Drowning to Breathe (14 page)

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Authors: A. L. Jackson

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Coming of Age, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Bleeding Stars, #Book Two

BOOK: Drowning to Breathe
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THE SUN WAS JUST
sinking behind the trees when I rolled to a stop in front of Shea’s house.

Kallie had long since fallen asleep.

Shea climbed right out, immediately going to her daughter. Taking her. Holding her. Protecting her.

I was just as quick. I went to her side, my hand at the small of Shea’s back as we made our way up the walkway.

A couple paparazzi were staked out down the street, snagging pics, but I was thankful for the most part they were wise enough to let us be.

The front door flew open and April came rushing out, hands pressed over her mouth.

Relief.

All of us. We reeled in it.

Even if my hands twitched with the need to rip Jennings to shreds. Limb from limb. Slowly. Meticulously. Permanently.

That encounter had left a furor of violence demanding action and a load of new questions demanding answers.

Felt it coming. And soon.

Shea climbed the three steps up to the porch, and Kallie stirred, head poking up, brown eyes confused before they flashed recognition, joy and sweet and solace, the child immediately soothed by her surroundings.

Shea kissed her temple. “You’re home, Butterfly,” she whispered.

Kallie held tight to Shea’s neck, squeezing just about as tight as my chest squeezed with everything I never thought I could feel.

The emotion about more than I could bear.

Too fucking much, so fucking light and good. Blinding. All that beauty pressing in.

April touched Kallie’s face as Shea passed. Kallie looked up and smiled that precious smile.

“Auntie April.” Her voice was small, but the love shining from her eyes was
enough
.

April let out a quiet sob. “Kallie.”

Didn’t think Kallie was ready for the questions that needed to be asked.

It was clear in the way she clung to her mom. Quiet. Subdued.

Reeling from her own relief.

Instead, Shea sat down with her on the couch and rocked her, murmuring a thousand reassurances.

You’re safe.

I have you.

I won’t ever let anyone hurt you.

“You can ask me…tell me anything,” Shea said quietly at the top of her head. “Whenever you’re ready.”

God, the woman was the most incredible mom, and a pang of significance formed when I looked at the two of them together.

Mine.

Kallie’s tiny angel voice cut into the tension. “Can we watch Nemo?”

Shea couldn’t hold back the quick, soggy laugh, because asking if she could watch a movie didn’t come close to the direction of what Shea was suggesting.

But maybe there was some comfort in that, too.

That Kallie just wanted to do something normal.

“Yeah, sweet girl, we can watch Nemo,” Shea answered softly, hugging her more.

We all settled on the couch with the lights dimmed. April quietly stole upstairs after she pressed a kiss to Kallie’s forehead, then one to Shea’s, before she cast me a look that was both wary and filled with appreciation. Same way she’d been looking at me since I’d returned. Like she knew as well as I did that I’d brought trouble into Shea’s life.

Same way as we both knew Shea needed me.

Almost as badly as I needed her.

Shea shifted so she was nestled into my side, her legs angled along the length of the couch, Kallie all twisted up in her arms and resting her back on her mother’s chest.

I let my arm wind around Shea’s shoulders, my fingers softly twisting through Kallie’s hair, curls wild, wild, wild.

And you’d think it’d be impossible, but somehow this little girl managed to steal yet another part of me.

Didn’t know if it was just because she belonged to her mom.

That she was a piece of Shea.

This fucking gorgeous girl, who with just a glimpse had caused me to fall.

I knew it. The second I’d felt her standing there my life had been altered.

I never anticipated I would fall so fucking hard, and that when I finally landed, I’d no longer look the same.

The television flashed and flickered. Bright blips against the dark as the movie played on.

Shadows and silhouettes lit up their expressions.

My girls.

Shea tilted her head back and peered up at me. Her storm alive, subdued yet savage.

Dark.

Light.

Heavy.

Soft.

Everything got so fucking tight, like I couldn’t get air.

Like I was just beneath the surface.

Drowning.

Yet I felt I was floating through it all, on all that warmth and life and light.

Love was cruel like that.

A monster.

A savior.

Both anguish and ecstasy.

Because I knew right then, this life wouldn’t be worth living if I wasn’t living it for them.

In the darkness, possessiveness swelled.

Like a shroud wrapping them with my promise.

It didn’t matter the circumstances or the consequences.

The result would be the same.

I’d do anything, give it all, make any sacrifice to keep them safe.

To keep them happy.

To keep them together.

No matter the cost.

“Be careful, Little Bug,” I warned over my shoulder to a wiggling Kallie, as I stood at the sink filling a huge pot with water. Perched on the butcher-block island that rested in the middle of the country kitchen, her little legs kicked and arms flailed as she danced around to Van Morrison’s
Brown Eyed Girl
playing on the small radio sitting next to her.

Nothing in the world seemed more appropriate.

“I know, Baz.” She said my name like a ballad, lifting it high and pitching it low. A wide grin split her face, exposing her perfect, tiny teeth. “I’m so, so big, you know. I’m gonna be five in only six more months.
And
I’m bein’ super safe.”

Okay,
I drew out in my head, little thing none too shy to set me straight.

Kallie didn’t miss a beat and launched back into the song.

Afternoon light spilled in through the windows. Hazy rays struck against the untamed mound of her curls. Lighting her up. Like some kind of halo followed her around everywhere she went.

And damn, the kid learned fast.

Second time she heard the song?

She was singing those lyrics like that was exactly what she was made to do.

Shutting off the faucet, I moved to the stove, lit the burner, and placed the pot full of water over the flames. I turned around and crossed the short space to Kallie’s side and went back to slathering butter onto two halves of French loaf bread.

Yeah.

Apparently I’d become all kinds of domestic.

Lyrik and Ash were going to have a field day.

I eyed Kallie, attempting not to smile when she gave me another one of those grins and clasped her hands together. “Oh, Momma is gonna be so, so excited when she gets home and we have dinner all ready for her.”

She waved her hands in the air when she said
all
, tone oozing with innocence and a dash of country.

So fucking cute.

I lifted a brow. “You think so?”

“Uh-huh, I know so. Momma likes surprises. Almost as much as me.”

I chuckled, thinking Shea was going to be surprised, all right. Kallie and I’d managed to trash the kitchen in about three point five seconds. Kallie was nothing less than a whirlwind and I wasn’t exactly what one would call skilled in the kitchen.

We made quite the illustrious pair.

“Did you know I’m gonna have a surprise party one day?” she chattered on, shaking a shit ton of garlic salt on the bread I’d just finished buttering.

“I’m going to have butterflies all over and a butterfly dress and a butterfly cake. Oh, oh, OH,
and
butterfly face-paintin’, just like at Paige’s birthday party ’cause it was so pretty and I want everyone at my whole party to look just like a butterfly princess.”

Garlic salt was flying all over the place. Kallie’s attention was more focused on the faraway fantasy she was conjuring than the task at hand. She said birthday like ‘burfday’, and another one of those hardened parts inside me melted.

Swore to God, the kid wielded some kind of magical princess powers—tossing around some glitter and sparkly shit, casting a spell to bring the next man who crossed her path to his knees.

Pretty sure her mom possessed that power, too.

I was in deep, deep trouble.

Another chuckle rolled off my tongue, and I tapped Kallie’s button nose. “Not sure it’s considered a surprise party if you plan it yourself, Little Bug.”

That precious nose scrunched up with confusion, before an idea clicked. “How ’bout you plan one for me, Baz?” she asked. Caramel eyes went wide with their hopeful plea.

There was nothing entitled or assuming about it. It was all awe and hope and imagination.

Yep, I was completely and utterly fucked.

Owned.

Hoped to God I wasn’t supposed to be resisting all the cuteness, because it was just not gonna happen. Figured there were all kinds of rules set in place about not spoiling a kid rotten, but there wasn’t one bratty bone in Kallie Marie Bentley.

She was an untamed, fiery ball of pure sweetness.

Guileless.

Genuine.

Sincere.

Guess she got that from her mother, too.

Like I had to think really hard about it, I twisted my face up in contemplation. “Hmm…I don’t know.”

Anticipation had her clasping her hands again, and she pressed them up under her chin, those tiny teeth exposed as a bright smile split her face. “Oh please, oh please. I’ll be so, so good and listen to every’fing you and Momma tell me!”

I broke out in a grin. “In that case, I think maybe something can be arranged.”

“Yes!” she squealed. Excitement blazed from her, her entire being lighting up like a sudden burst of sunshine.

Basking me in it.

Pretty sure that was going to be the best damned party this town had ever seen.

She danced around on the counter some more, going right back to singing her song and dousing the bread in so much garlic salt I was sure Shea and I were going to be choking it down.

Two and a half weeks had passed since we’d got her back. We’d settled into a routine. That
routine
basically meant me spending every waking second I possibly could with them. Every sleeping second, too. Binging on their time, feeding and fueling myself for the time when my life was going to call me away.

But this time?

This time it’d be done with the promise I’d be back, no matter how long the shit in my life stole them from me.

When she’d first got home, it’d taken a couple of days for Kallie to really begin to relax and start acting like her normal self again. The first week she’d had a couple nightmares.

Fuck, they’d been one of the most heartbreaking scenes I’d ever seen.

Shea had asked her gentle questions, never pressuring her, but always encouraging her to open up. To talk and get it out rather than holding her fear inside. Promising any secret she needed to tell would forever be safe with us.

Still blew my mind Shea trusted me with all of it. With her daughter. With the care, effort, and love that went into it.

Raising her.

Neither of us had stated or uttered it aloud, though we both knew well enough that’s what was happening. I’d slipped into the role like I’d been purposed to do it all along.

Taking on Kallie as my own.

Did I still worry? Wonder if my being a part of their lives was only going to drag them down? Cause them more pain and suffering?

Hell yeah.

Every fucking second.

I guess I just worried more about what their lives might look like without me in it.

Or maybe it was just my own selfishness and greed that had me here, refusing to let them go.

But in moments like these? When I was here with Kallie, making her smile, being a partner to Shea, someone there to support and bolster and ease?

I had to believe I had more to offer. Believe everything Shea saw in me was real. Who I could really be. That maybe I could be better than all the shit I’d allowed to run my life for too many years.

Shea was right.

It was a choice.

And I was choosing them.

One of the only comforts we’d had in the whole situation was that bastard Jennings hadn’t been around much while he’d held Kallie at that house. As Kallie had started feeling comfortable enough to begin telling stories, divulging little bits of what’d gone down, it became clear the old lady who’d answered the door was the one who’d done all the caretaking.

Asshole didn’t give two shits about Kallie.

Not as if it’d come as a surprise.

She’d been nothing more than the pawn. A tactic in his self-righteous game.

Sick part? We were still unsure if it was for entertainment or gain.

I arranged the loaves of bread on a metal tray and slipped them into the oven. I punched numbers into the timer and glanced at the clock.

Any time now, Shea would be walking through the door.

My heart rate ticked up a notch. Was it ridiculous she’d only been gone for four hours and I was already anxious to see her again?

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