Kristen Ashley - At Peace

I was shaking my head but Mike kept talking.

“Colt got the callout. He was the first on the scene.”

“Please, Mike,” I whispered, turning away, setting my glass on the coffee table and Mike leaned into me, setting his glass beside mine and his arms pulled me to him again.

His arms were strong, this was a better position of safety and togetherness but after hearing that about Joe, Bonnie, his son, his Dad, it totally didn’t register on me. I was trembling in a way it felt like I’d never be able to stop.

“It was fucked up. Totally,” Mike’s voice was almost a whisper. “She did time, not much, criminally negligent. Cal divorced her while she was inside. I thought it was over, least for him. I had no idea she ever came back, I can’t imagine why the fuck she would. Her comin’ back, askin’ for money, that’s not only fucked up, it’s plain cruel. His Dad was dyin’ but not dead, she essentially killed him. Her kid, shit. Her kid. Cal’s boy. Totally fucked.”

I stared at him and whispered the God’s honest truth, “Women don’t love that shit, Mike.”

He gave me another squeeze of his arms and replied, “No, sweetheart, that wasn’t what I meant. They love the broken man, the heart that bleeds, think they can fix it.”

“I had no idea.”

“Now you do, you wanna fix it?”

My eyes slid over Mike’s shoulder and I looked out his window.

That nightmare had obviously happened seventeen years ago. I hated it that Joe experienced that, it felt like acid in my veins, I hated it so much.

But I knew, the way Joe was, the way he looked, the way he acted, there were likely a lot of women before me who knew all about it and tried to fix him.

Joe just couldn’t be fixed.

A one-woman man, like his Dad, Mike said. Did everything for her. Kept her safe, tried to keep her straight and was good enough to put her in a taxi instead of slam the door in her face when she’d killed his baby and essentially killed his father.

A one-woman man, he’d just picked the wrong woman, the really wrong one.

Joe was never going to be fixed, he didn’t want to be and therefore, he never would.

“Violet,” Mike called and I looked at him.

“No,” I replied, “I don’t want to fix Joe.”

That was a lie, I did, I really wanted to, I wanted to so badly I could taste it in my mouth, feel it hollowing out my belly, like that hunger I had for him.

I just knew I couldn’t.

Mike’s hand came to my face, his fingers curving around my jaw, his thumb at my cheek, using it to bring it close so his mouth could touch mine then he gently pushed me away an inch but his hand didn’t leave my face.

“Thinkin’ I killed the mood,” he muttered.

I gave him a weak smile and agreed, “Yeah.”

“Not a bad thing, sweetheart, ‘cause I’m also thinkin’ you need time.”

My weak smile died and I agreed again, “Yeah.”

“You want me around while you take that time?”

I closed my eyes and dropped my forehead to his shoulder.

Then selfishly and stupidly, I whispered, “Yeah, Mike, I do, if you wanna be around.”

I felt his body relax against mine and he murmured, “Good, ‘cause I wanna be around.”

I lifted my head, needing the mood to shift again, not back to before but to something normal, sane, that didn’t include drowned babies or Joe’s broken heart.

Therefore I asked, “You mind if we watch a movie?”

“I’ll only mind if you don’t cuddle up to me while we’re doin’ it.”

My smile was less weak when I said, “I think I can do that.”

“Then go pick what you wanna watch.”

I kept smiling at him and started to pull away then went back to him.

“Mike?” I called when his eyes caught mine.

“You’re practically in my lap, honey,” he answered on a grin.

“Thanks for puttin’ up with my shit,” I whispered.

His face got soft and his hand came back to curve around my jaw. “I’m a slow learner, sad but true, but one thing I learned, there’re women whose shit is worth puttin’ up with and women whose it isn’t. I’m guessin’ you’re the first category.”

“I don’t know, I’ve got a bad temper,” I told him honestly.

“Then I’ll try not to piss you off.”

“That would be advised.”

He grinned, kissed me lightly again, dropped his hand from my face and said, “Go pick a movie.”

“Okay,” I replied, got up, picked a movie, Mike put it in and we cuddled on the couch while we watched it.

The movie was good and, since Mike owned it, he obviously liked it.

The best part was being tucked, my back to his front on the couch, my head on his bicep, his arm tight at my waist, our legs entwined, doing a bit of nothing, watching a movie, in a family room, in a family house, with a dog stretched at the side of the couch.

That was the best part.

And I loved it. I even had to admit I loved doing it with Mike just as I admitted that I’d prefer doing it with Joe.

But Joe didn’t cuddle and watch movies or make dinner or have a dog.

And Joe never would.

Cal was still on his deck when night had fallen and he heard Violet’s Mustang in her drive.

As if she was doing it to piss him off, she didn’t use the garage.

He stayed on the deck taking another swig of beer, which one he had no clue, he’d lost count, as he heard her side door open and close.

He stayed where he was, staring into the dark, knowing she wasn’t going to come to him that night, the first night he was home in a long time she wasn’t in his bed.

It was awhile later, he was considering getting another beer or going for the bourbon, when he heard her side door open then her keys jingle to lock it.

He waited then looked to the side when he heard her feet hit the steps to his deck.

She walked up to him and stopped by the chair Colt had vacated hours ago.

“Don’t say it,” she warned.

He had no idea what she didn’t want him to say but he replied, “Buddy, I didn’t say a word.”

She hesitated then sat down next to him, cocking her legs and putting her feet up on the railing.

She was in her clothes, a jeans skirt, tighter than the other one, in fact, it was tight all the way down the sides of her thighs, a slit up the front. She had on a little purple blouse, the neckline was wide, showed her chest not her cleavage and it was loose but cinched at her waist. She was barefoot.

He didn’t have to ask if she had a good night, not that he would have. She left at a quarter to six, it had to be close to midnight, maybe after. Plenty of time to eat and do all sorts of shit if you were having a good time. He knew what he’d be doing if Vi was at his house that long, exactly what he did do when Vi was at his house that long. He reckoned Haines wouldn’t be far off that mark, what he knew was, if Vi had let him fuck her, she wouldn’t be sitting beside him right now.

Cal didn’t want to feel relieved but that didn’t mean he fucking wasn’t.

For once she seemed happy to be silent but Cal was not.

He downed the last of the beer and dropped his hand.

“Should give Haines a clean run.”

He felt rather than saw her head turn in his direction but she didn’t speak.

“Not gonna do that, buddy,” he told his dark yard. “You might not like what we got, but I do.”

“Joe,” she said softly and when she did he wondered why they were sitting on his deck rather than in his bed.

He turned to her. “You don’t like it, you’re the one’s gonna have to end it.”

She didn’t say anything, not for awhile then she said quietly, “I’m tired, Joe.”

He turned back to face his yard.

“Then go to bed.”

She hesitated then moved but he didn’t hear her feet padding down his steps, he heard his sliding glass door open then close.

He sat where he was, staring at his yard and he did this for a long time. Then he reached down, grabbed the two beer bottles that had collected by his chair when he stopped bothering to take them in when he went to get another. He went into his house, to his kitchen, dumped the bottles in his trash and he went to his room.

Violet was in his bed. She didn’t move when he came in, didn’t move when he took off his clothes but she made a noise low in her throat and shifted when he got in bed. Then he settled on his back, she was curled with her back to him and she again didn’t move.

He listened to her steady breathing.

Fuck, she was asleep in his bed, not waiting for him, not about to turn around and have a conversation, suck his cock or ride him. She was asleep.

You wouldn’t believe how sweet it is, knowin’ at the end of the day, she’ll crawl right back into my bed, Colt had said.

Cal closed his eyes then rolled into Vi, curling an arm around her stomach and pulling her into his body, noting she was wearing one of his tees.

He smelled her hair as he bent his neck and the bridge of his nose rested against her crown.

“Joe?” she called, he’d woken her but she still sounded half-asleep.

“Go back to sleep, baby.”

“Okay,” she whispered and her body settled into his.

He didn’t know why she was there, didn’t know why she kept coming back, didn’t know, she could have a good man like Haines, why she left Haines’s house and ended her night in Cal’s bed.

And he didn’t care.

She was there.

Cal pressed into her and, within minutes, he was asleep.

I woke up, opened my eyes, lifted my head and looked up at Joe.