Data…

“Don’t do this to yourself,” I said softly when we were safely shut into our motel room. Disney was sharing the other bed, but he was giving us some privacy, smoking a joint out front. She sighed out and looked up, her expression bleak and I knew exactly what she was up to. Blaming herself, taking it all on her shoulders and bearing the brunt of everyone’s pain with a heaping side of guilt.

It was something that was quintessentially Mali. I just didn’t think it was something she could turn off. I dropped onto the end of the bed beside her and she looked over at me and just sort of keeled over, resting her head on my shoulder. She sniffed, and I let out a breath I hadn’t known I’d been holding. I’d rolled the dice. She could have flown off the handle at me, vented some of that rage at herself and maybe some of the pain she was feeling. She was always super sensitive about hurting other people. Hated it, but sometimes, like now, it couldn’t be helped.

I put my arms around her and just held her while her eyes leaked and she shuddered silently against me. I didn’t know how she could do that, sob without making a sound, but when she did, I could tell just how much she was hurting. The crying jag in Ft. Royal was her angry crying. When she wept with no sound, she grieved.

“Who we mourning, baby.”

“I don’t know,” she said, her voice feeble and water logged, “Lexi, I guess.”

I could see it. I nodded and held her tighter, kissing her hair, breathing her in, saying the only words of comfort I could for this impossible situation, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, it’s stupid…”

“It’s not stupid,” I rejected the notion out of hand. “You built a life as her, relationships, and that’s a pretty powerful thing.”

“But I wasn’t her, it was all a lie,” she argued pathetically.

“May have been a lie, but you definitely were her. I wish I could make this one better.”

“You do, I’m just… I’m just scared. I don’t want to hurt you, or anyone, like that again.” Then she said the words that send my insides heaving, “I totally didn’t expect you to show up. I thought I was as good as dead when I posted that message.”

It hit me, like a stone dropped into a well, a leaden rock of reality disturbing the surface of my neat little pond I had constructed in my mind. I choked it down and sucked in a deep breath, letting nothing show on the outside how deeply and awfully her confession affected me.

“Not on my watch,” I chided gently and then I held her close and closer because I really didn’t want to have to imagine a world without Amalia in it.

I hadn’t realized she’d lost hope that hard, had never in a million years entertained the idea that my proud, brave, strong, woman would ever contemplate giving up. Shit, it fucking rattled me to my core. Scared me like no other, and made me feel helpless that it’d been that close. A near thing… but not on my watch. I’d swooped in and saved the day, but fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck… at the last fucking second!

“I don’t know what I would do without you,” she said tearfully and looked up at me.

I pursed my lips and searched her beautiful face and committed as hard as I had ever committed to her before when I said, “You don’t ever have to find out.”

She threw her arms around me and I held her back and realized that for as strong as Mali was, she indeed had a breaking point and we were fucking at it. I needed to take her home.

* * *

She was somber and somehow less the whole ride back. One word answers or noncommittal grunts were about all she could muster to the rest of the guys. Disney had helped by giving her a joint and standing outside the room with her as she smoked it. I watched them talk softly and a new friendship was tentatively born. Out of all my brothers, Disney knew a thing or two about hiding who he was.

We didn’t sleep well. I think both of us were thinking too much, but neither one of us were really in a place to talk about it. At least not yet. I was still reeling from her admission. I knew she harbored a darkness in her. I think all of us did; me included. It was a very different animal all together knowing that she had thought about it. That it had been more than a mere moment of what Dani called ‘L’appel du vide.’ Those little self-destructive, fatalistic thoughts we all held inside of ourselves. Like standing on the edge of a cliff taking pictures and suddenly thinking that you could just take that one last step and it would be over and the thought of that is appealing… Even though you know you would never do it.

What had led my beautiful, strong, brave, Amalia Rose into such a line of thinking looking at that blinking cursor on that thread? I wanted to know. What made her actually type the message? What made her click send, thinking it would bring almost certain death upon her and what made her okay with that?

The stark reality that I could have lost her, were I not as good as I was at what I did, well, it gnawed at me, chewed me down to the raw, bloody, bone. When did things get so bad for her that she decided to answer l’appel du vide, which literally translates to ‘the call of the void’?

I shuddered, thinking back to the conversation that Dani and I had had that late night when she had left Thirteen sleeping and had come out to the bar. She’d been having nightmares again but hadn’t wanted to wake him. I had been up at my systems doing work for a client. She’d poured a generous measure of alcohol and had sat watching me and we’d talked… and it was one of those rare moments I had felt Amalia with me because the feeling had been eerily the same. Dani, confiding in me, while I’d listened and just been there. It’d been so starkly reminiscent of the times with Mali under our tree, I could almost hear the distant rustle of the breeze through the leaves.

I split off from my brothers when we reached the town. They looked up and over at my unexpected change of plans, but I gave Trig the hand signal for ‘home’ and he raised a hand, giving me the okay. Mali perked up a bit when I made the turn and settled in again against my back, but I could feel her damn near vibrate behind me in counterpoint to the bike. She didn’t know what was up and I could feel her tension over it. Still, she didn’t shout any questions or make any demands as to our destination, choosing to trust me, and for as tense as she was, the fact that she trusted me, even now, to do right by her, made me relax.

When we turned onto my street, she jumped slightly. A lot had changed in the neighborhood over the years, so I figured between that and the deepening twilight, she didn’t readily recognize some things. When we got to the house she’d gone very still. I turned us into the driveway, the garage trundling open. The doors were new, automated, and something I had put in. There was a sensor that knew it was me by Bluetooth and my particular cell phone drawing near. My own design, actually.

I pulled into the cavernous space and turned the bike around so it faced out and killed the motor. Mali got down groaning, her body likely as stiff as mine. I got off with a grunt of my own as muscles ached and screamed from too long kept in the same position. Neither of us was getting any younger, it seemed, but neither were we old and used up. I kind of dreaded this just being a preview of coming attractions.

“You’re quiet,” I observed and she turned, working the chinstrap on her helmet loose.

“It’s different,” she said. “From the outside, it’s the same house, but not quite how I remembered at the same time.”

I nodded. “New garage door, new, more energy-efficient windows, and it’s been painted.”

“The inside isn’t going to be the same at all, is it?” she asked and she sounded almost sad… disappointed.

“No, but some things are. I promise.”

She took a deep breath and steeled herself. I held out a hand and she reached out, our fingers tangling together. I hoped she liked it inside, but I’d had to change things. Make the house mine and transition it away from being my parent’s. I was living alone in this giant space with these old ghosts and it wasn’t healthy. I needed to make some changes, but I’d been pretty resistant to some things. Some things I kept as close to exactly the same as I could. Mostly, those were the spaces Mali and I had spent the most time in.

“I guess I’m ready,” she declared. “If that’s what you’re waiting for.”

“No, just soaking up the moment. I mean, you’re here, you’re home with me, and I can’t really tell you how long I’ve waited for this.”

I swept a hand through my hair, chasing it back in front and out of my eyes. She nodded, her eyes traveling over my face and she smiled. “I’ve been waiting just as long,” she said and her voice was light, not judgey, not accusatory, just a gentle and sweet reminder. A reminder that though I’d felt alone all that time, she’d been with me in feeling the same things wherever she’d been at in the world.

We still had so much catching up to do… Now we were finally in a place where we could do it.

“Hungry?” I asked, leading her up the steps and into the house. She stopped inside the door, standing in the entry hall and gazing toward the living room, her eyes roving the familiar room with its unfamiliar furniture.

“There are more pictures on the walls,” she said softly, turning to look at the hall walls and past the banister to the stairs to the walls beyond it.

“More living happened. You know my mom and pictures.”

“Yeah.”

She went to one, drifting away from me, her fingers slipping from mine and I let her go to it. She touched the frame with a gentle fingertip and her eyes grew wet with a light mist.

“I remember this. We went to the carnival, what were we?”

“Seven, I think.”

“Your dad bought us cotton candy, and you wanted to go on the Gravitron… that ride that used centrifugal force, remember?”

“Oh, god! Don’t remind me!” I groaned and clutched my stomach. She laughed.

“We came down off those panels and you staggered outside and barely made the trash can!”

“Everything was blue and I freaked out.”

“Never made fun of you for crying, though.”

“No, you never did…”

“Your parents were so cool about it, too.” She looked wistful and I went to her, pulling her into my arms. She rested her head on my shoulder and her arms dipped beneath my jacket and cut, close to my body, taking advantage of the warmth and closeness. I laid my cheek on her hair and twisted gently, back and forth, rocking her and she worked through some of her sorrow. I know I was working on mine. The grief of lost time, lost memories, mourning the death of what could have been…

“You didn’t answer my question,” I said softly, after a time.

“Not hungry,” she whispered. “Just so tired…”

“Bed, then?”

“Yeah. Sleep sounds really good. I wish I were up for something else but…”

“Hush, plenty of time for all of that, later. Right now I’d be good with you naked against me and like a solid week’s worth of sleep.”

She groaned, “God that sounds so good. I mean, is it always like this with them? Go, go, and go, all the time?”

“No. Wasn’t my first choice either, baby; you can trust me on that.”

“No, no, I believe it,” she let her breath out in a huge rush of warm air, “Just… I’m tired.”

“I get it, come on up.”

She let me lead her to and up the stairs to the second floor and paused, touching the door to my old bedroom. I smiled and opened it up for her and I felt her shoulders slump with relief. This was a room I hadn’t changed. Nothing. Not a thing… but I also didn’t sleep here anymore. The twin bed definitely insufficient.

“We’ll revisit later, yeah?”

“Yeah, okay,” she agreed.

I led her down to my parent’s old room, the master suite, and she followed. I shut the door tightly behind us and she sighed, looking around relieved. This space was all mine, the new me, the ‘me’ that I’d been without Mali here, suffering daily through her absence. This room was very grown up and with her in it, almost felt foreign now.

She took everything in, the muted masculine colors I preferred; the modern furniture, and slid out of my old jacket slowly. I took it from her and hung it on the coat tree in the corner by the closet, adding mine beside hers. I stared at the two coats, side by side, hanging innocuously there and felt a stricture around my heart ease marginally. She was here, really here with me in this space, but it still sort of felt incomplete. I didn’t know why, and when I turned, I saw it reflected in her eyes, too.

Maybe time? Maybe we just needed to get through a small grace period before things started to feel right. It was just so incredibly new, shocking almost, even though it was what both of us wanted so badly.

She sank down carefully on the side of my bed and leaned over, working the laces open on her boots and disengaging the zipper on the inside of each leg, lowering them to the floor. I pulled off my own and set them at the base of the coat rack like I did every time I took them off when I was home. She looked around with uncertainty and scraped her bottom lip between her teeth. I went over and took her boots from her and took them over and set them next to mine, beneath her jacket.

“I feel so out of place,” she said and looked at a loss when it came to saying more. I went to her and held my hands out. She obliged me and took them, letting me draw her to her feet. I pulled her close, twining her arms around my waist and cradled her face between my hands.

“You’re right where I want you to be. You’re right where you belong.” I lowered my lips to hers and her eyes drifted shut. She kissed me back, slow, sweet, and in no rush. We savored each other, our bodies relaxing, tension easing from muscles even as our mutual breathing picked up.

“Clothes off,” she breathed and I hauled on the back of my shirt, up over my head. She gripped the hem of hers and they both drifted to the floor forgotten as we reached for one another, pulling each other tight.

“I thought you were tired,” I teased when she went for my belt.

“I am, but I need you to put me in a coma.”

I laughed, “Yeah?” The smile melted off my face when she looked at me and her brown eyes were nothing but somber. It killed my boner, and I smoothed my hands up and down her arms.

“Talk to me, baby,” I murmured and didn’t care about the pleading that’d crept into my tone.

“I’m a magnet for disaster, Kyle,” she said helplessly. “I hurt everyone I come into contact with. I feel like a regular Typhoid Mary and I’m all of a sudden not so sure that this was such a good idea.”

“It’s the best idea,” I said.

“I’m really not so sure. What if I fuck this up like I have everything else?” She grimaced and I held her tight.

“You didn’t fuck anything up, Mali. You shot the son of a crime boss who was trying to shoot your dad. You defended the only piece of family you had. If that’s on anybody, it’s on your pops. Not you.”

I knew I was treading on dangerous ground. Mali was as loyal as a person could get where her dad was concerned. When we’d been kids, she’d come up with every excuse for him under the damn sun when he’d lose his shit and do something awful. She craved so badly to be loved and accepted by him; and on the surface? He tried to make it look good in front of other people that she was the apple of his eye, but I don’t think he was honestly capable of anything deep. As my momma used to say, that man was as shallow as God made them.

I waited for her to make an excuse, to take up for him now, but she surprised me. She didn’t say anything in his defense, instead, she murmured, “Maybe I just need a good night’s sleep. Maybe, I’m just tired and will feel better in the morning.”

I nodded, “I have a thing tomorrow for my day job, but I think you’re right, baby. Sleep is the order of the day.”

She stepped back reluctantly but I beat her to unfastening her pants. I went to my knees in front of her and slid them down her legs, taking her panties with them. I took them off, then slipped off her socks one by one. I stood, trailing fingertips along her curves and supple skin. Learning her body by touch like a blinded man learning braille. I guess, in some ways, I was blinded when it came to Mali. I knew she had flaws but to me, they were nothing compared to her light and I was dazzled by that. I was so in love with her, I took seventeen years out of my life to find her and did things in that time that most men would call me crazy if they knew.

I was crazy. Crazy about her. Always had been and always would be.

I stood slowly, letting my fingertips drag along her body as she stood there, eyes closed and barely breathing. I was inside her space, drinking her energy in long before my lips touched hers for a physical taste. She whimpered against my mouth and the hard-on that’d lost interest was suddenly back and all about it. I unfastened my own jeans, shoving them and my boxers off my hips, Mali’s long, sensual fingers came out of nowhere, wrapping around my length, stroking me from root to tip. Her other hand rested on my hip, fingers digging, subtly begging for me to come that much closer.

I held her face between my hands and concentrated on kissing her and she took a half step back toward the bed. I followed, staying in her space, unwilling to let her go. Her talk of being toxic bothered me, made me afraid that she might try to leave again in a bid to protect me from my own heart’s deepest desire: that she stay. That she would live with me and be with me like this until we were both old and gray like we’d talked about so many times before, when we were kids.

She stopped, pinned between me and the bed. She broke our kiss and turned in my embrace putting her back to my chest. My arms locked around her body and my hand found her chin. I pinned her against my body, playing lips and teeth against the side of her neck. She gave a throaty gasp as I let my cock find its way between her ass cheeks, pressing it snug between them as I growled in her ear harshly, “What you do to me…”

“God yes, I want you to use it,” she moaned back.

“Hair down,” I ordered and her hands immediately moved to comply.

Her fingers unwound her braid and worked the mass of her tresses loose. I gave her a shove and demanded, “Lay down on your stomach.”

She climbed up onto the bed and lay on her stomach and the fact she complied was a heady cocktail of power and desire in my blood. I started low, kissing her calves, moving up her legs, steady, my heart rate and body heat climbing as I settled over her, hands on her ass and opened her up, I wanted to make love to her, but more importantly, I wanted things to be intimate.

So I played with her body, causing sensations, doing everything I could to make her melt, make her relax, and bring down the invisible walls between us. I would take all night if I had to.