Andre

 

I don’t understand. Kristel seemed fine in the car on the way here, almost like her normal self. Now, though, I almost feel like the enemy. My arms fold across my chest, and I stare at her across the room. What do I do? How do I comfort her? I glance back toward the door we came through, and I hear the sounds of my crew as they chatter away with excitement. Everything went down without a hitch, and they should be excited. I don’t share the same feeling, though. As I turn back to look at Kristel, my heart drops in my chest.

 

Of course.

 

I know what it feels like to lose a parent. I’ve suffered the same loss, and regardless of the fact that Bryce was an enemy to me, he was a parent to Kristel. My eyes lower briefly to the floor, and I draw in a shallow breath. Memories of my mother flash through my mind, and I pinch the bridge of my nose to stop them; they don’t stop, though. They just keep coming:

 

“Andre, can you pass me the cake mix?”

 

“Okay, Mom.” I stand on the tips of my toes and pull the chocolate vanilla cake mix off the counter. Filled with excitement, I trot over to her and hand her the box. “Will there be chocolate chips in it like last time?”

 

“Oh, I’m sorry, sweetie. We don’t have chocolate chips, but the cake mix has chocolate in it.”

 

“But I want them. Can’t you or Dad go get some?”

 

She turns away from the counter and crouches down to look at me. Her warm hands grip my shoulders, and she gives me a sad smile. “Not today, Andre. The next time we make cake together, though, I’ll make sure there are chocolate chips for it. Okay?”

 

“Okay…”

 

Her hand strokes through my hair. “I may have something even better than chocolate chips all melted in warm cake. Follow me.”

 

As she moves away from the kitchen and into the living room, I follow her. I still feel sad about the lack of chocolate chips, but I don’t bring it up again. There’s not really any time to as I freeze at the entrance into the living room.

 

There, draped across the back of the couch, is a bearskin rug. It’s the biggest one I’ve ever seen, and mom has brought home a lot over the years. I’m only five years old, but I can remember all the ones I’ve seen, and none of them were ever this large. Its fur is deep brown and long, and I have to touch it. My hands stretch toward it as I walk over to the couch, and my eyes widen when I sink my hands deep into the fur.

 

“Whoa…”

 

My mother smiles and crouches next to me. “It’s yours. Happy Birthday, Andre.”

 

“Happy Birthday, Andre,” I murmur under my breath. Those words and that voice are two things I won’t ever forget. My mother wasn’t in my life for very long, but Kristel’s father has been in her life until mere hours ago. I don’t know whether to feel afraid that she’ll want to go home or relieved that she truly feels something. In my life, feeling anything has only served to cause trouble. Loving Kristel, though, has made me stronger; I truly believe that.

 

“Kristel.” I draw in another breath and walk toward her. Aggression has always served me well in the past, and I know how to use it in any given situation. This kind of thing, though, has me at a loss. It’s not something I can beat up or throw money at. “Kristel, please don’t push me away.”

 

She looks at me, her arms folded across her chest. Her eyes glisten with tears, but I have no quips or snide remarks. Right now, I can understand her pain even though mine is no longer fresh.

 

“I know how this feels.” Before she can say anything, I hold up my hands. “I do. My mother died when I was a boy, remember? I didn’t see it happen, but I was there. When Dad told me she was dead, it broke me. And that bearskin rug at my place? She gave that to me for my birthday. That’s the first time I felt a real connection with you, on that rug. Remember?” I shake my head. “You have to believe me when I say that I understand, okay? And fuck… it hurts like hell. It feels like half your world has been crushed under someone else’s boot and you have no idea how to get back up again. I still feel that way even now. So trust me when I say… I’m here for you. You’ve got to believe me. But if you want to be pissed at someone, be pissed at me. Don’t be pissed at Debbie or Grant or any of them. I’m the one who put this all in motion.”

 

“I am pissed!” She takes a step closer to me and shoves my chest. “You got caught, Andre! You were never supposed to get caught. This all started, because you were an asshole and provoked my dad! After that all he wanted was to get back at you. He never said it, but I knew my dad. He was out every night. He worked double shifts. He was barely even home. Mom and I worried over him every night, because he never called to say he’d be late. When he had days off, guess what he was doing? Yeah, asshole. Looking for you!” She angrily wipes tears from her face. “And then, when I found out he finally had you, it was like the end of the world. How could you have been so stupid as to get caught? Why did you trust Will? Grant told me he fucked you over. What’s wrong with you?”

 

My heart thunders in my ears. It’s all I can hear at this point aside from Kristel’s yelling, but my heart breaks for her. Most people who know me say I don’t have much of a heart, but I like to think that Grant and Kristel know differently.

 

Words don’t seem to be getting through to her, so I take her face in my hands and kiss her. She shoves at me again, and I can taste her tears as they fall down her face to her lips. My hands grip her own, and I press closer, my feet shoulder-length apart. Each time she pushes at me, I brace so she can’t move me away. I do give her the option to put distance between us, but she doesn’t step away from me, either. Not this time.

 

Over and over I kiss her lips and her cheeks and her forehead. I’ve never see her cry this hard before, and I’m still at a loss of what to do other than hold onto her. “I’m here, Kristel. I know things are fucked up right now, but I’m here.”

 

“Everything is so fucked up,” she whispers. “My life… my dad dying… you. I didn’t even really like my dad. He was pushy and arrogant and overprotective. And locking me in that room, yelling at me. I felt like I was 12 years old again. I hated him so much that I wanted him to die. But I don’t think I actually did hate him. Not really.” Her head tilts as she looks up at me. “And I know I blamed you for everything, but to be honest I have no idea where the blame should fall… if it should at all. So much has happened between the pregnancy and the…” She shakes her head and waves her hands around. It looks like an effort to describe chaos without using any words.

 

“Kristel…” I hold her face and press my forehead to her own. “It’s okay to vent. And cry. Blame whoever you want to, but we both know this is my fault. Straight from the beginning. If I hadn’t of come after you at the club….” I shrug.

 

Her bottom lip trembles, and she draws in deep, shaky lungfuls of air. “Maybe, but I’m tired of yelling and crying and pinning blame on everyone. What I’d really like to know right now is what happened with Will.”

 

A frown touches my mouth. “You know.”

 

“No. I mean, why did he turn on you?”

 

That question hurts in more ways than I can express, and all I can do is roll my shoulders back in a shrug. “I don’t know. I also don’t know when he started ratting me out to the cops, because I sure as hell don’t think it’s new. Morris… the book fuck ups… everything. I think it was him, but I don’t have proof. It’s all I can think of, though, because things used to run as smooth as a baby’s bum.”

 

“He was so funny. So eager to teach me. He was always pushing me to do better, to run faster, to be stronger. It doesn’t make sense.”

 

I nod and give her a faint smile. “He was always that way with me, too. And so fucking loyal.” My hands take hers, and I pull her slowly down onto the floor next to me. “I really am sorry for everything that happened.”

 

She gives me a smile, one marred by her tears, and shrugs. “Yeah, I know. Even if it is freaking me out.”

 

“It’s freaking me out, too, but it is what it is.” I rest my forehead against hers and look at her face. “You’re going to be okay, Kristel. You know you’re part of this family, and since Will’s betrayal, we’re tighter than ever. Which means I have a question I’d like to ask you. The timing is shit, but whatever.”

 

Her smile grows, but she looks apprehensive. “If you’re going to ask me not to kill Debbie, don’t worry. I won’t. I might beat the shit out of her, though.”

 

“There she is. The sass is back.” I kiss along her jaw and over to her ear. Her hands slide through my hair, and I sigh in relief at the sound of her breaths. She is much calmer now, though I know Kristel. It will likely take her a while to fully process everything that happened today. I only add one more thing because I need Kristel, and I need our baby. What happened today only solidifies that fact.

 

I need to do it. I need to ask her.

 

“Kristel… will you marry me?”