I made a mental note to stash some extra cash away to donate when I had it too. If there was anything the world needed more of, it was safe havens for women who were escaping shitty situations. I didn’t think I would have been able to do it on my own if I had kids to worry about too.
“Dark mood,” Shane mumbled down at me so no one else could hear.
“No, not dark,” I explained, shaking my head. “It’s hard to explain.”
“If it helps any to know, on top of whatever Fee and Hunt gave, the rest of us each gave five K in donations too. They’ll be doing a lot of good around here.”
My eyes looked over and found Helen watching us and, feeling it down to my bones, feeling it expand outward like it was going to make me bust if I didn’t say it, so I did. “You really raised some good men,” I told her, making her smile spread.
She looked at them all briefly, landing on Shane as she answered. “Yeah, I guess I did.”
With that, everyone went to work.
Well, the men did.
Helen, Fee, and I went to the kitchen for coffee, enjoying a family full of alpha men who insisted they do the heavy lifting, even if that maybe did set us back a couple years feminism-wise.
A few hours later, the men came in, sweaty, hungry, and took the meat out of the fridge to go grill off. Then, accepting our break was done, we all set to making sides.
And I felt it then too.
Comfort.
Rightness.
Home.
What I didn’t know then, though, was that shit was about to hit the fan in just about every way possible.—-We had been back from Fee’s for a couple hours, both showered and changed. Shane, into his around-the-house usual: low slung sweatpants and nothing else. Me into mine, panties and one of his oversize tees. He had been in the kitchen then upstairs for a while. I had been flicking around the TV, not particularly interested in anything I found.
Then Shane’s laptop came flying across the bed and landed half-on, half-off my leg.
“What the fuck is that?” Shane’s voice growled. When I looked up, he was gesturing toward the laptop.
Right then, realization hit.
No way. No way was I that friggen stupid, that careless.
But as my eyes drifted down to the screen, I realized I was.
I had been upset and I had slammed the lid shut. But I hadn’t closed the tabs.
Christ.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.
“Lea,” Shane’s voice said and it sounded like a demand. My eyes went up to find him, his body rigid, his jaw so tight that a muscle ticked there, his eyes hard. I felt my lips part, looking for an excuse, looking for a way to brush it aside, feeling nothing but an odd mix of worry, guilt, shame, embarrassment, and bone-deep fear. “Hey,” he said, voice softening as he moved toward the bed. My traitorous face must have betrayed me yet again. He moved to sit in his usual spot, back propped up against the wall beside where I was sitting cross-legged. He took the laptop, turning the screen away and half-closing the lid. “Didn’t mean to yell. That shit caught me off-guard,” he explained and I understood. Hell, I wasn’t even mad that he yelled. I would have yelled too.
I brought a hand up, running it through my hair as I looked down at the tangled bedsheets. “It’s fine.”
“Not really,” he said, hand landing on my knee with a squeeze. “But it’s time, Lea. We’ve been pussy-footing around this for long enough now. I get that it’s a sore spot or a giant, gaping wound. But you need to let me in on it.”
“Shane, I can’t. Really, you don’t under…”
“Right. I don’t understand. Because you won’t tell me. I was going to let it rest, give you time. I figured that whatever the dickhead did was in the past and you were slowly trying to move on from it. I thought that, despite whatever damage you have inside, that you were free of it. This shit,” he said, bumping his leg into the laptop, “says you aren’t free from it. Not only that, but it’s a threat. I get that we are new and you are still holding onto the idea that you don’t need me for anything, but let me let you in on something here. I am not the type of man who lets his woman, doesn’t fuckin’ matter how newly he is his woman, get threatened by exes. I don’t tolerate the fact that he is doing shit to try to guilt you back to him. And I sure as fuck don’t let you walk around like this shit isn’t happening. This is happening. I get that it hurts. I get that you’re scared. But I can’t take care of you if I don’t know exactly what I am up against.”