Jerk It

by Lani Lynn Vale

  I’d just checked on him about five minutes before she’d arrived home—worried that I hadn’t heard a peep out of him all night—but he’d been happily snoring away.

  When I arrived in her son’s room, she was staring into the crib with her hands on her cheeks, staring at the little boy as if he was her life.

  Which, I supposed, he was.

  I just wished I could be a part of her life, too.

  Sadly, that wasn’t meant to be.

  “I just don’t get it,” she whispered. “Why is he sleeping through the night for you, but for me he’s up every hour on the dot?”

  I didn’t have an answer for her.

  “What did you do differently?” she requested.

  I snorted. “I don’t know.”

  I explained to her the entire thing that I did from the moment I walked into her house yesterday, to the moment that she walked in that morning.

  She shook her head. “We do tummy time. Then we do our lavender bath to calm us. I rub lavender lotion on every single inch of available skin. I soothe him. Rock him. Feed him. Rock him some more. Then I have to go into ninja mode to get him out of my arms and in bed without waking him up. Then I have to army crawl out of the room, close the door, and make absolutely not a single sound the next two hours or he’s waking up. Two hours, Murphy. That’s all I get out of him.”

  My lips twitched hard and a sense of superiority shot through me. “Maybe he just likes me.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Well, that certainly makes one of us, I guess.”

  My amusement knew no bounds.

  “Done with school now?” I asked.

  That’s when the change happened.

  I didn’t know if it was because I’d shown her kindness and love. Whatever the reason, her eyes went misty as her lower lip practically quivered.

  “I have no one, Murphy,” she whispered. “No one. So you have no clue how much this day meant to me.”

  My lips turned up into a small smile.

  “I’m here anytime you need me,” I told her bluntly.

  That’s when it happened, my slow decline into madness.

  She kissed me, throwing her arms around my shoulders, and kissed the absolute hell out of me.

  I wasn’t prepared.

  I wasn’t ready.

  I hadn’t steeled myself to be that close to her, let alone have her press her mouth to mine.

  So at first, I responded.

  I did exactly what I’d wanted to do to her since I’d seen her last.

  But just as fast as it happened, she pulled away.

  “Thank you, Murphy.”

  I didn’t get my wits about me until I was at home and realized what I’d done.

  What was it that I’d done?

  I’d fucked up.

  CHAPTER 8

  Dear burpees, fuck you.

  -Sincerely, Mavis

  MAVIS

  2 months later

  “You want me to do what?”

  “I want you to go to CrossFit with me,” I repeated.

  Fran was already shaking her head.

  “I’m not ready to start exercising again,” she admitted.

  A while ago—hell, was it a year and a half? Two years? Whatever the exact date was, it felt like a lifetime.

  It felt like there was a whole, complete lifetime in between now and when I’d gotten the call about my sister.

  One day, around seven in the morning, I’d gotten the call no one wanted to hear—my sister was in the ER for attempted rape and assault. I had initially asked the police to check on her, but I never dreamed that the situation would have been that bad.

  When I’d gotten to her, she’d been a shell.

  A broken hard taco shell, in a million and one pieces, and there was no way she’d ever be fixed the same way again.

  Now, though she was still usable—still able to live her life—she wasn’t able to live it the same way she’d once done.

  That meant that we dealt with panic attacks.

  That meant that we dealt with her being scared of the dark.

  That meant that, when she quit work, I didn’t complain.

  That meant that, when she decided that she was going to hide and not live her life, I hid with her.

  But I didn’t want her to hide anymore.

  I wanted her to live.

  “I’ve already talked to someone up there. They’re going to hold it when you can go,” I promised.

  She shook her head. “Maybe next month.”

  I grumbled in frustration as I reached in my pocket for Vlad’s pacifier that was stashed there.

  “Here,” I snapped. “Take this, or he’ll scream the entire time I’m gone.”

  Fran took it with a roll of her eyes. “You know he only screams for you. He’s a beautiful baby for the rest of us.”

  That was too true.

  In the last two and a half months that Vlad had been alive, he’d proven that he liked everyone better than he liked me.

  Which fucking sucked.

  Shouldn’t your own kid like you?

  I mean, I didn’t even get the same kind of smiles out of him that Murphy did when we passed each other in the grocery store.

  Hell, then there’d been the time that my grandmother had seen him while we were at the doctor’s office. She’d been coming out of her own cardiologist appointment.

  Vlad had smiled at her like she wasn’t the wicked witch of the west.

  And when I’d taken off without saying a word to her, she’d called my name, and my kid had up and cried when I wouldn’t turn back.

  Then he’d cried all the way home.

  That, sadly, was only a handful of instances that had led me to the decision to start back at CrossFit.

  The problem? Now that I was working full-time as a nurse anesthetist, the only times I could go was when Murphy was working out, or late at night when I was tired.

  Which led me to now.

  I was going at the ass crack of dawn, and really not wanting to.

  Even worse, when I got there, I instantly got a scowl from Murphy as I walked in the gym door.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked.

  I rolled my eyes. “I’m here because I either work out right now, or I don’t work out at all. And I need to work out. Bad.”

  He looked at me like I was crazy. “You’re not fat.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I didn’t say that I was. I’m just…I’m stressed.”

  I didn’t want to go into detail.

  But when he crossed his arms and leaned against the rig at his back, expecting an explanation, I was unable to stop myself.

  I told him everything.

  I unloaded every single burden that I had onto him. Ending with the way he pissed me off.

  “So you think your kid doesn’t like you. Your grandmother won’t stop calling you. And you think I hate you,” he summarized.

  I blushed at that last part.

  “I think that you’re humoring me,” I admitted. “You talk to me because you feel sorry for me.”

  He shrugged. “Maybe I do.”

  • • •

  Three months later

  I hated him.

  I officially hated him.

  He’d said something mean to me last class, and I’d left in a really bad mood. I’d woken up in an even worse mood.

  And to make matters worse, I now had to see Madden and him working out side by side.

  They were eye candy in their purest forms.

  Though, concern started to enter my heart when I saw how bad he looked after the workout.

  I’d been so obsessed with him over the last month, so cued in to his every single move, that I’d noticed his decline.

  Something was wrong.

  He couldn’t even get through a workout anymore without having to stop for breaks. And not even for water. He literally had such a hard time catching his breath at times that I’d become concerned and stopped my workout just to make sure he wa
s all right.

  And that went over like a turd in a punch bowl.

  What made it even worse was to see Madden and him working out next to each other.

  I’d never been able to really compare him to other people because the men and women that went to the early class weren’t as physically fit than the other classes. That, or they were way older, so their movements appeared slower compared to the other classes anyway.

  But today, Madden had wanted to work out because he had a SWAT event later this morning, and he wouldn’t have time to do anything else.

  Which led us to now.

  I was done with my workout.

  I was still scaling everything down due to not being back into shape like I was PV—pre-Vlad.

  So it gave me plenty of time to ponder just how physically ill Murphy was starting to look.

  And I didn’t like what my mind was putting together.

  Nor did I like his defensiveness when he caught me staring at him dying on the floor once he’d finished.

  • • •

  2 months later

  I didn’t know why I was at Murphy’s shop.

  I knew he wouldn’t like me being there.

  I knew he would take one look at me, and the mean words he couldn’t stop himself from spewing would come out of his mouth.

  But I was there, because today was the day that I figured out what in the hell was going on with Alessio Murphy Romano.

  At least, that’d been my intention.

  However, when I arrived inside Murphy’s office it was to find him sitting at his desk with Madden’s adult son, Jasper, leaning his hips against the other side of the desk while they spoke.

  “…the lawyer just outside of town. His name is Jarome Matters. He’s a slick SOB who knows everything there is to know about the law. But he’s also not necessarily a family estate lawyer, either. He dabbles in a little bit of everything. I don’t see why he wouldn’t be able to help you do what you need done.”

  Vlad cooed, excited to see the man that he loved more than his own mother, and both sets of eyes swung in my direction.

  I’d purposefully parked at the bottom of the driveway so that Murphy wouldn’t hear me pull up. So he wouldn’t be able to send his mother out here to ‘deal’ with me like he had the last time while he hid somewhere in his big shop.

  But this time, I didn’t see his mother.

  Vlad screeched again and lunged.

  The only thing holding him in place at this point was my strong hold on his hips.

  Murphy’s face went from blank to happy at the sight of my kid, and that battered and bruised thing inside of my chest bumped slightly in reaction.

  I walked over and handed Vlad to Murphy before he hurt himself or me—I’d literally thrown my back out twice over his short life trying to keep him in my arms. And both times had been because he’d wanted down when I hadn’t expected it.

  The moment that Vlad hit Murphy’s arms, he threw himself into the world’s tiniest hug, and laid his head down on the big man’s chest.

  A chest that, I noticed, was moving quite a bit faster even from the small exertion of extricating Vlad from my arms.

  I narrowed my eyes.

  “Why do you need a lawyer?” I asked bluntly.

  Tell me why, Murphy. Please, please, please tell me why.

  I knew why.

  I had already put the missing pieces together.

  I just needed him to admit it to me.

  Something that I knew he wasn’t going to do. At least not yet.

  He didn’t want me to know.

  For some reason, he wanted to appear as if he was okay.

  But I knew that he wasn’t.

  In my heart, I’d made the connections he hadn’t wanted me to make.

  And now I couldn’t stop myself from getting him to admit it.

  “None of your business,” Murphy grumbled darkly.

  Jasper, who’d been silent up until now, looked me over from head to toe.

  “I haven’t seen you in a while, Mavis.” He smiled. “Looking great.”

  I snorted. “Whatever. I still have about fifteen pounds to lose.”

  I patted my softened middle section to prove my point.

  Jasper’s eyes went from my belly, to the baby that Murphy was holding, to my belly again.

  “I didn’t realize that you had a baby,” he mused.

  I shrugged. “Vlad is my little secret. I haven’t told many people, and I don’t bring him to the gym, so how would you know?”

  Jasper’s eyes sparkled. “I’ll continue to keep your secret then, darlin’.”

  I harrumphed, causing Jasper to smile wide in reaction.

  “Well, four people know too many. I’m headed out. Let me know if you need anything, Murph.” Jasper paused, and when Murphy looked up at him his eyes were serious as he said, “Anything at all, Murphy. I mean that.”

  I gritted my teeth and tried to keep my temper under control.

  After Murphy said ‘thank you’ I said, “Why do you need a lawyer?”

  Murphy grumbled something under his breath and stood up. But as he did so, I observed his color.

  He looked very pale today.

  He tried to hand Vlad back to me, and I crossed my arms over my chest.

  Vlad didn’t want me, anyway.

  “If I take him now, he’ll just scream the whole time. And I want to be able to have a conversation with you,” I told him.

  “Well, I don’t want to have a conversation with you,” Murphy shot back.

  I tried not to let it show how hard his small barbs hit, but eventually, I was going to have too many to stand.

  And I would show how much they really hurt to have lobbed my way.

  I didn’t know why, but I was really fucking in love with Alessio Murphy Romano.

  God help me.

  “Please talk to me,” I pleaded.

  Instead of answering me, he walked out of the room.

  I followed him, sighing loudly when I realized he was heading toward my van.

  He was already swinging the door open when I got my keys out of my pocket to lock it.

  “Shit,” I grumbled under my breath.

  Murphy started to put my son into his car seat, amongst zero disagreement from Vlad seeing as his favorite person in the world was doing it.

  I hadn’t locked the door because I didn’t want to alert Murphy that I was here.

  But my son wouldn’t be happy for long in the car seat.

  He never had been, not in all his months of life.

  And Murphy knew it.

  The moment Murphy had him in, he closed the door and turned to me. “Go home, Mavis.”

  I opened my mouth to reply, hotly might I add, that I would stay for however long I wanted.

  But then my kid started to scream.

  By the time I had him out of his car seat all over again, the bay doors to Murphy’s shop were closed, and his office door was shut tight.

  “Dammit, Alessio! I just want to freakin’ talk to you!” I cried out.

  Murphy pulled the damn blinds in response.

  “Butthole,” I grumbled.

  That’s when my son started to scream.

  CHAPTER 9

  I’m sorry for what I said during burpees.

  -Fran to Taos

  MURPHY

  2 months later

  “I’m sorry, but what?”

  The two women had made me stupid.

  That’s what I’d decided.

  “We need you to teach us how to take out a driveshaft.” Mavis, the biggest pain in my ass that I’d ever met, repeated her earlier request.

  I shook my head again, hoping to clear it of the thoughts that always plagued me when Mavis was around, and said, “I…why?”

  “Because I want to take someone’s driveshaft out, duh.” Mavis rolled her eyes.

  “Whose?” I finally asked.

  “None of your business.” She glared.

  I looked over a
t Mavis’s sister and saw her eyes sparkling with mirth.

  She was holding Vlad, Mavis’s son, and trying really hard not to crack up.

  Her son, Vlad, was leaning practically all the way out of Fran’s arms, holding his own out to me, and pleading at me with his big blue jean-colored eyes to hold him.

  I would’ve if I wasn’t covered in grease and dirt from an engine that I’d just pulled apart.

  The last time I’d taken him out of someone’s arms and held him while covered in grease, Mavis had literally gotten pissed as hell for ‘ruining the clothes that she just bought him.’

  Now, I made sure to pay attention when I held him.

  Despite every cell in my body wanting to reach for him, I kept my arms where they were.

  But Vlad wouldn’t be deterred.

  He leaned even farther over, practically stretched out superman style in his aunt’s arms.

  “Oh, just take him,” Mavis ordered.

  I grinned and reached for Vlad, who came so willingly one would think that we spent more time together.

  We didn’t.

  Because Mavis and I hated each other.

  At least, I hoped I had her convinced that I hated her.

  Because if she got even one inkling that I didn’t hate her, I wouldn’t be able to keep her nosey little ass out of my business.

  And my business was failing fast.

  Vlad, the little boy that had a hold on my heart on one side, while his mother had a hold on the other side, leaned into me and placed his head atop of my failing heart.

  “I need you to show me how to do this driveshaft thing,” she ordered me.

  I couldn’t stop myself from showing her.

  A couple hours after they left, I wasn’t the least bit surprised to find her getting arrested, either.

  I couldn’t stop myself from racing to her rescue, even though I knew it was the worst idea ever.

  Thirty minutes after arriving at the police station to Mavis going at it with Heather Trudell, a reporter, I all but dragged Mavis to the car.

  “The nerve of that woman,” Mavis fumed. “Publishing my sister’s information. Putting her in the path of a madman. And then having the nerve to blame it all on us!”

  Mavis’s sister, Fran, had an article published about her in the newspaper about being an eyewitness to a string of murders that’d been going on in Paris over the last few months—a serial killer was in our midst.