CHERISH (79 page)

I can hear where this is going, and I lean back onto the desk before I fall over.

“Are you really fucking telling me you’re Jordan’s father? How can you be sure?”

“I already had a DNA test done. I wanted to tell you sooner, but not until I was sure. Test results came in a few days ago. He’s mine. No one knows yet besides me, my attorney and his case worker.” I see something in his face I’ve never seen before, and I can’t place the emotion. “And now you.”

“Fucking Jesus. I don’t know what the fuck to say, man.”

“Don’t say anything. You’re talking on my time.” He cracks a smile. “I have two minutes, and I’ve got more.”

My heart is using a sledge on my chest wall, and my hands run up and over my forehead, and then I’m holding onto the back of my neck to keep my head attached.

“I did some investigating of my own on these fires and on Jeremy. I did some covert shit, and all my damn arrows kept pointing toward him. I called the owner of the building across from mine. One of the security camera’s across the street from the loft picked up Jeremy climbing the fire escape and breaking the window into your dad’s apartment the night of the fire. It shows you and Promise leaving, and him sneaking in. That’s all I needed to take to the cops for them to serve a search warrant on his house. Guess what they found?”

I can’t help the waves of sickness coming over me. I’m not fucking sure what is going on. “I don’t like guessing games.”

“They found all sorts of records on his computer. Pictures of Promise from when she was little. He’s been following her, stalking her. He kept notebooks full of letters to her, things he wanted to do to her, things he told her to do.
Like set fires.
He even showed her how. Bought her the lighter fluid, the matches, drew her maps showing her where to start them. It was fucking
him.
She was a kid, man, a vulnerable, broken, little kid, and he pretended to be her savior. Told her when she wasn’t happy in one of the homes he put her in, to set a fire. He thought eventually, he would be able to take her in himself . . . If you leave now, you’ll be lost. Forever. And so will she. You know that; I know that.”

“Your time is up. Are you finished?” I stare him down, and he shakes his head in exasperation.

“Are you really that far gone? Nothing matters? Not her, not the book, your art, all those kids, nothing I said changes anything?” His dark eyes flash with anger.

“I just asked if you were finished, because now it’s my turn.”

Louis crosses his arms over his chest, puffing up ready for me to lay into him.

“
Where is she?
”

Beckett

I push through the front doors at Windfield. April is tossing a blast of spring into Cleveland, and the sun comes in right behind me.

“Hey, is Bruce around?” The receptionist is wide eyed as she traces an obvious gaze over the colorful ribbons and medals that decorate me today.

“Sure, let me page him. Your name?” The Ariana Grande look alike twirls a lock of hair between her fingers.

“Beckett Fitzgerald.” She smiles when I give her my name, and within two minutes I hear Bruce’s voice coming from around the corner as he playfully chastises someone named Marvin for giving a member of the staff a pat on the ass.

“Just keep your hands to yourself. Didn’t they teach you that in
like
kindergarten?” I shake my head as his smile and snorting laugh introduce him to the great room and everything looks a little brighter. I extend my hand, and he smiles back.

“You here to see me? I’m flattered.” That boyish charm takes over the room as he sets one hand on his hip and shakes mine with the other.

“Not today, my friend. She here?”

“Yep. Dang, you are puttin’ on the dang Ritz today.” He eyes me stem to stern, and I roll my eyes because I can see from his look, he’s not done. “Wow, I need a second. You are workin’ it today, aren’t you?”

“I want to surprise her. Can you tell me where she is? Don’t call her down, okay?”

He shakes his head because he knows this could blow up for me.

“You’re brave. You’re going to need all those medals
and
some armor.””

“Yep. I’m ready. Whatever happens, but just do me this one last favor.”

He rubs his bald head with a snort.

“Come on. She’s just getting off shift, but she started a reading group. She reads aloud to a group every Tuesday and Thursday. Wonder where she got that idea?”

Wow, I love this girl.

I’ve got a nervous smile plastered on my face as I stride the halls. The older faces either smile back or barely notice me. There are tasteful, floral sofas and bookshelves down each hall. The faces each tell a story, and I’m hoping today will be a big part of mine someday.

Bruce steps with me chattering on the entire time we wind through the hallways, but I don’t remember anything he says. I’m rehearsing.

I hear her ten steps before we get to the doorway.

I’m drunk instantly. Her voice is intoxicating. Blood is rushing through my ears, and it’s hard to stand. It’s hard to live right now because I don’t know if I’ve fucked up my life beyond all recognition. But, I’m about to find out.

I listen for a few minutes and peek inside the room from a spot where she can’t see me. She’s reading
Gulliver’s Travels
, and there are ten faces fixed on her as she sits with legs crossed, pushing her hair back over her shoulders every few sentences.

Angels have nothing on her face, and I’m as nervous as I’ve ever been.

Bruce and I are standing in the hallway leading to the activity room. She hasn’t noticed us yet, and my stomach is in fourteen kinds of knots being this close to her and realizing what I almost lost.

What I may or may not get back.

Bruce’s low voice hums next to my ear. “She’s laid on the damn couch for a
week
. Pitiful. Both of you are a pain in my ass; you know that? She wouldn’t even unpack the boxes you shipped back. And,” he raises his eyebrows and jabs a finger into my shoulder, “that was
cold
. Sending her stuff back like that.” He shakes his head at me. “All her paintings are still in the crates. She left her mattress on the floor along with her clothes. My apartment is a damn nightmare because of you two.”

“Sorry, man,” I whisper over my shoulder, unwilling to look away from her. “My head was fucked.”

“Well, I can’t take much more of you two. I’m just sayin’.” He clears his throat before he continues, his voice dropping, and I hear the concern. “I wasn’t sure she was gonna make it. Losing Jordan and you in the same day. When they let her say goodbye to him, I had to carry her out of that bitch Lydia’s office. She didn’t eat for six days. I threatened to put her in a damn room here if she didn’t take a shower and eat a damn protein bar.”

He’s back to his boyish laughter with a stomp of his foot.

“I don’t know how to thank you,” I say with deep gratitude. “You took care of her when I didn’t. I don’t know if you know how much that means to me. It’s everything. Thanks, man.”

I shift my eyes toward the perpetually smiling man to look him straight in the eye. He deserves my attention, my respect and more.

I hold out my hand, and he reluctantly gives me a quick shake.

“
Geeeeeez-us
, don’t go all girl on me. I need to
go
. She does this reading group on her own time, so you interrupt all you want, makes no difference to me.” He pauses, giving me an affectionate look that is also chastising. “Good to have you back.”

With that, he turns with a snort. He’s got someone else in his sights, and his voice is booming down the hall with its usual humor.

My legs feel like they’ve been packed full of lead buckshot. I don’t remember the last time I was this fucking scared. But, I’m not sure what’s about to happen, and she’s got the rest of my life in her hands.

Don’t pussy out, man. Gird your loins, because she may come at you with both barrels, and you deserve that shit. Take it like a man.

With a twitch of my neck, I push off from my hiding place in the doorway. “Hey, I’m sorry everyone.” I take my first strides into the activity room with my most commanding voice, and a wave of heat comes up from my toes and doesn’t stop until I am covered in it “You see, I hate to interrupt, but I need to tell a story of my own.”

Promise’s head darts around, and her eyes flash fire at me, her lips pulling to the side. Her brow furrows, and I can imagine her launching off her seat at me like a cat.

She isn’t screaming. I’ll take that as a win.

There are ten wrinkled faces staring and glaring at me. I take a gulp of air and push on because it’s my only choice.

“See, everyone, this girl here? I took her on our first date a month ago. I know that doesn’t seem like a long time.” I’m two steps from her now, and she looks away, arms crossed tight over her chest. I get a breath of her, and it sends my head swimming.

“Go away,” she whispers toward the window.

I look at the confused crowd. It’s not every day that a six foot four-inch man with half a face in full Military dress breaks up your book club.

It had taken me a good hour to decide how this was going to go down. I’d thought about wearing a suit or just keeping it real with jeans, but no. She deserves the most respect I can give her, and this is it. My chest is half covered in colored ribbons and clanking medals, but none of it matters if she’s not with me.

I carry on with my story ignoring her dismissal.

“The thing is, I’ve loved more in that month than I have in my entire life. I’ve also hurt her, and she’s probably madder than a wet cat right now because I didn’t trust her. The way I always asked her to trust me.”

Her head flips around, and when her eyes hit mine, I lose my balance.

“
Just go away
. You’re making a fool out of yourself. We don’t have anything to talk about. Remember? You wrote it down and slipped it under the door.” She sneers but I hear the little catch in her voice and my chest tightens.

I look back at the little group. They’re mesmerized by the drama unfolding in front of them.

“She’s right.” I address what I hope will be my support group over the next few minutes because I need them. “I am making a fool out of myself. So, since I have you all here to help me, I need some advice.” I take a few steps around until I’m behind her chair and watch her shift in her seat and let out a deep puff of air, looking straight ahead. “How do I win her back?”

“
You don’t,
” she snaps. “Just go.
Please,
Beck.” The pain in her voice cuts me in those soft places only she can.

My name. Her lips. Win number two.

“This is too hard, too much,” she says in a softer whisper as she pulls a shoulder up toward her left ear. “You were right, I am broken.” She spins to look up to where I’m hovering behind her, and I feel her pain.

My soul darkens knowing I’ve contributed to what hurts her.

“Tell her you love her. Tell her you’re sorry,” chimes one smiling, little lady with a lavender blouse and a crucifix around her neck.

“That’s not enough,” another cute, round, wrinkled face adds, sounding more like Promise. “You are going to have to make it up to her. Ten times over. You can’t hurt someone and just expect it all to be forgiven because you waltz in here in your fancy uniform making a spectacle in front of a bunch of old people. Show her something is different.
Show
her, don’t tell her.”

The crowd stares at me, then Promise, then each other again as they take a silent vote on my worthiness. Before I know it, there is a full, passionate debate raging. Raised voices fill the room, and I’ve lost complete control of the crowd.

My fingertips graze ever so lightly on the sides of her hair. I can’t stop myself. She’s so close, and every part of me feels as bound to her right now as when we gave ourselves to each other.

“Please, Promise, just talk to me.” There’s a hitch in my voice, and I have to swallow hard to continue. “I’ve never been so wrong about anything in my life as I was that day I left you in that police station. Just let me tell you how sorry I am and if you want, I’ll go.”

Her body is as still as carved ivory. My hands caress the silk of her hair, and my senses fill with her sweet floral scent. I have to close my eyes, and I say a little prayer.

“You left me there.” Her voice makes me draw in a quick breath, and I open my eyes. She doesn’t turn or move. “You said you would never leave me. I guess I misunderstood the word never.” Her voice goes from pained to accusatory, and I can feel my heart being carved from my chest because she’s right.

“I’ve never been so sorry for anything in my life.” I spin around in front of her, crouching down because when she’s ready to talk again, I want her to know I’m listening. “I got lost. I went dark, and I just wish you would have told me. When we said we would never hide anything from each other. Then I found out . . . it broke me. Knowing you couldn’t trust me with that. Couldn’t tell me everything.
Give me everything
. It hurt so much; I didn’t know how to live with it.”

Her hands clutch the leather bound copy of
Gulliver’s Travels
in her lap, the same one she read to my dad that last night, and she finally looks right into my eyes.