“You’re damn right I do.”
“This is the type of trash you associate yourself with?” Alyson flinched when her father directed his hate-filled words at her again. Fists balled, she watched as he stalked toward Jami. Her heart thudded against her ribcage, dread consuming her. “You think you can touch my daughter? You think you’re some big badass that can do whatever you want? You and your filthy, criminal family think you own this town, but I have news for you. You ain’t shit.”
“You need to back away before something bad happens, old man,” Jami warned him, but judging by the cold, dark gleam in his eyes, he was hoping he would take another step.
“You think I’m old? I ain’t too old to kick your lily white ass, boy.” Bringing both hands up, her father shoved against Jami’s chest. Alyson cried out as Jami lost his footing and stumbled back. His arms flew out and he caught himself against the wall, then, with almost no time for recovery, he burst into action.
Alyson covered her face, shrinking back into a corner of the room as the men faced off. They were a flurry of fists and legs, both of them taking and receiving hits so brutal, blood sprayed over everything. The sounds—the sickening crunch of bone and the wet slap of blood and broken flesh. Alyson was curled into a fetal position on the floor, sobs wrenching from her chest, when the police arrived.
“Miss, are you okay?” Someone touched her shoulder, and Alyson lifted her head to look into the concerned eyes of a young female officer. “Are you hurt? Do you need me to call you an ambulance?”
Clearing her eyes, Alyson peered over the officer’s shoulder. Jami, standing in the center of her room, was being placed in handcuffs. The arresting officer’s voice was muted to her ears as he explained Jami’s rights. Alyson studied his face, swollen and streaked with blood. He stared back at her, his face a mask of calm detachment that she couldn’t comprehend.
The commotion grew, until the buzz of voices and noise pressed against her ears like a wad of cotton. As the female officer left her, Alyson noticed the prone form a few feet away, unmoving. Horror overtook her as she absorbed the look of her father’s ashen face, finally calm with a stillness of death that etched a scar so deeply into her psyche she knew she would never forget that moment for as long as she lived.
Paramedics rushed in, performing their life-saving routines. Stethoscopes, needles, and gauze made appearances, as did a stretcher. She heard the words blunt force, pulse thready, and critical at a distance.
After stabilizing her father, Alyson followed the group out. She passed her mother’s swollen and bruised face on the way out, disgusted by the wailing, whining production she made over seeing her husband in a sorrier state than she. Standing on the front step, in a hallo of light filtering from the open door behind her, Alyson watched as Jami was stuffed into the back of a police car, knowing it would be the last time she would ever see him.
She didn’t stick around to see the ambulance leave. Turning back to the house, the first stirrings of grief rose up, quickly overwhelming her. A sob burst from her throat as she closed the front door and slid down to the floor, burying her head in her knees and letting the reality of her life swallow her whole.
TWENTY-EIGHT
She refused to talk about it, only saying that it was a bad dream. Something having to do with her dad. Jami had a feeling he knew what it was, but he wasn’t going to bring it up. After waking up to her crying in her sleep, her entire body shaking in his arms, he was a little shaken himself.
It took him almost an hour to get her to calm down, and even though she fell back to sleep soon after, he hadn’t been able to follow.
His mind was clouded with images of that night. Her father. Fists. Blood. Her face, puffy and red from crying. The police. Being placed behind a cage and driven away when all he wanted to do was apologize to her. He couldn’t take back what he had done, and he always wondered if she blamed him for what happened. That she was here with him now told him she didn’t, but even after all these years, he still couldn’t shake the guilt.
He’d almost killed a man—a father and husband, no matter how despicable he happened to be. Not many would forgive such an act.
The only good that came of that night was that the beatings stopped and his life had been picked up and set down on a new path.
Today, Jami was taking the day off. Don hadn’t been too thrilled to hear it, but after a lot of bitching and moaning, he finally relented sighting his relief over being officially free of his babysitter and having an entire day to himself. Jami had to laugh. The old man didn’t know how to accept love and caring for what it was. Instead, he would rather complain about it, when Jami knew damn well that he appreciated every second of his doting.
Ally was right, though. Don was kind of like his kid. He’d been looking after him for so long, he worried when he was away. He needed to get this whole thing with the phone calls and the surprise gifts figured out so he could get back and make sure everything was still running smoothly at home. Since Don still showed up to the gym every day and was answering his phone, he had to assume that everything was cool, but it was difficult to let go of the reigns sometimes—even if the guy had the better half of twenty-six years on him.
It was hard to come to terms with the fact that, although Don had lost his wife, he was no longer the broken down shell of a man he once knew. Don was standing on his own two feet again, leaving Jami to be the one that needed to figure out what to do next.
It wasn’t usual for him to take a day off, so Jami was restless. Don said to relax and let his body recover, eat clean, no sex. Personally, he didn’t believe in that myth, but he would try to entertain him. Not too hard, but he would try.
He’d just stepped into the apartment. It was still early, but he’d safely shuttled Miles to school and Victoria to an old friend’s house for a visit. They were doing “‘craft stuff”.’ Whatever that was. So for a few hours, he and Ally had the place to themselves.
Setting his keys on a table, Jami was kicking off his shoes and heading for the bedroom when Ally’s phone began buzzing on the table. Glancing around, she didn’t appear to be up yet, so he answered.
“Hello?” He listened to the dead silence on the other end of the line and felt his fury begin to bubble to the surface. This asshole was going down. “You have one chance to answer me, and then you’ll be sorry.” He counted to one, and when there still wasn’t an answer, he made a promise. “I’m coming for you, asshole.” Noting the time, Jami hung up and dialed the phone company.
This time, they were able to see where the call originated. He had a number.
Grim determination slid through his veins like ice water. He would track that bastard down and show him a thing or two.
A sound from the back of the apartment grabbed his attention, and Jami set the phone back on the table. A moment later, Ally stepped out of the bedroom. Jami paused to soak her in. She was cute in a pair of men’s white and red striped boxer shorts and a red ribbed tank to match. Her hair was a ratted up mess that looked like she had been tossing and turning all night, and fell down around her shoulders, skimming the curves of the tops of her breasts.
She stopped in her tracks when she looked up to catch him watching her. “I was about to hop in the shower,” he informed her, the idea completely spur of the moment and unneeded, as he had already washed up a couple of hours ago. But cleanliness was next to godliness, and Alyson was too hot and tempting to ignore. “You wanna join me? Help conserve water?”
“We kill ponds full of fish when we take showers together,” she grumbled even as she retraced her steps and crossed to the bathroom, flipping on the light.
Jami smirked. She was even cuter when she was irritated, which was most days. He was learning that his little Ally was not much of a morning person.
After bathing each other and relishing one another’s bodies, Jami and Ally killed time lying around on the couch watching television. He had his arm wrapped around her waist, his palm flat against her stoma
ch. With his eyes closed, he focused on their combined breathing, their perfect synchronicity.
He couldn’t recall a time when he did absolutely nothing with his day. Even sick, he was up and moving. This was the first time allowing himself to forgo exercise, stay in, and just enjoy his time with a beautiful, incredible woman. When it was time to whip up some lunch, Jami observed her from across the counter, the way the sunlight glinted off her hair making her look like she’d walked straight out of a shampoo commercial. No make-up, dressed in faded jeans and a simple T-shirt, she was stunning.
As he watched her, he couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t seen her. Despite their distance, there’d always existed a part of him that couldn’t forget her, that wanted to be with her, to protect her and now he could have her—all of her—if he wanted her. The whole thing was surreal.
He had the opportunity to expand his life laid out in front of him, and he didn’t know what to do with it. He’d made fighting a priority, which left him with the question of where Ally would fit into his life, and if he wanted her to. He didn’t even know where to begin if he did decide that he wanted her to stick around, but a small piece of him was eager to find out. He didn’t have any good examples to go off, though. His parents were too fucked up to reference, and Ally? She wasn’t much better off.
They were just two people with shitty backgrounds trying to figure it out.
And maybe they could do that together, one step at a time.
Later that evening, Jami sat across from Alyson on her bed, playing UNO. So far, she had won five out of five rounds, and he was certain she was cheating.
“UNO!” Ally tossed her last card onto the pile and grinned widely. So fucking proud of herself. Hell, he would be too, if she wasn’t clearly cheating.
“No way. No way!” Jami slapped the twenty plus cards she’d saddled him with down on the bed and huffed. Reclining back against the headboard, he grumbled, “That’s impossible.”
“Why?” Alyson asked sweetly. Pushing up onto her hands and knees, she crawled over the cards to hover over him. Her eyes danced. “Because you always win?”
Jami held her gaze. “Yes.”
She laughed. An amused, giggly, girlie kind of laugh that made him want to smile, even though he refused to. This was not a laughing moment. He’d been played. Cheated. Bamboozled! “Oh, poor, poor Jami. Can beat men into a bloody pulp, but can’t win a game of cards against a girl.” Her bottom lip stuck out in a pretty pout.
Jami pounced.
“What if I told you that I let you win?” he asked, pinning her to the bed with the weight of his body.
She smiled up at him, calling his bluff. “Did you?”
“No.” He deflated. It was seriously messing with his head to have lost a simple card game. What else would happen? He’d lose a bet? A fight? It was a slippery slope he was standing on. Lowering his head, Jami flatted himself against her, the side of his face cradled between the swell of her breasts.
Her fingers slid into his hair, massaging his scalp. “You can’t win everything, Jami,” Alyson said with a hint of laughter still ringing in her voice. “Besides, you never stood a chance. I have mad card playing skills.”
Jami was happy that she was enjoying her moment of victory. It gave him a sense of peace, of rightness, right in the pit of his stomach. The sounds of her amusement, with him, with them, warmed him everywhere. Lifting his head, he looked into her eyes and said the cheesiest thing that had ever escaped his mouth. “I’ll be the judge of that.”
Ally looked at him, her lips pinned shut, the corners curving up. Her shoulders began to shake and her eyes began to tear up, and just when he was certain she would burst, her lips parted and a loud laugh ripped from her. “Oh, my God, you did not just say that!” He rode out the waves of laughter, watching her in amusement until her body stopped shaking and she dried her eyes. “Oh, oh, my stomach hurts. I haven’t laughed that hard in ages.” As she sobered she graced him with one of her brilliant smiles. “I seriously hope you don’t use that line to pick up all your women.”
Jami smiled wryly. “What, you didn’t like it? It’s my best one.”
“If that’s your best pick-up line, then it’s a wonder you’re not still a virgin.”
“Ouch, babe. No hitting below the belt.” Jami pecked her on the nose and took a moment to regard her. “I guess I’ll just have to practice on you until I get it right, then, won’t I?”
“If you get it right, then I might never let you go. That’s going to put a serious crimp in your dating life.”
Jami grew serious. Far more serious than intended, but he couldn’t seem to hold himself back from saying what needed to be said. “Ally…you know I can’t guarantee what will happen tomorrow, or the next day, but as long as I’m here, the only practice I’ll be doing will be for you.”
Her eyes warmed as she studied him. Touching his face, she traced the line of his jaw from ear to chin. Then her fingers found his lips. He opened his mouth and licked the tips as she skimmed his bottom lip, and he committed the sultry look that flashed in her eyes to memory. “You don’t lie to me, do you?”
Jami held her head in his hands and looked into her eyes. “No, and I never will.” Jami couldn’t tear his eyes away. She smiled up at him, her expression soft, welcoming. Completely open to him. No one had ever looked at him quite like she did. As if she trusted him, and she did. He knew that. It wasn’t even a question.
He could fall in love with this girl. With this woman. This person who was his friend, and the only one who knew everything about his past—everything—and didn’t judge him for it. Even Coach didn’t know what he had done before they crossed paths. He knew he had a history with the cops and a bad home life, and that was the extent of it. Was she what people thought about when they thought of soul mates? The type of person they dreamed of when combing the world for The One?
How was a guy to know?
“If you keep looking at me like that, you’re face is going to freeze. All the guys at the gym will laugh at you, and then I’ll be forced to fight for your honor.”
Jami smirked, peeled her shirt up to expose her abdomen, and lowered his head. He glanced up at her. “You have a sassy mouth, Ally. I aim to fix that.”
“What—Jami!” Ally wheezed and squirmed beneath him in a futile attempt to escape his teasing tongue. Again and again, he swirled his tongue across her stomach, chuckling with each clench of her muscles, each lost breath, and squeal of delighted torture. When she grabbed two fistfuls of his hair and pulled, he decided to have mercy on her before she ripped a chunk of it from his scalp.
Somehow, he just didn’t think bald or patchy would be a good look for a guy his age.
“All right, okay,” he said, pulling her hands away gently. “Truce.”
Her laughter abated. When he let go of her hands, her arms fell out to the side. “You’re such an ass,” she panted. “My abs will hurt tomorrow, thanks to you.”
“No, thanks to you,” he corrected her. “It’s that sassy mouth getting you into trouble.” He was grinning, amusement, and true joy filling him up to the brink of overflowing. “You make me happy,” he blurted out.
Ally’s smile faltered and Jami wanted to punch himself. Why did he say that? Touching his face, Ally angled her head, studying him. “I’m glad. You’re always so serious. You need to smile more.”
“I smile all the time,” he protested.
She rolled her eyes. “Yes, you’re right. What was I thinking? You smile every day when you get to beat on poor Mike and whatshisname. You’re a very happy man then.”
“Hey, you gotta take it where you can get it.” Jami shrugged.
Silence fell between them, and they stared into each other’s eyes. This close, there was never any room for escape. It felt like he could see into her soul, and she into his. All the layers of bullshit were stripped away, cutting right to the heart. He’d never felt this way before. As a sliver of truth sat on his tongue, he opened hi
s mouth to say what he knew she was waiting to hear. “Ally, I—” His throat closed up and no words came out.
Placing her finger over his lips, Ally hushed him. “Shh, you don’t have to say anything. I can see it every time I look at you.” She kissed him lightly on the mouth. “I feel it whenever you touch me.”
“But you want—”
She cut him off. “It doesn’t matter. I can wait. I don’t want you to say it unless you feel it in here.” She flattened her palm over his heart. “I don’t want you to choke on the words. I want you to say them because you can’t not say them. Okay?”
He stared down at her. Who was this girl? Hundreds of women would be lined up outside his door just to hear those words, and she was telling him to wait? Unbelievable.
“I see those wheels turning,” she teased, then grew serious again. “Jami, let me ask you a question. Out of all the women you’ve had sex with, how many of them have you stuck around for?” Zero. She saw the answer in his eyes right away. “That’s what I thought, and that right there is why I am okay with waiting. Your heart already knows what it wants. Now we just have to wait for your brain to catch up.”
Jami shook his head at her playful smirk. “How’d I find such a smart girlfriend?”
Ally gasped. As the words he spoke registered, she beamed at him. “You just called me your girlfriend.”
Shit. “I guess I did, didn’t I?”
“Yep.” She was smiling so wide, he thought her face might crack, and it inspired his own smile to make an appearance. “Does this mean I get to call you my boyfriend?”
Panic rose up and grabbed his ankle with cold fingers. “How about we just take this one step at a time.”
“Right, I forgot you were a commitment-phobe.” When he would have argued that point, Ally rose up and kissed him quiet. “Good thing your girlfriend is so patient and understanding. Now, kiss me, you fool.” Grabbing the back of his head, she kissed him dramatically.
A shiver tracked down Jami’s spine as her tongue slid against his. When he tilted his head to take control of the kiss, her lips softened, submitting to him. He growled possessively, the need to be inside her too great to ignore.