Be My Hero
I don't know how long I sat there, listening to her sniffle and blow her nose over the mess I'd caused, but it gutted me. My hands began to tremble as I rubbed circles over my stomach a little faster. My throat went so dry it burned.
When the front door came open, I jerked hard in surprise, making the baby inside me start too.
"Reese?" The worry in Mason's voice was evident as he shut the door. "What's wrong?"
I scooted sideways on the floor just enough to peek around the corner of the hall and into the kitchen. Mason fell to his knees in front of Reese and gathered her hands into his, pressing them against his mouth.
Fresh tears welled in her eyes. "What do you mean, what's wrong? You . . . you left."
Air whooshed from his lungs and his mouth fell open. Shaking his head adamantly, he said, "No. No, I didn't leave you. I would never leave you. Christ, Reese. I'm sorry." He scooped her into his arms and hauled into his lap so he could cradle her close. She burrowed against him and buried her face into his shoulder as he kissed her hair.
"I didn't mean to upset you. I just . . . I was so mad I couldn't see straight. If I'd stuck around a second longer, I would've said something to her, and I knew that would upset you. I was actually trying not to distress you."
She nodded her head against him but didn't look up as she sobbed. "I didn't . . . I didn't know if you were ever coming back."
"Sweet Pea." He tucked her even closer and pressed his cheek against her temple. "I would never leave you," he repeated. "I was coming back. I was always coming back. I just needed to cool off. I love you, Reese. You're everything to me. I'm sorry."
"Don't ever leave like that again."
"Okay." He kissed her temple, then her cheek, working his way to her mouth. "I promise. Never again."
I inched away to give them some privacy, but also because it was just too sweet, too heartbreaking for anything I was used to watching. Closing my eyes, I pressed the back of my head against the wall and listened to them continue to make up.
"She just, when she said that—"
"I know," Reese murmured. "I'm sorry. I—"
"No, you didn't do anything wrong. And neither did Eva, really."
My eyes sprang open. Say what? Of course I'd done something wrong. I'd been the catalyst for their entire fight.
"I mean, she didn't say anything we all weren't thinking anyway, right? Why doesn't Mason just go back to doing what he was doing before? We wouldn't have money problems then."
Wait, I totally hadn't said that. I hadn't even thought it. Why had he assumed I'd suggest such a thing? Crap. Probably because I was me, and I usually said whatever I thought would hurt a person most.
Hurt them before they hurt me.
He sounded so forlorn and upset, I put my knuckles to my mouth and bit down hard. Damn, I'd only been trying to unleash his inner jerk; I hadn't actually intended to hurt him.
"I never once thought that," Reese said. "My God, Mason. Were you . . . were you actually considering it?"
"No," he mumbled. "I would never do that to you, but the thought was there. I could probably solve all our problems in one night. I could take care of you and . . . and it seems to be the only thing I'm good for, because I freaking suck as a bartender. If they don't give me more hours at the club, I'm going to have to find something else, except the only thing I've ever done that pays better than working there is—"
"Stop," Reese commanded, her voice soft yet firm. "Just stop thinking this way. Right now. There is so much that you're good for, Mason Lowe. What happened to you back in Waterford does not define you. You're an amazing, wonderful man, and I feel lucky to wake up every morning wrapped in your arms. Now just admit you're amazing, damn it. Because you are. I wish you could see you the way I see you. That bitch, Mrs. Garrison, brainwashed you into thinking you were only good for one thing when she violated you and forced you into becoming something you hated."
My eyes popped open as Reese's words echoed through my head. Violated you. Forced you into becoming something you hated.
I sucked in a silent breath as it hit me. He had been violated by the woman who'd blackmailed him into having sex with her. And he had turned into something he hated because of it. Just as I had. We were like two peas in a pod. Well, except for the fact I'd turned into a pretentious bitch that acted like I was better than everyone else so I could conceal my dirty, dark secrets, and he remained a nice guy. But, whatever. We'd both suffered from a similar kind of abuse.
Tears rolled down my cheeks. Holy shit, Mason Lowe really wasn't a bastard. I didn't even know how to process that. All these months I'd been waiting for him to show his true colors, and he'd been showing them the entire time.
In the kitchen, the sound of kissing paused just before Reese quietly asked, "Do you want me to send her away?"
My insides coiled tight, and fear seized my throat when I realized she was talking about me.
"What?" Mason sounded clueless, though.
"Eva," Reese whispered, making me tremble. She'd done it, then. All these months, she'd never taken sides. She had more reason to hate me than anyone, yet she'd remained my friend and stood up to her boyfriend to help me out. But now . . . now she was choosing him over me.
I didn't blame her, not one bit, but it still infused the fear of God in me. If Reese and Mason kicked me out, I didn't know where I'd go, or what I'd do. I wasn't hard-wired to take care of myself. I wouldn't even know how to start. And with a little one on the way, I wasn't ready to start such a task. Close to Reese was the only place I felt safe.
But she kept talking. "I know how you feel about her. I've always known. But I was so guilty after she got shot by my crazy, stalker ex; I thought I owed her something. And you were always so awesome about it, even though I knew you hated the idea and probably even hate her. And I know she has her problems, but she's my cousin and . . . Seriously, Mason, if having her here is too much for you, I'll make her go. I will not lose you because of her."
Covering my mouth to hide the sound of my crying, I waited with bated breath for Mason to decide my future. I wouldn't blame either of them for making me leave. They'd already put up with more from me than they should have, but I still prayed he'd have mercy, that he'd give me one more chance. I could be a better person; I knew I could.
I touched my belly. For this little bundle of joy, I'd be anything I had to be.
"You would really kick her out?" Mason sounded stunned. "For me?"
Reese gave a soft laugh before I heard a loud kiss. "Of course. You mean more to me than anyone."
I brushed the tears off my cheeks and drew in a deep breath. I could survive this. No matter what happened, I'd survive, even if it landed me and my baby on the streets.
"Jesus, Reese," Mason muttered. "Don't put this on me. You know I don't want her here. But I want to make you happy. And shit, where else is she supposed to go? Didn't your mom already say she wasn't having any part of it?"
"Yeah, but maybe my sister or one of my friends . . . " Reese trailed off as if she realized neither of those options would work.
"Aside from what she said tonight, she seems to be changing," Mason argued, as if he were actually coming to my defense. "I don't . . . I mean, you taught me that everyone deserves a second chance. That's something I love most about you. How freaking forgiving you are."
I nodded, agreeing with him. Reese forgave too easily. But since she'd forgiven me for things I didn't deserve to be forgiven for, it was one of the things I loved most about her too.
I tried to sniff up some of the tears leaking down my cheeks, but I realized too late that they'd heard me. Before I could push to my feet to escape to my room, both Mason and Reese appeared in the doorway.
When they saw me bawling on the floor, my face heated mercilessly. I lifted a hand in apology, trying to excuse my behavior. "Sorry. Ignore me. Freaking pregnancy hormones."
"Oh, hell, E." Reese knelt next to me and pulled me into a hug. "How much did you overhear?"
"All of it," I admitted, wiping my cheeks and hugging her back before I looked up at Mason. "I'm sorry," I told him. "And I'm not just saying that to try to get you to let me stay. If you want me to go, I'll go. I totally understand, but I . . . really, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said it. I didn't understand. I don't think I wanted to understand. But I do now, and it'll never happen again."
He closed his eyes and blew out a breath, his jaw hard and unforgiving before he muttered, "Damn it," and got down on the floor to sweep both of us girls into his arms for a hard family hug. "It's okay," he reluctantly admitted, not meeting my gaze before he pulled away, touching Reese's back while he did as if he needed to feel her for support.
She smiled at him and nodded her approval. In that moment, he became the only male I'd ever considered not evil. And for the first time since Reese and he had hooked up, I was actually jealous of her. She'd found a diamond in the rough. She deserved it more than anyone I knew, but a part of me still felt covetous. Now that I knew there was actually such a thing as a good guy, I wanted one too. I wanted some white knight to be my hero.
Screw girl power. I wasn't strong. I wasn't anything. I needed help. A lot of help.
Clearing my throat, I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. "I can leave now," I offered. It was the very least I could do. I had no idea where I'd go, because Reese was the last person I could turn to. But there had to be some kind of shelter in this town where I could stay the night. Right?
"You don't have to go," Mason mumbled. "We said we'd help you until you could get out on your own. And we will."
More tears flooded my cheeks. "I don't know how long it will take. I'll look for a job as soon as the baby's born, and I'll chip in on the bills and—"
Mason covered my hand briefly. The warmth and compassion in his fingers startled me. "Just . . . take care of your kid. The rest will come when it comes. We'll help you."
His kindness and willingness to give me a second chance pulverized me. For the first time in years, I finally felt free. I didn't have to worry about any male in my own home trying to get at me. I could just live, focus on my baby, and begin the rest of my life. Except, now that I could finally be me, I felt lost.
I had no idea who I really was.
Chapter 2
PICK
I had sacrificed a lot over the years to help friends out. I'd dished out my own hard-earned money to get people out of trouble. I'd gone cold all winter to make sure others had coats. I'd stayed up all night with a baby so someone else could get a little shut-eye before I had to head into work at the ass-crack of dawn the next morning. But I had to admit, I'd never given up sex for anyone before.
That's exactly what I was about to do.
Sitting outside the judge's chambers in the courthouse, I tapped my toe against the floor as Tristy and I waited for them to call our names. Next to me, she sneezed and scratched a spot on her shoulder. She used to scratch her arms all the time when she was tweaking. Drugs had made her do all kinds of weird shit.
Hoping she hadn't started that up again, I shot her a sharp glance as she dropped her hand. I thought I'd been careful, keeping a close eye on her. She said she'd been clean for the past six months. But I knew I couldn't watch her all the time, not when I was working two full-time jobs and pretty much only came home to sleep.
Catching my stare, she frowned. "What?"
I shook my head and turned away. She had assured me she'd stopped the drugs, so I chose to believe her. But she better not fuck with me on that issue, because I was sacrificing a lot—my fucking sex life included—to help her out.
Closing my eyes, I rested my head against the wall behind me and tried to remember the last time I'd actually had sex. The memory could be my way of saying goodbye to it for the next couple of months or—shit, I hoped not—years.
My buddies at Forbidden, the bar where I worked, thought I got laid damn near every night. While that might've been nice, it wasn't anywhere near the truth. Ten out of ten times, I didn't touch the girls the guys saw me take home from the bar, nothing beyond a hug or kiss on the cheek, because they were drunk when I drove their cute asses home. No self-respecting guy took advantage of a wasted chick.
I couldn't even remember the last time I'd been inside a woman, how long ago it had been or even with whom, so of course my mind brought up an image I never forgot. And it was as if I was still fourteen, being fed the glimpse by that old witch. I saw unique blue eyes first, then her blonde hair, her smile, the hint of lilac.
A sigh eased from my lungs.
My Tinker Bell.
But thinking about her—whoever she was—only made my chest ache. If Madam LeFrey were still alive, I'd look that woman up and cuss her out. It'd been ten years, and she still had me dreaming about those goddamn glimpses. Ten years, and I still wanted Tinker Bell to be a real person I could really meet. Ten fucking years, and I still thought my happily ever after might come true.
Fucking bullshit.
Wishing Madam LeFrey were toasting in a nice fiery pit in hell right about now, I opened my eyes when a small whimper came from the floor between me and Tristy. The car seat began to sway as the baby inside woke, thrashing his arms and legs.
Tristy moaned and sent the kid a glare. "God . . . damn it. He just went to sleep. Why can't he just stay the fuck asleep for ten full minutes?"
I scowled at her before leaning forward. "I got him." She didn't attempt to stop me as I pushed the handle out of the way and unbuckled him from his carrier. When he looked up at me and kicked his legs as if glad to see me, I couldn't stop a smile. "Hey there, Fighter. You have a good nap?"
Tristy snorted. "Like he's going to answer you."
I ignored her and focused on cradling the three-month old to my chest. He rooted around at my shirt as if he were seeking something to eat, which was strange. Tristy sure as hell had never breastfed him. I have no idea how the kid even knew he could get food there.
I chuckled and stroked my hand over dark curls. "You hungry, little man?"
Thank God Tristy didn't berate me again for asking him a question as I bent forward and dug inside the diaper bag to find the bottle I'd put in there before we'd left the apartment. I probably would've snapped something rude back at her, and grooms really shouldn't snap at their brides, especially on their wedding day.
But she was definitely in a mood. I had no idea what had gotten her so pissy. Maybe all women went through a grouchy stage right before they got hitched. Not that there was going to be anything conventional about the piece of paper we were about to sign, legally binding us together.
With a baby who required regular medical check-ups, Tristy needed insurance. She hadn't passed governmental approval for the free stuff, and since my boss at the garage where I worked during the day had recently signed me up for a nice insurance plan, one I could put Tristy and her little man on—if we were husband and wife—I'd come up with the idea to marry her.
I knew it was in name only and not a real marriage. Tristy wouldn't care if I went on a date with someone else. But that didn't seem fair to whomever I might go on a date with.
I could already imagine how it'd play out. Shh, baby, we gotta keep your orgasm quiet. Don't want to wake my wife in the next room. Or her kid. Yeah, that was not going to happen.
Besides, in the eyes of the law, this was the real deal, so I had decided I'd be celibate until she finally got her life back on track and we could annul things amicably. It was anyone's guess when that would happen, but she'd been staying clean and doing well since she'd given birth. Hopefully a couple months, half a year, and she could get out on her own.
Aside from my dick going cold turkey, the marriage thing wouldn't change too much else in my life. I'd already been letting her crash in my guest room since she'd been three months pregnant when she showed up on my doorstep crying and destitute. So the only thing that would really change was her last name, my insurance plan, and yeah . . . my very pissed off penis.
Tristy had actuall
y gotten pregnant two times before. The first two had ended up in miscarriages because she hadn't been willing enough to clean herself up. But this time, I'd had enough. I'd watched her like a hawk to keep her off drugs while she was carrying, and she'd only had a couple setbacks. Surprisingly, the third time was a charm. This baby made it, and now he was already three months old.
I called him my little fighter.
I needed to call him something because it pissed me off that Tristy had named him Julian. She'd liked the name ever since I'd gotten it tattooed on my chest years ago, right alongside the names Skylar, Chloe, and Tinker Bell. Though honestly, I don't know why it mattered what she named her kid. I was never going to meet Tinker Bell, so our three children together were never going to exist.
If Tristy wanted to steal my baby's name . . . whatever. It didn't matter.
At least, I didn't want it to, which was probably why it bothered the hell out of me so much.
And why did I keep thinking about Tinker Bell and our non-existent future together?
Probably because I was about to get married—even if it was just a marriage of convenience—and she was the only person I'd ever imagined as my wife. I wanted to stop thinking about her. I wanted to stop feeling guilty as if I was betraying her for helping out a friend. I wanted . . . fuck, I wanted her to walk through the door this very second so she could sweep me away to happily ever after, and I could leave this shitty life behind.
But the only woman who poked her head through the doorway was a short, plump, gray-headed clerk who said, "Ryan?"
"That's us." I smiled at her as I got to my feet, keeping a happily drinking Julian cradled in the crook of my arm.