Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ACE
My sister had panic attacks when we were young. Her breath would come out in pants and her body would shake and there was nothing I could do about it, nothing I could do to stop it, but hold her hand and tell her to focus on one good thing. One good thing because in our lives, we didn’t have more than one. That was before, before she died five years ago, before we spent half our childhood separated, before I realized that life got no easier.
Suddenly, I didn’t feel quite as numb as usual.
I held on to the paper in my hand, trying not to create creases, but trying to wrap my mind around what I’d seen. It wasn’t Adam’s first time in a room like that. He’d gone to every appointment with my sister, always at her side. But it was mine, and my mind didn’t know how to compute that what I was seeing was real when so many things seemed to be an illusion in my life.
It’s not yours. And I fucking knew that. But even when I replayed that statement, I couldn’t help but think about how it could be, maybe a little.
So much had happened in my life over the last five years, and I was thankful I had Mercer and Adam to hang onto, but as much as I cared for them, called them my family, there was something missing. Was the squeezing in my chest trying to tell me that this child, this girl, this was it? But she was Adam’s, and I needed to remember that, even when his offer was given with such confidence.
“That was the hardest secret I’ve ever kept,” Mercer blew out as he reached forward, taking an appointment card from the receptionist.
“She told you?” Why did that anger me so much? She could have trusted me, too. But even as I thought it, I didn’t believe it. Why would she trust me when I gave her every reason not to? Trust worked both ways, and if I refused to let her touch a knife, how would she feel confident trusting me with her secrets?
“What? No.” He shook his head. “We share a bedroom wall, which can be uncomfortable. The first few weeks at the house, she was pretty ill, and she never wanted to eat anything. I don’t know. I put the clues together. I brought her prenatal vitamins, and she never denied it, so I assumed it to be true.”
How had I missed all the signs? Maybe I wanted to ignore them, just like I didn’t want to acknowledge her place with us. Maybe I still don’t. I didn’t know what I really wanted; I had mixed feelings, but what I accepted was that when Adam and the girl came out of the office, holding hands, with her tear-stained cheeks, I wanted for a second for it to me next to her, comforting her.
“Appointment made.” Mercer held up the appointment card. “I feel like this occasion deserves ice cream.”
“She’s not five.” I spoke the words without thinking, but then really thought about it. After what they just did to her, she could have anything she wants, and I’d give it to her. The lady didn’t even seem to care that she was making Bellamy wince in pain. “I mean, I could eat ice cream.”
“No,” Adam answered for her. “She’s been away from the house long enough today. I don’t want to invite danger.”
“She just had the jaws of life prying open her body. Surely, we can afford to treat her with whatever she wanted on the way home.” Was that me going against him? What the hell was I thinking? I always agreed. It was easier, and I strived to make my life easier.
“It was dangerous enough to take her to breakfast,” he reminded me, and I knew he was right. This world wasn’t a fun place to grow up in. There was danger and betrayal around every corner, and if you weren’t careful, you’d be taken out. Still, didn’t we owe it to her to treat her like she wasn’t a prisoner in our lives?
“We have the extra guards,” I pointed out.
Adam dropped her hand, and she wrapped her arms around her waist as he stepped forward, speaking low as he leaned toward my ear. “I bent the rules once for your sister and look where that left us. Do you think I would risk someone else’s life? My wife, another child, for ice cream?”
It stung that he talked to me like I had forgotten my own sibling’s death and the pain it caused him, the pain it caused us both. My voice caught. It took two swallows to get it out. “We wouldn’t let it happen again.”
“I’m not taking the chance. She’s been out for nearly three hours. It’s too long for comfort.” He stepped back, his hand going to her back to nudge her forward. “We’ll meet back at the house.”
He stepped forward, guiding the girl stiffly, and I couldn’t figure out if he wanted her or despised her. Maybe it was a little of both. I couldn’t imagine what he was feeling if seeing the child stirred something inside of me. I followed behind, quickening my steps to hand Adam the photos.
He took the paper from me, staring oddly at it for a moment, unsure what to do, before he folded it and placed it into his pocket. Then he reached forward, holding open the door for her, stopping her from going through it until I passed first. If bullets were flying, I’d be okay taking one for her. It was the promise I made to him, and now a promise I made to myself.
We waited until they were in the vehicle together before we took a seat in ours. The car hadn’t even started, the keys barely in the ignition when Mercer turned to me. “Ice cream?”
“That’s sort of a jackass move, don’t you think?” The thought of getting ice cream after Adam told her no sat heavy in my stomach, making it feel sour.
“I didn’t mean for us.” He pressed the button, turning the car on. “I meant for her. Do you want to follow them home and as soon as they are at the gate, go grab some?”
We should ask if he had any place to be, but fuck him, he didn’t ask if we did. Leaving him to spend a few minutes with his wife wouldn’t kill him. “Did you ask her what her favorite was?”
“No.” He looked over his shoulder. “We’ll just buy them all.”
I agreed, then we rode in silence until Adam’s car disappeared through the gates and into the overgrown jungle of our property. Then we continued on, not stopping until we were in front of an ice cream shop, ready to order every single flavor for a girl we barely knew, and it felt nothing like the numbness that usually consumed me. In fact, for the first time in years, I might even have felt alive.
Lady greeted us the moment we opened the front door. I reached down, offering her some pets, scratching between the beast's ears before straightening and holding the bag in my hand high. I couldn’t let her get to the bag of ice cream, despite what the pup thought. It wasn’t good for her. Behind me, Mercer closed the door, holding his own arm of ice cream away from the jumping pooch.
“This isn’t for you,” he told the dog, and she yelped her disagreement. “Bellamy!”
His voice echoed off the high ceiling. But it wasn’t Bellamy who emerged from the depth of the hall. It was Adam. His jaw was tight as he looked at us. “You disappeared.”
“Hardly,” Mercer huffed. “We got ice cream.”
“I said no ice cream,” he growled.
“No.” Mercer shook his head, always challenging Adam for the dumbest of shit. “You said she couldn’t go for ice cream, not that we couldn’t bring any back.” He paused as they had a stare off, then shouted again. “Bellamy!”
“I need to go to the office,” he informed us.
“There is an office here.” Mercer shrugged, as he toed off his shoes, leaving them by the door before he padded toward the hallway.
“I need to be in person.”
“What’s wrong?” Mercer looked over his shoulder. “Tense car ride home?”
“Fuck off.” Adam looked so offended that I was sure he hit the nail on the head.
Mercer turned, stopping right in front of Adam. “You can’t hide from your feelings forever, you know. This may seem like too much too soon for you, but fuck that, it’s what you need at the right time. You can’t sulk away for another year, living your life like a dead man. You have a new opportunity. Live a little. And for fuck's sakes, have some ice cream. No one can be mad eating ice cream.”
Adam didn’t speak, his eyes refusing to blink as he watched Mercer until finally, he caved, reached up, and took the bag from Mercer. “Go get our wife.”
Our?
That thought was laughable. We couldn’t share a fucking wife. Yet here we all were, ice cream in hand, trying to please the only female in our home like it was our job to do so.
Mercer stayed rooted in front of him for another few moments before he turned, disappearing down the hall. When he was out of sight, I raised a brow. “Our wife?”
“I didn’t say that,” he denied.
“Sure as hell did.” My steps led me toward the kitchen. Adam followed with Lady on his heels.
“I’m positive I said my,” he insisted. “Why is this dog following me?”
“You have food, and she likes you,” I stated the obvious. “She’s sweet. Try petting her sometime.”
“Petting a dog? Absolutely not.” The disgust that dripped from his words was damn near tangible. I could feel how repulsed he was by the thought.
I placed the paper bag on the kitchen island before unloading the Styrofoam cartons from it. When my bag was empty, I took Adam’s and did the same. Bellamy entered right as Adam asked, “Why the hell did you get so much? We’ll never finish this.”
“We didn’t know what flavor she liked.”
Bellamy’s eyes went wide as she looked at the cartons of ice cream. She bent down, picking up Lady and rubbing between her ears. “You guys did this for… me?”
Were her eyes getting watery? Shit. I could handle blood, guts, splattered brains, but I could not handle tears of any sort. It made me feel weak and helpless, and I never wanted to feel so out of control as I did when tears flowed that I couldn’t stop.
Mercer looked uncomfortable as he shifted from foot to foot. “You couldn’t go to ice cream, so we brought it to you.”
“That’s…“ Her lip trembled. “Thank you.”
With the dog still in her hands, she stood on her toes and kissed his cheek, and before I could process the feeling that I suspected was jealousy, she was at my side, her lips grazing my cheek too. Adam looked on, his eyes an unreadable fire, but then, even though he had absolutely nothing to do with the execution of this ice cream run, she stretched up and kissed his cheek, leaving him stiff when she pulled back.
His hand went to his cheek, unsure how to handle the affection. His stupor ended when Lady leaned up, offering her own version of a kiss. Instead of acting disgusted by the dog like he had been mere minutes ago, his hand left his cheek and patted her on the head.
Bellamy hadn’t seemed to notice the trance she had put us in. Instead, she walked to the island, still hugging the dog tight, and began picking up the cartons of ice cream and reading the flavors that were written on them in sharpie.
“What’s your favorite?” she asked, and when I looked up, she was looking directly at me.
“I-um, I’ll eat whatever is left over. I’m not picky.” Shit, I was almost stuttering like a nervous child.
“That wasn’t what I asked.” Her long lashes fanned her cheek as she looked down at the flavors. “What is your favorite?”
I never really thought about my favorite ice cream. As a kid, I never had the luxury of enjoying it. But when I got ice cream, I’d always pick pistachio because that was what my sister loved. And maybe it was the memory that ties me to it because to this day, I pick it, and when I eat it, I think of her. “Pistachio.”
She reached forward, reading the cartons until she found the pistachio, then handed it to me with a plastic spoon. I took it and looked at it for a moment, unsure how to handle this whole sharing thing combined with her taking my likes into consideration. “I- we got this for you.”
“And I want you to have pistachio.” She pointed out before turning to Mercer, one brow raised in challenge as she waited for him to answer an unasked question.
When she didn’t speak, the corner of one side of his lip tilted, and I swore his eyes sparkled with something similar to love. “Cookies and cream.”
She handed him the pint of cookies and cream, then cocked her hip as she waited for Adam’s favorite ice cream. “I don’t like ice cream.”
He was a damn liar. I knew for a fact he ate ice cream. But before I could even mention that fact, Mercer answered for him. “His favorite ice cream is rocky road. Ice cream is one of his favorite foods and don’t let the fact that he’s jaded in his old age fool you. He has his secretary sneak him some at least once a week.”
She smiled triumphantly before handing him over his pint of ice cream. “Thank you, Mercer, that was helpful.”
“Anytime, little girl.” He leaned against the counter, already digging into his ice cream. “What’s your favorite?”
She skimmed over the sharpie labels, examining them. “I wasn’t allowed to have ice cream often, but our chef would sneak me some when my father was out of town. I always loved cookie dough, unless it’s Christmas season, then candy cane with fudge sauce.”
“And your mom?” I wondered because we knew nothing about her unless it came to her father.
“Died during childbirth. I was an only child. Such a disappointment to my father to have a girl and not a male to follow in his footsteps.”
“I’d never want a kid to follow in my footsteps.” I shoved in a bite of ice cream and fought the moan that was surfacing. “I’d just want them to be happy.”
She froze, looking at the ice cream carton, looking thoughtful before admitting, “It’s all I’ve really wanted.”
I knew she was talking about for the baby. The one we saw wiggling around happily inside of her. Did she think we’d alter that course? Did she suspect we’d use that child for ill will when all we wanted to do was give it the love and security we never had?
We.
I needed to get my head on straight because I was already acting like this child was ours. All of ours. They say it takes a village to raise a child and that may be true, but if I didn’t get my thoughts in order and fast, I might become too attached to an idea that I had no business entertaining.
When the room got quiet, everyone lost in their ice cream, leaning against counters, eating their frozen treat without bothering to sit, Adam whispered to himself, “I’d just wanted them to be happy, too.”
I doubt he realized he said it. Still, when I looked up, I saw her watching him, taking in every inch of the scars that covered the side of his body, and I felt it. I felt the sadness that came with her gaze. The sorrow and wistfulness of longing and wanting something we can’t have. Was it him she wanted? Or the reality of the love he once shared? I didn’t blame her for yearning for something she hadn’t had, because deep down I was there with her, wishing for once I had a single quality that was redeemable enough to love.