“I don’t think he’d care. Probably be happy.”
“I seriously doubt that.”
“Whatever. You working today?”
“Tonight. I wanted to see if you wanted to hit the mall with me to look for a new pair of jeans and grab lunch at Bookers. There’s bound to be some good sales.”
“Does a fat kid love cake?”
“I know I did.” I finish my coffee and work on folding the two baskets of laundry that are in desperate need of attention. Yara loves when I come over because I clean and help catch her up on chores. My sister is one of those people who can’t focus on completing one task. She goes to wash the dishes but needs to clean the sink first only then she realizes she’s out of bleach or something. So then she goes to the store and remembers she needs to grab something for dinner and on the way home she has to get gas. By the time she gets home and puts her groceries away she’s too tired to cook and orders a pizza or Whiskey stops to get something on his way home.
I get exhausted thinking about it. By the time she’s ready I’ve moved to making the twin’s beds and emptying the trash.
“You’re seriously the best. Whiskey should’ve married you.” She snorts.
“That’s not funny. You know he worships the ground you walk on.”
“Ha. Sure he does.”
I make a face, but she waves me off. She seriously doesn’t get how good she’s got it with him. I know the grass isn’t always greener on the other side and all that. Still though, he always puts her first.
We take separate cars because knowing my sister she will need to make ten other stops after the mall, and I want to get home to take a nap before my shift later.
It’s early enough the mall isn’t super crowded, which is good for me because it means I don’t have to wait in line to get a cookie from the cookie store. I know it will go straight to my ass and thighs, but I can’t come to the mall and skip a cookie. They are the best thing since pockets. I buy two chocolate chip ones with frosting on them for a treat for the twins later from their favorite auntie if Yara doesn’t forget about them. She’s always doing some kind of diet trying to drop the last twenty pounds of her pregnancy weight. Although at this point with them in preschool it’s safe to say it’s no longer baby weight.
She doesn’t need to lose weight, but you can’t tell her that. The stubborn bitch won’t listen. Not to me or her husband. Yara is like our mother in that way. I stick the cookies in her purse and save half of mine for later.
While I’m in Victoria’s Secret hunting for the perfect new bra she stops at one of those kiosks to buy fidget toys for the twins. They are way into bubble poppers. I could probably build a rubber room to lock myself up in out of the collection they have already amassed from Christmas.
I hold up a red see through bra that is sure to get a reaction from Death when a familiar face passes by the store window. Jimbo. He works mall security and picks up extra shifts at The Terminal on his days off. He gives me a wave and I stupidly shake the bra at him.
Ugh. Pink tinges my cheeks. I don’t need him thinking I’m trying to flirt with him or something. He tried asking me out a year ago. There’s nothing wrong with him per say. The guy simply isn’t my type.
He’s on the short side and I am one of those girls who likes my man to be taller than I am. Plus he talks nonstop about Anime series. That’s cool that its his thing. I just don’t want to hear about it every five minutes. I’m certain he still lives with his mother. I grab the matching thong to the bra and pay.
I find a perfect pair of jeans in American Eagle that hug my ass but have some stretch to them to be comfortable enough to work in. Whiskey called and asked Yara to lunch so I go to Bookers alone which is fine by me. I don’t have a problem going out to eat solo. Bookers is a bookstore slash café type deal that serves the most amazing sandwiches and soups along with coffee and tea.
The place is way cool. You can shop books while waiting for your food. Spring through Fall on the other side of them is a greenhouse, but I don’t go there often since I don’t have a yard of my own but if I did, I’d get my plants and flowers from there.
I order my grill cheese panini and tomato soup. I haven’t treated myself to a new book in a few months. I haven’t had the time, but I grab a romance that the cover catches my eye. I start back to my table with my book when I spot my mother. Shit. I hope she doesn’t see me.
I hide behind a tall leafy plant and observe her. She’s got some nonfiction self help books. My blood freezes when I see the title for one of them.Thirteen Ways to Spice Up Your Marriage. What the hell? What happened to her perfect life? Looks like there’s trouble in paradise.
Chapter 12
I pull up to the house and shut my truck off. I sit and stare at the house. Bigger than we needed for the three of us. Five bedrooms. Inground pool. Three car garage. Half of me doesn’t want to exit my truck to walk inside. It killed me not to pull in at the apartments and follow Freya inside, but I’m a father and my child comes first.
Blowing out a breath I go inside before I stick my key back in the ignition and go chasing after pussy. I kick off my boots. Belinda has a shit fit if I wear them through the house. I hang my jacket and my cut and head upstairs to a room I’ve never slept in. A room I only enter if I have to.
The door hangs open and the bedside lamp is still on. Belinda is propped on her pillow, her light brown hair fanned out on her pillow. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she is posing for a damn picture or some shit. Bitch has her tits pushed up and practically hanging out of a tight silky tank top. Bensen is curled next to her facing in the opposite direction. He’s a bit pale but doesn’t seem to be running a temperature. I don’t want to wake either of them after what sounds like a long night for the two of them. I switch the lamp off and leave the door cracked in case he wakes up. I can hear him from my room down the hall. I drew a line at sharing a bed with her. Wasn’t any point in laying next to a woman I didn’t want who also wasn’t a fan of me or dicks in general.
When Bensen was a baby, I had thoughts of us maybe trying to make it a go, but the connection was never there. I respect her as the mother of my boy but that’s as far as it goes for me. I strip down and change into a pair of flannel pajama pants and climb into bed feeling like I’m a trespasser. A stranger who doesn’t belong here. I love my kid, but I want out of this sham. I figured one of us would have met someone by now. I thought Petra was going to be my out. That she’d make Belinda want more than this. A man she doesn’t love sleeping down the hall from her. A man who shows up out of necessity not out of the desire to.
She can’t be happy.
I sure as fuck am not.
I lay in this bed with thoughts of Freya filtering through my head. I am totally fucked. No matter what I do I’m going to hurt her. If she were smart, she’d run far from me. Find a better man. Make a life for herself away from this club. Away from Hell, Tennessee. She’d be like her mother. I know Cate had her reasons and I played my role in Crow keeping his kids, but bitch should’ve fought harder to take her girls with her.