His father looks to each of us, and then settles his gaze on Malice. He frowns, and you can see the cogs working. After a minute or so of torturous silence, a light shines in his eyes.
“I’m sorry.”
“That’s all it would have taken,” Malice utters.
The two stare each other down, but with each passing second their expressions go from hatred to weariness once more. Malice’s father steps forward, and extends his hand. I watch as the man I love takes the offer, and locks fists. They pull into an awkward embrace, and pat each other on the back before breaking free.
“Thank you,” his father says.
“Like a beer?”
I shake my head, and laugh at Malice’s response.
Everything will be right. It will take time, but I’m certain that everything will be okay.
FIVE DAYS later, and Malice and I stand on the doorstep of our new home together. Rented, but shared, all the same. This is our place; our future. This is our chance at the dreams we thought we’d never see come true.
Today comes loaded with so many milestones. Not only have we officially been handed the keys to our house, but I took a call while we were at the realtor’s to tell me I have a new job that starts next Monday. Okay, so it’s only a part-time position filing documents at a lawyer’s office, but Malice and I had to compromise. He didn’t want me working at all, and I didn’t want to be driven crazy with cabin fever. So, we decided that the eighteen hours a week they offered was reasonable, and I took the job.
Malice’s dad, Vince, returned home the day after he arrived, but has promised to visit soon. I must admit: I’m looking forward to it. Although he’d never say it, I think Malice is quietly happy his dad is back in touch, and that they have a chance to sort things out.
At times I wonder if somebody is looking out for us. Everything is . . . happening.
Malice pockets his phone, and takes my hand in his. “The moving guys will be here in ten. Ty said the idiot wasn’t there when they went in to get my stuff.”
We agreed that it would be best to ask Ty to oversee the removal of Malice’s things, to ensure the process goes without a hitch. I voiced my concern that Dylan would see what was going on, and would follow the moving truck to where we live. Malice didn’t think it would be a problem, but I insisted that we had eyes, and ears on stand by. It feels far too good to be true that Dylan wasn’t home after all, but I trust Ty.
A motorcycle tears up the street, and slows at our front yard. I look to Malice to see him smile. The rider pulls his helmet off to reveal his face, and I smile too. Bronx. I never knew the guy owned a superbike—I’d always seen him in Ty’s car until now. Bronx jogs up to the front porch where we stand, and locks hands with Malice.
“You got the drinks unpacked yet?”
“You’re early.” Malice laughs. “Nothing’s here yet.”
“Good thing I brought this then.” He pulls a flask of whiskey from his jacket, and grins.
The boys celebrate with a drink as I unlock the door, and push it wide. The smell of clean fabric and freshly polished floors fills my nostrils. I walk into the over-sized living area, and slowly turn around, taking it all in.
Our house.
Strong arms encircle my waist, and the best sound in the world fills my ears. “I love you, Jane. Welcome home.”
“I love you, too.” I turn and capture his lips with my own.
“Get a room,” Bronx calls out. His footsteps echo down the hallway. “Oh, whoa. You’ve got a few to choose from!”
Malice chuckles, and I place my cheek against his chest. The moment is perfect, too perfect, and I can’t help but wonder what exactly is about to go wrong. Nothing good lasts . . . ever.
Especially not for me.
Jane sits on the floor of what will be our room, legs crossed, looking out the large glass door to the garden filled with all the fading colors of fall. I stand in the doorway for a moment, taking her in, trying to get my head around the fact she’s mine. I never thought she would be.
We’re far from out of the woods, but the path at least has an end in sight. A few more weeks here in our own home, and a few more appointments with her therapist and I reckon she’ll have this about beaten.
And then it’ll be my turn to shake the demons. Especially the rather large one that I added to my collection last week.
“I got the heating going. The boys have headed off to take care of some work stuff. It’s only us here now, babe.”
She turns her head, and the smile she places on her beautiful lips is tainted with the ugliness of deception. “Thank you.”
I make my way over and sit beside her. Rocco pads around the room, sniffing the corners.