Vince's Place

by Sandra R Neeley

  She’d married her high-school sweetheart, believing that everything would be perfect. But it wasn’t. His parents ran every aspect of his life, and they’d tried to run hers, too. He quit his job and went back to working for his parents. He pressed her to quit her job and stay home with the kids once they were born, but she’d stood up to him. She loved her job and she loved her independence. Instead she put the kids into daycare, but all too often when she arrived after work to pick up her kids, they were gone, and the daycare staff advised her that her mother-in-law came to get them shortly after she dropped them off. It didn’t matter how many times she instructed them that no one but herself was to pick up her kids, her in-laws owned most of the town, and no one told them no. Except her.

  She and her husband argued so much that he began to drink regularly. It didn’t take long for things to fall apart after that. Just a couple of months later, she came home to find a moving truck, all their things boxed up, and her mother-in-law supervising moving them all into their family home. They had a compound, with several smaller bungalows near the large main house, but they didn’t even move into a bungalow — they moved into the main house with her husband’s parents.

  Her husband was not the man she’d thought he was. He’d very easily slipped back into allowing his mother to manage him and everything he was involved in. She lost all respect for him and pulled back. Secretly her hope was that he’d see it, recognize it, and become the rebellious teen she’d fallen in love with again, so they could make a go of it together.

  It was apparent to him that his wife didn’t respect him, didn’t need him. He’d been coddled his entire life and according to him, always planned for his wife and kids to move in with his parents. It was only a matter of time after that before the affairs started. He had affairs with women that had no problem screwing around with a married man as long as they thought there was a chance they could be his new missus one day. Brandi was furious. Her mother-in-law had taken over her life, her kids, and in her opinion contributed to the ruination of her marriage. But she was fighting for the promises she’d made. Her vows meant something to her, and she couldn’t just walk away. So she stayed, and she did her best to turn things around, to make things work.

  Then one morning her husband had come home stinking of another woman’s perfume after being out all night. He was still drunk and had passion marks all over his neck. He didn’t even make an effort to hide them. Brandi confronted him, and he lost his temper. He shouted at her, she shouted back, and eventually he hit her — several times — before he left in a rage and sped off to return to his mistress. Later that day when she finally made her way downstairs, her face battered and bruised, her in-laws barely looked at her. And other than her mother-in-law’s snide remarks about learning her place sooner rather than later, neither said a word about their precious son beating her.

  That day marked a change in Brandi. She worked every moment that she could, squirreling away money, planning to take her kids and leave as soon as she had enough to feed and provide for them for a while until she found work. Then finally the day came. Her kids had cried, refused to leave with her, and her mother-in-law refused to allow her to take them. Her own children had opted to stay with their grandparents, rather than leave with her. She truly had no reason to linger there. So she’d gotten in her car and started driving. She’d found Vince's Place, and Vince.

  She looked around the room again. It was clear Vince wanted more than just a fleeting thing with her. She just wasn’t sure she could give him what he wanted. And she didn’t want to hurt him. He was a good man. And she was so broken, so lost. She just couldn’t see beyond her past, and she didn’t know how to make him understand that.

  She dropped her purse and her keys in the chair closest to the door and shuffled to the couch where she collapsed and let go of the control she’d kept a strangle hold on throughout the day. The tears fell, she punched the cushions she laid upon, and eventually, once she cried herself out, she slept.

  <<<<<<<>>>>>>>

  Loud country music poured from inside and beckoned to Vince long before he completed the walk around the building to the front door. He could have gone into the bar from the back door, but decided the front door and all the greetings it would bring him were necessary to distract himself tonight. His eyes wandered over the faded Christmas lights strung across the front of his building, and he pulled the door opened and stepped inside. The smokiness floating on the air, highlighted by the holly decorated hanging lamps placed strategically around his place, made the room appear hazy. All the pool tables had silver, gold and green garland draped from corner to corner and small velveteen bows in the middle of each swoosh of garland. Each table was in play with patrons watching the action and making bets over who would win. The small dance floor was busy, the juke box next to the old plastic Christmas tree, flashing its neon lights as people pumped quarter after quarter into it to choose their favorite songs, and every seat at the bar was taken. A Merry Christmas banner was taped to the mirrored wall behind the bar between the shelves of liquor. There was a good crowd tonight, and his girls — his bartender and the waitresses that worked for him — had it well in hand.

  He started making his way through the crowd, shaking hands and patting people’s backs as he passed, and they realized it was him trying to nudge them aside. These were good people. Simple people, who worked hard and liked a good, stress free night of partying after working their asses off all week long. Vince gave them that with his bar. They all knew, if they caused no trouble, he’d draw very few limits for them. If they did cause trouble, they were out, and he may not allow them back. Some were human, some were shifters, some were friends and some were not, but when they were here, they were all respectful, or they got the hell out. None of them challenged Vince. The shifters knew what he was, and the humans, from some sense of uncanny unrecognized ability, knew better than to challenge him though they weren’t quite sure why.

  He finally made it to the bar, having turned down at least three different offers of female companionship, and smiled at Maria.

  “Hey, boss-man! Thought you were on a date tonight!” Maria called over the heads of the customers in front of him as she slid beer mugs to a couple of guys a few people down, while slapping napkins in front of the two she was planning to wait on next.

  “Was!” he answered. “I think.”

  “You think?” she asked.

  “Story for another day,” he answered. “See ya’ll dragged out the Christmas decorations,” he commented.

  “Had to. It’s that time.”

  Vince nodded, looking around at the old faded decorations again. “They’re kind of old. May be time to get some new ones.”

  “Bring ‘em in and I’ll stick ‘em to the walls,” Maria answered.

  Vince smiled suddenly. “Hey, Kaid and Delilah had their baby tonight!”

  “Woohoo!” Maria shouted. “Boy or girl?” she asked, excitedly.

  “Boy, they named him Barron,” Vince said, grinning.

  “Is he…” Maria stopped short of actually asking what his beast was since there were humans within earshot.

  “Don’t know yet,” Vince answered, knowing what she was trying to ask.

  “Either way, that’s going to be one very strong-willed little boy,” Maria chuckled.

  “Yes, indeed.”

  “Big crowd tonight.”

  “Yeah, when we got here after the wedding, there was a whole group of people waiting for us to open up.”

  “You’re kidding? I thought the sign on the door saying we’d be opening late tonight would be enough to run them to somewhere else for the night,” Vince said.

  “Not at all, they waited. Now, some of them came in just a little while ago, complaining about the fact that they just wasted half their night at that fancy place in Covington. But I figure that’s a good thing. They’ve seen the option to our place, been there, hated it and now they’re back,” Maria said, grinning.

&nbs
p; “Maybe so,” Vince answered, looking out over the crowd behind him.

  Maria watched him, her own beast picking up on the unease she felt from him. “You sure you good?” she asked.

  Vince turned to her and offered her a half-hearted smile. He took a deep breath before reaching out and squeezing her hand where it rested on the bar. “Will be. One way or another. Gotta keep moving forward, ya know?”

  “I do. Another day, another step,” Maria answered. “Hey,” she said, looking around, “where’s Brandi?”

  “She wasn’t feeling herself. She’s upstairs, taking some alone time.”

  “Ahhh. I see.”

  Vince didn’t feel like explaining that it was much, much more than Brandi just taking some alone time, so he just let Maria think that was all there was to it.

  A very drunk man a few people down raised his voice. “Oh, come on! First ya’ll are late opening, and now you can’t make me a hamburger?! Why? The kitchen’s right there! I can see it!” he slurred.

  “I’m sorry, sir. We are just so pressed from our late opening that we didn’t have time to prep for food service tonight,” Callie answered.

  “I got it, Callie!” Vince called to her. He started moving toward the opening at the end of the bar. “I’ll man the kitchen.”

  “Yes! Thank ya, Vince. You make the best burgers, anyway!” the drunk complimented.

  “Why, thank you, Jerry. I aim to please,” Vince responded, winking at Callie as he went by to fire up the grill and get the kitchen started. It was going to be a long, busy night from the sounds of the others realizing he was firing up the grill and shouting out their orders, too. But that was good. He needed that, not just for business, but for his peace of mind as well.

  “I got ‘em all, Callie, just write them down and start sending ‘em my way. I’ll cook in the order I get them,” Vince shouted from the kitchen.

  <<<<<<<>>>>>>>

  There was a soft humming surrounding her. It was soothing. Her right side was warm, and her lower belly was sore. She inhaled a deep breath and winced at the stinging it caused just between her hipbones. Then she smiled when her Mate’s scent hit her.

  Delilah turned her head and pressed her nose to the outside of his bicep where it was pushed up against her. “Morning,” she mumbled.

  “Morning, Monster. How do you feel?” Kaid asked.

  “Tired. And sore. Why am I sore? Did you bite me again?” she asked, her eyes still closed.

  Kaid chuckled. “Nope, not yet, though, it is always a possibility. This time, I’m pretty sure it has something to do with this little monster.”

  Delilah’s Dragon started sending her pictures of last night, the labor, the rush to get her to the hospital, the baby, her son, as he was born right before they added something to her I.V. to put her to sleep so they could finish stitching her up.

  Her eyes opened lazily and she struggled to focus. She realized that Kaid was lying beside her with Barron resting on his bare chest. The humming was Kaid speaking softly to their son as he rested his head on his father’s chest and stared fascinatedly at him as Kaid spoke to him.

  Delilah smiled. “He is beautiful.”

  “He is. He’s perfect,” Kaid answered.

  “I’ll call the nurses to let them know you’re awake. They were here a little earlier, but I made them let you sleep,” Kaid said.

  “I want to hold him. Why did they make me sleep when I wanted to hold him?” she asked, trying to raise herself with the one hand that did not have an I.V. attached to it.

  “Because you went through surgery to have him because he was coming out backwards. Your body was stressed, so they sedated you to allow you to rest.”

  “Hmpf. I was fine,” Delilah answered.

  Kaid swung his feet to the floor. “Let me put him in his bassinet, and I’ll help you get situated.”

  “Thank you, my Mate.”

  Kaid laid Barron down carefully in his bassinet and turned back to Delilah. He fluffed her pillows, then pulled her covers back, lifting her in his arms. He moved her higher on the bed and made sure she was comfortable before again covering her. “Better?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she answered simply, her eyes pinned to the baby boy in the bassinet beside her bed.

  Kaid moved back to the bassinet and lifted Barron into his arms. He turned back to Delilah and gently placed him into the cradle of her arms. Right away Delilah’s eyes filled with tears, and she began to unwrap Barron’s swaddling.

  “What are you doing?” Kaid asked, knowing full well what she was doing.

  “Making sure he has all his parts. Fingers, toes, hands, feet. All of it,” she answered, her voice a little shaky.

  “He does. I already checked,” he laughed softly, “but go ahead. I had to look for myself, too.”

  Delilah ran her long, elegant fingers down Barron’s arms and up his legs. She smiled when she counted his little toes, and he curled them away from her touch. “He is ticklish,” she said, still smiling.

  “He is. And he’s so observant. If I speak, he follows the sound of my voice until his eyes meet mine,” Kaid told her.

  “Hello, Barron,” Delilah said softly. “I am your Mother. I will kill all who do not welcome you with warmth!” she said lovingly.

  Kaid laughed, he couldn’t help it.

  “What?” she asked, looking up at Kaid.

  “I have never heard a death threat delivered in such a nurturing, loving tone.”

  Delilah grinned, then she looked back down at their son. Her tears were flowing freely now.

  Kaid understood, and hurried around the bed, retaking his place beside her, and sliding his arm beneath her shoulders so that he could hold her, while she held their son.

  “Thank you,” she finally managed after a few minutes of quietly touching and kissing Barron.

  “No, thank you,” Kaid said, kissing her temple.

  “If you had not believed in me, fought for me, I wouldn’t be here. We wouldn’t be here,” Delilah said. Then she looked into Kaid’s eyes. “You taught me how to love. You taught me family. You’ve given me everything,” she said, leaning her head against his shoulder while pulling Barron in closer.

  “You’ve given me everything,” Kaid countered.

  Delilah didn’t look up at Kaid, she was smoothing her hands over her son, still amazed that he existed. “I did, didn’t I?” she teased.

  Kaid kissed her, knowing that too much emotion made her feel uncomfortable, and this was her way of lightening the mood. He chuckled at her tease. “You’re my world, Delilah. You and Barron.”

  Delilah looked up at Kaid again. “And you are ours.”

  There was a knock at the door.

  Delilah snuggled Barron closer. “Who is that?” she asked Kaid, clearly not wanting to be interrupted.

  “Nurses, probably. They have to check on you, make sure you’re healing properly and you don’t need anything.”

  “Tell them to go away,” Delilah whispered.

  “They need to check on you, Monster. They might even take that I.V. out of your hand.”

  “Really?” she asked, looking down at the offending needle sticking out of her hand and taped into place. “Come in!” she called.

  Chapter 4

  The door opened and the same dark-haired nurse from the delivery room walked in. “Good Morning, Mrs. Sanders, Mr. Sanders.”

  “Mornin’” Kaid answered. Delilah was still leaning her head against his chest and his hand played with her hair.

  “I liked this one last night,” Delilah told Kaid, as though only she and Kaid could hear. “She was very kind to me and made me laugh.”

  “Of course I did. I liked you, too, and I knew you were scared. I wouldn’t have been so nice if I didn’t like you,” Natalie said teasingly.

  “Yes, you would. You are nice to everyone,” Delilah said.

  “I am. But still, I was a little nicer to you.” The nurse smiled and started checking the readouts on the machinery that De
lilah was hooked up to. “How do you feel this morning?” she asked Delilah.

  “Will you take this needle from my hand?” Delilah asked, not answering the nurse’s question.

  “I think I can do that. How about your bladder, do you feel any uncomfortable pressures? Do you feel like you need to use the bathroom?” the nurse asked.

  “Yes, I do, but my Kaid can help me to the restroom.”

  “Good. But first, I’ll have to remove the catheter. Then we will see if you can go by yourself, or if you’ll need the catheter again for a while.”

  Delilah looked questioningly at Kaid.

  “There’s a tube leading from your bladder to a bag beside the bed. It’s there because when they gave you your spinal for the surgery, you lost feeling, so you didn’t know when you needed to relieve yourself. Pretty much everyone who has surgery where your bladder ends up being numbed has to get one,” Kaid explained.

  Delilah looked horrified. “Well, get it out!” she insisted firmly.

  The nurse chuckled. “I’m working on it.” She reached for Barron to hand him to Kaid, and Delilah snarled softly, pulling Barron in closer to her chest, while pinning the nurse with a threatening glare.

  The nurse didn’t panic. She was slightly familiar with shifters. She’d suspected these two were shifters; their beauty was far too intense for them to be human. But she’d not been sure until the woman had just snarled at her. “It’s okay. I was just going to hand him to his Daddy so that I can take care of your catheter and get that needle out of your hand.”

  The nurse continued to hold her hands out, inferring that Delilah should hand her the baby.

  Delilah looked at the nurse standing before her, her hands still out for Barron. “You are very brave,” Delilah said, deciding whether to hand this woman her son or not.