WYATT
“Son,’’ Danny Burton, my adoptive father and the only one who deserved to be called Dad, beckoned me, drawing my attention back to the present. I kept on daydreaming while looking at an old baseball in my gloved hand.
I looked up and found my father waiting expectantly with his gloved hand ready to receive the baseball.
It was our thing. Neither of us was huge baseball fans since we preferred football and basketball, but whenever we had a family lunch for as far as I could remember since I had met him, we would end up throwing the ball while talking about some things. It was nice, but right now I wasn’t feeling it.
“Sorry,’’ I mumbled and threw the ball without much conviction. It sailed way above him and rolled into one of my mom’s flower bed. I cringed. “Shit.’’
My father took off his glove and shook his head, a smile on his face as he glanced back at me after eyeing the flower bed with reluctance. “You know what? I don’t feel like getting my ass kicked by your mother. If she sees us traipsing in her flowers, she’s going to ring our ears.’’
“She’ll see the ball tonight when she waters the flowers,’’ I pointed out and gave him my glove.
“I’ll get it before then. Let’s have a seat.’’ He led me to the outdoor table and chairs and put down the gloves on the table. As he leaned back, he exhaled loudly.
“You look tired, Dad.’’
He chuckled and rubbed his eyes. The circles under them would have been worrying if I hadn’t seen them whenever he was on a case at work that demanded long hours and called for a lot of stress. Being a cop was nothing like what was shown on most TV series as he pointed out frequently whenever he talked about his job.
“I had a long day yesterday. We closed a case around midnight, in the nick of time before the man’s custody was over. Then we had all the paperwork to fill.’’ He yawned and waved it off. “I’m not getting any younger, and I can’t pull off late nights like I used to.’’
Ava’s laughter rang from somewhere inside the house and Mom’s voice accompanied the happy sound that chased away some of the dark fog surrounding me.
“I told myself I wouldn’t ask you, but…’’ Dad said and scratched at his skull where his short hair freshly cut showed more and more gray than the light brown he used to have.
“What is it?’’
“I’m worried about your mother.’’
“What’s wrong?’’ Fear clogged at me instantly.
“Maybe I’m way over my head, but she’s a lot more subdued since… well, since…’’ he trailed off, looking for his words apparently and it didn’t take a genius what brought that change in Mom.
Fists tightly closed I answered. “Since Marissa Thornton came here.’’
He nodded and sighed again, glancing at the house before fixing me with his clear blue eyes that had been a steady fixture in my life ever since I was thirteen years old. “I’m sure it’s a difficult subject for you too and—''
“It’s okay, just tell me what’s wrong with Mom.’’
“She looks sad, and I think she’s worried she won’t hear from her again. She doesn’t talk to me, son.’’
Once again, his eyes went to the house. I hadn’t seen him quite like this since his father, my grandfather who gave me his apartment in inheritance, passed away a couple of years ago.
“What do you want me to do?’’
“Ah,’’ he sighed and ran a hand over his scruff, something he rarely kept on since he always shaved closely, but whenever his work ran him hard he would spend a day or two without shaving. “I just want to make sure it went okay when she came to see Lydia. Lydia called me at work that day, and she was emotional. But you know your mom. She’s quick to keep things to herself when she doesn’t want others to judge.’’
“I know.’’ The memory of that first moment I had seen Marissa in front of the house hit me and the way that had made me feel. It was still as fresh as yesterday, mostly because I was stuck in a loop where she was concerned. “I wasn’t in the same room the whole time, but it looked like it went okay.’’
“Lydia mentioned that Marissa hit it off with Ralph. Do you think he’s been in contact with her?’’
“You’re playing cop or what?’’
He laughed and closed his eyes briefly. “I’ve been a cop a long time. I can’t shake off some habits.’’ He stared at me a moment without speaking, and I remembered him doing exactly that whenever he wanted to get to the bottom of something. Unfortunately, as good as I was being closed off, I still couldn’t hide shit from him when he had it in his head that I knew something he wanted to be privy. “It’s not like you to evade. Well, it’s not like you to evade unless there’s something you don’t want to say.’’
“Dad…’’ I breathed and crossed my arms, knowing that it would tell him that he was onto me.
“Don’t bullshit me, Wyatt. It’s important.’’
“I know it is!’’ I blurted and jumped to my feet. I paced in front of the table under the watchful eyes of my father who knew me well enough to be aware that I needed a moment to gather my thoughts. “I don’t think Marissa will contact Mom anytime soon.’’
“What did you do?’’
It never failed to hurt like a fucking gunshot when your adoptive father, a man you consider one of the best men, immediately assumed that you fucked up. He was right, of course, but it hurt like hell that he didn’t doubt one second that I did something wrong. He knew me too well to give me the benefit of the doubt.
“For what it’s worth, she has a great family, and she only wanted answers.’’
“Wyatt.’’ He stood up, and while my father was a couple of inches shorter than me, he still held the kind of authority I fought as a teenager but had always respected deep down. “If you don’t want to tell me what you did, it’s fine, but you better find a way to mend things. It’s not about me or you or Ava. It’s about your mother and her past. You should know better than anyone what kind of damages a past can do to someone.’’
Flashes of the past assaulted me, knocking the wind out of me.
“I’ll see what I can do,’’ I answered, but my voice reached my ears as if I was underwater. The sounds distorted, pushed me further into the past. I heard myself cry in the night. I heard his curses. I heard other voices. Mostly, I felt the emotions from back then, and it ruined me.
“Wyatt.’’ Hands touched my shoulders, the touch nothing like the kind from that past. Slowly, my sight cleared and my adoptive father’s face came into focus. “I’m sorry, son.’’
“You said nothing wrong,’’ I whispered. My voice, gone, was barely audible. I took a step back, pulling away from the comforting touch, from the reminder that my past was in the past. “I’ll make sure Marissa calls mom.’’
“Thank you.’’
“Yeah,’’ I said and nodded. “I better go. I don’t want to be stuck in traffic.’’
We both knew it was a bullshit excuse, but he let me go with it.
***
MARISSA
“Marissa,’’ Jade’s head popped through the door of the small office at InkSpired, forcing me to look up from a wicked design of flowers woven through a gilded cage for a new client. Kam agreed to let me work on the first draft of the design and check with the customer in a couple of days to see what she thoughts. I was getting close to finishing my apprenticeship, and that couldn’t come too soon.
“What’s up?’’
“There’s the guy you tattooed a few weeks ago out front. Remember the one with the blonde faux-hawk?’’
“He’s here?’’ I frowned at her nod. My grip on the red pencil tightened. “Is he alone?’’
“Yeah. Why?’’
“Forget it,’’ I said and stood up. “Thanks, Jade.’’
“Don’t mention it. I just finished the tat on the big whining dude. I need a break now. The bigger and scarier looking, the whinier they are.’’
I chuckled and left her to the coffee machine and the prime coffee.
“Hey Marissa,’’ Ralph called out as soon as I cleared the hall leading to the back and came into view of the tall man standing in front of the empty front desk. “Where’s your friend?’’
“Sophie?’’ I asked, startled and wondering if my hunch that it was about his best friend was out of the mark. I hadn’t heard anything from Wyatt in over two weeks. At first, I thought he wouldn’t respect my wish for no more contact, but after a few days, I was convinced that this fucked up part of my life was over. “She took the day off. Did you want to see her?’’
He shrugged and smiled at me, but it wasn’t like his usual flirty smile. In fact, now that I took the time to observe him over he seemed uncomfortable. He fidgeted every few seconds, toyed with the loop in his right earlobe and his eyes kept on going from me to everywhere in InkSpired.
“Ralph?’’
“I’m here because Wyatt asked me to.’’
“Oh no.’’ I shook my head quickly, so quickly that the tip of my ponytail hit my cheeks twice each side. “No. I’m over his shit.’’
“Listen to m—''
“No!’’ I pointed at him and whisper-yelled, “You seem like the most sensitive of the two, so you listen to me. I want nothing to do with Wyatt Burton. Nothing.’’
He grabbed my pointer finger and held me captive. His frown then rivaled with my own. “I get it, but it’s not about him. It’s about your…Hm, birth mother.’’
“What about her? Is she alright?’’
“She’s fine, I guess. I don’t know much, but apparently, she doesn’t take it so well that you haven’t been in contact since you went to meet her. Long story short, Mr. Burton questioned Wyatt, and he let it slip that it’s because of him that you’re not in contact. Wyatt is many things, but he’d rather hurt himself than let someone in his family hurt.’’
“You know he did everything to push me away from Lydia, right?’’
“I have a feeling you’re quite lost yourself in this situation and that it suits you just fine to stay away.’’
I tugged on my hand hard twice until Ralph released me and I crossed my arms over my chest, not liking how his observation made my heart stutter in my chest as if in answer. I didn’t want to see myself that way.
“True or wrong, the fact is I have a right to stay away from Wyatt and Lydia.’’
“When you met Lydia, did she give you the impression of being a bad person? Did she look like she was happy to abandon you?’’
“Stop it, Ralph. We don’t know each other well enough to delve into this.’’
“It’s funny you know. You’re more alike to Wyatt than either of you would like to admit.’’
“I’ve never hurt anyone just for the sake of it.’’
“But are you willing to let Lydia hurt just because you’re scared or uncomfortable?’’
“You’re not adopted are you, Ralph?’’ At his admittance, I powered on. “Then you can’t possibly understand the kind of emotional crap meeting your birth mother is.’’
“You knew it would be a mess before you went to her, Marissa. Be the kind of woman I know you are, the kind of person Wyatt is ashamed of hurting the way he did.’’
I blindly searched for the rolling chair behind me, and once my hands came into contact with the arms, I dropped on it. My eyes got lost in the intricate tats on Ralph’s arm, and once I found the one I added, covering the sloppy piece there before, I fixed it without blinking.
“Sometimes I wonder if meeting Lydia wasn’t the biggest mistake of my life.’’
“As long as you’re not sure, then there’s still room to let her convince you it was a good call.’’ He knelt in front of the desk and put his head right where I couldn’t miss it. “Wyatt also asked me to tell you he wouldn’t get in the way this time.’’
“Do you believe him?’’
He shrugged and tapped the tip of my nose with a smile. “He’s a difficult one and unpredictable when scared so… I believe that he was truthful when he said it. You’re the wild card in this scenario, sweetheart.’’
“I’m not doing anything.’’
“You exist. That’s enough in his world.’’ He straightened up then and waved at Kam. “Alright, I better go before my father gets on my ass for bailing on painting my aunt’s house. Again.’’ He mock-cringed and left with another wave, this time for me.
Once again, I was left in an emotional jumble because of Wyatt. He didn’t need to show his face to leave an impact in my life.