by JL Long
They all know.
I do my best to push their looks out of my headspace. Biting my lip as hard as I can, I use the pain to dull the urge to run back to the truck.
Lawson sidesteps and comes to my other side. Grabbing ahold of my hand, he squeezes it. "You're doing great, baby."
I give him a small smile.
We reach the back of the store where the pet supplies are, and London takes off for the toy she already had picked out from when her nana brought her here. “It’s right over here,” she tells us.
Law wraps his arm around the back of my neck and bends his head down to my ear. “How many little kids get excited about a dog toy?”
I look up to him, and say, “I don’t know, but I think we’re the lucky ones.”
His smiling eyes meet mine. “I think so too.”
I turn back to where Lonnie is, and the spot is empty. My eyes move down the rest of the aisle. Empty. The thumping from earlier returns, but for a whole new reason. “Where is she?” I say, panicked.
“She’s…” He looks down the aisle. “Shit!”
Law’s arm drops, and he bolts down the aisle, yelling her name. I round the corner and stop dead in my tracks when I see her talking to a woman. As soon as the woman hears me shout for London, she turns and walks the other way. Heat rises to my face as anger and vengeance course through my veins. “Mommy, that nice woman told me to give this to you.”
“London, get over here now!” I scream out. Lonnie’s face falls, but I don’t let that sink in as I take off after the woman. Aria’s once red hair is now blonde to match mine, and it’s been months since I’ve seen her, but there’s no mistaking who she was.
“Hey!” I yell at her back. She doesn’t stop. She moves faster toward the door. Just as I’m about to catch up with her, another woman rounds the corner and runs right into me. I falter on my feet and fall back into a hard body. I look up to see Lawson holding me. Pushing up, I try to move from his hands, but he doesn’t let me.
“It was her!” I shout. “We have to go after her.”
“Baby, that woman looked nothing like Aria.”
I narrow my eyes. “It was her.”
“Look, Mommy! She gave you a pretty flower!” London says, completely oblivious to what’s going on around her.
Lawson takes the card from London, scans it over, then flips it around for me to see. I admit, it doesn’t look like all the other notes Aria has given us. This one is different. It’s a flower cut out of paper. Not a rose. A tulip this time.
“It was her,” I whisper, on the verge of tears.
He moves closer, until we are only inches apart. “We are going to pay for this toy, and then we are going to get in the truck and go home. Once we get there, we will talk about this.”
He doesn’t believe me.
He thinks I’m seeing things.
I didn’t imagine this.
It was her.
The ride home is silent. My eyes are trained on the landscape speeding by, but my thoughts are nowhere near us.
Maybe I didn’t see her.
Maybe my mind is playing tricks on me.
No.
That can’t be.
The look on that woman’s face…it was merciless, hideous with evil.
It was her.
I know it.
Clicking the power off, I toss the remote to the side on the couch and work up the courage to do what I’ve put off since we got home.
Lena’s first time out in public, and she’s mistaking people as Aria.
Fuck.
Her head is not where I thought it was.
I thought she was working through this shit. How the fuck do I even go about dealing with this? She thinks I think she’s crazy. If I let this situation slip under the rug, what happens next time we go out?
Will Selena physically attack the woman she thinks is Aria?
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
I clear my thoughts with a shake of my head, rub my hands down my pants, and get up from the couch. As soon as we got home, Selena put that shield over her again, but we have to talk about this.
Walking into our bedroom, my eyes focus in on Lena sitting in the bed with a blanket around her shoulders, knees bent, and a book on her thighs. After Lonnie went to sleep, Lena told me she was going to lay down, which is unusual for her. Typically, she lays on the couch with her Kindle while I watch whatever’s on TV. For her to hole up in our room solidifies that she’s pissed at me.
Goddamn it.
Coming to my side of the bed, I sit on the edge with my back to her and run my hands through my hair.
“Baby,” I begin, my voice low, the pain inching its way through. “I love you so much, it scares me most days that I could love you and Lonnie as much as I do. But this isn’t healthy.” I turn to look at her over my shoulder, then continue even though she hasn’t taken her eyes off her book. “What you put yourself through, how you are coping with all this…it’s just not healthy. I think it would be a good idea if you talked to someone. Someone professional, someone you don’t know, that way you won't feel the judgment," I finish. Her eyes close for a moment, then open again. I wait for her to say something.
Anything.
She doesn’t.
“Lena, you hearing me?” I ask, angling toward her.
“I don’t want to talk about this.”
“We have to, baby. We have to talk about it, or it won't get any better. What happened today—”
“No!” she yells, slamming the book closed and leaning up in the bed. “What happened today happened. You can try to tell yourself it wasn’t her. You can try to make me believe that, but the fact of the matter is it was her. Just think about it. Why would a woman give a child a flower and tell her to give it to her mother? That’s random and odd. Especially when that child is alone. Why wouldn’t the woman help the child find her parents? Why would the woman then fucking run from us?” She swings her legs over the bed and stands up. “Please, Lawson, explain that to me. Make me believe a sane person would do something like that.”
I shake my head, and she throws her hands up in frustration. “This is a small town. There aren’t many people I don’t know, and I didn’t know that woman.”
“Maybe—”
“Maybe fucking nothing. I’m not crazy. I’m not on the edge of a goddamn mental breakdown. I’m angry. I’m scared out of my mind. I was attacked in my own home. I was this,” she holds her pointer finger and thumb up, “close to being taken from this house.” Lena takes a breath. “She touched my daughter, Lawson.” Her voice begins to break. “She touched our daughter.”
My brows pull together, and I blink fast, wondering if I’m the one who’s goddamn crazy. The way Lena is unfaltering in her belief has me second guessing myself. Shit, maybe my mind is telling me it wasn’t her so I don’t have to sit here and calm my wife down about yet another thing that fucking woman has done to us. How could she be so brazen to approach our daughter?
“What do we do now?” I ask.
She shrugs her shoulders. “I don’t know. But one thing is for sure, we don’t let London out of our sight, not here, and not when we’re out.”
I agree with her.
I thought today could be good for us, we could get Lena out of the house, do something as a family, and then it blows up in my face, but with that, I am glad Lena isn’t threatening to stay locked up inside. She’s saying she’ll still do it, just being more careful when we do.
“You’re right. We should be more mindful of our surroundings.”
“Today should have never happened.”
I shake my head. “We couldn’t have known, Lena.”
“We could have if you wouldn’t have distracted me. London would have never left my sight.”
I decide not to let her comment irritate the fuck out of me. “It still could have happened.”
She lets out a deep breath. “Do you believe me, or are you just going along with this t
o make me happy?” Her words hit me like a knife in the chest.
I don’t hesitate. “I believe you, Selena.”
When what I said registers, her eyes close momentarily and her body sags as she unclenches her hands at her sides.
Fuck.
This is exactly what that fucking bitch wants. She wants me to doubt Selena so my guard will be down. I can’t let that happen. I won’t.
I move off the bed and go straight for my wife. “Lena, baby, I need your arms around me. I need to feel you against me.” When I reach her, she falls into me. Her arms go around my waist and her head plants into my chest as my fingers move to her hair. “God, baby, I’m sorry.”
“She touched London. She got to her,” she whispers again.
“It won’t ever happen again. I’ll never doubt you again. I promise you that.”
“I’m not crazy,” she declares.
“I know you aren’t. I didn’t want to face the fact that she was so easily able to get to London and I blamed you. It was the dumbest thing I could have ever done, especially knowing she wants that rift between us.”
“We can’t let that happen.”
“We won’t let that happen.”
She nods against my chest.
“Now, baby, you promised me something earlier. You gonna see to that promise?”
“Maybe,” she teases.
I pull back from her. “Strip bare and get on the bed, gorgeous.”
She complies, making quick work of the few clothes she’s wearing.
I growl when she spins around and begins climbing on the bed. The wounds on her back are almost healed, but are still visible. My mood instantly darkens upon seeing them, but I push it away. I won’t let this bitch keep coming between my wife and me.
Once Lena is situated on the bed, I reach behind my head to pull my shirt off, then tug my jeans down my legs, all while Lena watches, her eyes hooded. I crawl up the bed to her bent legs, push them open wider, and move between them. I give no warning as I begin ravishing my wife with my mouth.
Fuck.
I’m like a man eating his first meal after being left in the desert for weeks.
Hungry.
So goddamn hungry.
I lap at her pussy with intense desire, nipping her clit.
Her body bows off the bed and her hands claw at my head, gripping, pulling the hair. This only makes me go harder.
As soon as she’s on the brink of orgasm, I stop, and a frustrated groan escapes her mouth. I kiss up one side of her thigh, then back down to her core.
“Law, baby, please,” she whines, breathless.
“Uh-uh.”
She tries to angle her body up to get the friction back, and I smile against her, letting her have a moment of power. Pulling my head back, I sit on my heels as my hands travel the length of her legs.
This woman is so goddamn beautiful, and she doesn’t even know it. Her sexy as fuck body squirming, her blonde hair strewn over the pillow and hands raised above her, holding onto the headboard…it’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever watched. Pure fucking beauty.
“Please, Lawson, I need you,” she moans.
I give in and move over her. My dick slides through her wetness, over and over, rubbing her clit, teasing her, drawing out the moment. When I finally enter her, she lets out a deep, throaty moan.
My thrusts are languid, and I take my time pleasuring my wife. We haven’t had a moment like this in far too long.
Even though Selena’s wounds are almost healed, I’m careful not to hurt her. Her hands slide into my hair, and she rubs back and forth in gentle strokes, as if consoling me.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers, her voice weighted with our intimacy, the emotion dripping into her words.
I slide in, then back out, staring into her eyes. Tears pool at the corners.
“I’m sorry I doubted you all those months ago. I’m sorry I said things I shouldn’t have—then and now.” Her breath hitches as I keep my pace, but she continues. “I’m sorry this is happening to us.”
Her nails dig into my scalp as she gets closer and closer. “Don’t live in the past, Lena. I’m here.” I slide in deep, punctuating my point. Her body arches into mine. “You’re here. Just live in the now. Live, baby, because that’s all we have.”
Her hands move to my neck, and her hips lift off the bed, meeting mine. My pace quickens.
“Yes,” she moans.
“Fuck, get there, Lena.”
“Oh, God, yes.” Her head tips back asher orgasm unleashes through her. Three seconds later, mine does the same.
Selena’s body hits the bed, and mine lands on hers, my head going to the crook of her neck. “Love you, baby,” I whisper.
She doesn’t return the words. “I meant what I said, Lawson. I’m sorry for everything.”
"Don't, baby, don't apologize for shit you were reacting to. It might not have been the right thing, but it’s you. Like I said, we are here now, we are working through this shit. Little by little, we will get back to the bliss we know.”
“Momma!” London screams from the entryway of my room. My body jerks at the suddenness of her shout, and then I swipe the fallen hair on the bathroom counter into the sink. I roll my eyes at my behavior, like London won’t notice immediately that I just cut and dyed my hair.
Three days ago, I took one hell of a stance to get my life back on track. Then Aria, like she knew exactly where we would be at, ruined that once again.
However, I woke up this morning with that same fire burning in my stomach telling me I need to take control of my life. She cannot have this kind of power over me. It’s not the type of person I am.
As petty as it may seem, that same thought told me I needed to make a change. My hair is the first step. I keep telling myself I didn't do this because of Aria having the same cut and color, but deep down, I know I did. I can’t fathom being compared to her in any way, or to know she wants what I have so badly, she’ll try to become me. It makes me sick to my stomach.
I stare at my reflection, knowing the minute London walks in, my secret will be out.
I was supposed to be taking a bath. I lied.
I move to the dock and turn the music down just as London barges in.
“Momm—”
I turn around and put a smile on my face. “What do you think?” I flip my hair out with my hand.
Her shocked face turns into a beaming one. “I love it!” she shouts. “Can I do my hair like that?”
“I think Daddy would have a conniption if we colored your hair.”
She frowns, but recovers. "If we do it and then tell Daddy, he can't tell us no, right?"
My girl.
Always thinking outside the box.
Before I can answer, we both hear his voice. “What can’t he tell you no about?”
Lonnie jerks around. “Nothing, Daddy. Look at Momma! Isn’t she pretty.”
Law walks into the bathroom, and his eyes widen as he takes in my new look.
He loved my hair long, so I’m not sure how he will react to the sudden change.
“This is what we do when we say we are taking a bath?”
I dip my head down. “I just wanted something different.”
He laughs. “Len, baby, your hair isn’t what I love about you. Do whatever the hell you want to it.”
“But do you like it?”
“Babe, you’d be gorgeous however you decide to do it. But to answer your question, yes, I like it.”
I lift my gaze to his and smile, then glance to Lonnie. “I also want to take self-defense classes,” I whisper.
Lawson’s brows pull together. “Self-defense classes?”
“Yeah,” I scrunch my forehead, “I don’t think it would be a bad thing.”
He moves to me. “Don’t think that’s necessary.”
“I do. I think it is very necessary.”
He rubs the back of his neck. “Babe.”
“Don’t. Please. I told you, I’m taking my cont
rol back—of my life…my mind. I need that peace of mind. I won’t be defenseless again.”
“If that’s what you want, then go for it.”
“It’s what I want.”
“We’ll talk more about this later, but get all the information on the classes.”
I nod. “Already did.”
“Of course you did.” He smirks, tugging on a loose strand of hair hanging in front of my face. “I do love your new hair.”
I let out a breath of relief. He's letting me have this. He knows the reason behind it, and he's giving this to me.
“So, tell me more about these classes,” Lawson says as he walks into the bathroom. I am lying on our bed, preparing to go to sleep. In all honesty, I didn’t think he would bring them up again. I figured he thought it was just a wild idea I wouldn’t follow through with.
“Well, you know Todd’s gym here in town?”
I watch his eyes find mine in the bathroom mirror as he raises his hands to lather on shaving cream. “Yeah,” he answers, but it's a moment before I proceed with what I need to say. I love watching Lawson shave. While most women like a little bit of scruff or the full beard, I like my man clean shaven. My hand running over the smooth skin soothes me. The way I can smell his aftershave when he’s close to me, the way it lingers on his pillow…these small things give me the strength to keep fighting for my marriage. I haven’t turned to ice yet. I haven’t shut all my feelings off. And with these small but huge acts, I don’t think I ever will. I hope like hell I never do.
“He does self-defense classes on Saturdays. It’s a three-week program from ten to one in the afternoon.”
He turns the faucet on and places the razor under the water, wetting the blades. He takes two swipes down his cheek before he answers. "This is what you want to do?" he asks--a simple question.
“Yes.”
“Right. Then go for it.”
“Really?”
He stops mid-stroke up his neck, and his eyes find mine once more. “Yeah. Did you think I would tell you no?”
I shake my head. “Not exactly.”
“Not exactly what?” His eyes move back to focus on the path of his razor.
“Well, to be honest, I thought you might give me a little more grief about it.”
