“I know, baby.”
“I’ll never let that touch Billy and Billie.” My hands clenched his lapels again and I got up on my toes to get in his face. “I promise, Mitch. Never.”
His eyes bored into mine and he whispered, “Fucking hell, honey, wherever you are now, get the fuck outta there and come back to me.”
I shook my head and kept on target. “You can tell them, anyone, you tell them I promised you and I’ll make certain of it. I’d die before I let that touch those kids, Mitch. I swear to God. I knew he was a drunk and I knew he got high but I never knew it got that bad. I never knew they saw. I never knew they saw what he did. I never knew it until I saw it when you saw it. I knew it was bad but I didn’t know it was that bad. I wouldn’t have left them there if I knew it. Swear to God. Swear to God.” My hands clenched harder into his lapels. “They’re out now and they’re never going back. I promise, no matter how hard it gets, what it costs, they’re never going back.” I pulled his lapels out slightly then pushed them in and whispered, “I swear to God, they’re never going back.”
His hand slid from my hair to curl around the side of my head and his face got within an inch of mine. “Mara, baby, come back to me.”
I didn’t go back to him.
I went back to my earlier, far, far more important theme.
“We’ll never work,” I whispered.
“Mara, stop it and come back to me.”
“The likes of you aren’t for the likes of me,” I told him softly.
“Jesus, baby,” he said softly back, his thumb sweeping my cheekbone, his eyes roaming my face.
“I need to go.”
“You’re not gonna go.”
“I need to go,” I stated urgently.
“Sweetheart, I’m not gonna let you go. You were right, we need to talk.”
“I need to go,” I warned, “before it’s too late.”
He opened his mouth to speak but it was too late.
There was a loud knock in the breezeway. Not at Mitch’s door. Distant.
I knew it was at mine when I heard my mother shout, “Marabelle Jolene Hanover! We’re done fuckin’ with you! Open this goddamned, fuckin’ door!”
Not again!
I froze in Mitch’s arms, my head jerking toward his door and I felt his arms get tight.
Then I tipped my head back to see he’d pressed his lips together like he was fighting against a smile and my eyes narrowed on his mouth, not finding one thing funny. Then something came to me and my eyes shot to his.
“My name is Marabelle Jolene Hanover,” I told him in a whisper.
“What?” he whispered back but that one word trembled and I knew it was with suppressed laughter.
“If that isn’t a trailer trash name… for trailer trash,” I added, “then nothing is.”
His lips twitched and he muttered, “Baby.”
“It is, admit it,” I pushed.
“Actually, I think it’s pretty.”
He was so full of it.
“It’s trailer trash,” I returned.
He shook his head, his lips twitching.
Twitching!
Then he said, “It’s pretty. It’s even kinda sweet. And it’s both these things because it’s yours.”
My name wasn’t sweet.
But he was.
Argh!
I changed tactics.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“You know my name,” he answered.
“Your full name,” I pressed.
“Mitchell James Lawson,” he told me.
“Right,” I mumbled and his arms gave me another squeeze.
“And?” he asked.
“Your name is the name of a hot cop, a hot baseball player or the third cousin of a king.”
His body started shaking as he turned his head in an unsuccessful attempt to hide his smile.
“Marabelle!” I heard Mom screech. “We’re sortin’ this shit right… fuckin’…now!”
I closed my eyes.
“They’ll go away in a minute and I’ll call North to tell them we’re gonna be late,” Mitch said calmly and I opened my eyes to stare at him, not calmly. In fact, I was pretty certain my eyes were bugging out of my head.
“Mitch!” I hissed.
“It’s gonna be all right,” Mitch soothed, his hands traveling up and down my back, most of which was bare, so this felt really good. “I’m giving them this one. I don’t have time to deal with their bullshit and get you to dinner. They’ll give up and go away then we can go eat and we’ll talk while we eat.”
Jeez, he was stubborn.
Of course, I was too but I decided not to think about my stubbornness. Only his.
“We’re not going to work,” I whispered, again returning to my earlier theme (see? Stubborn).