Riveted
Page 73

 Jay Crownover

  • Background:
  • Text Font:
  • Text Size:
  • Line Height:
  • Line Break Height:
  • Frame:
I ground my teeth together and when my voice made it past the lump in my throat it sounded like sandpaper scraping over razors. “I was scared. I was scared something was going to happen to you, to Dalen … to Elma. Everyone I ever cared about went away and it really fucking hurt. I thought it would be easier if I was the one that went away. I took myself somewhere where things are always bad so when shit went south it wasn’t a surprise. It didn’t feel like my heart was getting ripped out of my chest because over there …” I shook my head. “Bad is all you know.”
I sighed and lifted up a hand so that the moonlight made my skin glow. There was always a light in the darkness if you opened your eyes and looked for it.
“It took longer than I would have liked but you’re finding your way to where you need to be, son.”
I was but that was only because one perky redhead had burst into my life and lit the way. I threw my head back, not thinking about the fact I was still on two legs of the chair, and gave a surprised shout as the entire thing started to topple backwards. The sky swirled starry and black before my eyes as I braced for the impact of my head hitting the hard wooden surface of the deck.
But my fall was halted mid-crash by a strong hand on the back of the chair. Like it and I weighed nothing Jules latched on to the back slats of the chair and hauled me back to a seated position.
I looked at him out of the corner of my eye and watched as he bent down to pick up his cigar.
“Thanks … Dad.” The man had never let me down, never let me fall, and he refused to let me be less than the man he’d raised me to be. It’d taken almost thirty years, two moms, a little brother, and realizing that even though I didn’t want to and was terrified of it, I was falling in love with a girl that I didn’t want to hurt more than I wanted to protect myself to get the words out of me. With him, I’d never had to earn the title of son. I was a real asshole for ever making him feel like he needed to earn the title Dad. It was who he had been the minute he entered my life.
The cigar quirked between his lips, and in true Jules fashion, even though what had just happened was monumental and life changing, he acted like it was no big deal.
“Anytime. Sometimes you gotta let your kids fall and remind them that you’ll be there to pick them up. And sometimes you gotta step in and keep them from hitting the ground in the first place.”
There was one fall he couldn’t prevent or help me up from. That was the fall that had started when I walked into the bar and felt the warmth of the sun after what felt like a lifetime spent in the frigid cold. Slipping, sliding, skidding, tripping, tumbling, flailing … falling into love with Dixie Carmichael.
Dixie
I was surprised that I was up and ready to go before Church the next morning. I’d felt him leave the bed sometime last night but hadn’t awoken when he returned. It was the best feeling in the world to wake up sheltered in his arms, wrapped up in his strength like he didn’t have any intention of letting me go. The feeling was quickly chased away by the disappointment that all too soon he wasn’t going to simply let me go, he was going to push me away.
Not wanting to wake him I took my time sliding out of his grasp and almost couldn’t make a clean escape because the more I moved the more his hand tangled in my hair where it was caught. He mumbled something in his sleep and eventually rolled to his side, his normally fierce expression softened in sleep and making him look almost approachable … almost.
I snagged a pair of jeans and a tank top from my meager wardrobe and tiptoed into the bathroom to get dressed and tame my hair for the day. I could hear the other Churchill men up and about when I was done brushing my teeth, so I wandered into the kitchen, where the sounds of masculine chatter and early morning preparations for the day were coming from. Jules was at the stove flipping pancakes and telling a sullen-looking Dalen that there was no time like the present for him to learn that actions, no matter how insignificant they may seem, all had consequences. Dalen was grumbling under his breath about how the game this weekend was vital to the team, and Jules flatly informed him that next time he decided to skip school he might want to consider who else he would be letting down if he got caught breaking the rules.
I took a seat at the counter on one of the high-backed stools next to Church’s younger brother and gave him a sympathetic look. His eyes were a startling shade of purple with a halo of yellow and green on the outside. The cut in his lip had scabbed over but the skin around it was still red and angry-looking. The scrape on the side of his head looked sore and the bandage he had slapped over it was doing little to camouflage the damage. I bumped his shoulder with my own and gave him an “Ouch.”
He returned with a lopsided grin that made him wince. “Yeah. Getting out of bed this morning wasn’t any fun, but Dad is still insisting we meet with the coach and the principal.” He narrowed his eyes at his dad’s back and pouted with pure teenaged ire.
It made me laugh and had Jules turning to look at me over his shoulder with a knowing grin. “Dash said you aren’t typically an early riser, so I only made enough for the human garbage disposal sitting next to you, but I can whip up a couple more if you’re hungry.”
I shook my head but gladly took the mug of coffee Dalen poured for me and pushed my way. “I think I’ll go and see if Elma needs help with breakfast. She has her first physical therapy session today, and I want to be around for moral support.”
Dalen lifted an eyebrow at me and then groaned when the action pulled at his bruised face. “You’re like a cheerleader for things that happen in real life.”