Chapter 10
Ten
Josie
One month of actual no contact
What about him makes me lose control?
Thank God it’s Friday! I swirl the glass of wine in my hand.
It’s a warm night as I stand on my porch in my pajama set.
It’s a soft linen shorts and button top in red with black hearts all over.
For this moment, I take in the ability to stand outdoors without fear even if I know it’s short lived.
Brett has taken so much from me; I want to have this moment to commit to memory since I don’t get many of them.
Why he’s backed off, I don’t know, and I don’t want to know. I want to embrace this gift of peace.
Justice is at a sleepover with Ezekiel. He doesn’t often stay at other places, but the boys have been friends since they were potty training, it seems. I know Juan and Emelia adore Justice and will keep him safe. Even knowing and trusting them, it’s still hard.
I miss him.
Justice is my whole world.
With the risk Brett can be, I also worry. One moment of not being hyper vigilant and Brett has my son. Juan knows more than most. He saw the marks and had his own encounter with Brett once over Justice. Even though I know he won’t let anything happen, easing my own anxiety is a challenge.
Letting go even for a moment is still hard.
Feeling like the house is too quiet, I move outside to my small front porch.
Inhaling the night air, I try to calm my frazzled nerves.
I shouldn’t be out here. If Brett is in the area this could be a problem.
Past actions predict future behaviors. His past, our past, tells me if he has been watching, he knows I’m alone right now.
Has he been waiting for it? The Hellions have been great about watching me yet allowing me to not feel smothered.
Mostly Dean is the one following and posting up outside of my work which gives me an odd comfort.
A noise gets my attention next door. I glance over to Dean’s.
He has music playing with the spotlight off his garage beaming down on his truck.
I take another sip of my wine as I listen to him sing along to Chris Stapleton and can’t stop the smile forming.
He has this long beard like Chris Stapleton, and I bet if he wore a worn-out cowboy hat, he could almost look like a taller, biker version of the singer.
The night air is crisp with a soft breeze, kissing my skin like an unspoken promise. Every breath rushes through me as my body comes alive listening to the raspiness of his voice as he sings about a broken halo. As if there is a pull from me to him, I find myself making my way next door.
Upon my approach, he calls out to the device playing to stop the music. “Hey Jo, sorry didn’t mean to keep you up. I’ll keep the music off.”
I shake my head. “No, I was enjoying the show.”
He smirks with the white of his teeth glistening under the light from his garage. “You want a show, baby, I’m happy to give it to you anytime.”
I step closer into his space. “You have an amazing voice.”
He smiles like I’ve never seen him smile before. “It’s my plan B in life.”
He turns to face me. We are mere inches apart as I playfully pat his chest. He is wearing black sweatpants with a red t-shirt that fits like a second skin. He isn’t wearing his cut. Seeing him without it almost feels like I’m seeing him naked. Lifting my glass, I sip my wine again.
“Justice asleep?” He asks with a hunger in his eyes that has goosebumps rushing over my skin.
“He’s spending the night at a friend’s house.” Suddenly, the fabric of my pajamas feels even thinner against my sensitive flesh.
When was the last time I had butterflies around a man?
Jonah.
I pause for the usual sadness to arrive, only it doesn’t. With my eyes on Dean, I can’t help but admire the masculine presence in front of me.
Dean steps closer. I stand still in anticipation. Will he kiss me again?
He tips my chin up as his head drops down. Softly his lips press to mine. I wait for him to move for more, instead he brings his head back leaving me to whimper in want.
“Jo,” my name comes out in almost a whisper. “You’re safe with me. You know that, right?”
I nod because somehow, I do know he will protect me. While I can’t trust my own choices, there is something about the way Dean makes me feel. It reminds me of the comfort Jonah once provided but in a different way.
Reaching over, he drops the tailgate of the truck.
Before I realize it, he’s lifting me up and planting me in front of him as I sit on the tailgate, and he stands in front of me.
Setting my wine glass down beside me, I boldly reach out wrapping my hands around his neck, pulling him closer.
Leaning forward, the fabric of my shirt rubs against my pert nipples as I press my lips to his.
As I open my mouth to intensify our kiss, he takes over.
Our tongues collide as passion consumes me like never before. I arch into him wanting more contact. His hands cup my back pulling me to the edge of the tailgate with him standing between my legs as we continue to kiss.
I moan as he pulls away wanting more.
“Need to know, Jo. You want this, you gotta say it.”
I nod as I bite my bottom lip. Can I do this? Is this another bad decision?
“Yes,” I whisper as he takes a small step back but not enough that I move my hands from his neck and his hands stay on the small of my back.
“Jo, I want this. I want you. But before things go anywhere, I need to share something with you.”
I swallow hard as anxiety fills me. What could he possibly want to share.
“Your situation,” he pauses and looks me in my eyes. I feel all of these emotions radiating off of him, “my sister she had the same one.”
“Dean,” his name barely escapes my lips before he lifts a hand placing a finger over my mouth to quiet me.
“Let me get this out, Jo. Please,” the last word comes out as a true plea.
I nod.
“Man I am, honesty is everything. Before things change between us, you need to know me. The good, the bad, and the ugly.”
Tears begin to pool behind my eyes as a tiny bit of fear creeps in. What could he tell me?
“My dad died when I was a toddler. Mom did the best she could, but she died of a broken heart when I was in elementary school. My sister was ten years older than me. We lived with my grandparents until she turned eighteen.” He takes a deep inhale.
“She met a man, an older man, fell in love. Moved in with him. Things seemed okay on the outside. It wasn’t until my grams died and gramps got dementia that it all went haywire.
I was twelve, Destiny was twenty-two. She took custody of me.
Living there, I felt the tension. She was pregnant, he shook her like a rag doll.
I begged her to leave. Told her I would mow grass to help pay for things.
” His face takes on a faraway look. “I even asked her to let me go into foster care if it meant she could get out with her unborn baby.”
“Dean,” I begin, and he shakes his head.
“Family is everything, Jo. Not just because I live in the Hellions world where we live for family. I was fourteen when it all fell apart to never be put back together again.”
I’m on alert as I see the broken behind his eyes.
“He came home drunk. Two years living with them, I knew it was going to be a bad episode. My nephew left a building block out. Chuck stepped on it and all hell broke loose. He picked my nephew up before my sister or I could get to him. With his hands around his neck, he literally squeezed the life from his body in front of us. Destiny screamed, begged, cried out to God. I rushed him, punching his sides before he dropped my now blue nephew’s lifeless body to the ground.
My sister ran to her son, he wasn’t breathing.
Hit after hit, I let Chuck wail on me hoping my sister could save her son.
Blow by blow, I took them until I heard Destiny yell, ‘Stop!’ turning to her she had a gun in her trembling hands aimed at Chuck.
He laughed as he held me in a choke hold.
Taunting her he moved closer to Destiny.
Once he could reach her, he took the gun. She was in too much shock.”
“Oh Dean, no,” I whisper thinking I know how this is going to end.
“He stood there, gun in hand, a smile on his face, and put the first bullet in his son. ‘Told you the bastard wasn’t mine,’ Chuck said before turning the weapon on my sister.
Reacting, I rushed him at the side, the gun goes off.
He misses. The butt of the gun comes down on my face because I looked to my sister instead of watching Chuck.
The sound of the next round fires by my ear and I hear Destiny scream before the thump of her body hitting the floor.
Scuffling, fighting for my life, the gun goes off again.
Not feeling the burn of a bullet, I keep fighting Chuck.
Again, he fires into the wall. Finally, I get the gun. I don’t think. I shoot.”
The tear escapes and falls down my face.
“That night Chuck Walters took everything from me. The cops pulled up within seconds, finding me holding the revolver, and everyone else in the house either dead or clinging to life. Stunned, I couldn’t speak.
I let them think what they wanted. I wasn’t the best kid.
Petty crimes, but I had a bit of a reputation and small-town life, Chuck was a good ol’ boy.
I was arrested and charged with three counts of manslaughter.
I spent a year in a juvenile facility awaiting trial. ”
“What? It was self-defense,” I defend feeling anxious for the teenage boy who merely tried to save his family.