Chapter 4
Chapter Four
EVIE
Dinner with Mercy was the most fun I've had in a long time, that didn't involve toy dinosaurs or unwanted dinner guests. I invited Vic, and Lou showed up as well. Lou has a sixth sense for when I fry chicken. She shows up every time I cook it. It’s eerie as hell.
It’s safe to say Mercy is the boys' new friend, not mine. Bash warmed up to him right away, and after a couple of hours, Charlie did as well. They talked his ear off about the cars he rebuilt and insisted he try and make one from their block they had scattered throughout the house. Mercy didn't mind one bit. He seemed to enjoy playing with them. They had the biggest grins when he left and made him promise to come back for dinner. He asked if he could bring his grouchy brother instead of a peach cobbler next time. The boys said maybe. I made Mercy take his brothers the leftovers, which broke Mercy's heart, but I think he could see how much not inviting him was getting to me.
"Sugar, you don't have to be afraid of him," Mercy says as I walk him out .
I laugh nervously. "Is it so easy to tell?"
"Sugar, it shines like a damn neon sign." Mercy looks across the street and back at me. "He used to be a lot like me you know?"
"Flirty?" I tease.
Mercy blows out a heavy breath. "Full of life. There wasn't a room he walked in that didn't feel like he painted it to life." He says it in a way that tells me how much he misses that part of his brother.
My chest grows tight. "What happened?"
Mercy chuckles. "Oh, no you don't Sugar. I may find that ass delectable but that's not my story to tell. My brother may be many things but someone you should be afraid of isn't one of them."
I just give him a slight nod, not able to respond. I respect that. I think back to earlier in the grocery store, seeing Maddox smile, and I can feel my whole-body blush. He looked like a different person when he smiled. He was breathtaking. I could easily see where the man could be playful and coy once upon a time.
Which leads to why I'm standing on his porch two days later in the dark with enough fried chicken and apple turnovers for five people. I was curious to know how much Baby Hulk could eat. If he’s anything like his brother, this will be a snack. Mercy has an unending appetite, and where he put it all I have no clue.
The porch light is off, but the lights are on the inside. Before I can chicken out, I knock on the door and wait, but when there’s no answer, I knock again. I’m just about to leave when the door suddenly flies open, and there stands the person who's been on my mind lately—the handsome grouch.
Maddox doesn't say a word, just stares at me in that intense way of his that unnerves me.
"H-hey," I stammer, stepping into the light spilling onto the porch from the inside. Holding on to what Mercy told me about him being all bark, I straighten my shoulders. I’m not sure what I hoped to accomplish by coming here. Yet here I stand .
"Evie?" That's the first time he's said my name, and I feel it wash over me like a soft caress from my head to my toes.
"Y-yeah, it's me. I felt horrible about the other day and made you this. I should have invited you." I held up the containers in my hands.
He flips the switch on and steps outside. I have to blink to adjust my eyes to the harsh porch light. That's when I notice he’s shirtless because I only reach the top of his pec that suddenly appears in my face.
The man is all hard lines and muscle. His shorts are set low on his hips, exposing the deep v that tapers his waist. He has a trail of dark hair that starts below his navel and disappears in his shorts. A familiar heat rises in my lower belly, and I bite my lip before stepping back to look at his face, his jade eyes carefully watching me.
He stands still, not moving to take anything. "Charlie and Bash are my world," I say as if that explains anything.
He looks at me thoughtfully for a second, tracing the scar on his full lips, something I notice he does when he's thinking. Still not moving to take the food from my hands.
"What?" I ask. My heart pounds like a drum in my chest telling me to run, abort the mission.
"Come to the gym."
Great, back to this. I feel myself instantly deflate. "No."
"Why the hell not?" he asks, crossing his massive arms across his chest, towering over me at full height, looking every bit the skilled fighter he is. I take a small step back. His mouth forms a flat line at my retrieval.
Because, I think to myself, I know how easily strong hands like yours can snap an arm in half, crack ribs, and leave someone battered and bruised. Plus, being alone with you makes me feel more vulnerable than I have felt in a long time and more alive, and I don't need reminders of things I'm too damaged for.
I take a deep breath. "Listen, big guy, I felt horrible for inviting your brother to dinner right in front of you the other day without even asking you, even though I did send you leftovers. I stayed up cooking all this when I just wanted to grab a book and soak in a steaming bath. If you don't want it, just say so." Why can't he just say thank you and take the damn food? Why? I felt the panic dissipate and frustration take its place.
Maddox lets out a frustrated growl before stepping closer. Such a broody ass.
"You don't frighten me," I say, unable to look him in the eye.
"The fuck I don’t," he snarls at me. “You try to hide it behind those fake smiles and sassy-ass attitude you throw my way, but you don’t fool me.”
Well, call me cling wrap because apparently, I'm see-through.
Gritting my teeth, I decide I’m done with this conversation and shove the food at his chest. "You don't frighten me," I repeat quietly, meeting his intense gaze. A look I can't quite decipher crosses his handsome face causing his stoic gaze to soften just slightly, and he silently takes the food from my hands.
I give him a small truth, just one, "All that anger you carry with you terrifies me."
His big powerful body flinches as if I reached out and hit him. Giving him a sad smile, I turn and head home. I feel his searing gaze on me the whole way, even long after I've shut the door behind me.
Today in the middle of the breakfast rush, the school called me. Bash and Charlie both have high fevers. My children seldom get sick, but when they do, it's always at the same time. They've had strep, RSV, and stomach flu all at the same damn time, and let me tell you there is no kind of tired like when your children are sick.
RSV was the worst. My boys had to be hospitalized, and I wouldn't have survived without Joe and Lou. They had to stick Charlie six times before getting his IV in. I sat in a chair between their little beds and cried my heart out. All they wanted was for me to hold them. I’ve never felt so helpless, and that says a lot coming from me—I'm no stranger to helplessness. I tried so hard to be a good mother and love my boys in every way I ever wanted my mother to love me, but I felt like I failed when I saw their little bodies in those beds.
Luckily, this was just the common stomach virus that had been going around school, but I'm a basket case any time they're sick. Constantly fretting and triple-checking their breathing, and that's precisely how I spent all day Wednesday and Thursday. By the time the boys feel better on Friday, I’m exhausted, barely hanging on by a thread. Laying on the couch with Bash wrapped around one side and Charlie curled into the other, I doze off.