Hold On Tight(72)

DEWAYNE

She was pissed. Well, she could be pissed. I was going to fucking live on this porch if I had to. The woman was going to listen to me. I wasn’t leaving her. I wasn’t letting this shit take her away from me. Not when she was finally mine. I wouldn’t give her up. This life with her was my future. So she could be pissed. I’d wait it out. I had cookies, coffee, and a sleeping bag. Game on.

“What are you doing?” she demanded as she stepped out onto the porch and closed the door behind her.

“Staying as close to what’s mine as I can,” I replied.

That affected her. I didn’t miss the flash in her eyes before she shut it away. I was taking anything she gave me. I just wanted her.

“This is messing with Micah’s emotions. He doesn’t understand this. You can’t just do this and not care about how it looks to him.”

One day when he met the woman who would be it for him, who he couldn’t live without, I would remind him of this time and he’d know that you fought for what you wanted. You didn’t let her go. Women were fucking complicated, but the right one turned the shit in life to gold with a simple smile.

And of course a magic pussy. Probably wouldn’t tell Micah about that, though.

“I reckon I’m teaching him a life lesson,” I replied, setting my thermos down and standing up. “He’ll see that if you love a woman, you fight like hell to hold on to her. And you don’t fucking walk away when things get tough.”

Sienna went so still I was positive she’d stopped breathing. I wasn’t sure what the hell I’d said to put that look on her face, but she wasn’t moving.

“Take a fucking breath, Little Red.” The woman was trying to scare the shit out of me.

She took a deep breath and shook her head, then turned away to look out at the yard. Then back at me, then back at the yard. “You can’t say that,” she finally said after all that fidgeting.

“What can’t I say, baby?” I asked. Watching her flustered reaction was damn cute. If she wasn’t careful, I was going to close this distance she was putting between us.

“You can’t, you just can’t . . . you can’t say that you love me,” she said, putting her small fists on her hips and trying to glare at me.

“I reckon I can tell you I love you if I fucking want to. You can kick my ass out of your house. You can be mad at me, and you can make me sleep on this damn porch. But you can’t stop me from telling you that I love you. Every single inch of you. I love your smile, your laugh, the way you light up a room, your kindness, your strength, your stubbornness, your fucking magic pussy. I love all of it.”

A sob broke free, and then she was crying. Shit!

Screw this space shit. I took three long strides to her and pulled her into my arms. “I tell you I love you and you cry. I ain’t that bad. I got some good qualities. Number one being you’re the only woman I’ve ever loved. I loved you when you were a girl, and I love you now. Always just loved you.”

She sobbed harder, but this time her hands grabbed my shirt and she held on to me tightly. That was a start.

“I love my brother. But he fucked up. Everything. He made bad decisions and he didn’t know what he had. That night, the night he was killed, I went to find him. Heard he was drinking and partying, and he had a game the next day. And I found him with her. I got so fucking angry. He had you. Why would he need anyone else? I said things I shouldn’t to a drunk sixteen-year-old boy, and he was coming to you that night because I told him I was telling you. I wasn’t letting him do that to you. He panicked and raced out drunk and got behind the wheel before I could stop him.” I paused and took a deep breath. The tightness in my chest was there again. That night was a nightmare I would live with my entire life.

“I was about five minutes behind him. I was blocked in at the party, and by the time I got my car out, he’d already wrapped his around a tree. I was too late to save him. I wasn’t smart. I got angry and I said things I can’t take back.”

Sienna wasn’t crying anymore. She had gone still and quiet in my arms.

This was the truth. She wanted the truth, and it was ugly. It was something I would never be able to get over. But it was the fucking truth.

“He got behind that wheel. He was the one who got drunk. You didn’t make him do either of those things,” she said, her head tilted back to look up at me.

I knew that, but I also knew he had been too young to make the right decisions. So ultimately it had been my fault. I hadn’t handled it right, and he’d lost his life.

“I loved you then,” I told her again. I needed her to understand. For years I had beat myself up about it. I had fucked women. Lots of redheads, trying like hell to forget she ever existed. But my world had lit up like a fucking Christmas tree when she’d walked around that corner in those cutoff shorts. Seeing her again—it had been a jolt I hadn’t known I needed. I had just been surviving. Not really living. I was watching my friends live around me, but I wasn’t living. I was getting by. Making it day to day.