ALL THINGS PRETTY PART TWO (9 page)

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE - TOMMI

My body feels cold, which is a stark contrast to the
trickling warmth coming from my wrists. It’s strange, though, because I notice
it in a vague, sort of detached way like I might notice the sound of a
lawnmower in the distance as I hang clothes on the line.
 

I let my mind drift in that direction, recalling a few happy
memories of Travis when he was younger, playing badminton out back with
me.
 
I did the best I could for him.
The very best I could.

Then, as if by magic, I hear him.
 
It’s Travis.
 
His voice is unmistakable.
 
Only it sounds different.
 
Panicked.
 

Reality comes rushing back, albeit a bit fuzzily, as I think
about what I’ve done.
 
I feel my
first pang of regret.
 
So lost in my
own misery was I that, for once, I didn’t think of how Travis might feel about
losing me, only that he’d be better off without me.
 
But will he?
 
Will he be better off with no family at
all, versus one that’s as broken as I am?
 
Will he be better off with one more nightmare to add to the long list of
terrors he has to try and outrun, outlive?

I gasp, pulling air into my lungs.
 
That’s when I catch the scent of
something breathtakingly familiar.

Sig.

He always smells like soap and leather. I don’t know why.
I’ve never seen him in leather, but it’s what I think of when I inhale him.

More sadness, more regret course through me, pouring out
through the slices in my skin in rivers of red.
 

I feel big hands slide tenderly under my knees and back,
lifting me out of the tub and cradling me against a hard chest.
 
I sigh in
relief,
unable to think of a single place I’d rather be until I am simply…no more.
 
Dead.
 
Gone.

Sig’s deep, muffled voice gives Travis short, snappy
instructions.
 
Get me some towels.
 
Do you
know where your bandages are?
 
Get
me whatever you can find.
 
Call 911.

I hear him muttering, his voice shaking when everything else
is so rock-steady, even the accelerated beat of his heart beneath my ear.

“Please don’t leave me, Tommi. Please don’t go.”

As cold as I am, I warm at his words, wishing that I
could’ve told him how I felt before I did what I did. But then he’d have known.
He’d have known and he’d have stopped me.

There’s movement.
 
Pressure at my wrists.
 
Jostling.
 
Hands grabbing,
fingers holding.
 
More
pressure.
 
A light
touch to my neck.
 
Faint
throbbing at my pulse point.

“Travis, would you mind to watch for the ambulance?” Sig
asks.

I hear no response, but after a few seconds, I sense the
absence of my brother.

And then I’m being crushed in arms that feel like
steel.
 
Sig’s face is buried in my
hair, his huffing breath moist against my skin.
 
“Please don’t go, Tommi.
 
Please. I never wanted to love you like this,
but I do. But you weren’t supposed to leave me.
 
You weren’t supposed to take everything
I am, everything good in my life, and leave me with nothing.
 
I did everything I could for you, so you
could be free and happy and we could be together.
 
Please don’t leave me like this. Oh God,
please.”

I recall our conversation, the one where he admitted he
never wanted to love someone so much that life would be less without
them
.
 
Yet he
loves me.
 
He risked his worst fear
for me.
 
For the love
of me.
 

He’s crying.
 
It’s
a slight, manly shaking of his big body that makes me want to pull him against
me, to comfort him and tell him that I’m not going anywhere, that I would never
leave him like that.
 
Only I know
that it’s probably too late to turn back now.

“I love you,” he whispers, wetness coating the area under my
ear.
 
“I love you more than anything
else in my life. What am I supposed to do without you?
 
You can’t leave me now, so soon. Not
like this. Please, Tommi. Please, please, please. I love you.
 
Tia, I love you.”

Tia, I love you.

Tia.
 
That’s me.
The real me.
 
The girl who killed her brother by accident.
The girl who
forged checks and lied about
who
she was.
 
The girl who bargained with her body and
her soul, the only things she had left, in order to save her brother.

This man, this strong, amazing, funny, caring man
loves me.

I’ve waited all my life, all my disaster-of-a-life to find
him, to hear those words.
 
And now I’m
leaving.
 
This glimpse, this short,
heartbreaking glimpse, is all I’ll ever get.

Why?
 
Why did I
do this?
 
Why did I give up so
easily?
 
Why did I run instead of
fighting?
 
I’ve come this far, why
didn’t I finish the race?

Thoughts war. Wills battle.
 
Something dies.
 
And something new emerges.

As though it’s a physical exchange, I feel the past and all
its sadness draining out from me, leaving me along with my blood.
 
But inside, somewhere deep inside, I
feel love and hope and determination well within me, a spring overflowing in my
chest, filling me with warmth and determination.

With every ounce of strength that I have, I force my lids
open. The room dips and sways, but I blink back the dizzying spin and try to
focus.

“Sig,” I murmur, my lips dry, my tongue thick.

Stillness.
 
Absolute stillness.

“Sig,” I say again, as loudly as I can muster, pushing past
this overwhelming weakness.

Slowly, as though I’m the most fragile thing in the world,
Sig lowers me away from him enough to look down into my face.
 
His eyes are wet with tears, the lashes
spiky and black around the warm chocolate centers.
 
One tear slips out and runs down his
cheek.
 
“Tommi?”

“I’m s-so sorry.
 
I…I wish…I regret…
”
 
It’s so hard to talk. I’m so
tired, the temptation to shut my eyes so compelling.
 
“I p-panicked.
 
Felt s-so bad.
So…ashamed.
 
The guilt.
 
So much.
 
B-but I shouldn’t have done this to you,
t-to Travis.
 
I love…love you.
 
So much.”

He squeezes his eyes shut and presses his lips to mine.
 
“Please be strong.
 
For me.
 
Help is on the way. Just stay with me
until they come.
 
Okay?” he asks,
looking down at me again.
 
“Promise
me you’ll stay, you’ll fight.”

“I-I promise.”

Then he holds me tight against his chest, like he never
plans to let me go, and I think to myself that if I have one last wish, one
last prayer to pray, that I’ll beg God to let me stay.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX - SIG

Two months later

“So when will we get to see Sloane?” Travis asks for the
fifth time at least.

“She’s getting married, dude.”
 
The look on his face says he doesn’t
care. “Don’t make me regret bringing you.”

He sits back against the seat, holding his hands up in
surrender, but he’s trying not to smile.
 
And I like seeing that. I wasn’t sure the kid would ever smile again
there for a while.

“So what am I supposed to do while you’re up there?” he asks
when I shift into park in the church lot and cut the engine.

“Keep quiet, which I know won’t be a problem for your sulky
ass. You’ll be in the front row. Just sit there until my brothers find you.”

“Which ones are they again?”

“Steven and Scout.”

“Hemi and Reese and what’s the other one’s name?”

“Leif.
 
Bu
they’re in-laws.
 
Hemi is Sloane’s
fiancé and his brothers are Reese and Leif.”

“And Reese is married to…”

“Kennedy.”

“She’s pretty hot, too.”

“Yeah, she’s all right.”
 
There was a time when I thought she was
really
hot, but that was before
Tommi.
 
Tia. She forever changed
beauty for me.
 
She forever changed
me.
 
My chest gets tight when I think about her, just like it’s done a
million times in the last couple of months.
 
Since that night she…
 

“Not as hot as Sloane,” Travis mutters.

“
Ewww
.
 
She’s my sister, douche.
 
And you’d better keep comments like that
to yourself.
Hemi’ll
whip that ass if you’re not
careful.”

“Penis envy,” Travis deadpans.

I laugh.
 
I can’t
help it.
 
The kid cracks me up.

It feels good to laugh. Like Travis, I wasn’t sure I was
going to be able to laugh again either.

When we get out, I reach out to straighten Travis’s tie.
 
Then I straighten my own and tug at the
bottom of my tux jacket.
 
“So, am I
killin
’ it?” I ask.

“As much as big, goofy bastard like you
can,
I guess.”

I lightly punch his arm. He takes it and leans far to one
side and springs back, like one of those inflatable punching bags with sand in
the bottom.
 
He doesn’t retaliate,
but I see his lips twitch.
 
That’s
good enough for me.
 
One step at a time.

We make our way into the church. It’s just starting to fill
up.
 
I drop Travis off at the front
row and head to the area behind the pulpit, where the groom awaits.
 
It’s lighthearted in here.
 
Hemi can’t stop smiling.
 
His brothers can’t stop teasing
him.
 
It’s like all is right with
the world for them.

My sister’s best friend, Sarah, asked her mother, Blaire, to
take care of the baby during the ceremony.
 
After a short knock, she appears at the pastor’s door carrying Eden, my
niece.
 

Blaire carries her to Hemi.
 
“She was getting fussy and I think the
bride has her hands full at the moment.”

I watch Hemi take his daughter from Sarah’s mom.
 
My gut squeezes at the way his face
lights up. He looks like a complete ass when he starts talking baby talk, but
it’s the good kind of ass.
 
The kind
that makes me ache somewhere in the vicinity of my heart.
 
The kind of ass I’d gladly be.

“Daddy’s making Momma an honest woman, today, isn’t he, baby
girl?” he coos.

“Took you long enough, you jackass,” I tease.
 

Hemi flips one middle finger up at me behind his daughter’s
back.
 
“Watch your filthy mouth
around my kid, Locke.”

“Sorry, man,” I tell him sincerely. It makes me sympathize
with my dad a little, remembering how hard it was for him to try and raise a lady
in a house full of foul-mouthed boys.
 
Most of them cops, no less.

Hemi kisses Eden’s belly, which sticks out roundly from
under her frilly pink dress, filling the room with her sweet laugh. Just as her
giggling is really kicking up, the preacher comes in to tell us that it’s time.
 
Hemi gives Eden back to Blaire and turns
back to us, a huge smile wreathing his face.

“It’s time,” he says.
 
It’s plain to see he’s not the least bit nervous. In fact, he looks like
he just won the lottery.

“You ready?”
 
Reese
asks.
 

Dumb ass.
 
You can see that he is.

“Are you kidding?
 
I’m finally getting to make the girl of my dreams
mine
forever.
 
I’ve
waited my whole life for this day.”

“That’s all fine and good, but just remember that if you
make her cry, you’ll be
running
for
the rest of
that life,” I add.
 
Not that I think Hemi would hurt my
sister. I don’t think I’ve ever seen two people more in love.
 
But still, she’s my sister.
 
The only one I’ve got.
 
I’ll gladly hunt him down if he hurt
her.

Hemi claps me on the shoulder, his expression sincere.
 
“I’d rather cut off my own damn arm than
to see her sad for even a day.
 
I
promise I’ll do everything in my power to make sure she’s the happiest woman in
the world.”

We nod at each other, both understanding how important
Sloane is to the other, and we turn to line up at the door.
 
As we stand waiting, there are smiles
all around, slaps on the back, playful remarks about wedding nights and how Hemi
got the bride knocked up too soon.
 
It puts me at ease, reminds
me of how rich and full
life can
be when you’re surrounded by people you love.
 
And when you find the right person to
share it all with.
 
I found
that.
 
Even though I wasn’t looking
for it, I found it.
 
I found her.

I shake off my thoughts and
focus
as the door swings open.
 
Quietly,
we step out in order.
 
Me, Leif, Reese and then Hemi.
 
As soon as we are in place, the minister
nods to the small string orchestra that sits off to one side of the front of
the church.
 
They play a pretty
song. I’m not familiar with it, of course. I’m a dude. I have balls.
 
It’s not like I’ve been to many
weddings. But whatever it is, it seems to suit a day like this.
 

I watch the back of the room, my eyes trained on the
door.
 
My heart is hammering in my
chest like it’s
me
who’s getting
married. I probably won’t ever get used to the feeling. But then again, that’s
probably a good thing.

At the back of the church, the two ushers left pull open the
doors and there, standing like a gorgeous, golden angel, is Tommi.
 
Tia,
I correct.
 

Tia is her name, but in my mind, I still often think of her
as Tommi.
 
That’s the name I had for
the girl I fell in love with, right up until I learned who she really is.
 
The only thing that changed was her
name. Now it’s Tia.
 
I just have to
get used to it. But she’s still my Tommi.
 
The love of my life.
 
And the main thing, the
most important thing,
is that I can call
her mine.
 
I don’t give a damn about
the rest.

Her hair is piled up on her head in that style that I
love.
 
Her skin looks like cream
silk against the dark rose-colored dress she’s wearing. And on her face, the
beautiful smile that I never get tired of.
 
I used to wonder when I’d see it, the
genuine
smile. She didn’t use it much when we first met. But now,
ever since she woke up in the hospital recovering from her accident with the
razor, she’s hardly taken it off. And that’s fine by me.
 

I think back to how she explained her…
happiness
when she was finally discharged and I got to take her
home.

We were lying in bed together, her head resting on my chest,
one of her legs thrown over mine.
 
She was drawing circles around my nipple.
 
She had bet me that she could make me
hard doing that. I had bet her that she couldn’t.
 
I lost.
 
But she cheated.

Anyway, she was telling me about how she felt.
 
“It’s like part of me died that night.”

My chest got tight then. Like it gets tight now.
 
Just the thought of her not being here,
of living my life without her…I can’t even picture it. Hell, I don’t even want
to
try
.

“After you picked me up, when I really realized what I’d
done, I promised God that if He’d help me through it, give me yet another
second chance, I’d live every day like it’s my last.
 
That I wouldn’t let the past tarnish one
second of my future. Not one single second.
 
Even then, though, I wondered how I
could ever let it go so completely.
 
But when I woke up in the hospital, saw you asleep with your head
resting on your hand where it held mine, it was like everything that happened
was just…gone.
 
Almost like it never
was.
 
I think I bled out that night.
 
Bled out all the bad, all the shame and
bitterness.
All the hurt and darkness.
 
And the emptiness that should’ve been
left behind wasn’t emptiness at all.
 
It was
a fullness
, a place that only had room
for the good.
 
You.
 
Travis. Momma.”

She brought those big eyes up to mine that night, tears
sparkling in them.
 
“I’d die all
over again if it meant coming alive to you.
 
To us.
To this.
 
I never
thought I’d be this happy.
 
It makes
all that we went through, all that we sacrificed worth it.”

“I’m glad, baby, but don’t even talk about dying.
 
I don’t think you know how hard it was
for me to see you that way, for me to wait by the bed for those hours, praying
that you’d wake up.”

“I can only imagine.
 
I’m so sorry, Sig,” she told me, burying her face against my chest.

“Don’t apologize. I know you didn’t do it on purpose.
 
And when the doctor explained that you
were suffering from severe depression and post-traumatic stress after
everything that happened, I realized that you weren’t trying to leave me. You
were only trying to make the pain go away. I’m just glad that it went, but left
you with me.”

I leaned down to kiss her forehead and heard her soft reply.
“I am, too.
 
I never want to be
apart from you.
 
Ever.
 
Not for even a day.”

“Well, I have to work, you know.”

“Then I’ll come with you. What do you think they’d say about
a criminal working at the police station?”

She said it jokingly, but I didn’t think it was funny.
 
I didn’t want her to feel that way, like
a criminal.
 
Like she’s somehow
less
.

“You aren’t a criminal.
 
A court of law determined that what you did was an act of self-defense.
You feared for your own life and that of your family. Period.
 
Anyone else would’ve done the same
thing.”
 
I reached down to turn her
face up to mine.
 
“Don’t you understand
that I’d kill for you?
 
I’ll kill a
hundred men. A thousand, if I had to.
 
I’d
kill
for you,
die
for you. I’d do anything for you.”

“Well, let’s hope it never comes to that,” she said lightly,
which I knew would lead to a change in subject. She never likes talking about that
stuff too long.
 
And I never try to
make her.

She ran her tongue over my nipple then, biting it a little
when it got hard.
 
I felt her hand
glide down my stomach, her fingers wrapping around my already-stiff cock.
 
“You’re cheating,” I said on a sigh.

“What are you
gonna
do,
Officer?
 
Cuff me?”

That was the last thing she said for at least an hour.
 
Well, unless you count moans and the
screaming of my name.
 

It was a damn good hour.

Now we’re here at my sister’s wedding.
 
Sloane insisted that Tommi be a part of
it.
 
They got close
fast.
 
Which is good since they’re the two most important women in my
life.
 
I’m not really surprised,
though. I knew that Sloane would love Tommi once they met.
 
Once she gave her a chance.
 

Now, two months later, here we are, healthy and happy and
whole, surrounded by the most important people in our lives, and I’m watching
her walk toward me, wishing it
was
us
joining our lives together today.