Chapter 21
Brandon
The playful smirk Mary had on her face shifts to something different, something dark . . . somber.
Her head shakes before any words come out, her eyes filling with tears. “No.”
“Mary?” I wrap my arm around her, but she shrugs me off. Dismisses me.
“You can’t do this to me. You can’t ask me to accept this.” Her shaky hand gestures toward the shiny new white Jeep with a red bow. “No.”
The first night I found her in the hotel suddenly flashes in the back of my eyes. Her backing away from me, telling me no, crying. Fuck. She’s cried more in the short time we’ve been back together than she did during our entire childhood. I must be doing something wrong if my girlfriend cries when I buy her a car.
“You don’t like it?” I lower my voice, trying to calm her down because, as each second ticks by, her body becomes even tighter.
“No,” she says again. This time she turns to me and has fresh tears in her eyes. “I can’t. You can’t. Just no, Brandon.”
“Babe, your car is shit. You needed a new one. Simple as that.” I turn her body, grasp her face in my hands, and rub her eyes to remove the wetness gathering there. The simple tell that Mary is about to come undone—and not in the way that turns me on but rather in the way that tears me apart. The girl I grew up with, the one who didn’t cry when she sliced her leg on the sharp rock at the lake. She even fought back tears when I accidentally pegged her in the shoulder with a fastball when she was fifteen. That girl is gone and replaced with the vulnerable woman in front of me, confused and scared. It breaks my fucking heart. “You deserve this, Mary. Stop over thinking.”
Her lids close and a couple more silent tears drip down her face. She tries to pull away, but I don’t let her.
“Talk to me,” I beg.
“How did you know?”
“That this is your dream ride?”
Yeah, she mouths.
“I always knew.”
“No, I never told anybody.”
She relaxes under my touch, and the tension twisting in my body slowly starts to unravel. It’s not about the car itself; it’s about what it means and how I knew this was her dream car. It’s what she always wanted but never thought she’d have.
“You didn’t have to tell me.”
She shakes her head slightly, smiling. “How did you know?”
“Well, if the fact that whenever you saw one you drooled wasn’t a clue, the fact that you had a picture from a magazine hidden in your drawer was. And,” I cut off her attempt at a protest with a chaste kiss, “you told me once.”
“No way,” she laughs. “I never told anybody.”
“Ahh, but baby, I’m not just anybody.”
She brings her hands up to where mine are still framing her face, and grabs onto my wrists. “You most certainly are not. You’re everything, Brandon.” She leans into me and rests her hands on my shoulders, leaning up to press her lips to my jaw. “It’s too much, though. I can’t accept it.”
“You will,” I tell her simply. This is something I’ve wanted to do since the second I saw what she was driving. It was old and falling apart. I’m surprised it even passed emissions. I knew she wouldn’t accept the Jeep at first; I get that she needed the time to gain her independence back after being with me. But she has that now. Taking the college class, making friends.
“I have money. I can pay—”
“Absolutely not. It’s a gift.”
“It’s a Jeep!” she yells and tosses her hands in the air before she turns and points at it, steady this time. “Not a freaking pair of earrings.”
I shrug. “Happy Birthday.”
“Brandon.” She sighs and runs her fingers through her hair, then twists it into a ponytail using the elastic around her wrist. “Hey. When did I tell you? You said I told you, but I know damn well that I kept that a secret.”
“You don’t remember?”
“No.”
“That party I had. Remember, the infamous beer bottle cap party?”
She laughs. “Yeah. I remember that.”
“That night. You told me then.”
“Oh, God. The one time I was drunk.” Her eyes widen and she gasps. “What else did I tell you?”
“Nothing.” I look away from her and immediately realize my mistake. I try to find her eyes again quickly, but she’s already squinting at me with her hand on her hip.
“What else did I tell you that night?”
“Wanna see the inside of the car?” I pull the keys out of my pocket and use the fob to unlock the doors. Not sure how she’ll react to the confessions she made that night, I want to avoid this conversation.
“Uh-nuh. You’re trying to lie to me right now? On my birthday?” She emphasizes the word, being overly dramatic.
“You sure you want to know this?”
“Yes,” she says immediately.
“You told me . . . you sure? I mean, it was a long time ago and—”
“Tell me!”
I rub my chin and look her in the eyes. “You said you were in love with me, wanted to marry me, and have my babies. Told me you wanted me to be your first. Cried because you said I didn’t love you back.”
“What?” She gasps, face becoming flush. “I never . . . no way.”
“Yeah. You did.”
She leans against her new car. First time touching it, and she’s using it for support. Fucking great. Apparently, she doesn’t deal well with surprises. This is not how I pictured this going.
“But ya know what? I’m glad you did. Because I was having all these feelings toward you, and I thought you saw me as your brother. Then I’d see you look at me like you wanted to eat me, and I was confused as hell. I know Dad said I couldn’t date you, but after your confession, it was torture not to touch you. Kiss you. Tell you how fucking in love with you I was.” I step closer to her and put my fingers in the front pocket of her jeans. “How I wanted to marry you, too. Have kids with you. I tried to be good. Respect Dad’s wishes. But that was why I kissed you on our seventeenth birthday. I couldn’t fucking take it anymore. ”
“I don’t remember telling you that.” She pushes off the Jeep and tries to separate herself from me, but I don’t let her.
“And about one year after that first kiss, I had plans. So many fucking plans. I knew it would be hard. I was gonna go to college, but with the knowledge you were mine. And I was yours. We’d visit each other as much as we could. I was finally going to have you. The things I was going to say to you were fucking carved into my mind. I rehearsed them. Literally said the words out loud.”
She laughs at that right along with me.
“Then you were gone. And I wondered every single fucking day if I had told you how deeply in love with you I was, would you have stayed.”
“Don’t you even try to put the blame on yourself for me being an idiot.”
“Would it have?” I ask the question that’s been eating away at me. The one that I beat myself up over.
She steps away from me, and this time I let her. I track her pacing back and forth, never once looking at the car, because that’s her. She’s not materialistic. Doesn’t care about the fact that she has her brand new dream car a couple of feet away. All that’s important is this conversation. Me.
“Would you have stayed?”
“No,” she deadpans and grabs my shirt, giving a little shake. “No. I wouldn’t have. Because when I left, it was to protect you. And knowing you felt the same way as me would have only made me want to protect you—”
“Stop saying that!” I yell, and her hands fall from my chest. “You don’t protect me, Mary. I protect you.” I stab myself in the center of my chest with the tips of my fingers to emphasize my point. “Me. I’m supposed to protect you!” And I didn’t. The unspoken words hang between us, my guilt outweighing hers.
She steps back, and we just stare at each other. Silence fills the air.
“I’m sorry,” she finally says. “I’m so fucking sorry, Brandon.” Her voice cracks, but she swallows and fights off the tears that I’m sure want to fall. So stubborn. “I can’t apologize anymore. If you’re going to hold this over my head for the rest of our relationship, maybe I should just leave then.”
“You trying to piss me off?”
“No, I’m not. I’m trying to be honest with you.”
“Honest? You’re being honest? You think for a fucking second that I’d let you walk away from me? You try it and watch how far you get, ‘cause I guaran-damn-tee you that I’ll have you back before you can say Brandon.”
“Brand—”
I have my mouth on hers after the first syllable. Her hands fist my hair and I lift her by her ass then set her on the hood of her car. She wraps her ankles around my waist and pulls me close, rubbing her heat against me. My dick, my thighs, my hips. Anything she can get her pussy on.
I pull back because if I don’t stop, I’ll fuck her right here.
She catches her breath and rubs a hand down my face. “I shouldn’t have left. It’s a little too late to apologize, but I do. I’m so sorry.” Her smile reflects off the streetlight and she hitches her thumb at the Jeep. “I love it. Thank you. But I’m still mad at you for spending all this money. I’ll pay you back.”
Relief floods me knowing that we can move on from this ridiculous conversation. Maybe I needed to have it for myself, but regardless, I’m glad it’s over.
“You loving me is all the payment I need.”
Mary
Brandon has another late shift, so I decide to drive up to see Charlotte and the baby. Travis isn’t home; he has a night shift at the fire station, so it’s just us. I cuddle with the baby. She’s so precious. Makes me want to have one of my own.
My motherly skills would be lacking. Brandon would make a great father, though. He’s so kind, loving, and protective. Our baby would be in the best possible position to learn what it’s like to be loved.
Whoa. We’re not even married yet; where is this coming from? And marriage. We’re just dating. Of course, I want to marry him, but we’ve only lived together for a short time.
Caroline begins to cry, pulling me out of my thoughts. I pass her off to Char so she can feed her. Once the baby falls asleep, Charlotte puts her in the crib and comes back, setting the monitor on the end table.
We catch up with the monotonous things. I fill her in on what’s happened with Kelsey and she tells me that she’s pregnant again. Just blurts it out like she’s talking about the weather. Of course, I’m excited so I give her a huge hug and tell her to tell Travis congrats.
“What did he say?”
“He stood there for a minute, shocked. Then he smiled and ran to me.”
“Yeah? Then what?”
Her face gets a pink glow and she smiles. “Then we celebrated and he was late for work.”
“Mmmhmm. I bet you did.” I finish my glass of wine, and she offers me more.
“Nah, I’m good. Thanks, though.”
My phone rings, and I glance at it then push silent. I’m still irritated with Brandon for not allowing me to help him pay for my car. I like messing with him, so I ignore his calls, making sure to push silent so he knows I’m ignoring him on purpose. Then he’ll send me a naughty text and tell me how he’s going to punish me for ignoring him. Of course, he never actually hurts me. It’s a fun game and one that I like losing.
“Who was that?”
“Guess?”
“Why don’t you talk to him?”
“Because he’s an asshole.” He’s not, but I hope she tells Travis I said that. Then I hope he tells Brandon. He’s fun to piss off.
Her brows furrow, and I can tell she’s trying to figure it out. I should feel bad for using her as a pawn in this new game I’m playing.
“He’s not and you know it.”
“I know.” I’m about to tell her I’m messing with her but my phone chimes, and I open a text from Brandon. I hide my laughter and decide to up the ante. “But it just won’t work out.”
“One of these days you’re going to have to tell me what happened between you two.”
“I know.” She’s right. It’s not fair of me, but I feel like when she finds out, she’ll look at me differently. I don’t want her to see me as weak. Call me a terrible human being, but I like that I kind of saved her. It’s nice having someone look up to me. “Listen, I’ve gotta go.”
She walks me to the door and we say our goodbyes then I sit in my car, laughing at Brandon’s previous text.
Ignoring me again?
I’m beginning to think you enjoy pissing me off . . .
Or enjoy getting punished.
I type out my text, send it, and toss my cell in the cup holder.
I’m sorry. Did I miss your call?
My kick-ass ride makes the trip back so much fun. It’s been a couple of weeks and I still can’t believe it’s mine. There are a lot of things I can’t believe. Like the fact that I consider the apartment ours. That since our birthday, things have been amazingly perfect. I attend class twice a week, and with the help of my academic counselor, I have decided to pursue a degree in teaching.
I always wanted to be a teacher. Brandon encourages the crap out of it. He supports my decision a hundred and fifty percent. And I am only thirty-one years old. That’s not old. I don’t know where I got the perception that my life was over. I have so much time left in this life. For some reason, if it is taken from me, I want to know I won’t have more regrets.
I feel like, with Brandon, I’m back to my old self. Our relationship is back to the way it used to be . . . with the exception of mind-blowing sex. It’s not just sex, though. It’s emotional, a connection that has been missing for way too many years.
The dinners we’ve had with his parents have been wonderful.
But with his parents, it’s not quite to the point where it’s back to normal. I just turned up after a dozen years out of the blue, and the tension from that lingers. I still feel nervous and self-conscious around them, not carefree and part of the family like I used to. I have confidence it will get there, but it’s just taking some time.
I arrive home and check my phone. Hmm. Nothing. I thought he would have said something back. He probably got busy at work. The amount of hours he works is insane.
The scent of sweet peas still lingers when I step into the apartment, even though I threw all the flowers out earlier this week.
Kat rubs against my leg, and I lean down to pet her. “Hey, girl. You hungry?”
I reach for her food in the cupboard when a warm hand slides around my waist and another covers my mouth.
I jump a bit, and normally I’d freak out, but without a text back from Brandon, I figure this is my payback. He thinks he’s funny to try to scare me all the damn time. Jumping out from behind a door. Ripping the shower curtain open. I got him back by throwing ice water on him while he was in the shower, so it’s all good.
Under his hand, I laugh and attempt to wiggle free, but he grips me tighter, painful. “Ow. You’re seriously hurting me.” My words come out muffled, but I know he’ll understand me.
As if it were possible, the pain increases, and I start to panic, wondering why he’s acting like this. I fight to get away to no avail. This isn’t funny, I try to tell him, but the hot breath in my ear sends chills down my spine. Breath that smells of smoke, not mint. That’s when it hits me. This isn’t Brandon.
“Where’s my money, bitch?”
Now I fight. I kick, bite, and scratch. My voice is hoarse from attempting to scream. I can hardly breathe through my nose.
“Shut the fuck up.” He hisses against my cheek. His scruffy beard scrapes against my face.
Cold metal presses against my temple, and I freeze. No. No. This isn’t happening. Tears brim my eyes and my knees weaken.
“Where’s my fuckin’ money?” Each word drips with irritation and disgust, a clear sign he’s serious as hell.
I don’t know what you’re talking about. I shake my head and try to tell him, but he still has his disgusting hand covering my mouth and I can’t speak.
“Don’t fuck with me. He said you have it. I need my money. I’m going to take my hand off your mouth. If you scream, I’ll shoot you.”
Oh God. Oh God.
“Nod if you understand.”
As much as I can move under the intense pressure, I nod in agreement.
He tests me and slowly takes his hand off. I suck in a gulp of fresh air and scream at the top of my lungs. Fucker can shoot me if he wants, but I’m not going out without a fight. And he wants his money, so I doubt he’d kill me until he got that. So until he realizes I don’t have anything for him, I have to fight.
I kick back and hit something. Enough to turn and run. But I’m not fast enough. He grabs me by my ponytail and slams me to the ground. I land on my cheek and scream again. This time from the pain slicing through my face.
He crouches down and squeezes my chin. His fingers pinch so tight, I can feel them touching my teeth. “Don’t be stupid, Kelsey. Give me the fucking money and I’ll be on my way.”
I whip my head up to him and black stars float around in my head. “I’m not Kelsey,” I choke out between my sobs and the vomit sitting in my throat.
He uses his other hand to slap me across the face, bruising my other cheek. I cry out again, but he grips under my arms and slams my back against the fridge.
“Where’s. My. Money?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not Kelsey. Nobody named Kelsey lives here.”
“Don’t lie to me, bitch. I followed you here. Now I want the fuckin’ money.” He shakes me against the fridge again.
A knock on the door shocks me, and I take a breath to scream, but he slams his hand over my mouth. I sob into it, praying whoever is on the other side can hear me.
“Mary? Are you okay? I thought I heard you scream.”
Kelsey. God, no. Run. I use the distraction to my advantage and knee him in the balls. He grunts, but it only fuels his fire. He squeezes me even harder and whispers between clenched teeth, “Wrong move, cunt.”
“Mary? It’s Kelsey. Are you in there?”
His eyes light up and I try to scream through all the fear and the pain. Try to fight. My entire body is becoming numb, my vision blurry, but I try. Men like him don’t give up. Since I’m in the middle of this now, I’ll probably end up dead. But I refuse to stop fighting. Somebody saved me from a crazy man . . . actually, twice. Karma has paid a visit, and now it’s my turn to be the strong one, the calm one. I’ll save Kelsey. It’ll be my redemption.
He senses my next move because he slams my head against the fridge then puts me in front of him and holds the gun to my head again.
When he swings the door open, Kelsey gasps.
“Move or scream and I’ll shoot her in the head.” He quickly scans the empty hallway.
Kelsey freezes and nods.
“Where’s my money?” he asks. I can’t see him, but I’m assuming he’s asking Kelsey.
“How much?” she asks.
“Three grand.”
She swallows, eyes trained on mine. Sympathy and guilt are written all over her face. “I don’t have that much.”
“Chad told me you did.”
“Well, Chad is a lying, alcoholic, gambling piece of shit,” she snaps. “Let her be and go ask him for your goddamned money.”
“No can do. He skipped town.”
“Please let her go. She has nothing to do with this. I have about half that.”
He grunts. “That’s a start.”
“Let her go and I’ll give it to you.”
“No way. Where is it?”
“Let her go and I’ll tell you.”
He pulls me tighter and presses the cold metal into my head even harder. I wince and my breath catches from the pain. I plead with her with my eyes to do what he says.
She gives me a slight tilt of her lips, encouraging me. “Okay, okay. Follow me.”
He pulls my apartment door shut and follows Kelsey inside hers, slamming her door shut as well. I pray that somebody saw what was going on. There are two apartments across from ours. Somebody has to have seen.
“Where is it?” he asks.
I still am in a vise grip, and my body is becoming weaker as the seconds go by. I’ve never had a concussion before, but I imagine this is what it feels like. Nauseated, dizzy, throbbing. My eyelids ache from me forcing them to stay open.
“Let. Her. Go. If you want any of my money, you’ll let her go.”
He pushes me so fast that I fall to my knees. The impact has me wincing in pain again.
“You’ve got five seconds.”
I start to crawl away, but his booted foot kicks me in my ass and I stumble. “Stay right where you are.”
Fuck, I’m so weak that I don’t know if I can even fight anymore.
Kelsey looks at me and then back at the man. She runs to a room, and returns with an envelope and tosses it at him, placing herself in front of me. “That’s all I have. Now get the fuck out of here.”
He raises his gun, and I scream. But instead of shooting her, he coldcocks her with the handle. Her body falls, and somehow I’m able to catch her head before it hits the ground.
“Bitch,” he mutters.
I shake her, but nothing. She’s like a doll. The cut on her head is bleeding, and I look up at him. Cold, hard, almost black eyes stare back at me. I beg him to leave us be. Let me get her help. I can hardly focus on his face anymore, but the sleazy tilt of his lips makes me gag.
He slowly takes the couple of steps until he’s in front of us then squats down. “I only got half of what I was owed. Any idea how I can get the rest. Hmm?”