Standing unsteadily, Ginny searched her mind for the right words. She wanted to scream at Zeke ‘you put your dick in it now you fix it!’ but she couldn’t do that, not to Mox. She had always loved him like her own and now he was Zeke’s, but still not hers. The crack lengthened.
“Everything is okay, baby,” she reassured, reaching up to draw Mox into a hug.
“But if Zeke is my …” his voice trailed off in confusion.
Ginny closed her eyes for a moment to the sight of the bewildered young man, gathering strength and her thoughts. He sounded so much like the little boy that had moved into their home and taken up residence in her heart.
“We just have to add one more to the long list of men Flo has fucked, baby. It doesn’t change the man you have become or how much I love you.”
“Rhys and I are really brothers, and Garrett.”
Ginny nodded, biting her bottom lip.
“But you aren’t …” Mox’s voice cracked and the agony on his face was almost more than Ginny could bear.
“Who bandaged up your bumps and scrapes when you crashed your dirt bike? When you had to have your tonsils out who stayed in the hospital and ate ice cream with you? Who bought your clothes, cooked your meals, and made it to every one of your football games, home or away, from Pop-Warner through High School? I might not have the stretch marks to prove it, but you are my son in every other way,” Ginny said firmly.
Mox engulfed her in a bone-crushing hug, glaring at Zeke over her head. Rocking her slightly, he stroked her hair and kissed her cheek, searching for a way to be there for the woman who had always taken care of him.
“That is so touching,” Kramer sneered, dabbing at crocodile tears. “All that after finding out your husband cheated on you with the town whore while you were pregnant. You really are a rose among the pricks … err … thorns.”
“Careful Kramer, she’s fully capable of drawing blood on her own,” Zeke growled.
“I would love to add assaulting a police officer to your wife’s dossier, Brawer.”
Mox took a threatening step in the diminutive officer’s direction.
“You’ve lost your mind dragging us down here for this dog and pony show. Count on the Chief hearing about this one. This has nothing to do with rape and everything to do with your perverted obsession with my husband,” Ginny hissed, stepping between Mox and Kramer.
“Charge us or we walk.”
The temperature seemed to drop several degrees in the room as Zeke and Kramer sized one another up.
“If we have any more questions we know where to find you. I’m sure your family has a lot to discuss and you need to get that couch made up for tonight, big guy.”
Zeke held the door open for his wife and Mox. The look Ginny gave him as she passed assured the couch was too good for him.
The drive home was silent and tense. Ginny stared pointedly out the window and even Mox kept his thoughts to himself. Rhys and Garrett had been full of questions when the three of them had come out of interrogation, but the look on their parents’ faces had convinced them of the wisdom of patience for now.
When they pulled in the drive, none of them could get out of the car soon enough. Knowing an explosion was coming, the boys chose to head straight downstairs and give their parents some privacy.
As soon as the door closed on the outside world, Ginny whirled on her husband with the one word that plagued her.
“Flo?”
At his blank silence, she threw her hands in the air.
“Seriously, Zeke? Of all the skanky bike bunnies you could have wet your dick with that night you decided to fuck Flo? You are damned lucky you didn’t bring anything home to me from that filthy, rotten cunt. I’m surprised your dick didn’t explode!”
Zeke winced at the filth highlighting the true fury his wife was in. She hated that word.
“I didn’t fuck Flo.”
“So you are telling me that your jizz just miraculously jumped into that bitch?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Ginny.”
“You are preaching Immaculate Conception and I’m being ridiculous? You’ve always had a God complex, but this is taking things a bit far don’t you think?”
“I’m not talking about Immaculate Conception. She must have gotten a hold of it somehow. A used condom or something …”
“Jesus, Zeke,” Ginny spat in disgust. “The turkey baster defense is the best you got?”
“All I’m telling you is that I don’t remember ever fucking Flo.”
“You wouldn’t remember your dick if it wasn’t attached!” Ginny screamed, the pain raw in her voice.
Zeke hung his head, rubbing tiredly at the back of his neck.
“What do you want from me here, Gin?”
“I want you to keep it in your God damn pants!”
“It was twenty years ago. Done is done, Gin. How do we move on from here? Tell me how to fix this.”
Silence hung between them. Ginny wrapped her arms around herself, rubbing warmth into her numb body. He reached for her as she turned away and she flinched from his touch, holding out a warning hand.
“I don’t know. Just leave me alone for now,” she choked out.
“Gin…” Zeke’s voice cracked with the strain.
Shaking her head, she waved him away, tears starting to fall. Backing blindly down the hall, she groped for the door handle to the master suite. The door shut softly behind her, but the click of the lock rang with finality.
Mox fought to breathe around the lump in his throat. Stuffing clothes into a sports equipment bag, he tried to block out the low rumble of Zeke’s voice in the next room. The disbelief and anger on Rhys’ face when Zeke had started to explain, had felt like a kick in the gut. He had to get out of here. He couldn’t stand seeing hatred and disgust in Rhys’ eyes.
Pausing in the doorway, he took one last look around the bedroom. He would leave the rest of the stuff here. All stuff they had bought him. Before coming to live with the Brawer’s his things had fit in a couple laundry baskets and his bed had been the couch. His mother had always had a love affair with clothes and their second bedroom had quickly become her walk-in closet.
He smiled, remembering camping out on Rhys’ floor when he first started staying, the two of them draping blankets over furniture to fashion a tent. It hadn’t taken long for Ginny to put in bunk beds. When they had started outgrowing the bunk beds, she had tackled the project of renovating the full basement. Complete with three bedrooms, a full bath with two shower stalls, refrigerator, and a mammoth family room, it was the ultimate man cave. It was heaven, and more importantly, it had become home. Shaking his head, he slipped out of the bedroom and up the stairs.
His eyes were drawn down the hall as he crossed the living room and his step faltered. The door was still closed. He knew he should just leave, but a part of him needed to make sure Ginny was okay. His heart ached as he inched down the hall. Resting his forehead against the solid wood, he tried to pull it together for her.
“Gin?”
Ginny closed her eyes to the pain in Mox’s voice. As shitty as she felt right now, what must be going through his head? Swiping a sleeve across her face, she peeked in the mirror as she crossed to the door. Pressing her forehead to the wood in an unconscious mirror of the young man she loved, she took a deep, steadying breath and tried to smile as she opened the door.
“What’s wrong, baby?”
One look at the bag over his shoulder and her composure shattered. Arms went around his waist and her broken whisper was muffled in his chest.
“Nooo.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Baby, none of this is your fault.”
“Don’t be mad at Zeke. This is her fault. She always wanted what you had. She’s such a stupid, greedy little bitch.”
A sad smile twisted Ginny’s lips as she stroked Mox’s cheek.
“Zeke isn’t blameless. I’m not buying the turkey baster theory. He might not remember the night, but you are living proof it happened.”
“I know. I won’t blame you if you never want to look at me again,” Mox mumbled, tears starting to roll down his cheeks.
“Oh honey. That’s not ever going to happen. I love you. I always have. Now I just have even more reason. Regardless of his faults, I love Zeke and you’re a part of him the same as Rhys and Garrett.”
“I just wish you could be my ma too.”
“I am baby. I told you. I might not have given birth to you, but I couldn’t love you more if I had. With the hellish labor both of them put me through, I should love you more.”
Mox grinned at Ginny’s demented giggle.
Sobering, Ginny hugged her big ox again.
“Everything is going to be okay, baby. I know it doesn’t seem like it now, but it will work out. I promise. Now, why don’t you go put …”
Ginny’s words were interrupted by thundering feet on the stairs and Garrett’s yell of,
“Maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! Mox is …”
Rounding the corner, he froze only to be jostled rudely by his older brother’s arrival on the scene.
“Right there,” Rhys finished for him.
Shaking her head, Ginny gently pushed Mox down the hall towards them.
“Go put your clothes away and you two make sure he does. Try that running away shit again and Zeke will put a boot in your ass. You, I need to talk to.”
All three boys gaped at Zeke. Nodding, he shouldered his way through the pack, following his wife into the bedroom and closing the door in their wake.
Zeke waited as she stared out the French doors to the deck. Apprehension twisted in his gut. Ginny was as passionate in her anger as she was in love. Silence was not her style.
“I’m not letting that bitch destroy my family.”
A little of the tension left his shoulders and he met her gaze when she turned.
“I grew up understanding that this is a man’s world and went into our marriage with my eyes wide open. I’ve never had any delusions you were a saint, but I’ve kept my mouth shut and head high. You let this one slap me in the face and I resent that.”
“It was a long time ago. I would like to think I’ve gotten a little smarter over the years,” he said, offering her a lopsided half grin. When the shadows didn’t lift from her hazel gaze, his head dropped and he ran a rough hand over his nape. When he looked up, she could read the sorrow in his eyes. “I love you, Gin. You and the boys are my whole damn world. Without you …” he cleared his throat. “I promise you that nothing like this will ever hurt you again.”
Staring him in the eye, Ginny mulled over her husband’s apology. It was the best she was going to get. With a nod she brushed past him.
“I’ll start dinner.”
“We can go out,” Zeke offered, stopping the door with a hand over her head.
“I’m not ready to face the rest of Trinity tonight.”
Zeke hesitated, the pain and quiet dignity in her voice driving a stake into his heart. Slowly he removed his hand, allowing her to leave. She closed the door on her way out and he blew out his breath. Walking to the French doors, he gripped the wide crown molding above, staring unseeing out the windows. The ox was his son. Truthfully he had stopped thinking of Mox as anything else years ago. Even before the kid had moved in with them full time he had been there more often than not. Everything from meals to vacations had been planned for five. He was a good kid, a son to be proud of.
A son to be proud of, the words bit deep. He had treated Mox with the same gruff tough love he had the other two, yet how many times had he groused about the extra mouth to feed or raising someone else’s kid, joking or not? On too many occasions he had pointed to the door and told the kid if he didn’t like the way things were run in their household, he could go home. All those things were coming back to bite him in the ass now. As surely as all this was coming to his mind, Mox’s mind had to be racing, resentment festering. The boy wasn’t any more likely to buy his claim that he didn’t remember sleeping with Flo than Ginny was. He couldn’t blame them. He didn’t believe it himself.
Flo … It just didn’t make sense. She had been the epitome of easy in high school, bordering on desperate. He’d avoided her at his horniest. Why in the hell would he have slept with her when he had Ginny at home? The Lords had thrown some really wild parties in those days and there had been times he hadn’t been a saint. Ginny knew that. This was different. He hadn’t always known their names, but before today he would’ve said that if he was drunk enough not to remember who he screwed, he was too far gone to do the deed. That obviously wasn’t the case. Mox was living proof that it only took once, and damn he hoped it had only been once.
Dinner was a tense affair. Ginny kept her gaze averted, seemingly fascinated with pushing food around her plate. Zeke shoveled his in mechanically, tasting nothing. The three boys excused themselves as quick as possible, making an escape back to their man cave. When Zeke was finished, Ginny cleared the table, woodenly scraping leftovers into the garbage disposal and rinsing plates to fill the dishwasher. When she was done, she snagged a bottle of wine from the rack and a single goblet before disappearing into the bedroom.
Lighting a cigar, Zeke leaned back in his chair, trying to ease the throbbing at the base of his skull. Sooner or later he was going to need to sit down for a man to man with Mox, but for now he was more concerned with his marriage. Despite Ginny’s assertion that she wouldn’t allow Flo to ruin their marriage, he was under no delusions all was copasetic again. He had screwed up plenty of times in twenty years, but this time was in a class all of its own and he had no idea how to fix it.
She was hurt, and beyond that, humiliated. When this got around Trinity, and it would, Ginny would be the one to face the stares and whispers. Men will be men. It was a man’s world she had said. He would garner sneers or snide comments from the brave few, but Ginny would be the one judged lacking, unable to keep her husband satisfied, and too blind to know she was raising her husband’s bastard. Ginny didn’t deal well with genuine sympathy; pity was out of the question. How in the hell did he shield her from that?
There was nothing Flo enjoyed more than a chance to take a shot at Ginny. This was going to be ugly. Why hadn’t she thrown this in Ginny’s face before? She had to know they’d had sex and that the timing for the pregnancy would be right. How many times had people questioned Mox’s parentage, hell, how many times had he? Yet, no one had guessed Zeke. Looking at the Ox’s Senior picture on the dining room wall they all needed their head examined. The broad face staring back at him could have easily been his own at that age. The only thing missing was the flattop. Mox looked more like him than Rhys did. How could they have been so blind?