"Oh, yeah, I liked one but they didn't have it here so I ordered it. They'll FedEx it to us."
"Hmmm," I reply thoughtfully before I remember to get my phone out to check it. Four missed calls. Three text messages. The calls are from Aubry, Aimee, Becky, and two from Connor. Odd. I scroll to open the text messages.
Connor: You wanna come over for dinner on Friday with my pops and stuff?
Unknown Number: Chick, call me. We need to talk.
Unknown Number: Just making sure you're all right, chick. Just hit me back.
I reply to Connor's text message saying that I'll think about it. I'm not sure I have the courage or will to meet those people yet. I make a quick reply to Dean while Cole is still typing away on his own phone.
Me: I'm fine. I'll call you this week. Out of town.
Unknown Number: Thanks for the reply. Let me know when you get back.
I have to figure out how to tell Cole that I'm in touch with Dean, but I'm not going to ruin our trip over that. I'll tell him when we get home.
"Are you coming over for dinner tonight?" Connor asks as he sorts through everything inside my fridge.
"I don't know, Con. This whole thing still has me kind of on edge."
"Still?" he asks incredulously.
Connor has been pretty much a fixture in our home ever since I got home from the hospital, but since we got back from New York a few weeks ago, he seems to have practically moved in here. He leaves at night because that's when he works, not that he has a legitimate job, but that's neither here nor there since we don't discuss it. At first I was hesitant to have him around, knowing what I know about him and the people in his family—our family, I guess. But he's a good guy, that much is obvious. And Cole trusts him.
After the New York assignment, Cole has been called on five different ones. I accompanied him to two of them before deciding that I couldn't just trail him every time he went away to work. His absence is starting to bother me, even though I know it shouldn't. It never bothered me before and I understand that work is work. I just wish his job didn't demand him getting on an airplane every other day! It seems like we haven't had time to be together and work on our relationship now that we're together again.
I know that's entirely my fault because I act like everything is fine when he's around, even when I don't feel like it is. We haven't spoken about the time we were apart other than his questions on whether or not they fed me, if they touched me, where they kept me. I'm half scared to ask what he was up to, even though he's made it pretty clear that he was going through hell. Connor has been hanging around our apartment every day, and Aubry usually comes over later on after work. Aimee comes over sometimes when she takes a break from studying for the Bar, but even when she does that she brings her book along and studies here. I still have no clue what I'm going to do with myself or whether or not I want to take the test or do something else. The more time that passes, the less I want to practice law, though. I started on that path because I thought I could help people. I thought I could keep monsters behind bars, but after what happened to me, I'm not so sure anybody can.
"I don't know, I just don't think I'd feel comfortable in your grandfather's house, you know?"
He turns around, his blond brows crinkling in confusion. "Your grandfather too, you know. And I think you'd feel safe around them."
"Safe around them?" I ask in disbelief. "Safe around a bunch of men that go around killing people?"
"They don't go around killing people." He laughs before his face grows serious and he purses his lips as if to contemplate it. "I mean, I guess...whatever, it doesn't matter. Nobody's gonna die in front of you. It's not like we walk around the house flashing our guns around."
"Yeah, I'm sure you don't," I say with an eye roll before nodding pointedly to his hip where I know he has his gun.
"I carry it on my back," he replies casually as he turns around and lifts up his loose T-shirt revealing his toned back and the tip of the cross tattoo he has splayed on it. The handgun is tucked into his jeans. "But not when we're at home. Ma would kill me if she saw one on me."
"Hmm. Tell me about her," I say, making my way to the couch so he can follow me. Connor has practically become my free personal therapist, but better because he doesn't ask me stupid questions like "how did that make you feel?" He just sits there and laughs or comments once in a while. It feels good being able to rant to someone. Normally that someone would be Becky, but I still have some healing to do before I can get back to normal with her. I let her ramble on about how much her back hurts, but I'd rather not say too much because I don't want to say the wrong thing and make her feel bad that I'm not pregnant and she is. She doesn't deserve to not enjoy this time in her life.
"She's cool, you'd like her. Real quiet, cooks a mean meal, over protective. I don't know, just a regular mom, I guess," he replies with a shrug.
"What's her name?"
"Cindy," he replies as he dips his nacho in the cheese sauce he heated up.
"And your dad is Michael...my Uncle Michael." I state half-heartedly.
He laughs as he crunches on the nacho. "Yeah, hopefully you'll see him again soon. He's always out of town though, spends more time in Boston than he does here these days. Anyway, you know my mom's Cindy, my dad's Michael and my son is Elijah, are gonna go over this again?"
I smile at him, he talks more about his three-year-old son than he does anything else. It's cute, and makes me laugh when he says the things he does. It's hard to believe he rarely sees him since he lives a couple of hours away.
"Didn't you say he's staying with you this weekend?" I ask.
"He is, my ex is bringing him over on Friday. Should be fun," he says, the scar on his top lip expanding as he smiles widely.
"So she brings him over and goes back home? How does that work?" I ask curiously.
"Sometimes she stays, sometimes she goes back. Depends, I guess," he says with a small shrug as he flips through channels.
"How come you've never shown me any pictures of him?"
A smile plays on his face as he turns his attention to me. "You've never asked."
He shifts on the couch and takes his cell phone out of his pocket and starts to sort through it, his blond brows furrowed in concentration until he reaches the photo he wants and smiles at the screen.
"This is him last month at Navy Pier." He extends the phone to me and I take it in my hand, fumbling when I see the photograph.
A loud gasp escapes me as my jaw unhinges on its own accord. "Oh my God. What the hell?" I ask looking at him wide-eyed.
Connor chuckles and shakes his head. "Dean showed you a picture before, huh? I swear he shows him off any chance he gets"
I uncurl my legs from under me and stand up waving the phone dramatically in front of him. "How could you not tell me?"
His eyes widen before he begins to laugh. "Was I supposed to? What difference does it make?"
I narrow my eyes at him, pursing my lips before realizing that it doesn't make a difference to me that my cousin is an ex brother-in-law with Dean. It's still a little weird though, and I can't help but to play out different family function scenarios in my head. Will he be there? Will his sister be there? How awkward will it be with Cole and Dean in the same room all the time? Is Dean even allowed to step foot in a Benson house?
"What does your grandfather think of all that?" I ask curiously.
"What's he supposed to think? Nothing," Connor says with a shrug. "He loves his great grand-kid, what's there to think about?"
"Why aren't you with your ex then?"
Connor lets out a breath. "How much time you got?" he asks with a laugh.
"Loads," I reply with a raised eyebrow.
"Sit your ass back down then!"
I sit in the couch across from his and curl my feet beneath me before I click the button on his phone to turn it back on and continue staring at the picture of the smiley blond boy with brown eyes.
"So?" I ask expectantly.
&n
bsp; "You can scroll through them, by the way. I don't have any naked pictures on there or anything," he says and laughs when he sees my horrified face.
"You're such a clown. Continue—I believe you were about to tell me why it is that you're not with the beautiful woman in the pictures."
Connor rolls his eyes. "There's not much to it, I guess. Sandra and I were high school sweethearts, got married right after graduation, had a kid two years later and separated a year and a half after that." He adds a shrug for good measure to try to bore me or keep his story as nonchalant as possible, but I'm not going to let it go.
"Huh. So why the separation part? You're not legally divorced?"
"Nah, divorces cost money."