The table was pushed against the wall, and two of the chairs were in the middle of the living room. The music was loud, and they didn’t notice me as I stood there, watching them. Brenna was wearing a little white tank top and a long skirt. Her shirt rested high enough, and her skirt was low enough that I caught a glimpse of her tattoo spanning her waist below her belly button. I loved seeing my name there even if she liked to pretend the tattoo wasn’t for me. By the way her tits were bouncing around, I knew she didn’t have a bra on. Her tits were fantastic, but the look on her face is what had me stopped and staring. Her cheeks were stretched in the most gorgeous fuckin’ smile. It lit up the fuckin’ room.
I hadn’t seen that smile in five years.
She was swinging her hips around, but Trix was like a tornado. She was bouncing up and down and pausing with the beat of the music. She had some little cartoon pajamas on, and her wet hair was whipping around her face. She’d obviously just taken a bath. Looking at her, I still couldn’t believe how much she looked like me, but now, I saw she had Brenna’s smile. It was the most carefree I’d seen my baby girl since she’d gotten here.
Once the song sped up, they were both spinning around in the kitchen. Brenna’s red hair and Trix’s black hair were flying out in all directions as they danced. I caught a glimpse of their feet, and both of them were stomping on the cracked linoleum with the beat of the music. It reminded me of the powwows I was dragged to as a kid. I remembered an auntie telling one of my cousins to make sure her feet hit the dirt with every beat of the drum. Trix’s rhythm was crazy good for a four-year-old. She had that shit down. It was like they knew exactly what the other one was doing at all times as they twirled around each other in the tiny-ass kitchen. Their eyes were locked.
My chest started to burn when I realized they were singing to each other. They were actually dancing around the fuckin’ kitchen and singing to each other. Trix looked at Brenna like she was the best thing she’d ever fuckin’ seen, and I was wondering if that was the look other people saw on my face when I looked at them. The song said something about belonging to each other and calling each other sweetheart with the last word dragging out as they smiled.
I’d seen Brenna doing the Mom thing now for the last couple of days. I fuckin’ loved watching her do all of the simple things, like helping Trix brush her teeth. I loved the way she rested her hand on the top of Trix’s head when they were standing together, like she didn’t even know she was doing it. And I loved that she took the time to listen to every single one of Trix’s long-ass rambles about nothing in particular. But this? This totally carefree dancing-in-the-kitchen thing? It blew all of that other shit out of the water.
I fucked up five years ago. Honest mistake, but there it was. Then, I was fuckin’ sneaky and didn’t say shit about it. If I woulda just listened to Grease and not gone down that road, life would have been fuckin’ easy for me right now. A couple of times this afternoon, I asked myself if I’d do it again, if it was really fuckin’ worth it. Seeing them acting like goofs dancing around the kitchen gave me my answer.
They were the most beautiful things I had ever seen in my entire goddamn life, and they worth every fuckin’ bruise I had.
I was dancing around the kitchen with Trix when I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. I glanced over toward the front door, and just as I was about to scream, I heard Dragon’s voice from the other side of the screen.
“It’s just me, Brenna,” he said quietly as he swung the screen open.
Trix paused mid-dance, staring at my face, waiting for the all clear. It broke my heart that she picked up on the smallest body language as if she were just waiting for something bad to happen. When she heard Dragon’s voice, she spun around and ran straight for him.
“Papa!” she screamed excitedly, but as soon as she was about a foot away from him, she slammed to a halt and tilted her head up at him. “Why are you hurt? Don’t worry. I’ll be careful.” And then, she gingerly wrapped her arms around his thighs.
I didn’t notice anything off about Dragon until Trix had said something. Then, I noticed how he was holding his body. He wasn’t standing straight. His shoulders and back were slightly hunched over as if protecting the front of his body.
I knew that stance.
I looked up into his face and found myself walking closer as I noticed bruising around his jaw and a split in his bottom lip. I couldn’t read the look on his face.
“Trix, it’s time to get ready for bed,” I told my girl who was still gingerly holding Dragon’s legs and was now soothingly rubbing her hand up and down the back of them. “Put your PJs on, get a book, and climb into bed. I’ll be in there in a few minutes to tuck you in. You can brush your teeth in the morning.” I waited for her to follow my instructions, but before she did, she tilted her head way back to look at Dragon.
“I’m sorry you’re hurt, Papa,” she whispered, and I could tell my tenderhearted girl was about to cry.
“Papa’s fine, little warrior. Don’t be gettin’ upset.” Dragon ran his fingers through her hair. “You better go get ready for bed like your mom told ya.” He started to bend over as if to give her a kiss, but he winced and straightened back up.
I knew that if he couldn’t even bend over, something was seriously wrong, and I felt my palms start to sweat.
As soon as Trix ran down the hallway, Dragon reached out and braced his hand against the wall. His entire body slumped as if exhausted. I had started to freak out when I knew he was hurt, but once he braced himself on the wall, I became completely calm. I remembered feeling something like this when Trix was a baby and started choking on a piece of fruit. I’d known I had to get it out, and I immediately did the baby Heimlich maneuver even though I hadn’t ever done it before. It wasn’t until after, when she was happily playing with her toys again, that I’d broken down. The same thing happened to me as I walked toward Dragon and reached my hand out to him. As soon as he grabbed hold, I led him into the bedroom.
“Can you take off your shirt?” I asked him, surprised at how strong my voice sounded.
“It’s fine, Brenna. Doc looked at it earlier. I just need to get some sleep.”
He started to turn toward the bed, but I stopped him with a hand on his arm.
“I didn’t ask if Doc had seen it. I asked if you could take off your shirt.”
He got a weird look on his face, but he tried to reach behind his neck to grab his T-shirt. He didn’t get far before he dropped his hand down in pain. He didn’t say anything; he just lifted his chin and looked over my shoulder at the door. I felt my eyes fill with tears when I realized he wasn’t going to be able to get it off. Suddenly, looking at his wounds wasn’t nearly as important as taking off his damn shirt. Looking at it gave me a strange case of claustrophobia. I needed it off.
“Okay, it’s fine. Just stay right there. I’ll be right back,” I told him as I spun around.
I quickly checked on Trix, who was looking at a book, as I rushed down the hallway to grab some scissors from the top of the fridge. When I got back to the bedroom, Dragon was sitting down carefully on the bed.
“I got some scissors. I don’t want to try to pull it over your head, so I’m just going to cut it, okay?” I asked quickly.
“Close the door, so Trix doesn’t come in here,” he ordered.
I closed the door and noticed there was no lock, so I wedged a shoe off my dresser to semi-lock it. As soon as I was done, I reached for the hem of his shirt and cut quickly up the front of his torso. What I saw on his body was worse than I’d imagined.
His chest, belly, and ribs were one huge bruise, so dark I could barely discern the tattoos across his body. I felt the tears running down my cheeks as I slipped behind him, trying not to jostle the bed, as I pulled the rest of the shirt down his arms. His back was almost completely unblemished. I leaned forward to take a look at his chest again. Yep, it was just as bad as I thought. I didn’t understand how on earth only the front half of his body was this brui
sed.
I started to question him. “What…” Aand all of a sudden it dawned on me. “Tell me this didn’t happen because of me,” I whispered. My tears were no longer running down my cheeks; they were pouring. I could barely see out of my eyes. “Tell me that my father didn’t do this to you.”
He didn’t answer, and that was answer enough.
“Oh my god. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. So sorry…” I was shaking in disbelief and horror.
“Hey.” He reached up and brushed my hair back from my face, cupping my cheek. “This is not your fault, Brenna. You hear me? I’m an Ace. I knew what I was doing. This is not your fault.”
I could barely understand him as I sat there, shaking miserably and staring into his eyes. It was like the only thing I was aware of was my colossal fuck-up and his beautiful dark brown eyes. Before I knew it, he was pulling me onto his lap.
“Dragon, don’t! Your ribs!” I didn’t want him holding me because I didn’t want to hurt him, but I couldn’t wiggle away because that would make it even worse. I was stuck there on his lap, trying my hardest to keep from brushing up against the front of him.
“I’m fine, Brenna. It’s over, baby.” He had one hand wrapped around my waist and the other on the side of my face, his fingers weaving through the hair behind my ear. “It’s over, baby. No need for cryin’. Now, we can move the fuck on from this shit. No more repercussions. Okay?”
My tears were starting to dry on my face as I sniffled, and he gently rubbed his thumb across the apple of my cheek. It was like I was mesmerized by the look on his face, the way his body was wrapped around me.
“Baby. It’s over for us. Not just me. It’s over for you, too. You don’t have to worry about people sayin’ shit to you, Slider bein’ pissed, none of it. It’s behind us.”
He shifted forward, so the space between our faces disappeared, and I closed my eyes as he started to slowly kiss my face.
I whispered, “Okay,” as he kissed me gently across my cheek, the tip of my nose, and my forehead.
He rubbed his lips across the tears on my eyelashes, and then I felt him lick his lips. That was the trigger. I didn’t know why that single movement made me catch my breath and lift my lips toward him, but it did. All of a sudden, I was begging him to kiss me. Thankfully, he didn’t keep me waiting.
This kiss wasn’t soft. The tenderness I’d felt just moments before was completely gone, and he instantly pushed his tongue between my swollen lips. He ran it between my top lip and teeth and then brushed it across the roof of my mouth. I shuddered. I wanted to push myself against him. My heart was beating so fast that I could hear it in my ears, and I wanted nothing more in that minute than to push him onto the bed and make sure that he was okay by tracing his body with my lips. I wanted to inhale him, to pull him into my body so deep that he couldn’t ever be hurt again. I knew I was thinking crazy. Nothing was clear between us, and I didn’t know what the hell I was doing, but I wanted him, right now. But he was hurt, and he was sitting on my bed, holding himself abnormally still, so I sat pliantly in his lap, taking whatever he had to offer.
He kissed me for what seemed like forever, but still, it wasn’t long enough. His hand was clutched tightly in my hair, and every time he tugged on it, I felt small whimpers travel up my throat. Suddenly, he stood me up in front of him, and the minute I caught my balance, he lifted my tank top over my head. I quickly raised my arms to cover myself, but he grasped my wrists, and I was too conscious of his bruises to fight him.
“Damn, Brenna. You’re more beautiful than I remembered.” His voice was low, and he was staring right at my breasts.
I was totally embarrassed. Yes, he’d seen me naked before, but that was before I’d gained the massive stretch marks across my belly. I was hoping he’d be so mesmerized by my larger breasts that he wouldn’t even look farther south. My stomach used to be so smooth and toned. I’d had a belly button piercing that I proudly showed off whenever I could. Now, I could barely look at my own stomach, and there was no way in hell I’d willingly let anyone else catch a glimpse. My prayers that he would ignore everything but my boobs went unanswered. He let go of one of my wrists, and I stood there, frozen, as he reached up to trace the thickest scar on my belly.
“Is this from your belly ring?” he asked me, still running his finger up and down the scar.
It felt weird. The skin was so thin there that it was extra sensitive.
“Yeah,” I told him, my voice husky. “I took it out when I found out I was pregnant, but it didn’t heal right away. Then, it made that stretch mark a hundred times worse.”
He nodded his head and continued to stare at my stomach. When I was about to step away from him, he raised his other hand and used both to trace the silvery lines covering my torso. He was running his fingers over them, and it reminded me of the way a blind person read braille. His eyes were narrowed in concentration, resembling something close to awe. I finally managed a step away, but I paused when he looked up to catch my eye.
“I can’t believe you had my baby. She was all curled up in here, and I never saw it.” He shook his head. “This is all I’ll ever see, Brenna. This is all I get. Let me look.”
My breath caught in my throat as he spoke, and I took a small step back toward him after he explained what he was doing. He was mapping the changes like any other dad would. He didn’t get the chance to watch me grow, so now, he was following the scars like a map of what he’d missed.
I wished I could tell him all about it. I wished I could explain that I was overly large, that this many stretch marks weren’t normal, that I rarely got to sleep because there was always a baby awake in my belly, rolling around and kicking my ribs. I wished I could tell him how scared I was when I went into labor, how alone I felt, how much I missed him. But I didn’t say any of these things because if I would’ve, it could open up a discussion that I wasn’t ready for, and I didn’t think he was either.
Pounding on the door startled me back into the present, and I quickly grabbed a nightshirt and pulled it over my head. “Just a second, Trix! What do you need, baby?” I called through the door.
“I want Papa to tuck me in tonight! Okay?” she called back to me.
For a moment, I was in shock, but quickly afterward, I was jealous. She had never asked for anyone but me. I knew he was her dad, but I’d always done this on my own. She’d never asked for Tony to do anything with her. It had always been Trix and me against the world.
Before I could answer her, Dragon did it for me. “I’ll be right out, little warrior. Get in bed!” He slowly pushed himself to his feet. “Brenna, grab me a shirt outta my bag.” He nodded his head toward the end of the bed where I saw a black duffel bag.
“You could ask, you know?” I grumbled as I unzipped it and started pawing through his clothes.
“You want Trix to see me like this?” He gestured toward his chest.
“No, but—” I started to grumble again.
“Are you really trying to start a fight with me right now? I gotta tell you, I’m not in the mood.” He swayed a little on his feet.
I tossed a shirt at him that had snaps along the front. “Whatever. Just go tuck Trix in.”
I watched as he gingerly tried to slip the shirt up his arms, but it was a struggle because the muscles in his shoulders were so broad. I watched him for a second before I went over to help him pull it up. It was hard to watch him struggle at anything; he was usually so strong and self-assured. I couldn’t stand the thought of anything bringing him low. I started snapping the shirt from the bottom to the top, and when I glanced up at his face, he was grinning at me.
“You just can’t help yourself, can you? You were bitchin’ at me about fifteen seconds ago, and now, you’re dressing me like I’m Trix.” He shook his head. “So damn sweet, baby.”
My face was on fire. Fuck, this was embarrassing. I was just dressing him like a five-year-old, and I didn’t even realize it.
“Why don’t you get undressed and g
et into bed?” he whispered as he grabbed a hold of my head with both hands. “I’ll get Trix to bed and come back and trace all of those parts I haven’t seen in so long.” He kissed my lips softly and then finished talking against my mouth. “Remember how good it was, baby? How sensitive you are on your thighs? That sweet spot right under your ass cheeks? Fuck, I can’t wait to taste you.” He gave me one last kiss, his tongue rimming my lips, before he pulled open the door and went to Trix.
I stood there for a second, my body on fire and my thoughts scrambling, before I got it together. Twice in one night, he’d made me want to climb him like a tree. My panties were uncomfortably wet, and I wanted to change, but I couldn’t decide what to wear to bed. It would probably be a good idea to change into some flannel pajamas, considering the fact that the man was beaten to a pulp earlier, but it was just too damn hot in the house for anything more than what I was wearing.
He was out of his mind if he thought I was just going to strip down and do the dirty with him. Shit. My thoughts were all over the place tonight. I didn’t want to want him. I wasn’t even sure that Trix and I would be staying here for any length of time, and there were things that Dragon didn’t know, things I needed to tell him before we got into whatever this was any deeper.
I did want him though. My body ached for him. I wanted to lose myself in him and never worry about anything ever again. I was so tired of being the strong one; it would be nice to lean on someone else for a while. The problem with leaning on Dragon was that it could become a habit. I didn’t really know him anymore—if I ever really did in the first place. One night together did not make a relationship. I needed to figure out my head before I had sex with him. Mind-blowing, orgasm-inducing, wet, sweaty sex…shit! I didn’t think I was going to be able to resist him, and even though it was a very, very bad idea, I wasn’t sure that I wanted to.