A War Like Ours Page 7

  “Daddy, what’s wrong?”

  I looked at my daughter’s angelic face and remembered all the times I had avoided her, kept my distance so she could remain untouched by my sins. After only three days of being together, without Nat as a buffer, my efforts to keep distance seemed preposterous. How could I stay away from the most precious thing in the world? She was my everything.

  “Nothing. Why don’t you try to get some sleep?”

  “But did he tell her? Did he tell the girl that he liked her?”

  I bent down and kissed her forehead, inhaling her baby shampoo. If I believed in prayer, I would have prayed on my knees until they scraped and bled to freeze this moment for all eternity. I was simply one of a million fathers spending time with his daughter. Not a liar. Not abnormal.

  “Yes, he did. And they became friends.”

  “Yay,” she said in a tiny murmur before closing her eyes and hugging my arm. “And did he do better?”

  No. “He’s…trying.”

  Chapter Five

  Madison

  “Here.” Julia’s outstretched hand hovered in my vision. On it were two tiny white pills.

  I couldn’t help but watch her skin, so pale and beautiful. Sunlight streamed through the kitchen window and fell on her blonde hair. Even I had to admit it was beautiful, and I didn’t even like the damn sunlight most of the time. Too cheery for my taste. I’d just come back from my run, and we were eating breakfast at the kitchen island—bacon and scrambled eggs. Julia’s creation.

  “Thanks.” I took the offered pills and stared at them. They represented her love for me. She fed me, she remembered my pills, she let me live in her house. God! She was a saint.

  And last night, while sleeping beside her, I dreamt of him. James.

  I shifted on my barstool, uncomfortable when I thought of him and his lying…sexy lips. No, not sexy. They weren’t sexy. They were too plump, if you asked me. Too plump and too…well, bitable.

  Okay, fine. So yesterday I’d felt something that I hadn’t felt in a long time. I’d felt attracted to a man. Attracted to James. It was musky and swollen and a little wild.

  I shifted on my seat again. Every time I thought of him, I got this weird burn in my chest.

  “Are you okay?” Julia asked. “Why are you staring at the pills like that?”

  “Nothing. I just, you know, just thinking how much you do for me.” I shrugged, fisting the pills.

  Her eyes swept over my face. “That’s because I know you need me and I love you.”

  “I do need you, don’t I?” I agreed. “Well, thanks for…everything. I know I don’t say it enough but—”

  “What’s the matter with you?” She furrowed her brows. “You never talk like that.”

  Great. Now she thought something was wrong because I was being nice. Well, she was right. I was never nice or sappy. What was up with me today, anyway?

  So yes, I felt some stupid, hormonal attraction to James yesterday. He made me feel…things. And if we were being honest, then I would say I was flattered with his reaction to me, too. Hell yeah, he wanted me. I could see it in his stormy eyes. There was lust and heat. But that was normal. Women liked that sort of thing. Ain’t nothing wrong with that.

  Problem solved.

  Besides, he was a liar. I couldn’t stress it enough. I admitted I was in no position to judge, but come on. How could he lie to his own daughter, even when he knew he wouldn’t get away with it?

  I looked at Julia, and that burn in my chest intensified. What was it? I’d never felt this way before. “Yeah, I don’t know, I just felt that I don’t say it enough maybe.”

  She smiled. “It’s okay.” Getting up, she rounded the island to drop a gentle kiss on my lips. “You don’t have to. I get all the confirmation I need when I look into your eyes.” Her thumb circled my cheek as she stared down at me with intensity. “I know everything you feel, Madison. We’re connected that way.”

  She was right. We were connected. I’d die without her.

  ****

  A couple of hours later I got into work and greeted Lily, who sat behind the desk, rubbing her inflated belly and staring at the computer screen with her brow furrowed.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” She straightened. “Except, I feel so awful. Lindsey is kicking me in the balls today,” she said, referring to her yet-to-be-born daughter.

  “You don’t have balls,” I reminded her.

  “Well, if I had any, they’d be crushed.” Lily shifted in her seat, grimacing. “I can’t wait for this thing to get out of my body. Get out. Get out,” she hissed at her swollen abdomen.

  I studied her then, the strained lines of her face, the way she kept shifting on her ass. It wasn’t obvious. In fact, if I hadn’t seen it all before, I never would’ve caught on to it. Josh must’ve gotten pretty heavy-handed with her. Her face showed no signs of injuries though. Classic. Hit ’em where you can’t see ’em.

  But then Lily grinned and I narrowed my eyes at her. “What?”

  “Tell me about him.”

  “About who?”

  “James Dean.”

  “Who?”

  Did Josh hit her in the head or something? Lily was acting beyond strange.

  She propped her chin in her palms. “You know, not James Dean, James Dean. But the other one, the messy one. The one with that little girl. I like him. He has that tortured artist thing down pat.”

  “Yeah, he’s tortured all right,” I muttered over my pounding heart as I realized who she was talking about. “There’s nothing to tell. I don’t even know the guy.”

  “Oh pssh!” She waved her hand. “I saw you two yesterday. You guys looked pretty cozy to me. Unless you were close only to bite his head off, which I would say could be a possibility where you’re concerned.”

  “What’s with always putting the blame on me?” I said, frustrated. “I can be sunshiny, sometimes. All cheery and shit.”

  We both narrowed our eyes at each other again before Lily snorted. “Yeah, right.”

  “His name is James Maxwell. And I don’t think he has much to do with art and stuff. He’s a doctor. Or something,” I told Lily.

  “Really? I am totally digging the name.” Lily smiled. “Anyway, I never asked you this, but have you ever been with guys before? Or did you always love the kitties?”

  This time I snorted. “Why don’t you show me your kitty, and I’ll tell you.”

  Lily shook her head. “Why are you obsessed with me?”

  “You’re irresistible, sweetums.”

  “Gross.”

  “Why are you so homophobic?” I leaned on the desk. “No, really. Tell me. What’s so wrong about it?”

  She blushed. “I’m not homophobic. It’s not that.”

  “Then what is it?”

  Her blush turned furious, but she remained silent. Wait, what?

  My lips stretched into a huge grin, which turned into a chuckle and that turned into full-blown laughter. “You like it. Oh my God. You like it when I flirt with you. It turns you on.” I could hardly control my mirth. “You’re hilarious.”

  “Shut up,” she muttered, glaring at me.

  “I knew you found me sexy.”

  “Shut the hell up.”

  Over my laughter, I heard someone call out my name. “Madison!”

  I turned around and found Katie running toward me. Her lipstick was a darker shade of orange, and her hair was loose and messy like she’d rolled out of bed some five minutes ago. I looked for a tall, gray-eyed man behind her, but he never came.

  “Hey Katie. What’s up? Where’s your dad?” I set my bag down by my feet.

  “Daddy’s sleeping,” she said with wide, fearful eyes. “I tried to wake him up, but he didn’t. I think he’s sick.”

  That was…unexpected. He was fine yesterday, wasn’t he?

  Bending down, I squeezed Katie’s shoulders in reassurance. “Don’t worry. I’m sure he’s fine. He’s just, you know, sle
eping. Heavily. I’ll go check on him.”

  “What if he never wakes up? What if he misses Mommy too much?”

  I tensed, debating if I should tell Katie the truth. If I should put her out of this misery and endless waiting. No one’s coming. She’s dead, and your dad is an asshole. But I couldn’t do something like that. I couldn’t break her heart. She was so little. I wanted to hide her in my arms.

  A creak sounded, and then Lily waddled around the desk, her lips pursed in pain. “Hiya! What’s going on? What’s wrong, sweetie?”

  “My daddy won’t wake up. I think he misses Mommy too much.”

  Lily and I exchanged glances. Sighing, I stroked Katie’s hair. “Don’t worry, baby. I’m going to go check on him, okay? And how about you have some breakfast meanwhile?”

  “Yes. I want pancakes. I forgot that my tummy hurts.” Katie rubbed her hands over her stomach.

  I bit my lip as something flipped in my chest.

  Lily took over. “Pancakes sound delish. Do you want to go with me and see what else they have?”

  “It’s okay. I can take her.” I studied her strained face. “You need your…I mean, you need to take care of reception.”

  She gave me a meaningful look. “It’s okay. I’m going to be fine. Besides, I’m hungry, too. Five minutes away from this desk won’t kill me.” She chuckled.

  When I didn’t laugh, she sighed. “God! Go on. Go rescue James Dean. Katie and I are gonna be fine. Right, Katie?”

  Katie nodded, but then asked, “Who’s James Dean? My daddy’s name is James, too”

  Taking Katie’s pudgy hands in her own, Lily ushered her toward the dining area while explaining who James Dean was. I caught the tail end of their conversation where she said, “I’ll show you his pic I took from Google. You’ll thank me when you grow up, trust me.”

  Katie giggled.

  Four days ago, I didn’t care about anyone or anything. Now, I did care. I cared very much about what happened to Katie. Because I’d been like her long ago, back when I hadn’t known any better. When my smiles had just been smiles, not a tactic to cover sadness or play coy with boys. When I’d thought that the world was square and the moon was a giant lamp hanging in the sky because God wanted us to find our way in the dark. That was pretty lame but kind of cute. See, I was cute once upon a time.

  A couple of minutes later, I stood outside James’ cottage, my heart racing. The door had been left ajar, and I just swung it open.

  James lay sprawled on his stomach on the couch, one arm flung over his head and the other dangling from the edge, brushing the rug. His face was turned toward me, and his lips were parted in deep sleep. My eyes fell on an empty bottle abandoned on the coffee table. Even if I hadn’t found it, I would’ve known just by looking at him. James was sleeping the sleep of a drunken man. The sleep that was deep and oblivious, like that of the dead. I’d seen it enough times to know. And I’d known it so intimately that I dreaded it.

  I was unsure how to approach him. No, actually, I was sure that I did not want to approach him. I thought I’d find a sick man, and I realized now that, despite my anger, I’d been kind of scared for him. Not in my wildest dreams did I expect to find a passed-out drunk.

  But I’d promised a little girl. What can I say, I did have my generous moments. Though I wished this wasn’t one of them.

  A shivery sensation clutched my legs as I moved forward. Crime of passion. Three words flitted through my mind like a butterfly. Tiny, innocent butterfly. So deceptive. Those had been the words I’d lived by ever since I ran away from my hometown.

  The smell of alcohol gagged me as I reached him. He was so completely out of it. I looked around for something that could be used to wake him up. An idea struck me, and I went to the kitchen. I filled a tall glass with water and came back to the couch. Without a thought, I dumped it all on his face.

  James shot upright, sputtering and coughing, his eyes scrunched shut.

  I slapped the glass down on his coffee table, hard and loud, and he flinched.

  He was still in the same clothes as yesterday, gray shirt and khaki pants. His shirt was untucked and a few top buttons were open. I could see his chest hair, springy and black. His hair stood out on his head, sleepy and mussed. My stomach tightened at his disheveled beauty. This was what I’d been looking for yesterday when I came here to clean, his imperfections. Though, at the time, I hadn’t known alcohol was going to be one of his vices.

  “Wh…what happened? What’re you doing here?” he croaked, scrubbing his face with his hands.

  “Katie thought you might be sick. So I came here to check on you. Imagine my surprise when I found you drunk and sleeping.”

  Katie’s name might have broken his drunken haze. “Where’s Katie? Wh-where is she?” He stumbled upright and clutched his head, groaning.

  My heart raced as he grew taller in front of my eyes. Even though I wanted to move closer, I took a step back in fear. Pathetic. “She’s gone.”

  Finally, James’ eyes settled on me, dazed and struck with fear. I could hardly contain my smirk. “She knows. Everything. She hates you now. Wants nothing to do with you.”

  There was a flood of panic on his face. A frantic sheen covered his eyes. But in a few seconds, it lessened and slowly dripped off. James craned his shoulders back, as if relieving them of pain, and shut his eyes. He strained his closed lids, the skin on them growing taut before it loosened back as he opened his eyes to look at me. They were furious.

  Just like yesterday, he seemed to be on the verge of losing control, and believe it or not, I was on the verge of…letting him. My lower tummy tingled and ached as I watched him.

  It made absolutely zero sense. Why would I be tingling when he was angry? I was the one who hurt men, sent them tumbling down in the name of lust. But with James, everything was fucking upside down. Stupid fucking exhilaration.

  “Where is she?” James asked again.

  I remained quiet, and he growled in the back of his throat. A wild, reckless sound that spoke to me, stoked my lust, fanned my fear.

  The veins over his collarbone pulsed. “Where’s my daughter?”

  “Told you, she’s gone.”

  “Madison,” he growled once again, low in his throat.

  “What, James?” I growled, too, though its effect wasn’t as chilling. “I don’t lie. Not like you. She really is gone. She didn’t want to stay with you. A liar. Someone who does nothing but hurt her. Someone selfish and weak. Someone like you. And you would’ve known this if you weren’t passed out like you were dead.”

  He was a growling leopard, lean and strong, with sharp teeth, and drunk enough to bite. I felt hot, sweaty all of a sudden. It was as if the sun licked my hips, my thighs, all the way to my toes in long strokes.

  My body swayed toward him. “You know what she asked me? She said what if Daddy never wakes up? What if he misses Mommy so much that he doesn’t want to wake up?”

  James clenched his jaw.

  “Do you?” I asked. “Do you miss her? So much that you don’t care about anything else. Not even your daughter.” With a whisper, I delivered my last blow. “Maybe instead of killing your wife, you should’ve killed yourself.”

  Oh no! Did I just say that?

  Shit.

  Fuck.

  There was a fire in his eyes. I thought he was going to kill me.

  I expected James to charge at me, shake me but there was only silence. So thick and strangling.

  I should leave now, right? Run away before he did something drastic. I probably should if I wanted to live, but stupidly enough, dying didn’t seem like a bad idea when he was looking at me like that.

  Then came the blast of something shattering against the wall. The glass bottle. I hadn’t noticed when James picked it up, though I’d felt the air around him jerk as he swung his arm out and smashed it against the wall. His breaths were uneven, out of control. He pounced on me and grabbed my upper arm in a punishing grip.

  “Stop talk
ing,” he commanded with gritted teeth.

  “Not until you tell me why you’re lying.” I trembled. Panic was devouring my bravery like it hadn’t eaten in years.

  “Because it’s easier.” His whisper was raw, guttural.

  “Why? What’s so bad that you can’t tell your daughter?”

  His gray eyes were unfocused. He looked at me, but I wasn’t sure he actually saw me. “I killed her. She died trying to get away from me. It should’ve been me. I should’ve died. Not her. Never her. I wasn’t driving the car that hit her, but I might as well have been. I drove my wife to her death.”

  James’ face was slashed with pain. It took a life of its own and moved, rippled, writhed over his features. It was melting my hate, begging me to stroke his pain away with my hands.

  Then he tightened his hold on my arm. Focus returned in his eyes. I knew he saw me now. “I told you to stay out of this. I asked you to. Why didn’t you listen to me?” He studied my face. Something in his eyes was wild and strange, scary. “What do you want, Madison? Why do you keep coming back?” He squeezed my bicep, making me flinch. “Do you want me to hurt you?”

  No. No, I don’t. God! I don’t.

  I gritted my teeth and glared at him. “Let go of me.”

  James jerked me closer as he stared at me, furious, ferocious, lustful. His alcohol breath threatened to bring up my breakfast. I hated it.

  “Where is my daughter?” His nails dug into my flesh when I remained mute. “Answer me.”

  My arm had begun to feel numb. I forgot to breathe as I looked at him. He could really hurt me. I knew this in my heart. He could really do it. My fear kicked into high gear. Please no. I didn’t think I could go through that again. Turned out people like me could be scared of some things, too. Surprise, my subconscious chanted, weakly.

  I tried to free myself. “Let me go.”

  He brought me even closer and puffed his stale breath on my face. I fought hard not to gag. His chest wasn’t touching mine, but one deep breath and it would brush. I stopped breathing.

  A soft flick, a caress resonated on my skin where he’d grabbed me. It was so soft that it could’ve been air touching my skin, but I knew it was him. He was circling his thumb on my arm. My heart pounded, furious, afraid, and with a tinge of excitement. In the next second, the caress was gone like I’d dreamt it.