Steady Rain

by Tymber Dalton

  “You let me worry about that. I’m more worried about you. We’ll be there by five. Okay?”

  She took a deep, hitching breath. “Yes, Sir.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Between classes, Tristan stepped into the teachers’ lounge in their wing to listen to Kyle’s voice mail. Kyle had also sent a text to call him as soon as possible after hearing the message.

  “We need to go to Jess’ place tonight. Bad call with her mom. I told her we’d be there by five. Love you.”

  He immediately dialed Kyle’s number, relieved when he answered. “What happened? I don’t have much time.”

  “Her mom called, got into it with her, and it sounds bad. I don’t know all the details. I told her we’d come over there tonight. I’ll hit the store on the way home and get groceries and we can meet there. I’m going to spend the night with her if she’ll let me.”

  “Okay. As soon as I’m done here, I’ll call you to see where you’re at. I have to run home to get clothes, too.” He glanced at the clock. “I have to get back to class. Love you.”

  “Love you, too.”

  Goddammit. He slipped his phone back into his pocket and jogged down the hall, making it before the bell rang.

  Fucking families.

  In his experience, blood didn’t make people a “family.” Love did. And Tristan really wanted to meet her mother and slap her upside the head, even though that was wrong.

  Well, it was illegal to nonconsensually hit someone other than in self-defense.

  Didn’t make it “wrong.”

  The day seemed to drag, and it was nearly four by the time he escaped the building. Once he was in his car and heading home, he called Kyle.

  “I’m still at the house. I’m almost ready to leave.”

  “I’m on my way. Hold off, and I can follow you. You’ll need my help getting up the stairs if you don’t want to fuck up your knee again. I just need to grab stuff for tomorrow and my shower stuff. Five minutes, in and out.”

  “Okay, fine. See you soon.”

  Tris was tempted to call Jess but didn’t want her getting upset on the phone and them not there to console her. It could wait a few more minutes.

  He wanted their girl in his arms so they could hold her.

  Love her.

  They were parking in front of Jess’ apartment at five ’til five. She looked like shit when she walked down to let them in.

  Tristan pulled her in for a kiss. “Love you, sweetheart.”

  She nodded, but she didn’t answer.

  This was bad. Really bad. Every instinct in him told him this wasn’t just a conversation gone bitey. She also didn’t answer Kyle after he hugged her and told her he loved her, too.

  “You take the food up for us, huh?” Tristan said. “I’ll get the big guy upstairs.”

  She nodded again and started gathering the bags, the men watching her disappear inside.

  Kyle had leaned against the side of his truck to brace himself. “This is fucking bad,” he whispered.

  “No shit, Sherlock. Shitty parents suck all the ‘fun’ out of dysfunction.”

  * * * *

  It took Tristan a couple of minutes to get Kyle upstairs. Using the crutches would have been dicey, so it was easier for Kyle to lean on Tristan. He helped Kyle over to the couch and then went to help Jess put the groceries away. Instead of letting her delay and deflect by starting dinner, he caught her hands and gently led her over to the couch, snuggled between them.

  That’s when she started crying.

  “Tell us, baby. That’s what we’re here for.”

  It took her ten minutes to get the whole gut-wrenching story out.

  At least I now have someone I hate more than Marilyn.

  He hoped he one day had a chance to meet the bitch and…well, chew her out. Punching her for being a cunt would be illegal, no matter how satisfying it’d feel.

  The way she softly sobbed threatened to rip Tristan’s heart out of his chest. He didn’t want to ever let her go, wished he could remove the pain from her soul.

  “We’re not going anywhere, sweetheart. I know what it’s like having shitty parents, and you’re not overreacting.”

  “I don’t ever want kids,” she moaned against him. “Never. I never want to risk becoming shitty like that to another human being, much less a child. I used to think I wanted kids, but no. Never.”

  He kissed the top of her head. “You say the word, and we’ll get vasectomies. We’re serious—we’re here for life. For you.”

  “Yeah,” Kyle said. But his voice didn’t sound…normal.

  Tristan couldn’t help but glance over at him. Kyle now stared down at the floor, his face carefully schooled into a mask.

  Shit.

  Right now, Tristan couldn’t comfort the man. That Tris agreed with Jess because of his own parentally challenged genetic donors put him squarely in her court. He was fine never having kids. If someone wanted to label him selfish because he knew his limits and owned them, so be it. There was no requirement to reproduce. They didn’t have a thousand-acre farm to run and need free child labor to keep food on their table, for fuck’s sake. Just because he was a teacher and worked with kids didn’t mean he wanted any of his own.

  In fact, working with high-schoolers kind of more securely wedged him in the “no kids” camp.

  Kyle had been blessed with decent parents. If someone had never been through the crucible of dysfunction and growing up to be made to think there was something wrong with them by those same parents, it was hard to explain it.

  A sucky club to be a member of.

  Tristan happened to be a card-carrying member.

  Kyle would have to settle for being a father figure to Dillon, or growing used to the fact that he’d only have four-footed furry children.

  Tristan wanted the three of them to be a family, healing and loving each other. They didn’t need kids to feel complete.

  “I won’t make this an order, baby,” Tris said, “but I want you to give serious thought to blocking her number.”

  She nodded but didn’t give him a verbal answer.

  “If you don’t block her number,” he continued, “then I am making it an order that you’re not allowed to talk to her unless one or both of us are present. Not even on the phone. Understand?”

  She nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

  So much for the romantic evening he’d hoped for, but this was just as important to the health of their triad. She needed to know she could count on them for the ugly moments of real life, not just the sexy-funtime stuff.

  That they were there, hard work and bitter emotional stuff, all of it. That they wanted her to lean on them.

  That they’d always be there to catch and comfort her.

  Tristan kissed her and gently shifted her into Kyle’s arms. “I’ll take care of dinner. You two stay right there.”

  “I’ll help,” she said.

  “No, baby. What’d I just say?”

  Finally, the hint of a smile. “Yes, Sir.”

  “That’s better. Be our good girl. Let us take care of you—that’s our job.”

  * * * *

  Kyle held her, his heart breaking for her, for all of them. While having kids wasn’t exactly a discussion they’d had…it hurt to know the door was forever closed on it.

  If given a choice between having kids or having Tris and Jess, it was a no-brainer. Of course he wanted them.

  Still…

  The ache would ease. And he’d quietly carry it without burdening either of them with it. It wasn’t a majority-rules issue, either. It was her body, ultimately her decision, and he couldn’t fault her for it after what he’d just heard.

  I hope I get to meet her mother and tell her what a fucking cunt she is.

  He had a feeling Tris felt the same way.

  Stanley jumped up onto the couch and snuggled close on Kyle’s other side, obviously concerned about his people acting so upset.

  “How many more times do I ne
ed to start over in my life before I feel like I’m not a failure as a human being?” she softly said.

  He held her more tightly. “You’re not a failure, sweetheart. You’re smart and funny and—”

  “A mistake.”

  Her bitter tone stabbed at his heart.

  He couldn’t “fix” this for her, and he knew it.

  “You’re many things, but a mistake isn’t one of them.”

  “I ruined my mom’s life.”

  “No, your mother made a choice to be miserable, made worse by shitty parents and a crappy husband. You had nothing to do with that.”

  “They’re both shitty, and the common denominator is me.”

  “Dillon’s father’s a shitty guy. Did Dillon cause it?”

  “No, of course not.”

  “Then why don’t you cut yourself that same slack?”

  She went quiet and he knew he’d at least given her something to chew on.

  He got it, she was understandably hurting and people in pain didn’t always think clearly. Especially when that pain was underlain by decades of dysfunction the way hers was.

  Jess had done amazing work on herself to make it as far as she had. No doubt Kel and his parents had played a role in that, but she’d been the one to make the choices she did.

  Only healing could help her eventually see herself the way he and Tris saw her, as a sweet, beautiful human being who they wanted to spend the rest of their lives with.

  And if that future meant giving up his dream to one day be a father, he’d have to do the work to make himself be okay with it.

  * * * *

  Long after dinner and the men taking her to bed and sweetly making love to her, Jess lay awake between them and stared into the darkness.

  The bitterness in her mother’s tone had dug in hard and deep. Didn’t matter what logic told her.

  The wounded girl who wondered why she was never good enough would always look back at her in the mirror, tears in her eyes and doubt forever embedded in her brain.

  It wasn’t worth the risk of her ever ruining another person’s life. She’d been stupid to ever want kids. Why the hell would she risk harming a child’s psyche the way hers had been harmed?

  She wouldn’t even know it if she did it. Her parents obviously thought they were fine and she was the problem.

  How would I even know?

  How do I know I’m not harming Dillon?

  That thought broke open a door she’d thought she’d locked upon making up with her men.

  She’d never make Kyle turn his back on Dillon, but maybe she’d been hasty to reconcile with them. Maybe their whole initial courtship had been too fast to start with.

  Maybe she needed to step things back a few paces and start over with them.

  Maybe…maybe…maybe.

  Maybe I’m a shitty person and they just don’t see it.

  Maybe it would have been better if I’d never been born.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Only three weeks after reconciling with her men, and Jess would be spending the next two weeks out of town at a job an hour north of Houston…which she wasn’t looking forward to.

  The location, not the fact that it was out of town.

  The good thing about it, though, besides a chance to see Brenda and Jim, was the fact that it’d be filmed and Purs and his crew would be there. She could sense he was someone who might become a good friend over time. He never failed to make her laugh, and she didn’t mind his teasing. She also noticed that he didn’t act nearly as familiar with most other people. As if he could sense who wouldn’t misinterpret his sense of humor.

  He’d also proven to be a good listener when, sitting alone with him at lunch two days earlier, she’d found herself spilling her story to him. The Collins brothers had already told her Purson was kink-friendly and discrete, but it relieved her, at the time, to have someone to tell her story to who she knew wouldn’t judge her or her men.

  A disinterested third-party who could likely give her some sound advice without any emotions or friendships getting in the way.

  “Sounds like it was sucky timing and poorly read cues on their part,” he said when she finished and asked his opinion. “Have they done anything to make you think they’re lying to you?” He reached up and fingered his bloodstone amulet.

  She noticed he did that sometimes, like it was a stress reliever or something. A worry stone. It seemed like any time a situation on a job site seemed to be sliding sideways over a cliff, he’d remain utterly chill and stand there, muttering to himself and rubbing the damn thing. It never failed that everything always worked out in the end, for both her crew as well as the film crew.

  “They offered to go no-contact with Dillon.” She scowled. “I don’t want them to do that.”

  “Why?”

  And another gush of soul-purging commenced, with her telling him her life story about her childhood…including the horrible things her mom had said to her over the phone.

  “Wow,” Purs said. “She sounds like a piece of work.”

  “I was Dillon,” she said. “Maybe his mom isn’t as bad as my parents were, but I don’t know that, what she might say or do without witnesses. Kyle and Tris are like Kel’s parents were for me. I don’t want to take that away from the kid. I cannot imagine the train wreck I’d be if it hadn’t been for Kel’s parents.”

  “You going to be okay leaving your men for two weeks right now?”

  “Yeah. This is my job. This is the best damn chance I have to keep my life going the way I want it to.” She didn’t miss the slight frown that flitted across his features. “What? You know something I don’t know?”

  “I know the Collins brothers think very highly of you already and would hate to lose you.”

  “Then what was that look?”

  This time he scowled, as if surprised she’d picked up on that. He leaned in and dropped his voice, even though no one was close enough to overhear them.

  “Life is complex and full of unexpected turns. You’ve already done a great job, it looks like, of making the most of unanticipated events that turn into positive opportunities.”

  He reached for his amulet with one hand, and with the other reached across the table and touched her hand. “Never lose sight of that in your life, the importance of staying flexible.”

  A strange feeling washed through her. “Why do I get the feeling you’re holding out on me? Do you know something I don’t?”

  “I know that you seem particularly driven. For good reason,” he quickly added. “Just don’t ever lose your flexibility. It’s a skill that’ll serve you well in life. And try to forget what your mother said. It’s her problem, not yours.”

  He squeezed her hand and let go, leaving her to shiver as a ripple of gooseflesh washed through her…

  And like that, the moment ended, as if they’d been talking about something else, something…lighter.

  She didn’t say anything to her men about it, either. It wasn’t like she wanted to hide it, she just…didn’t honestly know how to explain Purson to them as anything but a likable guy who’d literally never made a pass at her or done anything she’d consider “improper.”

  Ted and Mark would be on-site with her and the crew in Texas, while Josh was staying behind in Florida with Essie and to run the business here. Since Jess was more familiar with the area than any of them, they were letting her cut her teeth as lead project manager.

  There would also be a contractor on-site, because the house was suspected to have some structural issues caused by a long-term roof leak exacerbated by the same storm that had driven Jess from her previous home.

  At least she didn’t have to worry about Stanley. Tris and Kyle were taking care of him, dropping him off at Michelle’s every morning on their way to work and picking him up in the afternoon. Now, on the days she worked out of the office instead of at a job site, the Collins brothers had insisted she bring Stanley into the office. Sometimes, if Ted had a client, he even borrowed
Stanley to sit in, giving the client a focus and a stress relieving tool, almost like a therapy dog.

  The Collins brothers had even gone to the trouble of having small T-shirts made and customized to fit Stanley, and ordered several bandanas for him with their logo. Stanley had even made it into a few shots on the filmed jobs, when Purson’s crew came to the office to record Ted’s sessions with the clients there.

  Stanley had also picked up followers on the Instagram account Jess created for him. The Collins brothers had turned over control of their professional Instagram account to her, and tapped into her photography skills for not just that, but their Facebook page and Twitter accounts, which she also now ran. Not only for hoarding clean-out jobs, but also documenting some of their more mundane cleaning or disaster recovery projects.

  Jess was booked on the same flight to Texas as Mark and Ted, and her stomach was one big knot. She felt like she might throw up before the plane even taxied down the runway.

  Although this was just the accumulated stress doing a number on her. She’d been feeling it off and on for days. With the new job responsibilities on top of everything else, her body was trying to tell her to slow down.

  It was the same feeling she’d had when she’d discovered Brad’s cheating and had left him, the same she’d had after the storm. The same ongoing nausea and exhaustion.

  The same nausea that had plagued her as a kid when she had to go home every evening. Especially if she’d just spent hours in the haven of Kel’s home.

  The phone call with her mother had ratcheted her stress through the roof. Every time she thought about her biting words, it sent her running for the toilet to dry heave.

  She didn’t tell her men about her ongoing stress symptoms, either, not wanting them to worry. They’d want her to go to the doctor, and that just wasn’t in her budget. She didn’t have insurance yet, and wouldn’t for another few months.

  Besides, she’d lived through this. Several times. Soda crackers, bananas, ginger ale, and toast.

  Diet of champions.

  Once the Texas job was in the can, so to speak, she could come home, take four days off, and chill. Maybe treat herself to a spa day or…something.