SIX (32 page)
“I had the bar to open.” I smile, walking over to him and sliding onto his table.
“You really want this?” he asks, unsure.
I’ve chickened out on more occasions than not in regards to getting ink put on my flesh.
“I want you to know I trust you, I believe in you, and although new things can be frightening, we can overcome and embrace these things as the blessings they are together.”
He quirks a brow at me and sits his fine ass in the stool next to the table I’m lying on.
“It’s a tattoo, Mist,” he laughs. “Where are we putting it?”
“Well, my stomach is kinda full.” I wince and lift my shirt.
His eyes scan the artwork detailed from the picture I’d shown Lucky to work from.
“I don’t…is that—what’s going on?” He looks up at me and then back down to my stomach at the ultrasound image Lucky drew on, showing the baby inside me.
“We’re pregnant,” I announce, squeezing the side of the table.
My nerves take flight inside, humming through my veins while waiting for his response.
We haven’t spoken about kids of our own.
It had always been a sore subject for Six after Haley.
She was robbed of so much in her short life, including her choice to bare children, so finding out I was expecting came with mixed feelings of elation and fear that he would be upset.
Deep down, I know he will overcome any trepidations he may have when he gets to see his baby, because seeing the heartbeat of a life you created…it changes your whole world.
Nothing else can compare to knowing I’m carrying his baby—our baby.
His eyes go wide and then close.
I hold my breath and a second later, he jumps up and sweeps me into a bridal hold, startling me.
“I didn’t think I could feel this,” he chokes out.
“Fuck, it’s instant. I’ve never felt more happy in my entire life.
I’m going to be a daddy?” he asks, a hitch in his voice.
“Yes, an amazing one.” I kiss his lips and let the tears fall.
We earned these happy ones.
The End
The Men By Numbers Series, will return with:
Lucky Number Seven
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Jade
Eighteen years old…
Daddy always told us to be careful. Not to talk to strangers, no matter how friendly they appeared. To question everyone. With two naïve little girls growing up in a wicked world, he wanted to educate us and explain the evil that ran rampant on the news channels. He forced us to watch the happenings of the world far from what seemed like our own, educating us on the beasts walking the earth with faces just like ours, just like his—even in middle America. We lived on a quiet street in a quiet neighborhood in a quiet town, but that didn’t mean the monsters of the world weren’t always lurking.
They’re everywhere,
he said,
not just in the shadows.
He wanted us to perceive the world with narrowed eyes and closed hearts.
And so I did. I’m my daddy’s girl, through and through—a skeptic by nature. Suspicious. Standoffish. Untrusting. I heeded his instructions to the letter and kept my sister and I both safe.
Until I didn’t.
Until the one day my world spun, turned on its axis, and everything was stolen from
us.
Or should I say, until
we
were stolen from the world.
Four years ago, I let my guard down for one man. I allowed the curious girl within me to forget the most important message our dad taught us:
not all monsters hunt in the dark
. Dropping my constant guard for the attention of soft, golden brown eyes and a crooked smile, the walls I held strong, weakened, stealing my equilibrium and sending my hormones into chaos. At fourteen years old, I was weak in the knees for a man much older than me.
Benny.
At least, that’s the name he told me. He lied about that…
he lied about everything
Benny’s Pretty Dolls.
I relive that day over and over, fantasizing a different outcome, but I always end up here. My heart still stammers at the memory of first seeing him, I’ll never forget that day.
* * *
My feet are sore. I should have worn my other sandals like Macy. She skips ahead through the narrow, crowded aisles of the flea market, stopping to gush over anything remotely shiny along the way. How she can be so energetic in this heat astounds me, but that’s our Macy—full of life and openly sharing it with the world. Sweat trickles down over my lip and the burst of salt stirs over my tongue, reminding me how thirsty I am. My dress sticks to my damp flesh like an extra layer of skin. It’s somehow hotter under the shelter of the tents versus the blazing, unforgiving sun. I swipe away the sweat on my upper lip with the back of my hand and send a nasty glare to one of the grown men with an overhanging tummy, flicking his hungry gaze over my younger sister while licking his fat lips and adjusting his slacks. Pig.
We need to leave.
I’m worried like Daddy taught me. My heart thunders in my chest with the need to drag my sister back home where Momma is expecting us for supper in the next half hour.
Of course, Macy won’t be deterred easily.
Always curious, smiling, and eager to know the world.
The flea market is the highlight of her week and the only freedom outside the perimeters of our street Daddy allows us to have. Every Saturday she clutches the dollar she earned from helping with random chores around the house and pines over the items she can’t afford before settling on a simple toy within her price range, which she will later break or lose and I will have to replace with something of my own to stop the tears she will shed.
As for me, I’m the saver.
Each and every dollar.
Just like Daddy taught me to.
One day, I want to go to one of those big cities we always see on the TV shows Momma watches and find those lurking monsters. I’m going to be a policewoman and protect more than just my sister.
I’m not impulsive or rash.
I can wait.
Unfortunately, my sister can’t.
“Oh my goodness, Jade,” she says with a squeal, sending a bright smile in my direction, which reflexes my own at her excitement. “Look how beautiful they are.”
I bare my teeth at the man with the potbelly and salacious grin who happened to be walking in the same direction as us for the last ten minutes. He watches my sister as she bends over to pick up a doll from the table. When he notices my death glare, he has the sense to look ashamed and turns away.
“Twenty-eight dollars,” she murmurs, a twinge of sadness in her voice.
Jerking my attention to my sister, I smile when I see the doll. It’s a twelve-inch porcelain doll with silky chin-length hair and wide green eyes—an exact replica of Macy.
“Oh,” I gush, “she’s beautiful, but too expensive. Pick something else, Macy.”
Macy frowns and nods before setting the doll back down on the table. We’re just about to walk away when a voice halts us.
“Pretty doll for a pretty doll,” a man states in a smooth tone.
Macy and I lift our gazes to the booth owner. The dolls are a thing of the past as we both drink in the handsome guy regarding us with a mischievous crooked grin.
A mop of overgrown brown curls hang down over his eyebrows into his amber-colored eyes. With just the smallest dusting of facial hair, I can tell he’s older—maybe early twenties—but he carries an innocence about him that makes him appear younger.
“She can’t afford the doll,” I tell him, a slight quiver in my voice. He’s cute like the guys from the teen magazines Momma sometimes lets us buy from the grocery store when funds aren’t too tight.
His gaze darts between us and he grins. “Maybe we can strike a deal. I don’t think I quite like it when girls as pretty as you two are sad. I prefer them…” he pauses, his top teeth piercing into his thick bottom lip as he gazes at me in thought. I hold my breath, almost hypnotized as I await his answer. “Smiling.” He grins and motions toward me. “How much you got?”
I try not to focus on the fact that he has muscles, unlike Bo from next door. He’s a senior in high school and still doesn’t have muscles—not like this. This guy is better than Bo, better than those guys in the magazine. He is dreamy. My stomach clenches into knots.
Momma calls these knots hormones. Says I’ll be a woman soon. Ack.
“I have a dollar,” Macy tells him proudly, lifting her chin, gaining his attention back, and I mourn the loss of it. Her cheeks turn rosy and I suspect she’s just as embarrassed to have this cute guy’s attention. I want it back on me…
At this, he chuckles. It doesn’t seem rude or like he’s making fun of her, more like he’s entertained by her words—like he thinks she’s cute, too.
A pang of jealousy spikes through me. I quickly squash it down and remember I’m supposed to be looking after my sister. Protecting her from getting into trouble and leering men. The air begins to feel a little cooler and the crowd starts to thin, alerting me to how much time has passed.
“Come on, Macy,” I hiss, snatching her elbow. “We need to get home. These dolls are too expensive. And you know Daddy doesn’t want us talking to strangers.”
“Benny.” He smirks at me. One dark eyebrow disappears under his curls and a small dimple forms in one cheek. “I’m strange, but I’m not a stranger. My name’s Benny.”
My cheeks heat and I swallow. “We can’t afford the doll.”
He shrugs, his eyes moving like he’s watching a ping pong match between my sister and I. “Suit yourself.” His shoulders lift in an uncaring shrug and he rearranges the doll so she’s back in place.
Macy swivels around to glare at me. My sister is sweet and carefree, not once have I seen the way her green eyes seem to glimmer with anger. “You have some money saved. Maybe I could borrow a few dollars. I’ve never had a dolly like this before.” Her eyebrows crash together and her bottom lip protrudes.
Guilt trickles through me the way the sweat dribbles down my back: slow and torturous.
“I don’t have twenty-eight dollars,” I tell him, my voice hoarse.
His smile is warm and does nothing to cool my heated skin or nerves. Time is ticking and it’s a long walk home. “I could sell the doll to you for twenty.” He tilts his head, studying me. I squirm under his gaze.
Macy gives me a hopeful look. Her anger is gone and her eyes twinkle with delight.
“Fifteen. All I have is fifteen dollars,” I say in defeat, my breath coming out in a huff.
Benny scratches at the scruff on his jaw as he contemplates the deal. There’s a glimmer of victory on his up-tilted lips. “Fifteen it is.”
Macy lets out a squeal and scoops the porcelain doll into her arms. She spins in a circle as she hugs it to her chest. Brat.
“Thank you! I swear I’ll pay it back soon!” she gushes.
Swallowing, I break the bad news to them both. “The money is at home. I’m not sure I have enough time to get there and back before the flea market closes.” Or if Daddy will allow me to come back once I’m home.
He frowns, his eyes dragging between us both. “I suppose I can wait.”
Macy’s hands tremble as she sets the doll back down on the table, clearly defeated.
“Or,” he says with an easy grin, “you two could help me pack up here. I’ll knock off another five bucks for your services and then I can run you by your house on my way out of here. I can even meet your folks. Who knows, maybe we can talk your dad into buying one for you too.” His eyes flit over to mine and my flesh heats again.
“I don’t play with dolls anymore,” I tell him in a clipped tone. For some reason, I want him to think of me as a girl closer to his age rather than one who plays with dolls like my sister.
