Indisputable (29 page)

Jacoby pulls back the covers and gently places me in
bed.  I keep my eyes closed, but I can hear him moving about the
room.  A door opening, a rustle of fabric, light footsteps on the
carpet.  Then he’s back, and he’s slowly working off my jeans and
shirt.  I’d help, but I’m so sleepy.  I let him take care of me, even
though I should be taking care of him.  He shimmies a pair of sweats up my
legs and pulls one of his shirts over my head until it swallows my torso. 
It’s soft and warm, and smells like him.

The bed shifts as he crawls in, and then he’s moving
me into his arms again.  I scoot closer until my head rests on his bare
pectoral and his arm is wrapped around my body; his fingers running along my
shoulder.  Turning my face, I press a soft kiss to his chest.

“Sorry I woke you.  I thought this would be more
comfortable than the couch,” he says quietly. 

“I’m comfortable anywhere as long as it’s with you.”

We lapse into silence, the only sound is our slow,
deep breaths. 

“Did Trey leave?” I ask, finding it difficult to fall
back asleep now that I’m content in his arms again. 

“Yeah.  He had to get home.  He only came
over to make sure you were okay.”

“That was nice of him.”

“Mmhm.  Do you want to talk, or do you want to go
back to sleep?” Jacoby asks.  But the way he’s asking makes me feel like
he has something to say.

“I’m awake now.  We can talk if you want.”

“I thought you should know, Trey told me what happened
last night.  I didn’t want you to worry about having to tell me.  And
I’m not upset with you, Sweetheart.  I completely understand.  I’m
just so sorry I put you through that.  It was my actions that led to
yours.”

Now, I’m wide awake.  I lift up onto my elbow so
I can peer down into Jacoby’s handsome face.  My hair creates a dark
curtain around us that only adds to the privacy of the moment.  I trace
the crease of confusion in his brow with my index finger. 

“Don’t you dare say that.  Don’t take on
unnecessary guilt because of my actions.  I’m the one who couldn’t keep
calm.  I freaked out, and what I did is on me.  Not you.”

“Tatum,” he groans.  One of his large hands cups
my cheek.  “My beautiful girl.  If I hadn’t left the way I did, you
wouldn’t have worried.  It is my fault.” 

I silence him with a kiss on his lips. 
“No.  I let what happened with Wyatt get to me.  I thought the worst,
and it brought so many emotions crashing down that I couldn’t deal.  But
it isn’t your fault.  Please, don’t fight me on this, Jacoby.  It’s not
your fault.” 

His deep brown eyes flick back and forth between my
hazel ones, and I hold his stare.  I’m begging him with my eyes to believe
me and to let it go.  We can’t change what happened, but that doesn’t mean
we have to dwell on it. 

Isn’t that what our relationship has been all
about?  Both of us had issues in our past we’ve been fighting to deal
with.  Jacoby ran away from his, while I tried to cut mine away. 
Literally.  But something happened when we came together.  Somehow,
the two of us, with our messed up pasts, have helped the other heal.  We
found solace in one another that we were missing when we were alone. 

“Speaking of Wyatt, did anything come about while I
was gone?” Jacoby asks, pulling me from my thoughts.  I don’t want to talk
about Wyatt, but I get it over with so we can move on and leave it behind
us. 

We lie in the bed we’ve been sharing night after
night, and I fill him in on everything that happened while he was gone.  I
retell what happened last night, even though Trey already filled him in. 
I want him to hear it from me.  Then I describe what happened this
afternoon.  His face contorts with anger even though he tries to hide it,
and I can tell he’s upset with himself for leaving me the way he did.  I
climb onto his strong body and clasp my limbs tightly around him.  His
hands slide down my ribcage to my waist, finally coming to rest on my ass.

“Let your anger go.  He’ll get what’s coming to
him.  I agreed to file a police report.”

“You did?” Jacoby asks, his eyes widening in shock.

“I did.  We’ll take care of it tomorrow morning.”

“Thank fuck,” he replies.  “That fucker will get
what’s coming to him.”

“He will.  And we won’t ever have to worry about
him again.  Mr. Stephenson believed my story.  That you and I
developed a friendly relationship after what happened.  As long as we’re
careful these next few weeks, we’ll be just fine.”

“As long as you’re by my side, I’ll be more than
fine.” 

Our foreheads touch, and our eyes are closed. 
We’re shrouded by darkness in the room, but we light up each other from
within.  I am the flame, and he is the torch.  He carries me through
the darkness, and when he’s in the dark, I light his path.

“Hey, Jacoby?”  I call through the darkness, even
though he’s right here, his hard body is beneath mine.  His hands tighten
on the spot where my hips meet my thighs, and he replies, “Yeah?”

I exhale slowly, trying to calm my jittery
nerves.  This shouldn’t make me so nervous, but it does.  I’ve never uttered
these words to another soul in my life, and the thought of rejection turns my
blood cold.  But this is Jacoby.  I don’t need to be afraid.  So
instead, I smile and place a lingering, soft kiss on his lips.

“I love you.”

Jacoby’s breath comes out as a rush, and his arms
slide around my back, crushing me to his chest.  His mouth fits into the
space next to my ear, and he whispers there, “You love me?”

“I do,” I reply.

“Say it again,” he commands, and his breathing turns
ragged. 

“I love you, Jacoby.  I think I’ve loved you all
along, but I was too determined not to see it.  You’re the first person
I’ve ever loved.  It didn’t come to me easily.  I had to fight for
it, but now that I have it, it’s mine.”  I shriek as I’m suddenly flipped
onto my back as Jacoby rolls us over.  He presses his lips to mine, but he
doesn’t kiss me.  He just holds them there, like two puzzle pieces fitted
together. 

“God, Sweetheart.  I love you, too.  So damn
much.” 

My heart sighs.  “Show me.  Make love to me,
Jacoby.” 

And he does. 

We don’t get much sleep.  We spend the night
worshipping each other’s bodies with our hands and our lips.  We tangle
ourselves beneath the soft, gray sheets until the shadows fade back into their
recesses, and the sun’s rays peek through the window.  Then we get up for
school and begin our routine, which will continue for the next few weeks, until
we are free to be together without the repercussions. 

Finding our love wasn’t simple.  It pushed our
morals and the rules of society.  It was forbidden and different, but it
was ours.  We fought against our attraction, going as far as to push one
another away when things got tough.  But we came to a point where it
wasn’t possible to fight any longer.  The battle was already won in our
favor; it was won before we even stepped onto the field.  Love like ours
can’t be ignored.  It strengthens and grows with every obstacle thrown in
its path.  It might have taken months to come to terms with our
feelings.  But in the end, there’s no denying it. 

Our love is indisputable.

Where to begin?  First of all, I need to thank my
husband.  You have encouraged me from the very beginning when my dreams were
nothing more than late night ramblings.  Those ramblings kept growing until the
first night I sat down with my laptop and began to write.  You continued to
support me through hours of helping with the kids so I could lock myself away
in my room and focus on my book.  You are my love and my life. 

My children, L & C, thank you for being a bright
spot when I was feeling frustrated.  And thank you for having the ability to
play quietly when I really needed to get something done.  Mama loves you,
babies. 

A million thanks to TOJ Publishing for my cover
reveal, blitz, release party, and a wealth of information.  A special thanks to
Kim Black at TOJ for my beautiful cover.  You have a true talent.  I don’t know
how you made sense of what I wanted from my horrible description, but it’s like
you pulled the image straight from my brain.  Besides making my cover, you have
also been a source of information and patiently answered my questions. 

Alex Grayson, I don’t even know where I’d be without
you.  As soon as I decided to publish my work, you were there every step of the
way.  I’m so glad I found you! Thank you for cheering me on and being so
supportive.  I’m lucky to have you as a friend. 

Thank you Imy Santiago for your support and
willingness to listen to my questions.  Your encouragement means the world to
me. 

Thank you to all the bloggers who took a chance and
helped me promote Indisputable.  Each time I received an email from one of you
made my day.  The kind words and encouragement were invaluable in pushing me to
keep going. 

Thank you to all my family; to thank you all
individually would take pages.  Mom, Dad, Becky, Rocky, Angela, Steve, Paul,
Amber, Joe, Michael, Antonio, Gavin, Dominic, Addy, Audrey, Kevin, Jessica, and
Kara—I love all of you.  Thank you for the supporting texts and phone calls,
and just being who you are.  My book may not be to your tastes, but you support
me nonetheless. 

And finally, thank you to my readers.  Every single
one of you who has picked up my book means the world to me.  You gave a brand
new author a chance, and because of that, I’m eternally grateful.   

A.M. Wilson fell in love with writing in second grade
when she won a young writers’ contest.  She spent the years following carrying
around a spiral notebook, which she filled with poetry and short stories
detailing the dramatics of being a young girl.  When she hit her college years,
she set the notebooks down and fell in love with reading romance novels.  She
may have attended college four separate times, in four different fields, but
always knew in her heart writing was her true passion.  She grew up in Duluth,
Minnesota and spent her summers in the cold waters of Lake Superior, but
relocated to the Twin Cities with the love of her life and has two spirited
children who make her world go round.

A.M. Wilson loves to hear from her readers.  Connect
with her on:

Facebook:
www.facebook.com/A.M.WilsonAuthor

Twitter: @AMWilsonAuthor

Blog: amwilsonbooks.wordpress.com 

Alex
Grayson

Chapter
One

Jaded Hollow, OH – 6 miles ahead

I release a sigh,
exhausted and nervous about my next stop on my long and tedious journey.

I’ve been driving since
eight this morning, with a couple of stops in-between for restroom breaks and
gas stops. It’s coming up on nine at night. I need to keep moving. I don’t want
to give
him
the opportunity to find me.
Him,
being Steven, my
worse nightmare, my worse fear, my husband. Unfortunately, I don’t have a
choice in the matter because my gas tank is running on fumes and my pocket book
is getting low. I need to find a way to make a little cash before I move on.

My arms hurt from holding
onto the steering wheel for so long and my legs are cramping from the constant
push of the gas pedal. I’m so hungry I fear my internal organs will dry up and
turn to dust due to lack of nourishment. I’m exhausted to the point where my
eyes have that sandy, papery, gritty feel and I’m worried I might dose off
behind the wheel.

Needless to say I’m ready
to get out of my cramped, beat up old car that I bought for five hundred
dollars at the beginning of my unplanned but wanted trip. All I want to do is
get a quick bite to eat, fall into bed, sleep like the dead, and not get up for
a week. I know finding a place to eat won’t be a problem. I’ve seen signs for
Maggie's Diner up ahead in Jaded Hollow, which state it is an All-night diner.
It’s finding a place to crash that will be an issue.

With about fifty dollars
to my name I can’t even afford to rent a hotel for the night. Sleeping in my
cramped car is definitely not appealing, but I have done it before and am
prepared to do it again. I just hope I can find work in this middle of nowhere
town that is to be my home for a short amount of time. Sleeping in my car for a
few nights I can deal with, but I really don't want to wake up with a crick in
my neck and cramps in my legs every day for weeks at a time until I can afford
a place to stay.

It is dark out so I can't
really see the landscape around me. From what I can see from the light of the
moon and the shine of my headlights I am surrounded by woods. The road is curvy
and there are a few small hills.

I slow my car when I
reach a wooden sign that welcomes me to Jaded Hollow, OH. It looks old and the
scene on it represents the country town I’m about to enter; a farmhouse with
silos sitting behind it and a field of corn.

I speed back up, anxious
to reach my destination. About a mile past the welcome sign I start taking
notice of my surroundings. It’s important to familiarize myself with where I’ll
be staying just in case I need to flee again. He may come for me and I need to
know where I’ll be safe.

Large houses start
appearing. The only reason I can see them is because their porch lights
illuminate the front stoops. Many of the houses are at least a couple hundred
feet from the road and sit on large amounts of land.

Further down the road bright
orange street lights dot both sides of the road. Smaller houses start popping
up on either side of the road, along with businesses thrown in here and there.
There’s a post office on one side and an outdoor shop on the other.

There’s also the Jaded Hollow
Public Library, a red brick building with a large, colorful brick book that
sits right out front. There is a gazebo that’s off to the left and a small
swing set and slide right beside it. I can picture a mother sitting in the
gazebo reading her book as a little girl swings close by. With the image in my
head, my stomach cramps and my eyes sting. I immediately push the image away
before it has the chance to cripple me.

As I slow down to a stop
at what appears to be the only red light in town, I notice a building that
houses three motorcycles and five cars. The building sits on the corner of
County Road 14 and Big Bulge Road. There are several lit advertisement signs on
the windows and front of the white building, most of which are advertising
different types of beer. The largest lit sign reads
‘Jaxon's Pub’
.

The light turns green and
I creep along. Up ahead on the left a simple red sign shows that I have finally
arrived at Maggie's Diner. There are several cars parked in front of the light
blue building.

I park my car next to an
old red pick-up truck, pull the key out of the ignition and lay my head back on
the headrest. Not only is my car running on empty, but I am as well. With a
deep breath I force myself to grab my purse and drop my keys inside. The air is
nippy when I step out of my car so I grab my gray hooded sweatshirt that shows
the Cookie Monster chomping on cookies, and slip it on.

As I approach the
entrance a man appears out of nowhere and startles me. I automatically allow my
russet brown hair to fall in front of my face on the right side. This is born
out of habit from trying to hide the hideous scar that runs from the corner of
my right eye to my ear. People tend to stare, which makes encounters
uncomfortable. So, to avoid any tense moments I learned real quick to hide
behind a wall of hair anytime I am in the vicinity of people.

I peek at him from under
my eyelashes. He looks to be in his early 30's. He wears a black hat that he
turned backwards. His hair is dark and I can tell that he keeps his hair short
by the stubble that peaks out from just below the hat by his ears. I can’t
really see from the lack of light, but it appears he has dark eyes. 
Although he sports a five o'clock shadow you can see that he keeps his face
clean-shaven. He has on a dark gray t-shirt with a black thermal shirt
underneath that covers bulging muscles. He also has on a pair of worn
form-fitting blue jeans and a pair of tan work boots. Overall, he is a very
good looking man. At another time and place I would really appreciate his
looks. But not now, I never want anything to do with a man again.

When I glance at him, he
smiles and says, “Hey, sorry if I startled you.” His voice is rough, but still
holds a smooth edge to it.

I duck my head a little
and reply. “That's okay, I'm just a little jumpy.”

He grabs the handle to
the door, opens it, and gestures for me to enter. “Ladies first.”

I notice the hand that
holds the handle has a black and blue web tattoo. It starts at the center of
the back of his hand and extends all the way to his fingers. I can’t see his
palm, but I’m pretty sure that the tattoo continues to wrap around to the front
of his hand. The webbing also wraps around each of his fingers. I briefly
wonder what the significance is but then shake my head. It’s none of my
business.

When I walk inside the
diner I notice that it looks like a traditional diner that you see in movies
and TV shows. It has a long white counter that has attached red vinyl stools
right in front of it. Behind the counter is all the kitchen equipment a
business needs to serve food and drinks; industrial stove and oven, microwave,
racks of dishes, silverware, and all the food prep. There are two waitresses
wearing red aprons standing behind the counter. One has to be in her mid 20's while
the other in her late 50's to early 60's. She has a very grandmotherly look to
her. A middle aged man and woman are sitting at the counter. 

Along the front and side
walls there are white tables with red vinyl booths. Salt and pepper shakers, a
napkin holder, and two menus sit on each table. Several of the booths are
occupied by a variety of people. One holds a young teenage couple, another a
couple of older men, and the third a lone female drinking a cup of coffee.

The walls are littered
with various pictures of people in their everyday life. One is of a couple of
kids on a swing set. Another is a black and white photo of a man and a woman
swinging on a hammock wrapped in each other’s arms. There is also an old
picture of a man and a woman standing in front of a building that looks like
Maggie's Diner a 100 years ago.

The man that startled me
walks in and the bell on the door rings when it shuts. He starts walking
towards the end of the counter where a portion of it lifts up, allowing people
to move back and forth from behind the counter. The younger waitress runs from behind
the counter and literally jumps on the guy once she reaches him. She wraps her
arms around his neck and her legs around his waist and plasters an enormous
smile on her face. Holding her up with one hand on her ass, he grabs a hand
full of hair and slams his mouth down on hers.

I hear some chuckles from
some of the patrons. The grandmotherly waitress behind the counter has a
twinkle in her eye when she says, “Alright you two, break it up. Anna, you get
back to work and you,” she says, pointing to the man, “go have a seat and I'll
bring you a nice steaming cup of coffee.”

After another minute of
tongue action the couple reluctantly break apart. They stand there staring into
each other’s eyes when the man smiles hugely. “Hey, Anna Banana.”

“Hi, Nick,” the waitress
replies in a breathy voice, her smile just as big as before. I think the
nickname he gave her is corny and sweet at the same time. You can tell these
two people are irrevocably in love. For a few seconds it makes me wish that I
could find that kind of love, but I know that kind of love is rare and not
meant for me. 

I move away from the
couple and make my way over to one of the booths in the corner. I drop my purse
on the seat, sit down, and grab the plastic menu. I’m not real picky on what I
eat, as long as it doesn’t taste like sawdust or have a beating heart. I’m
pretty desperate for any food at this point.

Most of the foods are the
same as any diner you come across. They have a large variety of breakfast
dishes, the usual hamburger and fries, several different kinds of melts, and a
select few dinner dishes, which included a roll, two veggies, and a salad.
Nothing special or out of the ordinary. They offer coffee, sweet tea, coke,
diet coke, fresh lemonade, milk, and water.

I close the first menu
and pick up the second one. This menu is different than the first. It isn’t
plastic and looks like it is just a thick sheet of paper that has pictures of
desserts printed on it. To not be laminated and around food and liquids all day
the menu is in perfect shape. There are pictures showing Kristen's Supreme
Banana Pudding, Jay's Chocolate Crinkles, Barb's Coconut Cream Swirl, Brenda's
Chocolate Cake Surprise, and Grandma Rosy's Pecan Pie.

“We have an ever-changing
dessert menu,” comes a soft and flowing voice.

I glance up, making sure
my hair covers my scar, and see the waitress that was swapping spit with the
man a few minutes ago standing by my table. “Excuse me?” 

She quirks her lips up
into a smile and says, “I noticed you looking at the menu strangely and didn't
want you to think we were so cheap we couldn't afford to laminate our dessert
menu. The menu changes every month, so there's no sense in spending the money
on laminating the menu's when they'll be tossed in the trash soon anyway.”

I glance back down at the
menu in my hand and ask, “Why does the menu change every month?”

“We have an ongoing
contest to see who makes the best desserts. Anyone in town who wants to enter
brings in a dessert sample and we pick five to sell here at the diner for the
whole month. They can either choose to give the recipe to us and we can make
the desserts ourselves or they can make it themselves and just bring it in when
we need it. At the end of the month the whole town votes to see whose dessert
was the best. The winner gets one free meal a day for the next month.”

She is a beautiful woman.
Her sandy blond hair is swept up on top of her head and has a pen sticking out
of the back. It looks like she just grabbed a hair tie on the go and quickly
pulled it back. Her face is free of makeup except for maybe a dash of blush and
a quick swipe of mascara. She has beautiful blue eyes. They are a deep blue
with a hint of a lighter blue around the outside. They kind of remind me of
what a blue moon would look like if the moon actually turned blue during its
second rare full moon of the month. The shirt she has on is a white button up
with pleats running down the sides. On the top left side, right above her
breast, is a white name tag that reads 'Anna'. She has on a pair of violet
colored skinny jeans. Her shoes are standard white Keds.

She reaches out her hand
and says, “Hi, I'm Anna.”

Not wanting to appear
rude, I settle my hand in hers. “Bailey.”

“Well, hi Bailey, nice to
meet you. What can I get for you tonight?” I can tell that she is an extremely
happy and energetic person. She smiled the entire time she talked and bounced
on her heels. I can never understand how some people are always happy and on
the go. I can never remember a time in my life when I was truly and utterly
happy. My childhood was filled with verbal and physical abuse. My one saving
grace that kept me sane while I was a child was that I could one day escape it
all. Little did I know that I would be jumping from the frying pan and into an
inferno. Actually, it was worse than an inferno, I jumped straight into hell. A
hell that scarred me, literally and figuratively, for the rest of my life. A
hell that I had no means to escape from. A hell that I was still being forced
to live in.

I release her hand and
decide on something simple and cheap for my dinner. “I'll take the burger and
fries, please.”