CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
JJ—
“Come with me, Becca.” I take the broken ornament pieces from her hand, put my arm around her shoulders, and lead her up the porch steps and into the cabin.
I sit her on the couch. “I’ll be right back.”
Locating the bottle of wine that we picked up the last time we were out, I pour two glasses and return to the living room, holding one out to her.
“I know we were planning to save this for opening day, but I’ll get another bottle for that.”
She accepts the glass and takes a small sip.
Sitting next to her, I lay a hand on her knee. “I think you need some chill time. You’ve been working so hard for the past six weeks. It’s been a lot, and it’s no wonder if you feel overwhelmed.”
“You don’t think I’m in over my head, do you? Is it a silly idea that I could handle all this if you decide to sell your half? Do you think I actually have the capabilities to run the place, or am I being foolish?”
“Whoa. Where did all that come from? I mean, I know I’ve been an asshole, but have I made you feel this way?”
She shakes her head.
“Rebecca, I don’t think any of that is true. You’re not in over your head; it’s not a silly idea to want to run this place, and you definitely are a capable woman.”
“Thank you. It means a lot to hear you say that.”
“Who filled your head with all that bullshit?”
She plays with her ring, drawing my eyes, and I know without a word my answer.
“My fucking brother. Right?”
She nods. “I suppose so. He never thought much of my abilities. He’d always laugh at any ideas I had, like they were all silly or a joke.”
“That was just a way to keep you down.”
That gets me a frown. “What do you mean?”
“You know, babe, let me tell you how my brother treated me. I was made to look like I did all these bad things, and my parents thought I was the black sheep, so I guess I started to live up to their expectations.
“I was pissed they always favored David and that they never—not a single time—took up for me. It changed how everyone treated me. That gets to a kid, and yeah, I’ll admit, I carry a lot of baggage from it.”
“I’m so sorry, JJ.”
“It’s hard for me to talk about it, even now. I hate I was that weak and vulnerable to my brother.”
“You were just a child.”
“Yeah, and I carry that child inside me to this day—the one who was used and broken until I couldn’t take it anymore. It’s why I left home when I was a teenager.”
“What happened then?”
“You sure you want to hear all that?”
She nods.
“I was living on the street for a while. Hitchhiked to Birmingham. Met the guys in the club. I sort of fell in with them and started hanging around. They took me under their wing, and I thank God every single day they did so.”
“Took you in… What does that mean?”
I shrug. “They gave me a room to stay in and fed me. In exchange, I used to clean the clubhouse and do all the bullshit grunt jobs just like a prospect, but I wasn’t allowed to be a prospect until I was eighteen.”
“Was that just as bad as your home life?”
“Not at all. I loved it. Yeah, I did the crap jobs, but they gave me a roof over my head, and food in my belly, and in a weird way, even though I wasn’t a patched brother, I felt like they had my back like I was a little brother. In a way, they became my family.”
“Your found family,” she murmurs.
“Exactly.”
“Then I’m glad you found that,” she whispers.
“Tell me about your marriage. Did David do to you the same shit he did to me? I hope not, because I know exactly what that was like.”
“I’ve never talked about my marriage. Not to your parents, not to mine, not even to my sister.”
“Babe, I’m the one person who knows what David was like. The one person who won’t doubt a thing you tell me. I see through your pain, and I know, because I’ve been there.”
She nods, but stays quiet.
I nudge her. “Becca, talk to me.”
She draws a deep breath, then begins. “He treated me the same as some of what you described. Everything was his way. Everything was what he wanted. He never listened to my dreams. It was never about me. Not once. Except when we were in front of your parents. Then he acted the part of a devoted husband, but it never lasted longer than the ride home.”
“Did my parents know?”
She shakes her head. “I never let on, because, like you said, they thought he was perfect.” She blows out a breath. “It feels good to let all that out. Like a weight has lifted.”
“I get that. It’s hard to share the un-shareable.” I sip my wine. “I’m glad you told me, though. I suspected most of it.” I swallow. “There’s one thing I’ve got to ask you, Becca.”
“What’s that?”
“Did he ever hurt you? I mean physically. Did he ever lay a hand on you?” Everything inside me stills and tenses, waiting for her answer. I hate that she went through even a portion of what I did, and fury surges through me. My hand tightens into a fist.
“The type of pain David inflicted was all emotional.”
I feel the tension seep out of my body slowly. “I hate that he put you through that, but I’m glad he never did worse.” I flex my fist. “If he had, and he were still alive, I’d beat him bloody for you.”
She shakes her head. “That’s not what I want.”
“It’s the way the club takes care of guys like him. Brother or not.”
Rebecca’s phone goes off, and she reads the incoming text.
“Unbelievable,” she whispers.
“What is it?”
“Your mother is asking if I’m coming for Thanksgiving.” She taps out a reply and puts her phone down.
I stare at her. I don’t want to pressure her to tell me or appear to judge her either way, but I can’t help it and the words spill out. “You goin’?”
“Of course not. Not after the other day. I’m done with them.”
“Rebecca, you don’t have to be done with them on my account. Just because I don’t get along with them doesn’t mean you can’t still have a relationship with them if that’s what you want. You don’t need my permission.”
“I know I don’t. But after what was said, I have no desire to go over there. Maybe that will change with time. Maybe at some point we can get past it, but not by Thursday.”
“I get that.” The corner of my mouth pulls up. “The clubhouse always does a big Thanksgiving. You want to go there?” I make the offer, but even I am not feeling it this year.
“Not really. Is it okay if we just hang out here? Especially with opening day the following morning. The last thing I feel like doing is driving all that way home Thursday night. We’d both be exhausted.”
“You’re right. Hanging out here, just the two of us—that actually sounds really good.” I waggle my brows. “Can we watch football?”
She laughs. “I wouldn’t dare stand between a man and his turkey day football games.”
When Thursday rolls around, we get out the takeout dinners the diner was offering for Thanksgiving and heat them in the oven. We even picked up a pumpkin pie and whipped cream.
It’s perfect for just the two of us, and I’m happy Rebecca didn’t have to do any cooking, or me for that matter.
We finish eating, then move to the couch to watch football, cuddled against each other under a blanket.
I grin at her, and she frowns.
“What are you smiling about?”
“A full belly, a beer in my hand, a pretty girl cuddled against me and football on TV. Life doesn’t get any better than moments like this.”
Her arms wrap around me, and she returns my smile. “You’re right; it doesn’t get better than this.”