Chapter 49
Malcolm
I pulled into my driveway and hit the button for the garage. At first, I was confused when I saw tires, but a smile spread across my face when I realized whose car was parked there. I’d been bummed when Ginger declined to have dinner with me tonight. I’d planned on calling her to see if she wanted to hang out later, but here she was. I parked, grabbed my takeout from the front seat, and headed into the house.
Laughter greeted me when I walked in. Ginger ran around acting like a monster or something, chasing Shawn. She stopped when she saw me.
“Hey.”
“Hey yourself.”
Shawn ran over, raising his arms so I could pick him up.
“I called first this time but—”
“I left my phone,” I finished for her as I walked over to give her a quick kiss.
“Yeah, I heard it buzz when I texted you after I got here.” She reached up to take Shawn from me. “Come here, you. Let Malcolm eat.”
My gaze dropped to watch her ass as she walked away. “Dorian’s gone now. Happy about that?”
She shrugged. “I suppose. Her new place is nice.”
Shawn walked back over to me as I took a seat at the island. I bent down to pick him up, gave him a fry. “You ‘suppose?’ Thought you’d be popping champagne bottles to celebrate.”
She started picking up some of the toys laying around. “Yeah, I thought so too, but the house felt empty. Crazy, right?”
“More,” Shawn said, leaning forward trying to get another fry.
“I promise I fed him.”
I gave him two this time. “No problem. Growing boy needs to eat. Have you been upstairs?”
She shook her head. “No, why?”
“I put together his crib and even decorated it.”
Shawn wiggled to get down so he could follow behind his mother when she left the room. I got up to follow her up the stairs.
“Looks good, doesn’t it?” I was quite proud of the Carolina Panthers bedding I’d managed to find. “I ordered a Fathead for the wall, should be here next week. Along with a few other things to complete the theme.”
“A what?”
“A Fathead. A large, life-like decal. It’s awesome.”
She laughed. I put Shawn down, and he walked over to the crib, attempting to climb up the bars.
“Looks like he likes it.”
“I guess so. You’re trying to make him into a Panthers fan?”
“Hell, yeah. Need someone to be on my side. You don’t care and Mitch is all about the Falcons.”
“It looks good, Mal, and thank you for getting it set up.”
“No thanks needed. I had fun doing it. Is this just a visit or are you staying the night?”
Ginger walked over to pick up Shawn. “Staying the night, if that’s okay. It’s weird, I didn’t want Dorian to stay with me, but the house felt oddly empty with her gone.”
“I’m more than happy to keep you company.”
I didn’t want to read too much into her statement. Maybe she was starting to see that house for the haven of bad memories that it was, but I wouldn’t push. She was coming around on her own, which made it all that much more rewarding.
After I finished eating, I gathered their bags from her car while she picked out a movie for us to watch. Like last time, Shawn had fallen asleep before the end of it. I offered to put him down for her.
When I entered my room, Ginger was bent over her bag, digging through it, in only her beige bra and panties. My gaze was drawn to the scar on her back. I’d seen it. I’d felt it when we’d made love. I knew it was there, but that didn’t stop the renewed rage that crept up. It was bad enough that asshole left her with deep emotional scars, but he had to add physical too.
I walked over and ran my fingers down the length of it.
She jumped at the contact and looked back at me. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing.” I continued running my fingers down her back. The skin was smooth over the scar. Still, there were parts that were bumpy, as if the tissue had not healed correctly, causing a small lump.
She stood, holding a shirt to her chest. Her body tensed, as if my touching the scar pained her. My gaze traveled to that large ass tattoo on her shoulder. It might have actually been pretty, if not for his initials. I started to trace it with my finger. Ginger turned to face me, working to put her shirt on as she did.
She kept her head down. “It was an impulse decision.”
“Yours or his?”
Her head snapped up to look at me, deer in headlight expression on her face.
“There’s no way I’m going to believe you went out and got a tattoo after Shawn was born.”
Ginger started chewing on her thumbnail. She opened her mouth to speak but stopped, then turned away from me, and pulled on a pair of shorts.
“I should have gotten it lasered off or something, but—”
“But you named Shawn using the same initials, instead.”
She nodded as she turned back around. “Like you said, I wouldn’t have gone to get one, nor was I going to go see someone to take it off for the same reasons.”
“The scar?”
She nodded again. “Among other reasons.”
I stepped closer and pulled her into an embrace. I rested my hands at the top of her waistband and slid my thumb under her shirt to stroke the small of her back. She didn’t relax into me; instead, her body remained rigid like when I’d touched her moments ago.
I debated on if I wanted to ask the question that’d been on my mind since I first saw it. People got tattoos for their significant others all the time. They were in love and wanted to display that love for all to see. So what she’d done wasn’t completely crazy, but at the same time it seemed out of character for Ginger.
“Can I ask why you got it?”
She placed her hands on my chest and rested her forehead against me. She took slow, controlled breaths. I slid my other hand up her back, under her hair, coming to rest on the back of her neck. I gently massaged while I waited for her to deal with whatever she was wrestling with. Her hesitance made me think her answer had a whole lotta nothing to do with love.
I cupped her face and gave her a kiss on her forehead. “It’s okay, baby, you don’t have to answer.”
I let her go and headed over to my dresser for a pair of shorts. I pulled my shirt off and dropped it on the floor, followed by my pants. After putting the shorts on, I turned to catch Ginger still standing where I’d left her, with arms wrapped around herself, staring off into space.
I walked over to the wall. “Lights out.”
She looked over at me, almost dazed before nodding and climbing under the covers. I watched as she turned onto her side, facing the wall, which meant her back would be to me when I joined her. I thought about curling up behind her but thought better of it. This seemed to be one of those times she wanted space, so that’s what she’d get. I flipped onto my side, staring at the opposite wall.
After a few moments, Ginger pressed her body against me. Her arm snaked its way under mine and across my waist. She kissed my back and pulled her body closer.
“I don’t know why I reacted like that,” she whispered.
“It’s fine.”
“Doesn’t feel fine. Feels like you’re mad.”
“I’m not.”
She pulled away. I could tell she was moving around behind me. A tug on my arm pulled me to my back, and then she scrambled to climb on top of me.
“What the hell?”
Ginger grabbed my arms and placed them on her back. Her bare back. She slid her arms under mine, pressing her trembling body against my chest.
“Are you cold?”
She shook her head. I wrapped her tighter in my arms.
“I lied,” she whispered.
“About?”
“Not knowing why I reacted that way. I know exactly why.”
The tremor in her voice confirmed my earlier suspicions; it was another bad memory because of that sadistic asshole.
“It doesn’t matter. Everyone has limits. No one is a complete open book.”
“So, you’re keeping things from me?”
I ran my fingers up and down her back, keeping to the sides and away from her scar, not wanting to make her uncomfortable about it again.
“No, Ginger, I can’t think of anything I’ve not shared or wouldn’t share with you.”
“So, it’s okay for you to be an open book but not me?” The accusation went unmasked in her tone.
I remained quiet, unsure of how I was the bad guy again. But I was. A real damned if I do, damned if I don’t situation.
“That’s not what I’m saying. If you want to share, then I’m more than happy to hear what you have to say. But it has to be because you want to. Not because you think I’m mad, which I’m not, or because you feel you’ve been pushed into some sort of corner. I’m not gonna try and Jedi mind trick you into anything. If it’s a topic you don’t want to discuss, I respect that. Say you don’t want to talk about it. But don’t lie to me.”
She nodded. “Okay.”
Ginger’s head rested against my chest. The weight of her body against mine, was comfortable. I closed my eyes and listened to her steady breathing.
She shifted, moving off me to curl up beside me. I wrapped my arm around, her keeping her close. I ran my fingers up and down her arm as I drifted off to sleep.