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Authors: s m blooding
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lost. Three years without even asking about Leah or trying to get secret messages to her. Three years without pictures. Three years without presents at Christmas or cards at birthdays.
People had died because of her.
Dexx scooted the both of them across the floor, to lean up against the bed post. He didn’t stop holding her.
Her eyes were puffy and sore. Pressure built in her sinuses, giving her one heck of a headache. She lay against him, spent, feeling like a total loser.
“All done?” he asked.
“Yeah.” That was a lie. She didn’t think she’d ever find the bottom of this bucket of misery, no matter how many tears she syphoned from it.
She felt his lips press against the top of her head before he rested his cheek there. She listened to his heartbeat, listened to him breathe, while his strong arms stayed wrapped around her.
“Tell me that everything will be okay,” she said in a near whisper.
“I won’t lie to you. There’s been too much of that already.”
She nodded, her eyes starting to feel like eyes again.
“But I will say that we’ll do our best.”
She felt comfortable for the first time in years. She felt safe. She knew it couldn’t last, but she would take what she could for as long as she could. She fell asleep to the sound of his heart beside her ear.
Paige woke to the sound of the lock being knocked back.
Dexx stirred under her, but didn’t make any move to get up. “It’s about goddamned time,” he grumbled. “Alma, what took you so long?”
“We were trying to find arrangements for the kids.” Alma’s voice was gruff.
“I thought Leslie said Tru was going to watch them.”
Paige started to get up, but Dexx stopped her with his arm. It wasn’t a threatening embrace. He was offering support if she were willing to accept it. The time to put on the game face had come, but it felt so good to stay. She sank back into his arms, ignoring her numb butt. He couldn’t be too comfortable either.
Alma walked into view and stood assessing the two of them, her shoulders slumped with age.
Paige looked up at her grandmother and pulled away from Dexx a bit. As much as she’d missed the old woman’s craggy, heavy-set and leather-worn face, she couldn’t get around the betrayal lodged in her chest. Alma’s long, white hair was pulled back in a fraying braid that proved they’d kept the windows open. The old woman’s eyes, one blue, one cataract white, watched her, weighing her and measuring.
“How are you doing?” Alma hedged.
Paige wasn’t sure how she wanted to respond. Yes. A few hours ago, she’d felt a world of grief, but the reality of the situation was that her grief had blossomed years ago. Time, for all that the memories had been forgotten, had at the very least dampened the sharp, bitter edge.
But this woman had raised her, had treated her like her own daughter. Alma was her mother. The betrayal was fresh, pungent and acidic. One half of Paige wanted to handle the situation like a mature, adult woman, see her grandmother’s side, understand, deal.
The other half wanted to punch the old woman in the gut and sneer as she demanded to know how it felt to be struck down by a person she trusted with her entire being.
Dexx held her close. She could feel him tip his head at the older woman, but he said nothing.
“How worried should I be?” Alma asked.
“You know what?” Dexx’s voice was filled with frustration. “The woman hasn’t called a demon to kill you yet, so I say win-win for both teams.”
Alma raised her chin.
He gestured with his hands in a futile motion before settling them on Paige’s arm and waist again. “Could we just deal with this situation like you should have three years ago?”
Alma crossed her arms over her large chest.
“Please?”
“Hey,” a new voice called from the door.
Paige turned toward the door without breaking contact with Dexx. Tru stood there looking like the nerd he was. His shaggy blonde-brown hair hung below the
People had died because of her.
Dexx scooted the both of them across the floor, to lean up against the bed post. He didn’t stop holding her.
Her eyes were puffy and sore. Pressure built in her sinuses, giving her one heck of a headache. She lay against him, spent, feeling like a total loser.
“All done?” he asked.
“Yeah.” That was a lie. She didn’t think she’d ever find the bottom of this bucket of misery, no matter how many tears she syphoned from it.
She felt his lips press against the top of her head before he rested his cheek there. She listened to his heartbeat, listened to him breathe, while his strong arms stayed wrapped around her.
“Tell me that everything will be okay,” she said in a near whisper.
“I won’t lie to you. There’s been too much of that already.”
She nodded, her eyes starting to feel like eyes again.
“But I will say that we’ll do our best.”
She felt comfortable for the first time in years. She felt safe. She knew it couldn’t last, but she would take what she could for as long as she could. She fell asleep to the sound of his heart beside her ear.
Paige woke to the sound of the lock being knocked back.
Dexx stirred under her, but didn’t make any move to get up. “It’s about goddamned time,” he grumbled. “Alma, what took you so long?”
“We were trying to find arrangements for the kids.” Alma’s voice was gruff.
“I thought Leslie said Tru was going to watch them.”
Paige started to get up, but Dexx stopped her with his arm. It wasn’t a threatening embrace. He was offering support if she were willing to accept it. The time to put on the game face had come, but it felt so good to stay. She sank back into his arms, ignoring her numb butt. He couldn’t be too comfortable either.
Alma walked into view and stood assessing the two of them, her shoulders slumped with age.
Paige looked up at her grandmother and pulled away from Dexx a bit. As much as she’d missed the old woman’s craggy, heavy-set and leather-worn face, she couldn’t get around the betrayal lodged in her chest. Alma’s long, white hair was pulled back in a fraying braid that proved they’d kept the windows open. The old woman’s eyes, one blue, one cataract white, watched her, weighing her and measuring.
“How are you doing?” Alma hedged.
Paige wasn’t sure how she wanted to respond. Yes. A few hours ago, she’d felt a world of grief, but the reality of the situation was that her grief had blossomed years ago. Time, for all that the memories had been forgotten, had at the very least dampened the sharp, bitter edge.
But this woman had raised her, had treated her like her own daughter. Alma was her mother. The betrayal was fresh, pungent and acidic. One half of Paige wanted to handle the situation like a mature, adult woman, see her grandmother’s side, understand, deal.
The other half wanted to punch the old woman in the gut and sneer as she demanded to know how it felt to be struck down by a person she trusted with her entire being.
Dexx held her close. She could feel him tip his head at the older woman, but he said nothing.
“How worried should I be?” Alma asked.
“You know what?” Dexx’s voice was filled with frustration. “The woman hasn’t called a demon to kill you yet, so I say win-win for both teams.”
Alma raised her chin.
He gestured with his hands in a futile motion before settling them on Paige’s arm and waist again. “Could we just deal with this situation like you should have three years ago?”
Alma crossed her arms over her large chest.
“Please?”
“Hey,” a new voice called from the door.
Paige turned toward the door without breaking contact with Dexx. Tru stood there looking like the nerd he was. His shaggy blonde-brown hair hung below the
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