” I roll my eyes and push him away. He lets me go this time and scoots back, so I can step out of the bathroom, putting my hands on my hips and taking long, deep breaths. I don't want Ty to think I'm giving in for sex. If he doesn't want to sleep with me, he can watch while I masturbate on the floor of our bedroom, dressed only in one of his T-shirts. Let's see how long he can resist that for.

  But I did promise to be honest with him, so I'm going to, no matter what.

  “I blacked out. Sort of. Just for a second. India caught me as I was falling.” I shrug. Ty narrows his eyes on me.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I'm pregnant.”

  “Never … ” I take that cigarette out of my pocket and run it under my nose.

  “I'll keep you posted,” I tell him, putting it between my lips and moving out the front door to stand on the porch. Ty follows and promptly plucks it from my mouth, putting it up to his and lighting the end.

  “No direct smoking. You can live vicariously through me.”