Show Me How
Page 37
I gritted my teeth when my jaw began to tremble, and blinked through the burning in my eyes, determined not to cry. But my voice shook with every emotion I felt, giving me away. “I have less than a week, Deacon. One week until we go back to court. I need to get my son, do you understand?” I gestured to the house with a hand. “He’s here. He’s with me, but I need him to be mine. I can’t risk messing that up.”
Confusion swept across Deacon’s face, and something close to panic filled his eyes when my voice broke on the last word. He reached out for me, and I let him pull me close as he struggled for something to say. “Charlie . . . what are you talking about?”
With how close he was to Grey, with how often they saw each other, I was sure he would have already known. “Keith. I don’t have custody of him, I never have.”
“What do you mean? Who does?”
My head slanted to the side as I tried to understand the frustration and determination that wove through Deacon’s words. “You really don’t know? Grey never told you?”
“Why would she have? If it had to do with Keith she probably knew I didn’t want to know. It’s not really a secret I don’t like kids.” When I flinched, he hurried to say, “You know he’s different.”
I blinked quickly and mentally shook away the quick stab of pain from his declaration. Like he’d said, it wasn’t a secret. “Um, my mom,” I began, and looked back up into his eyes. “Before I had Keith, she kept telling me that I wouldn’t be able to handle it, that I wasn’t ready, that I would ruin the baby’s life, that the baby would one day resent me. It was just . . . endless, and repeated every day until I believed her. Until I finally signed custody over to her. When Keith was two and Mom left, we went to court to try to change custody over to me. We had more than enough proof that my mom hadn’t ever been a fit mother anyway, but the judge said that he wasn’t sure that I was either.”
“What the hell?” Deacon growled in a dangerous tone.
“I was living in the back room of my brother’s warehouse and I didn’t have a job. I’d never gotten one because I needed to be there to take care of Keith since my mom always randomly left. The judge thought I needed to finish school and get my life in order before I was ready to get custody of Keith, and granted Jagger and Grey temporary custody until then.”
“Charlie Girl,” he whispered; his head shook subtly. “Fuck, Charlie, I’m sorry. But you’re not your mom.”
I smiled weakly. “Jagger felt like the judge helped his argument to get me to leave. So I left and finished school. I have a job, thanks to your grandma. And thanks to Graham, Keith and I now have our own place. I did exactly what the judge said, and I’m terrified that if I do one thing out of line, he’ll stop me from getting custody again. Keith is three and a half, Deacon. I want my son to be mine.”
Deacon’s hands cradled my face gently as his face dipped closer to mine. “So wrong about you,” he whispered against my lips, then pressed a feather-soft kiss there. “So damn wrong.”
I gasped against the force of his next kiss, and clung to his muscled forearms as he walked us toward the house. My back had barely touched the door before it was falling open and Deacon was moving us inside and kicking the door shut behind him.
Heat pooled low in my stomach when his mouth made a line down my throat, and cool tingles spread across my skin when he gently bit down there. The conflicting combination made me feel more alive than I had in years.
His lips replaced his teeth, but instead of continuing, he paused for a few seconds. His low laugh and voice rumbled against my throat. “Who are you today, kid?”
I blinked my eyes open, and tried to orient myself.
Before Deacon’s question could register in my mind, a soft, anxious voice came from beside us. Ice filled my veins when I heard Keith ask, “Are you gonna go to the grassy place?”
Keith, no!
All the air in my lungs came out in one fast, rough whoosh, and I shoved Deacon away from me as quickly as I could.
For once I was able to move him.
Deacon stumbled back, caught off guard by my sudden movement, but I couldn’t look at him.
Agony pierced at my chest and made it hard to pull in a breath at that innocent, innocent question.
I’d been so careful not to kiss Deacon in front of Keith the last few days, because one good-bye kiss from Deacon that first night had nearly devastated my son, and had absolutely destroyed me.
“Keith,” I said breathlessly. “When did you wake up?”
He looked up toward the ceiling for a second, then shrugged. “I donno. Deaton, are you—”
“Keith, stop!” I pled, and fell to my knees with the grief that slammed into me. I gripped Keith’s shoulders and pulled him close so Deacon wouldn’t hear the shaking in my voice. “Buddy, stop. Remember what I said? Remember? We don’t ask that. That isn’t going to happen.”
Again, it felt like my soul was grieving. I wanted to tear myself apart, rip myself away from Deacon and any man that might come into our lives in the future.
Keith’s nearly identical question on Wednesday night had destroyed me. I’d barely made it from his room to mine before I’d crumbled under my grief and the torrent of sobs.
I didn’t want to go through it again. Not now. Not when I couldn’t escape him or Deacon.
“What’s the grassy place?” Deacon asked warily, and my eyes shut in pain.
“Deacon, don’t,” I whispered my plea.
There was a pregnant pause before he asked hesitantly, “Does he want me to take him there?”
“Deacon!” I meant to shout his name, but I would have been surprised if he heard it at all. My head fell so I was staring at the ground when I said, “If I could, I would walk. Let me walk away.”
For once, Deacon didn’t push, and I was thankful for it. I felt so beaten down from the past five minutes that I didn’t know if I could get myself standing again, and I knew I wouldn’t have been able to keep it together if Deacon forced me to talk again.
I drew in two deep breaths, trying to steady myself, then looked up at Keith. “We have to go. Do you need to use the bathroom?”
He shook his head quickly, and whispered, “Mommy. I don’t want Deaton to go to the grassy place. Is that okay? Mommy, don’t make him go.”
Confusion swept across Deacon’s face, and something close to panic filled his eyes when my voice broke on the last word. He reached out for me, and I let him pull me close as he struggled for something to say. “Charlie . . . what are you talking about?”
With how close he was to Grey, with how often they saw each other, I was sure he would have already known. “Keith. I don’t have custody of him, I never have.”
“What do you mean? Who does?”
My head slanted to the side as I tried to understand the frustration and determination that wove through Deacon’s words. “You really don’t know? Grey never told you?”
“Why would she have? If it had to do with Keith she probably knew I didn’t want to know. It’s not really a secret I don’t like kids.” When I flinched, he hurried to say, “You know he’s different.”
I blinked quickly and mentally shook away the quick stab of pain from his declaration. Like he’d said, it wasn’t a secret. “Um, my mom,” I began, and looked back up into his eyes. “Before I had Keith, she kept telling me that I wouldn’t be able to handle it, that I wasn’t ready, that I would ruin the baby’s life, that the baby would one day resent me. It was just . . . endless, and repeated every day until I believed her. Until I finally signed custody over to her. When Keith was two and Mom left, we went to court to try to change custody over to me. We had more than enough proof that my mom hadn’t ever been a fit mother anyway, but the judge said that he wasn’t sure that I was either.”
“What the hell?” Deacon growled in a dangerous tone.
“I was living in the back room of my brother’s warehouse and I didn’t have a job. I’d never gotten one because I needed to be there to take care of Keith since my mom always randomly left. The judge thought I needed to finish school and get my life in order before I was ready to get custody of Keith, and granted Jagger and Grey temporary custody until then.”
“Charlie Girl,” he whispered; his head shook subtly. “Fuck, Charlie, I’m sorry. But you’re not your mom.”
I smiled weakly. “Jagger felt like the judge helped his argument to get me to leave. So I left and finished school. I have a job, thanks to your grandma. And thanks to Graham, Keith and I now have our own place. I did exactly what the judge said, and I’m terrified that if I do one thing out of line, he’ll stop me from getting custody again. Keith is three and a half, Deacon. I want my son to be mine.”
Deacon’s hands cradled my face gently as his face dipped closer to mine. “So wrong about you,” he whispered against my lips, then pressed a feather-soft kiss there. “So damn wrong.”
I gasped against the force of his next kiss, and clung to his muscled forearms as he walked us toward the house. My back had barely touched the door before it was falling open and Deacon was moving us inside and kicking the door shut behind him.
Heat pooled low in my stomach when his mouth made a line down my throat, and cool tingles spread across my skin when he gently bit down there. The conflicting combination made me feel more alive than I had in years.
His lips replaced his teeth, but instead of continuing, he paused for a few seconds. His low laugh and voice rumbled against my throat. “Who are you today, kid?”
I blinked my eyes open, and tried to orient myself.
Before Deacon’s question could register in my mind, a soft, anxious voice came from beside us. Ice filled my veins when I heard Keith ask, “Are you gonna go to the grassy place?”
Keith, no!
All the air in my lungs came out in one fast, rough whoosh, and I shoved Deacon away from me as quickly as I could.
For once I was able to move him.
Deacon stumbled back, caught off guard by my sudden movement, but I couldn’t look at him.
Agony pierced at my chest and made it hard to pull in a breath at that innocent, innocent question.
I’d been so careful not to kiss Deacon in front of Keith the last few days, because one good-bye kiss from Deacon that first night had nearly devastated my son, and had absolutely destroyed me.
“Keith,” I said breathlessly. “When did you wake up?”
He looked up toward the ceiling for a second, then shrugged. “I donno. Deaton, are you—”
“Keith, stop!” I pled, and fell to my knees with the grief that slammed into me. I gripped Keith’s shoulders and pulled him close so Deacon wouldn’t hear the shaking in my voice. “Buddy, stop. Remember what I said? Remember? We don’t ask that. That isn’t going to happen.”
Again, it felt like my soul was grieving. I wanted to tear myself apart, rip myself away from Deacon and any man that might come into our lives in the future.
Keith’s nearly identical question on Wednesday night had destroyed me. I’d barely made it from his room to mine before I’d crumbled under my grief and the torrent of sobs.
I didn’t want to go through it again. Not now. Not when I couldn’t escape him or Deacon.
“What’s the grassy place?” Deacon asked warily, and my eyes shut in pain.
“Deacon, don’t,” I whispered my plea.
There was a pregnant pause before he asked hesitantly, “Does he want me to take him there?”
“Deacon!” I meant to shout his name, but I would have been surprised if he heard it at all. My head fell so I was staring at the ground when I said, “If I could, I would walk. Let me walk away.”
For once, Deacon didn’t push, and I was thankful for it. I felt so beaten down from the past five minutes that I didn’t know if I could get myself standing again, and I knew I wouldn’t have been able to keep it together if Deacon forced me to talk again.
I drew in two deep breaths, trying to steady myself, then looked up at Keith. “We have to go. Do you need to use the bathroom?”
He shook his head quickly, and whispered, “Mommy. I don’t want Deaton to go to the grassy place. Is that okay? Mommy, don’t make him go.”
