They had an irritating laugh, or their smiles weren’t genuine. They wanted to go to expensive places because they thought I was rich, or they just dulled my senses in general.
But if I was to be honest with myself, they weren’t Cora.
Cora was on a whole other level. She might have been younger than these other girls, but none of them could even come close to matching her. She was smart, funny, motivated, kind of a smart ass and tenacious.
She challenged me. She didn’t give in to me like so many others did because of who my parents were. But there was no way in hell Uncle Robert would let me take her out. I hadn’t even been allowed in her bedroom since God knows when.
I had been a ruthless cretin to her, and I wasn’t even sure if there was a way to come back from that. There was nothing I could say that would make it all right, or even make it sound semi-okay, and I sure as hell couldn’t tell her how much I loved her, not after the way I treated her.
There was no more questioning my feelings. No more pretending they didn’t exist. I was one hundred and seventy-two percent committed to Cora. There was no sense in denying it anymore.
Gram told me she was mine, and now I just needed to wait until I could act on that promise. I didn’t care what Jace said about it, or if people at school talked. I was done trying to be someone I wasn’t.
The chilly October night air ghosted against my skin as I sat on the back-porch swing, eyes focused on the tree house studio and the patch of dead grass illuminated by the soft glow coming from inside.
“Mind if I sit?” Aunt P’s soft, docile voice startles me and I scoot over on the bench. “You know you did this to her right?”
Don’t run from this Jackson. Own it. Face it. “Yea. I’m sorry Aunt P. I…uhh,” my hands scrub across my face before sliding back in my hair, gripping the back of my neck. “How do I make it better?”
“You’re gonna have to figure that out on your own.”
“Is she okay?” Stupid question, idiot. You’ve watched that studio like a hawk. You know the lights never go out, and you’ve seen her occasionally as she shuffles her way up the hill for school. No, she’s not okay you fool.
“Right now? No. Will she be? Eventually. Cora is strong—and stubborn, just like her daddy.” Aunt P laughs, and it’s an infectious laugh just like Cora’s, one that calls to my soul.
If she could find some humor in all of this, then maybe it wasn’t that bad.
“Umm, I think you mean just like her momma.” Uncle Robert kisses her cheek before taking a seat on the other side of me, his arm resting across the backrest.
“Are you both mad at me?” Please say yes.
“Mad? Nah. Disappointed? A little. That girl in there,” Uncle Robert says, raising his glass of amber-colored whiskey, motioning towards the studio, “that girl in there feels lost and alone. Her best friend is gone, and she has no idea what happened.”
“Sir, I—”
He shakes his head and raises his hand up to me, “I remember being your age. And I appreciate you respecting our little girl. You two are closer than most married couples, but at the end of the day, you’re seventeen and she’s almost fourteen. Absolutely nothing is going to happen here. Do I make myself clear?”
I nod. “Yes, sir.” The bottom of my stomach pits against his statement.
“Now go fix what you broke. I can’t stand this teenage angst. And here…take this, see if you can get her to eat.”
Uncle Robert musses my hair before pushing me off the swing and in the direction of Cora.
What could I possibly say to her to make her understand. Cora, I want to take you out, but your father would probably murder me. Forgive me, I was a dickweevil. I went out on a bunch of dates just to forget about you, only to realize you’re it for me. No. No. And No.
As I reach the studio windows, I stop and peer inside to see Cora standing by the stereo. Her eyes are dark and her body much frailer than I could have imagined.
I have to fix this.
A quick three knocks and I turn the doorknob to find it unlocked. Her eyes are on me as I step inside, throwing flaming daggers in my direction. Malice drips from her tongue. “What. The. Hell. Do. You. Want.”
I only have one shot at this. “Cora, I’m sorry.”
She chuckles a sinister laugh. “You’re sorry? Sorry for what, Jackson?”
God, I love the way she says my name. It doesn’t matter the tone she takes, there something special behind it either way. “For letting you down. For disappearing on you. I…I’ve just got a lot I’m trying to figure out right now.”
She crosses her arms, and her nose flairs as she huffs out a breath before rolling her eyes. “Well…sucks to be you then.” She presses play on the stereo and turns to face the mirror. “Leave. I’ve got work to do.”
She takes a beginning stance and I get my word in just before the music starts, “No.”
Her head swivels back at me, eyes narrowing into two almond sized slits as she draws out her next word, “Exxccuussee me? What did you just say?” She rolls the top half of her body while crossing her arms over her chest.
Spunk. Attitude. And fuck…she’s fourteen Jackson. Fourteen! “You heard me. No, I’m not leaving.”
I step inside and allow the door to slam shut behind me.
Her eyes widen, and she throws a foot out to the side, “This is my space.”
I stalk towards her and smile when she holds her ground. “I think technically it’s mine, since I built it.”
Again another eye roll followed by a click of her tongue, “Fine. You stay. I’ll leave.” She takes a step towards the door and I block her escape. “Move.”
I love seeing my little spitfire riled up. She pushes against me with both hands, but it does nothing to me. She tries to sidestep me, but once again I block her, only sending her temper raging. “Jackson Michael move your ass or I’ll—”
“You’ll what? What will you do, Cora? You’re weak. You don’t eat. You don’t sleep.”
She rolls her eyes and cocks her head in my direction, a sour purse to her lips as she glares at me. Eyes locked on mine in an unspoken staring contest.
“You know, two months ago I might have actually believed you could kick my ass, but now I’m afraid to even breathe on you because you might blow away.”
I’m so focused on her I don’t notice her hand moving in my direction. A barely stinging sensation spreads its way across my face as her hand connects with my cheek, proof that I was correct in my statement about her strength. The force behind her slap would make even a fly laugh at her feeble attempt to inflict any type of pain. “Did you just try to slap me?” I laugh in her face only igniting her fire more.
“I did slap you, you pompous, arrogant, self-centered, donkey ass!”
I laugh harder. I want to see how much fight she has left. If I’m not giving up on her, then she sure as hell better not give up on herself. “You do know an ass is a donkey.”
“Yes, I know that Mr. Fucking Sherlock Holmes.”
“So you just called me a donkey, donkey then.”
She stomps her foot and screeches out a growl, and as the first few tears fall, and I realize I’ve taken it too far. “Screw you, Jackson!”
I reach out to wipe her tears, but she pulls back and quickly wipes them away. Pressing the heels of her palms against her eyes, trying to force them back.
“We haven’t said more than two words to each other in months, and you think you can come in here and insult me!”
There’s so much rage, anger, sadness and loss behind her eyes, but also fire and determination as she tries to gain control of her emotions and hold herself together.
“You wanted nothing to do with me, Jax. Nothing.”
Jax. Not Jackson. How was it that I now had a preference on what name I wanted to hear from her lips. One was love, devotion, safety, while the other was nothing.
“I get that you wanted to start dating. That’s all you and Jace talked about last year
. But you didn’t even ask if I would be okay. You didn’t even care enough to talk to me.”
Oh sweet Buttercup, I didn’t want to hurt you.
She blinks once and her tears start to fall like raindrops as she scrunches her face up and angles away from me. I want to hold her. I want to catch all her broken pieces and put her back together, not in the same way, but in a sturdier way, in a way that shows how strong and determined she has become.
“I would have been fine, you know. I would have been great even. Fan-freakin-tabulous, Jax.”
She needs this. She needs to let her anger and frustration with me out. I see how it’s physically hurting her to carry it inside.
“Are you done?” I ask, stepping closer in hopes to study her.
She shakes her head no and her eyes once again find mine, locked like a hawk on its prey so I stop my advance.
“I hate you, Jackson.”
Her words sting harder than the pitiful excuse for a slap she tried to give. It’s a dagger to my heart. Plunge. Twist. Pull.
I take another step towards her, and this time she retreats. “Cora…”
“Don’t.”
“Cora, you don’t mean that.”
And just like that, she finds her strength once more, wipes her eyes one final time and without blinking stares me in the eyes before giving a little nod and pulling a smile. “You know what? Yeah, I think I do. I’m not some little girl that you can boss around anymore. I don’t need you looking out for me. You messed up, Jax.”
I want to let her own this moment, but as she stakes her independence, I watch the color fade from her skin, her pupils dilate, and tiny beads of sweat form over her goose bumped skin and I can't help but take care of her. I’d been a shitty human being. I didn’t deny that. And I would leave at any point if she asked me to, but I could not watch as the life slowly drained from her and just sit idly by. “Are you done now?” She nods her head and with the nod comes a very pronounced wobble. “Sit down Cora.”
She throws her hands on her hips; one thing’s for sure, she got her stubbornness from both her parents. “Did you not just listen to me? I don’t need you—”
“Cora, you’re about to pass out. Sit down now.”
“When did you become a doct—”
This time she wobbles more, and I rush over to help steady her. “Okay, so maybe I am. But I’m not doing this because you told me too.”
I help her down and prop her up against the mirror. Whispering, “Whatever you say, Buttercup,” in her ear on the way down.
“And don’t call me that.”
My feisty ballerina. “Here, eat this.” I pull out the candy bar Uncle Robert gave me from my back pocket and open the wrapper for her before handing it over.
“What is it?” She takes it hesitantly, as if I had done something to it.
“It’s a Snickers.” She takes a sniff and then a little nibble. “Will you just eat it?”
“Says the creepy old man with candy.”
I snap my head at her, and she giggles a little before wolfing down the entire king size bar in a matter of three bites.
“You always have candy on you?” She asks around a full mouth, a string of caramel dripping out of the corner.
“I do when I know you haven’t eaten in days.” I smirk at her and she jerks her head in my direction. “Your dad gave it to me.”
She takes a bite and relaxes her head back against the wall. “That’s not true, you know; I eat.”
I shake my head and chuckle, “You’re a terrible liar. I’m gonna sit down now if that’s okay.”
She looks at me, rolls her eyes and then nods. I lower myself next to her and pulled her close to my side, wrapping my arm around her shoulders while she rests her head against me.
This was the first time we had touched since before she left for New York.
She doesn’t fight the closeness. In fact, she breathes out deeply and seems to settle against me even more as if releasing all her pain and worry. And then, like the dumb ass I am, I kiss her forehead.
“I really am sorry Cora.”
She leans into my lips as I cup the nape of her neck to hold her steady and firm.
“Jax?” Her body slumps down, and she lays her head on my lap and I begin to play with her hair.
“Yeah?”
“Do you love me?”
I chuckle because I’m not sure how to answer her question. “Did your parents say something?”
“Mom might have alluded to it with something she said.”
I rest my head against the wall and take a minute before replying. “Cora—it’s complicated and confusing and I can't exactly explain it myself right now. But yes, I do care about you.”
She’s quiet for a minute, the steady hum of the air conditioning almost a relaxing lullaby.
“You have a really fucked up way of showing it.”
I laugh and pull her tighter to me. Tonight she’s shown me that a number has nothing to do with age. She fought hard. No longer would I see her as that little girl answering the front door with bouncy blonde curls. Tonight she made me sit up and take notice of her and the woman she was becoming.
“Tell me Buttercup, do your parents know about that mouth of yours?”
I pinch and tickle her side and she squirms to practically on top of me before I stop as she gasps for air.
“I’m tired Jax,” she says around a yawn.
“Come on, sweet girl. I’ll walk you home.”
I bounce my legs to get her off, but she shakes her head no. “Come on, Cora. You can’t sleep here. This floor’s already starting to hurt my butt. You need to be at home in bed.”
She giggles and rolls onto her back; my eyes drift from hers to her lips and back again as I sweep a strand of hair behind her ear.
“You pussy.” She laughs before burying her head into my stomach and curling her body around me.
“Again with the mouth.” I want to raise my knees and curl her into me. Fuck, I want to kiss her. Taste her lips on mine; and it would be so easy to do tonight. She’s it for me. She always was. I didn’t understand it when I was younger, but now I do. This…this…feeling…it’s too much to put on her. It doesn’t matter how I feel, only that she’s taken care of. This is big, like mind blowing, universe imploding big. If Uncle Robert understands what’s going on, then maybe there’s an age at which I can end my suffering. Whatever it is…I’ll wait.
I look around the studio for anything to try to make us both more comfortable before bouncing my legs to get her off my lap. “I’ll be right back.” I say as I stand and make my way to the exit only to return seconds later with my arms full of sleeping bags and pillows.
“Where did that shit come from?” she asks, eyes wide and perplexed.
I laugh as it seems the damn on Cora’s swearing has opened wide. I like her like this; unabashed and uncouth.
“Upstairs.” I say as if the answer should have been obvious. “I made sure I had extra stuff in the tree house after that night you made me freeze up there.”
With an opened mouth gasp and a dramatic eye roll, she crosses her arms in defense. “You could have slept in the sleeping bag with me.”
“And what exactly do you think would have happened had I done that?”
“I would have been attending your funeral three days later.” Her laughter is music to my soul. It calls to me in a way nothing else does. It fuels my muse and changes who I am. “Yea, Daddy can be a bit protective, and territorial, and possessive.”
I chuckle and nod.
“God, I’ll never have a boyfriend—at least not one that he knows about.”
She giggles, but at the mention of a boyfriend I shut down. Laying a few blankets on the floor first, and then a sleeping bag, tossing a pillow onto the makeshift bed. “Lay down Cora.”
Her laughter stops, and she crawls onto her bed. “Where are you sleeping?” she says quietly, eyes downcast like a child in trouble.
“I’ll be over here.” I po
int to an area about a foot away, making sure there is plenty of distance between us and get to work, before feeling her arms wrap tightly around my waist, her body pressed hard against my back causing the green-eyed jealous monster to vanish.
“Jax? I’m sorry too. Please lay next to me.”
“Cora, you have nothing to be sorry about.”
“Yes, I do. I shouldn’t have joked about having secret boyfriends. I don’t know how I know, but I think you’re the only one I want. Please sleep next to me.”
I rest my hand on hers and feel like an ass. She’s nearly fourteen and already feels confident tying her life to mine. She apologized because I let a single moment of jealousy slip. Fuck, I’m going to ruin her. I’m going to ruin her childhood. Fuck. Fuck. Double fuck.
I nod and pat her hand and she releases me, dragging my bed over to hers and tossing down the pillow.
Her eyes begin to drift close the minute her head settles against her pillow.
I sit down next to her and just watch her for a second before laying down. Fingers netted together behind my head, staring up at the ceiling in conflict.
“Can you turn off the lights, Jax?” She mumbles out around a yawn. I clap my hands twice and the once illuminated studio is now pitch black, only a sliver of light spills into the room from the windows thanks to the thumbnail moon.
“You have got to be kidding me! I’ve been sleeping with the lights on and using my shoes as pillows for weeks! You walk in here like Mr. Sexy Hot Boy Fixer Man and walla walla bing bang poof...I realize I could have been sleeping on soft blankets and in the dark all this time. I hate you Jackson for holding out on me for so long.”
I laugh at her frustration and boast at her name calling. It doesn’t matter if there was a hint of honesty in her words, or the way she strung them together, just the fact that I was now the one making her life better, not worse.
“Go to sleep, Cora.” I chuckle and close my eyes, listening to the rustling of the nylon sleeping bag against her body as she flip-flops around.
“Jax?”
“Hmm?”
“Will you sing me “Twinkle Twinkle”?”
Tag Fight For Me Page 24
