I CRUNCH THROUGH THE TWIGS and pinecones that litter the soft ground. June in River’s Edge means the snow has finally melted, giving way to lush greenery. Lo sent me a text telling me to meet her at my spot. Don’t ask me what the fuck she’s doing in the middle of the woods at dusk.
It’s been seven months since Lo came to River’s Edge and fucked my world up, in the best possible way. Five since the night all my sins came to light. Eric went to jail for a whole five seconds, much to my dismay, but when he returned home, the police were waiting for him. Surprisingly, his wife actually did get help like he told Lo, but his wife had also concocted a plan. Turns out, Eric had a history of hurting women, his wife being his primary victim. She set up a video camera, documented a couple of months’ worth of abuse, and filed for emergency custody. Rumor has it, she and Cayden moved away to start somewhere fresh. Meanwhile, Eric won’t be getting out of prison any time soon.
It isn’t always easy. There are still days when I’m convinced I’m going to hell for what I did, but that’s okay, because Lo brings heaven to me when I get to come home to her, to sink inside her, every single night.
When I finally get to the clearing between the pine trees, I see her standing there, looking nervous as hell. Cut-off jeans so short that they show off a hint of the ink I gave her, her favorite shirt—a baggy D.A.R.E. shirt she found at Goodwill—dirty white tennis shoes, and wild hair in a high ponytail. She twists her hands together, teeth caught between her bottom lip.
“What’s all this, Sally?”
There’s a large wooden crate on top of a blanket and a bunch of throw pillows tossed around. Lanterns hang overhead from a line between two trees, and she has a spread of food and candles on top of the crate.
“Happy birthday,” she says, sounding unsure, her big eyes waiting for my reaction.
“Why do you look so nervous?” I ask, walking toward her. Her shoulders sag, and she rolls her eyes at me.
“Because you hate surprises.”
As a rule, I do hate surprises, but this one I can make an exception for. I chuckle, wrapping an arm around her. She jumps up, her legs circling my waist, both hands on either side of my face. “I love you,” she says before she slips her tongue between my lips. I groan, turning to prop her up against a tree as my hands find her ass. I’ll never get tired of hearing her say those words. I kiss her back, already hard for her. I grind into her heat, and she moans, fingers clutching the back of my neck. I slide a hand to the front of her shorts before slipping a finger inside. She lets me play with her pussy for a minute before pulling away, breathless.
“The food is getting cold,” she breathes, face flushed.
“Fuck the food. I’m craving this,” I say, flexing my hips into her.
“Later,” she insists, straightening her legs and breaking out of my hold. “I worked hard on this.”
“It’s perfect.” And it is. The two things that bring me peace—my spot and my girl.
Lo takes my hand, tugging me toward the piles of pillows and blankets. She brought takeout from my favorite Italian place and cherry danishes for dessert. Lo is tense and quiet through our meal, still appearing nervous. I don’t know what the fuck to make of it, so I ask.
“What else is going on, Lo?”
“I have one more surprise for you,” she admits, seeming almost scared of my reaction.
“What is it?” The way she’s acting has my gut twisting with dread. Lo doesn’t get shy or nervous. What could possibly have her all twisted up? She pulls out her phone, tapping at her screen for a minute before putting it away.
“Five more minutes,” she says cryptically, before crawling across the pillows, coming to sit on my lap, linking her ankles behind my back. “Just remember I love you,” she says. I dip my head, pressing my nose into her neck, unable to resist inhaling her scent and her warmth.
“Dare,” Lo whispers right as I hear footsteps behind me. I tense up, and Lo rubs my back, as if taming a scared animal—which I guess would accurately describe me at this moment. Lo unlatches her legs and stands. I follow her lead and turn around to face whoever it is. Lo tucks her small hand into mine as I look at him, trying to place his familiar face.
“Stefan,” says the deep voice belonging to the man standing across from me in a police uniform. The corners of his eyes crinkle when he smiles at me. “You probably don’t remember me. I’m Officer Davies. The officer who found you.”
As soon as the words are out of his mouth, I’m flooded by memories I didn’t even know I had. Drawing on a notepad in the front seat of his police car, him taking off his jacket and wrapping it around me. Then later, sitting on his lap at the police station as I ate his trail mix, not wanting to separate from the first person to show me kindness in my whole life.
So many emotions slam into me at once, and for a minute, I’m that dirty, neglected four-year-old again. I remember sitting on the cement parking block, feeling cold and hungry and confused. I was trying to stay warm in my Ninja Turtles jacket when a bright light blinded me. Seconds later, Officer Davies came into view, bending over to pick me up.
“I’ve got you, buddy,” he said over and over as he held me, probably more scared than I was.
Letting go of Lo’s hand, I pinch the bridge of my nose, ducking my head, not wanting to give in to the urge to do something stupid like shed a tear. I hear Officer Davies move closer, and then he’s wrapping his arms around me for the second time in twenty-three years. He gives me the man-clap on my back, and when I look up, his eyes are shining with unshed tears.
“I never got to thank you,” I say, my voice thick with emotion before I clear my throat.
“No thanks needed. I’m just glad your girl tracked me down. Throughout my entire career, I’ve wondered where you ended up.”
“You did this?” I ask Lo, who has tears streaming freely down her cheeks. She nods.
“I looked you up. Of course, it didn’t say your name, but I had enough details to find an old article about you. I thought you might like to meet him.”
I hear what she’s not saying. She knows I have no desire to find my mother, so she did the one other thing that could bring me a piece of my past without involving the person who abandoned me. I have so much fucking love for this girl. I hook an arm around the back of her neck, pulling her close and pressing my lips to her forehead. She smiles up at me, and I know she feels the gratitude I can’t put into words.
“I brought these for you,” Officer Davies says, holding out an envelope. I hesitate, not sure I can handle any more of the past. When I take it, I find drawings of stick figures scribbled in pencil. They look as if a kid much younger than four drew them.
“You saved these?” I ask, and he nods. “I think you were the first person to put a pencil in my hand.”
“He’s an artist,” Lo supplies.
“A tattoo artist,” I correct. She gives me too much credit.
“I’ll go ahead and take credit for that then,” Davies says with a chuckle. “I have one you drew for me at home, too.”
I notice a couple of photos behind the drawings, and I look at the pictures of my younger self with detached eyes. There’s one of him holding me in the parking lot, my head on his shoulder and his radio to his mouth. Another of me in a hospital bed—I assume getting checked out after Davies rescued me from freezing temperatures. Another one of me sitting at his desk, a dazed look in my eyes. In every photo, he’s next to me, or in the background. He didn’t leave me once.
I pluck out a picture of me, after a bath by the looks of it. My hair was lighter. It’s strange to see this kid and know it’s me. I’ve never known what I looked like as a child—never thought it was something that mattered, though I did wonder occasionally. It seems like something so…unimportant, but I finally feel like I have some sort of closure. A part of me that I didn’t realize I had been missing. Kind of like how I feel about Lo.
“I’ll let you get back to your birthday,” he says before turning to Lo. “Thanks for making contact, Logan. You’ve made a two-decade-long wish come true.”
Logan peels herself away from me, hugging him around the neck. I hear her thank him softly, but I can’t make out the exact words. He gives her a solemn nod, then turns to leave.
“Have I told you how much I love you, crazy girl?” I say, tugging her back toward me by her belt loop.
“I wouldn’t mind hearing it again.” She smiles, linking her fingers behind my head before kissing the column of my neck. We’re interrupted when we hear Davies approaching again.
“I almost forgot. I don’t know where your other stuff ended up, but I was able to save this.”
He tosses me a dark, wadded-up ball of fabric. I untwist the t-shirt, revealing the last thing I thought I’d see. Lo’s eyes shoot up to mine, equal parts amusement and awe swirling in them before she tips her head back, letting out a laugh.
“Jack Skellington.”
THE END