SCARS (12 page)

              “Talk to me, angel. What’s going on?”

              “Mom had a stroke. She’s completely incapacitated. But she knows, James. She
knows.
It was in her eyes. Her face may have been still as stone but I know Georgia opened her big fat trap and blabbed it to her. There’s no telling who else she’s blabbed it to or who else she’s going to blab it to.”

              All I could see was James. Nothing else. The prospect of going to prison and losing him was too painful to contemplate. I was borderline hysterical. Which wasn’t like me. Even when I lost my shit there was a semblance of control. But my mother’s outright rejection of me was more than I could take.

              James held my face in his hands as my body shook and I could barely breathe.

              “Listen to me. Georgia will not breathe a word. Not a word. To your mother or anyone else. I have a way of convincing people that silence is the best option. I’m not going anywhere.
You are not going anywhere.
Understand?”

              “What if someone finds out? What if I go to prison? What if I never see you again?”

              “Breathe, Rayna. Breathe. I know you’re scared but you trust me right? You know I have the talent to shut even the biggest of blabbermouths up.”

              His words were rough and harsh. Desperate even. Yet in his eyes I saw compassion. I saw the need to protect me. I saw love. It was a lifeline. I grabbed onto it and clung to it for life.

              “I want to believe. I so fiercely need to believe.”

              “Then do it. Hold onto me and believe, Rayna.”

              We sat there his thumbs catching my tears, wiping them away. And in an instant the need. The raw pain. The roughness of his voice and the tenderness of his gaze crystallized into a single moment of passion and desire. The longing ache turned to scorching heat.

              I was consumed by the need to make love to the only man to ever deserve me. The desire for me. To take me as I was and love me as I offered everything up to him with a single word.

              “Yes.”

              His hold softened as he led me to his bedroom. He sat us down and ran his hands up and down my arms. His voice soft so soft and tender laced with longing and need. “Are you sure, Rayna? Are you really sure? Because if we do this, there’s no going back.”

              “I don’t want to go back, James. If I did I would have never moved in with you.”

              Fires and heat burned in his gaze as he reached into the nightstand and pulled out a condom. I trembled with anticipation. I certainly wasn’t a virgin, but I hadn’t been with a man in a decade. Not in this way. He lifted my arms, pressed my hands together, removed my shirt then made short work of my bra, lowering my arms he tossed my garment to the floor. As we both stripped down to nothing I shook harder.

              I saw his scars and he saw mine. But he was nothing but beautiful in my eyes.

              He slipped the condom on and he got down on his knees and placed his hands on my hips and buried his face at my stomach where my largest scar was. He asked no question and left a trail of tender kisses.

              A lump formed in my throat as I thought of the wound inflicted by my mother and of how long it had taken to physically heal. As James kissed it the wound seemed to seal shut in my heart. And rawness was sanded away.

              He buried his face against my stomach and murmured. “You smell so beautiful. I just want to be with you. Now. Forever. Like this with nothing to separate us.”

              He rose to his feet and he laid me on the bed. He kissed me and as he plunged his tongue into my mouth he pushed inside of me. He slid his hand down my thigh and hitched my leg over his hip. There, as the daytime streamed in on us, in the quiet of the woods, and safe from the prying eyes of gossips and those who would see us fail, the two of us became one. In mind. In body. In spirit. And when the world gave way to ecstasy it was only us. Only sensation. And only love.

Chapter Seventeen

              I woke to a loud clap of thunder and to James sitting on the edge of the bed. I reached for him since he seemed to be suffering. He was a million miles away. And with each clap of thunder he seemed to be spirited further away still.

              Grabbing my robe at the foot of the bed I slipped into it and slid up next to James.

              His body was ramrod stiff. He was pale. I noticed he was still naked and he was clutching his knees, his fingernails cutting into skin, his knuckles a stark white. I touched his skin. He was cold and clammy.

              “I can’t make it stop,” he whispered. “The war is so loud on nights like these. All I want to do is make it stop. To forget. I want to go into the kitchen I want to get out the whiskey bottle and just drink the memories away on nights like these.”

              Another clap of thunder. It had been so cold. It wasn’t as if Kentucky was adverse to spring like weather in the winter time. As for me? I was terrified of severe weather. One of many phobias I had.

              I got to my feet and looked outside through the blinds. Lightning lit up the room and a loud clap of thunder shook the trailer. I wanted to choke on my fear. But outside was a raging blizzard. I went back to James. It was not my fear I was choking on, but his. Forcing myself to remain calm I returned to him and cradled his cheek.

              “What is it you want to forget?” I asked tenderly.

              He grabbed me and pulled me in to his embrace, resting his cheek at my chest. He cleaved to me as I ran my fingers through his hair. Stroking it, soothing him as only I could.

              With each clap of thunder he jerked in my arms.

              This was terrifying for him.

              “The bombs. There were always bombs going off. And me, always lead guy in on any raids of a suspected insurgent hotbed. Some guys went numb to it. I was one of those guys. But I was always on alert. Living on the edge like that, you have to find a way to cope. Then it happened. I went in a house we believed to be hot. We charged in I took a hit. But not before getting off a shot.”

              He stopped and seemed to stare off into the distance. Such agony permeated his whole body, as he seemed to recoil from the memory alone.

              I took his hand. I knew mere words would not comfort him as some memories were just too dark, just too awful to acknowledge with pat answers. I could only be present with him. I shuddered to think what was so awful he couldn’t say it.

              “Our squadron took fire and returned fire. I wasn’t sure if I was going to live or die. When the smoke finally cleared all of my men were dead. And everyone who had been in that house was dead too. I struggled to get up. It was hard to comprehend the men I had just broken bread with that morning were gone. As if that weren’t bad enough I saw a small body, a little girl. She couldn’t have been more than four, maybe five years old. Her body was riddled with bullets. She was curled up in a ball. Her eyes were squeezed shut and…and her hands and arms were attempting to protect herself from the hail of gunfire.”

              My heart broke into a million pieces for him.

              The girl never stood a chance.

              “You know, she was probably dead before you got there.”

              He looked at me and his heartbreak was mine.

              “I can’t think like that. My whole life has been spent thinking like that. Thinking like that is what had me out on the bridge.”

              The blizzard outside was no match for the storm raging inside. Things like this, they made you doubt yourself. But it wasn’t me doubting myself in this moment. It was crisis of faith in James’ belief in himself. It was clear, he believed he should have been able to save that girl, which only echoed his belief he should have been able to save Lana, the glamorous mobster wife.

              While both deaths were raw, palpable and tragic I saw his greatest fear. His greatest fear was the same as mine. We feared losing one another. And as long as Georgia was out there we would never be fully safe from that threat.

              I couldn’t think about that though.

              It was time to be strong for James. He had been strong for me.

              “That little girl would have died whether or not you were there. Her family had taken in the wrong kind of people. Or worse, the wrong kind of people forced their way into the little girl’s life. Her death is not on your head.”

              He said nothing then grasped my hand in a vise-like grip.

              “Promise me, if you think someone is coming for me, you won’t try to protect me from it, Rayna.”

              I hesitated. I would never let him take the fall for anything. Not even his own crimes. His past was what it was as was mine. The deal went both ways. I couldn’t give a blanket statement to him, not to shield or protect me.

              “I said promise me,” he demanded.

              “No, I can’t do that. Any more than I could ask you to do the same where I’m concerned.”

              “You don’t understand. Your past sends you to jail. Mine brings killers to our front door. Why do you think I live like this? Out here in the wild? Off the grid? Away from polite society?”

              I squeezed his hand back and gazed at him head on. “I love you, James. That means when push comes to shove I’m your number one and you are exactly that for me. That means evil sisters, hitmen, and ghosts, the law whatever comes at us we face together.”

              His knee shook uncontrollably as the thunder snow continued.

              I remembered Denny’s and my house. I released his hand and allowed my robe to fall to the ground. I took there offering my body to him. He took my hands and led me to the shower. He got in first and turned on the water. I stepped in watching him as the water cascaded over his shoulders and down his back.

              The water was scalding hot. And like a child he began sob. Hard, soul breaking, heart- shattering sobs. Cries that tore out his insides and ripped open mine. I stepped up behind him, pressing my body to his. I wound my arms around him and pressed my hands to his chest. And then the sound left his body and he shook and shuddered with soundless pain. He took my hands and laced his fingers through mine.

              There in the shower he grieved.

              He grieved the child on the ground.

              He grieved his friends.

              He grieved the life he had been chosen. But through it all he chose to love me. And I him.

***

              When I walked through the door of my house with Ellen she had Starbucks coffee and a diabetic friendly feast on tap for the two of us. Our traditional tree was up, gifts were under the tree and our stockings were hanging from our stocking hooks.

              She had my favorite scented candles burning, apple cinnamon, and the house was lit up like a tacky version of any good white trash holiday. We threw our arms around one another. We talked every night but with the new relationship on my part and her new job we hadn’t seen much of each other.

              I picked up the Santa style bag and placed it under the tree.

              “I have to say, co-habitation looks wonderful on you. You’re positively glowing.”

              “I’ve really missed you though.”

              “Sit, the ham is still cooking.”

              On the table was a feast. One that would be tasty and healthy.

              “Is someone else coming? This is a lot of food. And there’s a third plate set. Is there someone in your life now too?” I had to admit I felt a little upset. I had really been looking forward to this time with Ellen I missed our girlfriend time.

              “No. I just felt like since it seemed like James was going to be a permanent fixture in your life I should make room for him in our world.”

              I was stunned. Happily so. It had been a month since I found James on the bridge.

              “I know I’ve been resisting it. Thinking he was bad for you. And who knows maybe he is. All I know is I haven’t seen you this happy in forever. When you described your first time with him all I could think was what a man. He’s treated you right. So in spite of any preconceived notions I might have about the untraditional way you two met I think it’s time that I accept this person who has opened your heart back up after all this years.”

              “When is he going to be here.”

              “The ham still has a bit to go before it’s really ready. And I did want some girlfriend time with you.”