Obsessive Compulsion (26 page)

It shocks me to hear my own mental voice
arguing against the blame I would normally accept without question.
I think it’s time I really did stop running and learned to stand up
for myself.

Mom’s eyes go wide and my dad’s mouth hangs
open for a second, but I hold up my hand before he can say
anything. “I know what you’re thinking, and trust me, I had those
exact same thoughts going through my head, too. But, there’s no
dungeon or blacked-out windows. It’s more like a country club,
really, except they don’t play golf.”

“Pumpkin, I can’t rightly describe the
thoughts going through my head at the moment.” My daddy’s face
looks a little dazed. He also looks a might bit angry.

“Daddy,” I sigh, “that’s why Brandon hasn’t
told you yet. He knew it’d be asking a lot for you to understand
our lifestyle choice.”

“Our?” My momma highlights my slip with
another loud gasp. “Charlotte! Are you…
involved
with… with…
that?!
”

I guess I am, and maybe it’s time I took
ownership of it. “I am, and so is Ian.”

“Me, too,” Emma adds. “We’re a family that
supports each other. It’s about sharing, teaching and learning.
It’s about community. It’s
not
wrong,” she raises her chin
again to stare off with my dad, “and it’s
nothing
to be
ashamed about.”

“B-b-but,” my momma’s mouth appears to be
broken.

Reaching over, I put my hand on her knee.
“Momma, I love Ian and Ian loves me, unconditionally. Just because
we choose to do this on the weekends doesn’t change who we are.
It’s something we share. It’s no different than… than going square
dancing together.”

She blinks at me and I laugh. “Okay, so it’s
a little different than square dancing, but it still doesn’t change
who we are.” My eyes move to my dad. “It doesn’t change who Ian
is.”

My dad stands and paces the room once.
Twice. Then he stops, hands fisted, and looks at me. “Is that why
you lost your job?”

The second shoe drops with a loud,
ear-splitting thud. “Yes, I think so.”

His eyes darken. A storm’s coming. “So,
you’re willing to risk everything – everything you’ve worked so
hard for – for some
club
?”

Standing up, I match his stance. “No. I’m
willing to risk everything for Ian and my second family.”

“Our family.” Emma stands beside me, taking
my hand. “John, Carol – I know I can’t always show that I love you,
but I do. I’m grateful to you for everything you have ever done for
me. I also love Brandon and my other family. Ian, Austin and
everyone else. Everyone at that club.”

“They depend on secrecy exactly because of
the way you’re reacting right now,” I add. “And for the same reason
I lost my job.”

No, that’s not true. Ian’s right. I’m not to
blame for that, and neither is he.

“Hell, I didn’t
lose
anything! My job
was taken away from me unfairly because some stuffy Dean disagrees
with my lifestyle choice, as if it’s any of his damn business!”

“But, Charlotte,” Daddy is trying to find
some reason to hold on to that will let him talk me outta what he
thinks is wrong. “It’s just not right!”

“Why?” I argue right back. “What’s wrong
about it? I’m a grown woman, Daddy! You just said this mornin’ that
I’m a strong woman you were proud of. Does doin’ this make me any
less strong? Does it make you less proud a’ me? Does lovin’ Ian and
sharin’ this with him take all that away?”

“No, but, dammit, it’s just…” His hand
passes roughly through his hair.

“Does it make Ian a bad person?” I continue
while I’m still fired up. I’ve never yelled at my daddy before, but
I’m not gonna back down about this. I know Emma’s right. There’s
nothing to be ashamed of. “Has he suddenly lost your approval
because we’re a little different?”

“Now, that’s not fair,” he huffs.

“Why?” I push further as he starts to back
down. “I think it’s a fair question. Are we gonna be judged because
of the way we spend one night a week? Because of the way we choose
to love each other?!”

“You’re my little girl!” He’s yelling now,
too.

“And that’s never gonna change, Daddy!” I
yell right back.

“Are you happy?”

Momma’s question stops our argument and we
both look at her. I can tell she’s trying to take it all in, but
she’s managed to ask the most important question. I give her the
only answer I can – the one straight from my heart.

I kneel down in front of her chair and take
her hand in mine. She’s looking at me like she always has, as if
I’m the most precious thing in the world, but there’s something
else there now. It’s like, for the first time, she’s seeing the
woman I’ve become, and she’s doing her best to accept all that I
am.

Beyond the worry, all I see is unconditional
love. “Momma, I’m happier than I’ve ever been.”

She looks into my eyes for a long moment,
determining the truth of my words, then nods. “Then, that’s all
that matters to me.” She glances up at Daddy with a stern edge to
her voice, daring him to argue. “That’s all that should ever matter
to a parent, right sweetie?”

My daddy’s mouth opens and closes a few
times, but I can see his puffed up chest deflating. The anger in
his eyes cools, but the worry is still there. “But, Carol… I just
gave that boy my
blessing
. Are you okay with that?”

My heart stops.
Blessing
? Blessing
for what, exactly?

“I have to be, John,” my momma replies,
“because blessing or not, Ian is a good man and Charlotte loves
him… and when he asks, you and I both know what her answer will
be.”

Oh, mercy
. The room spins and my ass
is back on the couch, Emma guiding me down while Momma pats my
knee. Ian must’ve asked my daddy’s permission to propose.

“I…” Daddy’s voice wavers. He lets out a
harsh sigh then he’s heading back to the kitchen and out the screen
door. “I got some thinkin’ to do.”

Momma frowns as he departs but offers me a
smile. “He just needs time to take it all in, that’s all. He’s
ornery and old. Set in his ways, like me. I don’t approve of it,
for either of my two little angles, but I can also see you’re both
not little anymore. As women, you have every right to make your own
choices about your bodies, just as long as they’re being
respected.”

“They are,” Emma answers when all I can do
is open and close my mouth. “There are rules, and it’s all about
respect, trust and love. Would you like me to tell you about
it?”

My momma reluctantly agrees, but their
conversation fades to unheard murmurs. My heartbeat is drowning out
their voices as it thumps a joyful rhythm, refusing to let anything
come between it and the idea of Ian getting down on one knee for
me. The chained pendants around my neck have already declared the
desire for that dream.

I do want my daddy’s support, and I want him
to approve of Ian because Ian deserves it, but Momma’s right.

When Ian asks, I know what my answer will
be.

Back where it all began – the shoe factory.
It’s Christmas Eve morning and the partially-framed factory
interior is cold, empty and dimly lit. Brandon and I are seated
under the skylights, waiting to put this mess to some kind of end.
We aren’t exactly sure how this is about to go down, but if we’re
lucky, Forester will take our offer. If not, then going back to
Oklahoma tonight may not be an option.

I let out a soft sigh, my eyes raising to
the skylights as raindrops ping and patter in syncopated beats
against the acrylic panes and the metal roof. Brandon and I need to
get back to Oklahoma just as much as we need to get this shit with
Forester squared away. Our check-in call to Charlotte and Emma last
night included some news we had not expected, and now we need to
get back up north to help set it right.

“It’ll work out,” Brandon offers over the
rim of his paper coffee cup.

“We should’ve told John,” I look back down
to the empty factory. “
I
should’ve told him before asking
for permission to marry his daughter.”

Brandon huffs with a tight smile. “I’d like
to see how that would’ve gone.”

I shoot him a glare before I can stop it,
and he holds up a hand in apology before speaking. “Look, I get
that John and Carol might have issues with it. I also don’t think
it’s any of their business, but I understand why Emma and Charlie
told them. They musta thought to worst a’ us after we ran outta
their house last night.”

I disagree and agree with him at the same
time. I don’t think John has any right to stop Charlotte from
living her life and doing what makes her happy, but I also know he
wants the exact same thing I want. He wants Charlotte to be safe.
“They just want to make sure their girls are being taken care of
properly.”

“My wife is my number one priority, always,”
a tinge of anger seeps into Brandon’s voice. “I’d drop the club in
a heartbeat if I thought it was a problem.”

“I know,” I curse, running a hand roughly
through my hair. “But Charlotte isn’t my wife yet. Hell, she’s not
even my fiancée, thanks to Forester and this mess. I was really
hoping to have her dad’s approval and support. My father probably
won’t give a shit about my wedding.” I inhale a shaky breath as my
left hand twitches. “My relationship with her father is important
to me.”

“I’m sorry,” his anger deflates. “You know
how much I appreciate all the help you’ve given me with the club,
but if you want out for the sake of Charlotte, you know I’d never
hold it against you.”

I’ve always known that. The club is
important to Brandon, but I know his friends and family have always
come first. “I’m not ready to give up on the club, Charlotte or her
father. I may not be able to have all three, but Charlotte and I
will figure it out together.”

“Sounds like a good idea,” Brandon grins for
a second, but the sound of the side door opening melts the grin
into a scowl. “Let’s see how your other idea works out.”

We watch Michael Forester strutting across
the cement floor, his eyes dancing around our renovation progress.
Behind him, Austin enters with a scowl that puts Brandon’s to
shame. I think, if we hadn’t called him, Austin may have beat us to
Michael and then beaten Michael to a bloody pulp.

Forester stops and stands in front of us
with his arms crossed and a smugly amused expression. He flicks his
chin towards Austin. “You need to teach your jailbait ‘Spic some
manners, Peters.”

Austin’s fists clench with muttered Spanish
insults, then his cold, grey eyes raise to Forester. I know Austin
is a gentle soul, but there’s only so far towards the edge that you
can push a person before they turn around and start fighting back.
“You’re lucky my boss called me first,
hombre
,” he sneers
the Spanish word. “They’ve got a nice bed saved for you at General
right next to Saul, and he’d be more than happy to help you get
situated.”

“Ah,” Michael waves the threat off. “I heard
Saul ran into some trouble. Bar fight, was it? It’s a shame he’s
fallen off the wagon again after… What? Six years sober?”

“Bastard,” Austin lunges as Brandon stands
with arm raised to hold him back. “You no-good, spying, cheating
son of a bitch!”

Brandon whispers something into Austin’s ear
and the man calms slightly, but a hate-fueled inferno keeps his
muscles tense and his face contorted with rage. I want to plow my
fist through Forester’s smug grin just as badly, but we have to
keep our heads on straight if we want to have any chance of this
ending tonight.

Michael ignores Austin completely and eyes
Brandon. “I thought you called me here for business, Peters. It’s
Christmas Eve, for fuck’s sake. I have two girls waiting for
me.”

I snort. “Candy-Cane and Debbie Diamond will
have to wait for your dollar bills a little longer.”

“Hey, Rider,” Michael takes the empty seat
across from us with a sneer. “How’s that redhead? Still hot in all
that leather? Shame what happened, what with her losing her job
right before Christmas.”

The heat in my blood bubbles just below the
surface, but I refuse to let this piece of shit get the best of me.
“Just where, may I ask, did you see her wearing leather? And how
did you learn of her dismissal at the University?”

He starts to answer but stops, catching
himself. Instead of answering, he eases back in the chair and taps
his boot heel against the cement. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Brandon sits back down as Austin backs off a
few paces. With a deep, audible inhale, Brandon meets Forester’s
gaze. “What is it you want, Michael?”

Michael shrugs. “Peace on Earth and tickets
to the Super Bowl?”

“Quit fuckin’ around,” Brandon’s thin
patience is leaving. “We’ve got families to get back to, and I’ve
had enough of your games. What is it you want in order to end
this?”

“I want you outta my city,” he answers,
dropping the act. “I want you to take your business to San Antonio,
El Paso, fucking Boca Raton for all I care – just get the hell
outta Dallas.”

Brandon’s hand fists against his knee.
“And?”

“And get them to drop the charges against my
brother,” Michael adds. “Oh, and I think a buck-fifty thou’ should
cover all the trouble you’ve caused me.” He stops, looks around the
factory then smiles. “And I want my damn property back.”

“This factory is
ours
,” Brandon
growls back. “You tried to cheat us out of it before we could put
down a full bid, then you cut corners like you always do and lost
it.”

“I lost it because Rider can’t keep his damn
clipboard to himself!” Michael shouts back then points a meaty
finger in my face. “You think you’re better than all a’ us, with
your inspector sticker and educated attitude.
You
got them
charges levied against me the same as you got that bullshit dug up
about Matt! Did you know his wife left him? About to lose his
house, too, and it’s all your fault!”