Love Lines- Bradley

by Falon Gold

  She sounded as if trying to convince herself more than me. The urge, to make sure she found whatever enlightened path in life she was seeking, rose up like a damn phoenix from the ashes.

  Don’t get involved any further, Bradley.

  Another wintry breeze tornadoed around us. She trembled. Goosebumps trickled across the too slender column of her neck, along the unprotected skin of her chest where her collar bones jutted out too far as if she was emaciated. It was almost unattractive. Almost. She really needed to eat more often and warm up now.

  “You should go in the house. It’ll only get colder.” Don’t get involved any further, Bradley. “I’m going to leave my number with you in case Rafe comes back, acting like he’s on his monthly.”

  You just got involved further, Bradley.

  Shit.

  She giggled, retrieving her phone from her coat pocket. The strain around her eyes lessened. I noted the cute creases of skin at the bridge of her button nose that appeared with her humor. Shouldn’t be noting anything about her. A smile lingered on her heart-shaped lips that I loved to feel…

  Not going there.

  Unaware of my gutter thoughts intruding on the moment, she activated her phone screen. For some reason, both of our moods were brightened. What had I done? It was too late to take it back now. I recited my digits. She logged them in. Now that I was fully involved, Rafe would deal with someone his size from now on. I didn’t have to like her or fuck her to make sure she was safe.

  Delilah extended her left hand, wanting to shake my left. I stopped cold. No one wanted to shake that hand. She tipped her head to the side.

  “I’m not afraid of your prosthetic, Bradley.” She had reached for it intentionally when most people were afraid of it like I had no control over it. Like I’d reach out and grab them with it. Or, it would on its own. I and it would together if someone was being an asshole.

  Delilah shifted her slight weight to one foot, digging in to wait. Well, hell. “I’m not done thanking you for saving my ass tonight, so you’re going to shake my hand and like it.”

  Caught off guard by her insistence and audacity, my mouth flopped open, jaw scrubbing the deck. I was more uncomfortable with her touching that part of me than she was, which was not at all. Huh.

  Chapter Five

  ~Bradley~

  I took her hand just to see if she’d pull back after getting what she thought she wanted. “You’re bossy, would make a good general.”

  Pumping our intertwined fingers, she snickered, eyes alight with… something. Pleasure maybe. Hopefully.

  No, not hopefully, dumbass.

  “Thank you again, Bradley.” Definitely not going to pull back.

  “You’re welcome.” Immediately, I had newfound respect for her, not as prejudiced as she used to be.

  The air around us thickened like something was brewing. The organic material under the lightweight titanium and aluminum mix casing tingled in her grip. It hadn’t done that before. Her grasp was strong for such a skinny girl. That surprised me.

  The realization that I had been underestimating this woman dawned; she was stronger than I thought. I sort of liked that about her. Sort of. Still didn’t like surprises though her unassuming inner and outer strength were fascinating. Fascinating? Time to go quick, fast and in a damn hurry.

  This close to wanting to stay because she seemed accepting of all of me, which made her even more desirable. Acceptance was hard to find prior to joining the military. The few times I had it, in Duchess for one, I was too angry to hold on to it. The anger and self-sabotaging I was so hell-bent on wreaking havoc with here would’ve worked against me on enemy turf, so I let it go.

  Wanting to live more than anything, I got comfortable with my lot in life and not having things I wanted. Delilah had become the latter. If I was honest with myself, she was too far out of my league. I wasn’t into torturing myself with things nor women I couldn’t have or satisfy. Not anymore. Opening my hand invited her to let go. A part of me couldn’t stand the absence of her touch even before I withdrew. What. The. Hell?

  Stashing my hand away, I stepped back—she was too damn tempting. “Go on inside. Lock the door. Call me if there’s any more problems with anyone.”

  And you just made yourself her protector-on-call.

  It was happening whether I wanted it to or not. Might as well get in the groove of it.

  “Is that an order, soldier?” she teased, pocketing her hands above curvy hips despite her miniature build. A reckless, mesmerizing grin covered her mouth, welcoming doors to open that I couldn’t close back swiftly enough. That smile, those lips. Damn. A grown man would beg to test them out, if it were any other grown man standing here.

  “Yes ma’am, that’s an order. Check the windows too. Keep your phone and Olivia close. Don’t think for one moment that you know Rafe well enough to predict his next movement. You’ll never know anybody that well. Change the locks tomorrow to be on the safe side.”

  Her smile vanished. The strain around her eyes returned. I hated being the catalyst for her mood swing, but putting the fear of God and man into her could save their lives.

  “Okay,” she mumbled. “Would you like to come inside for a cup of coffee to warm up?”

  Yes. No. Don’t even think it. You’re too deep in her life as it is, want more from her than you should. She’s emotionally compromised.

  Helping some people out of a tough spot made them do strange things they’d regret later. I sure as hell wouldn’t, but I wasn’t taking the chance of being any woman’s regret ever again. “No, it’s okay. You should get to sleep. Olivia has school and things are more clearer in the morning.”

  If she thought she wanted me right now, she wouldn’t tomorrow. I wasn’t her type, didn’t think I’d resist her hero worship if she wanted to give it to me. I’d come a long way, but not that damn far, still a man with fully-functional, sometimes with a mind of their own parts.

  Delilah frowned, possibly not liking the hint of rejection in my words if she had other plans. It was for her own good. Maybe, she wanted me to come inside out of fear only—safety in numbers and all that. Didn’t matter. Protecting her was as far as our paths crossed, as close as we got. I was simply protecting myself from the classy package of appeal she was.

  She nodded, turning to enter the house. The sway of her slim hips and long legs hypnotized. The click of engaging locks snapped me out of my stupor. The front room’s light cut out minutes later, long enough for me to have evacuated already. I hadn’t, waited around some more in the loving arms of the inky-black night. For what? Her to come back and insist I come inside? Rafe? Frankly, it was all the above. That was too much.

  A phone rung twice inside the house. It acted as an alarm. I fled like a burglar at risk of getting caught, keeping to the shadows. In my cold truck, I cranked the heat, eying the time on the dash. Ten after nine. Aiden was sleep by now.

  Agitated, I scrubbed my scalp with both hands. “What the fuck just happened?”

  I still had no idea at four a.m., heading home.

  ********

  ~Delilah~

  “Oh my God, Delilah!” Lilah Baldwin harped like a banshee into the line. “Are you seriously divorcing Rafe because he had one affair? Do you really have a boyfriend who’s genetically modified and the father of the illegitimate son of your little friend Duchess?”

  Should’ve left the phone turned off and kept driving.

  Since Olivia wasn’t in the immediate vicinity, I turned the phone back on after chauffeuring her to school late on purpose. That and the unusual low temperature upset her routine of walking with the neighborhood kids to class. My sidewalk chats with the mothers were voided, and I wanted to avoid the conversation that was happening right now with them. It would’ve inevitably led to why was Duchess’ baby daddy over here with the women like it had with my mother.

  There was no way my face wouldn’t betray my interest in Bradley. My mouth would pose questions it shouldn’t about him, w
hich would raise the women’s curiosity. But, I had to start dealing with everyone sometime, wanted to get this tête-à-tête over with.

  “Mother, really? Genet…” Finding it difficult to repeat that word spoken like an offence even in my mind, I rubbed at the throb building behind my eyes since learning Rafe had been hard at work, exaggerating, lying, and downplaying his part in last night’s fiasco. Too freaking socially-conscious and pretentious Lilah was on the verge of an apoplectic fit, the rocky hill she steered my life down crumbling as she looked on.

  Now that things had changed, she’d possibly die stiffer than a doorknob. Honestly, I kind of wished she would. It was too early in the morning for this shit. The afternoon, evening, and late night wouldn’t have made a bit of difference. She had never been like Duchess’ mother: nurturing, caring, or unconditionally supportive. I didn’t think Lilah was capable of it, and she’d rather die stiffer than a doorknob than let anything, anyone damage the front she presented to the world.

  “Delilah,” she started.

  “First, Bradley hasn’t been here in six years. He’s not genetically modified, he’s an amputee with a prosthetic hand that put down Rafe, well, jacked up Rafe like the dog he is. Your pet’s disgraced. That’s why he’s been whining to you.”

  “Pet!” she shrieked at the slur.

  Calling Bradley modified, Duchess my little friend wasn’t offensive to her, but ‘pet’ was. What did I do that was so bad in my last life to deserve her as a mother, Ed for a father in this one?

  “You heard me, mother. Rafe would’ve hurt me last night, maybe even Olivia. He wanted to use her to make me come to him, so he could remind me who the damn boss was around here. His words, not mine.”

  “Delilah,” she rebuked low but forcefully.

  I knew what that tone meant; I couldn’t justify my actions no matter how right they were and had gone too far with the cursing. “Are you really going to defend him right now? Do you really not care about your daughter’s and granddaughter’s safety? Should I have stayed with a man that has cheated on me since we met, was going to continuously do so and maybe start hitting me too to make me tolerate his crap and obey him? You do know once the physical abuse starts, it never stops and sometimes escalates to the children in the home being abused too, right?”

  “So I’ve heard, but—”

  “But!” I was horrified. “Tell me you care for us more than keeping a toxic relationship together so you can brag about the blue-blooded doctor in the family.”

  “Of course, I care about you and Olivia.” Maybe one day, she’d act like it. Until then…

  “So you support my separation from him?” Of course not; she was too set in her policy, the same one passed down to her, but it wasn’t mine to live by anymore.

  “Well, now, I didn’t say I support it, Delilah. You’re and Olivia are used to a certain lifestyle that you can’t provide on your own.” Not facts, not her business after this dialogue.

  Pushing air through my nose from my seat on the couch, I palmed a thigh, praying for patience—she was my mother after all. “My lifestyle isn’t the point, my and my child’s safety is. You don’t support the separation because I’d be messing up my extension of your image, but I don’t owe you anything. If I did, I paid in full a long time ago as far as I’m concerned.”

  “Don’t tell me you don’t owe me anything!” she barked. “We raised you and your brother with the best.”

  “You two chose to have kids. Donovan and I didn’t ask to be brought in this world.” Certainly not theirs. The cost of living in it was too high for me. Donovan didn’t have to pay, excused because he had a penis.

  I didn’t like how they had differences in us or the kind of person they made me into. Nobody did. Not even Bradley, who couldn’t turn down my company fast enough last night. That hit where it hurt the most, right in the feelings, making it hard to get to sleep. Six a.m. came too fast. Now, I needed a nap that my mother’s call at nine delayed. Irritation from the lack of rest rode me hard, provoking the bitch within to be truthful instead of mean, which was worse.

  Lilah sniffed primly. “You’re trying to start a fight.”

  “You’re too classy to argue, right?” I mocked.

  “Your tone is out of—”

  “I’m trying to get you to see that Olivia and I aren’t safe with the man you picked for me. But hey, far be it for me to want a little understanding from you, to want to make sure my daughter’s not used as a pawn by her father, and to want the people who’ll hurt us out of our lives.”

  “Delilah, are you saying you don’t want your family in yours and Olivia’s lives anymore because we’ll hurt you?” She meant have hurt, repeatedly.

  “Strange how you put yourself in that category. I’m saying I don’t want Rafe in our lives anymore. I’m saying, for once, I want my family to stand by me, stand for what’s right. I’m saying I’m challenging you to be a real family to me. It’ll be hard since you’re all used to me bending ov—”

  Her histrionic shrill cut in, “I am real family to you, I’ve done right by—”

  “No, mother, blood doesn’t make us family or you a saint. It makes us kin in a united front to a world you and father want to be envied in by any means necessary. Contrary to popular belief, life is not all about you or all a stage. Behind the scenes is where the real drama happens. It’s also where someone can be abused and used as leverage if they can’t get away fast enough. That’s what we went through last night while you were living your perfect life in your mansion on Rochester Drive. We know it’s not perfect though, don’t we?” I imagined her clutching her real pearls, damn near in hysterics at being called out.

  “Nothing is perfect,” she sniped, “and you weren’t complaining when you were growing up in this mansion.”

  “I had to live somewhere after you chose to have me. You keep evading the big picture by alluding to the material things that didn’t help me when Rafe was chasing me. Well, that’s not true. Wasn’t for the oversized furniture you picked out, he would’ve caught me long before Bradley showed up. In your own way, you saved us last night. Now, stand by us against your pick for my husband who lost his sh—”

  “No need for vulgar language,” she snapped. A curse word was what made her snap? Why was I wasting my breath with her?

  Because she was family, working her way to estranged relative rapidly.

  “You should’ve told your pick for your granddaughter’s father that there was no need for vulgar language last night. Your pick for my lifetime of misery doesn’t love me, doesn’t care for me, doesn’t see me beyond a prop for his image.” My own statement hit home like an avalanche. “You know what? Why would you mind him treating me like that when you do the same thing? You don’t care about me neither. We have nothing else to say.”

  “Delil—”

  “Goodbye, mother.”

  I hung up, couldn’t say she’d be missed. We weren’t close knit. Despite her beliefs, we weren’t better than anyone else because we had more. In our case, less would’ve been better. Less chances for her to constantly force me to do things I didn’t want to do, go places I never wanted to go, be with a man I never wanted but tolerated. But, more chances for us to learn how to love one another, be there for each other.

  I accepted that wasn’t going to happen, wishing her all the fake happiness she could find in her gilded cage. Olivia and I would be there for one another, make our own way in the world. We were far from destitute, my investment portfolio as profitable as my parents. If they were depending on me to need Rafe for something eventually taking him back, they’d be highly upset.

  I sank back on the sofa, smiling and plotting my revenge; to live life well come hell or the people that made up the elite in Laramie.

  It won’t make up for the ache in your chest Bradley caused by not liking the new you though.

  And there went my good mood. Maybe, my conscience thought I had backslid into my old ways of compensating for my grief by giving
my folks grief. Maybe, it just wanted to be a bitch and remind me of what I couldn’t have, shouldn’t want. It succeeded beyond its wildest dreams with the latter.

  Now somewhat depressed, I knuckled the ache in my chest. On the other hand, I enjoyed sitting on my ass all day in sweats, ordering in whatever carbs I wanted, trying my hand at eating my feelings.

  Chapter Six

  ~Bradley~

  School couldn’t let out fast enough. I was as nervous as an unarmed librarian in a library full of foreign and domestic terrorists. Not far from an involuntary bowel movement on Duchess’ porch—which she wouldn’t receive well—I deliberated whether all new fathers were scared shitless of a kid’s first impression of them. I knew the answer of course. One man, my father, was more into figuring out if he could punch me senseless than what I thought of him.

  I’d forget him if I could. Living in his mobile home in more need of repairs than Duchess’ house saw to it that I didn’t forget. The ghosts from my past weren’t strong enough to keep me out of Aiden’s life however. Nothing was. Not even Rafe’s influence or Delilah’s amazing strength. I wondered if she was still standing against her subjugators. It wasn’t going to be easy forsaking everything and everyone she knew nor being abandoned by them.

  Her parents and those like them needed to have their damn heads examined. Why have kids if you don’t have the capacity to care for them? It was stupid to inconvenience yourself. Should I pop by to see if she was doing alright?

  No. Don’t pop by, stop by after calling, or prowl by.

  One of the three was going to happen though. My mind couldn’t keep away from her, my body would soon follow. I needed my head examined like her parents for inconveniencing myself with being on call for a woman who had likely come to her senses by now and viewed me as an inferior once again, now that her husband wasn’t running after her.

  She might’ve even taken Rafe back already.