I woke up to something poking me.
I grumbled, slapping at the irritation. It came again, more insistent, stabbing into the flesh of my shoulder. Throwing myself onto my other side, I tried to ignore it, but it came again, this time on my back.
“Mom!”
My eyes snapped open, and I shot up, turning to look at the child who stood at the head of my bed like a scene directly out of my nightmares. “Of all that is holy, bud.” I rubbed at my eyes, looking at the clock and trying to remember what year it was. “Why are you awake? What’s wrong?”
“Somebody’s at our front door.”
I blinked, trying to focus more on what he was saying. “What?”
“Somebody’s banging on our door. It woke me up.”
I moved my legs around the useless dog sleeping near my ankles and dropped my feet to the floor. It couldn’t be Layla. She took Sadie and went to Rick’s tonight, and even if she hadn’t, she obviously had a key. Maybe someone had the wrong house?
Then I heard it. Jamie was right, it wasn’t knocking. Someone was banging on our door, incessantly. That wasn’t the knock of someone who was accidentally at the wrong house.
It was no surprise it hadn’t set off Rugpants, the sound was so hard, it sounded more like road construction than someone at the door. Whoever was there was determined to wake the dead from the graveyard down the road.
“All right, I’ll go check it out. Go back to your room.”
I grabbed a sweater from my dirty clothes basket, tossing it over my sleep tank and heading down the hall. The banging started again, almost in sync with my footfalls.
“Maybe you should call Garrett?”
I stopped near the couch, twisting to look at Jamie, who had absolutely not gone to his room.
“I am not waking Garrett. It’s not his house or his problem, bud.” I hadn’t seen him much this last week, but there was still a chance it could be him. He’d never sounded like he was trying to tear my door down before, but he certainly wasn’t a quiet knocker either.
Maybe something had happened to Sarah, and he’d had a drink and couldn’t drive, or maybe his house was on fire, or maybe he cut his finger off chopping carrots at midnight. Suddenly, I was walking faster. I didn’t even bother glancing out the window before yanking the door open in my haste to make sure he was okay.
He wasn’t.
And he wasn’t Garrett.
Aaron stood before me, propped against the door frame. Wasted. His shirt was soaking wet down the center and a chaotic halo of auburn hair surrounded his head. He blinked at me in surprise, his eyes looking more like glass marbles.
“There you are. You’ve been making me wait out here a long time.” The sour tang of his breath crashed into my senses, blanketing me in a bile-like aroma.
I gripped the door, flinging it shut as hard as I could, but he threw himself forward, slamming his shoulder into the wood and sending it back toward me. The crack of it hitting my face vibrated down my body and back up, leaving a ringing in my ears.
My head jerked back, and I tried to retreat but only succeeded in tripping over my feet in my urgency. A firm, clammy grip wrapped around my arm, halting my flailing and keeping me upright.
“Now, see, look what you did. You hurt yourself, honey. That’s what you get for being rude.”
His speech was slurred, and he tried to pull me closer, but his drunken spatial awareness was garbage. All it took was a frantic yank on my end, and I pulled away, knocking him off center.
“That was a bitchy thing to do.”
Ignoring the throbbing of my head, I crossed my arms to hide their shaking. “You need to leave. You have no right to come inside my home.” My words came out strong, but I was a quaking mess inside.
He rubbed a hand over his lips, looking me up and down with watery, bloodshot eyes. “This game of pretend is growing…obnoxious. This little playhouse is not your home.”
He looked at me hungrily, like he had every intention of stealing me away and locking me back up in his house. He hadn’t even glanced at Jamie, and if that wasn’t a clear indication of the kind of man he was, I didn’t know what was.
I slid a hand down the pocket of my sweats, discreetly searching for a phone that wasn’t there. Oh God, why had I not grabbed it on my way out? How many times did I have to make stupid decisions in my life before I learned my lesson? I’d admittedly made a lot, but answering the door at midnight without a phone on hand was pretty high on the stupidity ranking.
I stepped back, twisting so my back faced the kitchen barstools. I wanted to simultaneously keep my eye on Aaron to my left and Jamie on my right.
Jamie hadn’t moved from his spot between the couch and the hallway, and I knew if I looked at him, my heart would be ripped from my chest and thrown into a nest of vipers. I kept my eyes on Aaron, knowing even inebriated as he was, he was stronger than me by a lot.
“Jamie, why don’t you go to my room and sit with Rugpants, okay?” She’d been barking like crazy from the second Aaron’s voice broke through the air, and it was only increasing my level of anxiety.
“No.”
I dared to take my eyes off my ex just long enough to pin my son with the firmest gaze I’d ever given him. “Get in my room and shut the door. I am not asking.”
I immediately looked back to the threat now leaning against the far side of the bar, and a small amount of tension released from my soul when I heard the sound of Jamie’s retreating steps. I stood a small chance if I didn’t also have to protect him. I could do it.
I could fight back this time.
“I’ll forgive you, Madison. I promise. I’ll forgive all of the last few years. Just come home.”
“I’m not playing a game. I want you to leave.”
His brows lowered. “No. I want to fucking talk to you. Why are you always trying to start a fight?”
Breathe in. Breathe out. “I’m not. I’m asking you to leave.”
He stumbled closer, and, on instinct, I took a step back. I’d taken a self-defense class as soon as I’d healed from the last time I’d disappointed him, but I didn’t actually know much more than the basic stuff I’d done to Garrett. One class wasn’t going to get me out of this unscathed.
I was scared. So scared, I couldn’t even sense the safe place in my mind, but I still had claws. I wouldn’t make it easy for him.
I will fight back.
He continued to approach, cursing when he staggered into a barstool. I glanced back at the hall, considering making a run for my phone, but the thought of him cornering me in a room with Jamie and only one exit had me nearly gasping for air like a fish out of water.
“Please, Aaron, it’s late. I promise we can talk tomorrow.”
“You’re lying.” He was only a foot away now, pinning me between two of the stools while he continued mumbling incoherent words under his breath.
“I’m not.” I was. “Whatever it is you want to talk about, I promise we can talk tomorrow when you’re—when we’re both feeling better.”
“Liar,” he drew the word out, shaking a finger back and forth. “You think I’m drunk. You just want to kick me out like the bitch you are.”
He lunged, wrapping his fingers around my neck, and pushed against my windpipe until my back bowed over the bar. He squeezed just enough for pressure to build, and I did the first thing I could think of. I spit in his face.
He yelled, recoiling, and I took my chance. Flinging my hands up, I aimed for his eyes, but before I could make contact, he dropped forward, smashing his body into mine. One of the barstools crashed to the floor, and my back screamed as the edge of the bar etched itself into my spine. I tried, but I couldn’t hold back the cry that slipped free.
Using his free hand to steady himself with a barstool, Aaron leaned down, his hot, acidic breath landing on my cheek and stirring up memories best left untouched. Panic clawed its way up my throat when the hand gripping me migrated to clamp around my jaw.
“You little cu—”
My front door shot open, the hinges creaking in protest, and a freezing gust of air filled the room, introducing the six feet of male standing at the threshold. He was practically naked, sporting only a pair of checkered boxers, and his broad chest heaved in and out like he’d sprinted straight from his bed. His eyes zeroed in on me—or more specifically, the hand still clutching me—and his features turned feral.
Aaron immediately went off, cursing Garrett and calling me a whore in every drunken, uncreative way possible. He was like a defective bomb trying to detonate but failing to take anyone out. His words bounced off Garrett’s statue form, tumbling to the ground.
The second Aaron released his hold on my jaw and turned toward him, Garrett moved. There was no stopping, no pausing, no taking a moment to blink. One second, he was at the door, and the next he was punching my ex straight in the face.
Aaron’s head snapped back with such force, I was surprised he didn’t break his neck. He collapsed to the floor in a heap at my feet, groaning and smearing the back of his hand through the blood pouring from his nostrils.
Stooping down, Garrett grabbed him by his collar, hauling him up only to smash his fist into his face a second time. I cried out, banging into the single-standing stool next to me in my effort to move.
“Garrett, stop!”
Even in the fog of his anger, he froze at the sound of my voice, locking eyes with me while Aaron dangled like a rag doll from his outstretched arm. His eyes were swirling storms of fury, agony, and despair. They flicked away from me, wincing as they looked at something over my shoulder.
My heart fell when I followed his gaze to see Jamie standing in the hall, wide-eyed. His back was plastered to the wall, both hands gripping my phone to his chest.
Garrett let the unconscious body in his grip drop to the floor, and when he spoke, the words were hoarse. “You all right, J-man?”
Jamie’s head bobbed up and down, but he didn’t attempt to move from his spot.
“I’m proud of you.”
The way my child’s face lit up at Garrett’s words of praise was all at once amazing and devastating at the same time.
I expected Garrett to look at me next and ask if I was all right or what happened, but he didn’t. He didn’t even look at me. He curled his arms underneath Aaron’s shoulders and began dragging his body out like a corpse.
I jolted forward, my eyes darting from the morbid-looking scene before me back to Jamie. “What are you doing? Garrett!”
He continued ignoring me, retreating through the open front door and down my porch, Aaron’s body thumping after him. Indignation flared inside of me, and I chased him down, closing the door behind me so Jamie wouldn’t follow.
It was pitch black and freezing out, and I bounced from one foot to the other, pulling my sweater tighter around me.
“What are you—oh my God, what are you doing?!” I called out as he threw Aaron into the backseat of his Nova like a sack of rotten garbage and slammed the door.
“Garrett, talk to me.”
He slapped both palms on his car, leaning forward to rest his head between them. Positioned the way he was, with every naked muscle in his back and legs on display, he looked like a fallen angel who’d lost his wings. It tore at me. “I’m sorry you had to—”
Flat hands turned to fists, and his shoulders tensed and shifted. “Don’t stand there and fucking compare me to him, Maddie. I am not him.”
I threw my arms out. “What are you talking about, I’m not!”
“When your gut reaction is to apologize every time I help you, you’re comparing me to him. When you second-guess how I’ll respond and feel the need to grovel to maintain my approval, you’re comparing. Stop fucking apologizing.”
I pulled my lips into my mouth, pressing down until it felt like my teeth would slice through. He hadn’t looked up from his car, but he might as well have laid me out. His words lashed out at me like a whip, digging into everything I was, and showing all the cracks.
I didn’t know how to stop over-thinking and second-guessing. I didn’t know how to be different.
“This is a little more than fixing my dishwasher or cleaning my fence, Garrett. You have a body in the back of your car, and you’re obviously upset with me. You won’t even look at me.”
He shoved off, twisting to me with a speed that didn’t seem possible. In only a few strides, he was flush against me, the skin of his stomach pressing against my sweater. His fingers dove into my hair, tangling in my curls as he gripped the back of my head and tilted it back.
“You want to know why I can’t fucking look at you? Because looking at you reminds me of what you told me last week. It makes me want to rip that motherfucker out of my car and finish what I started.
“I can’t look at your face without seeing the ghost of his fingerprints and remembering what they looked like on you, without remembering how you look when your eyes fog over in fear. It’ll be seared into my mind until the day I die.”
I subconsciously reached up, placing my hands on his chest. His grip tightened, pulling at the hairs along my nape, but I barely noticed. Hell, I was barely breathing.
“As long as that piece of shit is within arm’s reach of me, I can’t keep fucking looking at you, or tonight’s story is going to have a completely different fucking ending.”
My heart stuttered and stopped as he pulled away from me, dropping my hands to hang uselessly at my sides. “What are you going to do to him?”
“He’s not your concern.” He turned, running toward his house and disappearing. I didn’t move until he returned. Keys in hand, he’d only thrown on a pair of jeans and untied boots and climbed into his car.
“Go back inside and hug your son, Maddie. He needs to know you’re okay.” And with that, he shut his door and reversed out of the drive.
I should’ve checked his trunk for a shovel while he’d been inside.
When I stepped into my house, my senses were assaulted by the smell of pure bliss. I walked to the couch, grabbing a blanket thrown over it, and wrapped myself in the soft fleece before venturing into the kitchen. Jamie was standing before two mugs of freshly stirred hot chocolate.
“I haven’t put ice cubes in them yet so don’t drink it.”
I gave a tentative grin, deciding not to point out the massive billows of steam that had already hinted to that fact. Instead, I opened the freezer, twisting the tray and carefully dropping a few cubes into each.
“This was a great idea, thank you. You want to come watch something with me?”
He nodded, grabbing both mugs and carrying them carefully toward the coffee table. He disappeared into his room long enough to grab an extra blanket, and then plopped down next to me.
He needed to talk. What kid wouldn’t? I was still deciding whether I should say something or let him open up to me in time when he handed me my phone.
“Are you mad I called Garrett?”
“No, of course not.”
He played with the fringe of his blanket. “I know I should’ve called 911, but Garrett was the first person I thought of. I promise I would’ve called 911 next if he didn’t answer.”
I placed my hand over his own, stilling his movements. “I’m not upset. You did what made you comfortable, and I’m proud of you. I should never have put you in a position where you needed to make that choice. I knew better than to answer the door without checking to see who it was. That wasn’t safe.”
“Yeah, it was pretty stupid.”
I sent a mock glare his way. “How’d you even know which number was Garrett’s?” I’d never bothered changing his contact name from Sugar Daddy.
“You and Layla talk a lot. I pay attention.”
I laughed, basking in the relief I felt at the hint of a smile on his face. He was handling it better than I feared, for now at least.
He picked up his mug, curling his legs underneath him and blowing the steam. “I think Garrett loves you.”
I choked, Garrett’s words from earlier still playing on repeat in my head. “Why on earth would you think that, you weirdo?”
He shrugged, sipping delicately at the still too-hot chocolate before grimacing and setting it back down. “He came and saved you. He didn’t even put clothes on first, Mom.”
“And my eyeballs appreciated it,” I said, wiggling my eyebrows. He dove forward over his lap, pretending to gag, and it brought another laugh to my lips that felt pretty dang good.
“He’s just a really good friend, no hearts and flowers involved.” But even as I said it, the words tasted a little like ash.
Jamie considered me for a moment but seemed to accept my answer. We picked out a random movie and curled up with our drinks and blankets. An hour later, he was slumped over, mouth hanging open.
Slipping off the couch, I grabbed my phone and dialed Garrett. I walked to the small window next to the door and peeked out as it rang and rang in my ear.
“You’ve reached Garrett…”
“Goddammit,” I muttered, listening to the rest of his answering message. I had no idea what he was doing, and I was fifty percent terrified and fifty percent undecided.
“Hey, Garrett, it’s me. I’m still awake.” I slid a hand down my face, cringing. Of course, I was awake, I was calling him. “Jamie’s asleep now so I’m going to do some reading or something. I can’t sleep. Anyway, I just wanted to make sure you were all right.”
I ended the call without even saying bye, mentally hitting my head against the wall. How was it, I could make business calls every day of the week, but leaving a voicemail had me stuttering my way through a simple sentence?
Tucking the device into my pocket, I stared at the front door. Unlocking it would be monumentally stupid, and I wouldn’t risk it with Jamie crashed out here, but I also didn’t want Garrett knocking and scaring the pee out of him.
But that was assuming Garrett even stopped by or came back at all. I chewed on the inside of my cheek, again worrying about what the hell he was doing.
The sensation of my phone vibrating against my thigh had me jumping out of my skin. I fought with the material of my pants, trying to dig my phone out of my pocket.
“Hello?”
“It’s me. Open the door.”
My head whipped back to the door as if I’d be able to see him through it. Turning the lock as quietly as I could, I pulled it open, pressing a finger to my lips. Rugsy was bound to go off if he spoke, and the last thing I wanted was to wake Jamie again.
He nodded in understanding and stepped inside. He’d made the time to go home and change into his hoodie and sweats before coming over, and my imagination went wild with all the reasons he might have had to change clothes.
Knowing he’d follow, I made for my room. I crawled across my bed, slipping my arms under the comforter to uncover my lazy guard dog, petting her head as I let her see Garrett so she wouldn’t bark.
He reached an arm back, pulling his hoodie over his head and revealing a plain white shirt underneath. He tossed it over the bottom of the bed before coming to sit next to me, graciously giving Rug some scratches.
“You two okay?”
I gave him a side-eye look. “That depends on what you’re about to tell me.” His expression flattened, and I sighed, flopping back on a pillow. “We’re fine.”
He rubbed his jaw, looking back at my prostrate form. “I’m glad. I’ve been worried about him.”
I rolled to my side. “My instinct is to apologize for worrying you, but I won’t.” He shook his head and opted not to answer. “He told me you were the first person he thought of to call.”
He cleared his throat, staring at the wall. “I’m glad he trusted me enough to call but fuck if it didn’t destroy me. For the rest of my life, I will never forget the way that boy’s voice shook as he begged me to save you.”
Jesus. I patted the spot next to me, scooting over so he had room to lie down. Our knees brushed as he got settled and faced me, curling an arm under his head.
“I was so goddamn scared of how I was going to find you, Maddie.”
“Can I apologize now?” I asked, snuggling deeper into my pillow. When I peeked up, he was glaring at me.
“Then will you tell me where you went?”
“I told you he’s not your concern, Madison.”
Oh, we were back to Madison, were we? Someone really didn’t want me bringing it up. “Will you at least tell me if I need to provide you with an alibi? I’m not the best liar under pressure. I’ll need to practice my statement.”
He flicked me in the nose. “And what will you tell them we were busy doing at midnight?”
My pulse quickened, and I darted my tongue out to lick my lips, suddenly feeling parched. His eyes lowered, and his stare went straight to my core, turning the switch to ON.
God, it’d been way too long since I’d had a release. I needed him to quit looking at me that way or this was going to get really awkward really fast.
“Playing bingo.”
“My favorite nighttime activity.”
I chuckled, turning to roll on my back and stare up at the ceiling. I couldn’t keep looking at him lying there next to me. It was making my heart do stupid things. Like telling me it wanted to see him there every day, smirking at me even when I had bad breath and a frizzy morning mane.
I dove my feet under the covers to get more comfortable and enjoy the few hours I still had before work. Yawning through the words, I closed my eyes and asked, “So, do you need an alibi?”
He grunted. “Ask me in the morning.”
