Читать книгу Built - Jay Crownover - Страница 13

I was out of my damn mind.

I was supposed to be begging her for help. I was supposed to be trying to do the right thing. I was supposed to be full of dread and embarrassment at the consequences of my past actions. I wasn’t supposed to feel the burn and sharp twist of desire that blazed through me every time I got near Sayer. That hadn’t been part of my agenda when I went to her for help. There simply wasn’t any stopping it.

Maybe it was the fact that it was the first time I had ever seen Sayer outside of her typical, severe-looking work wear. If there was such a thing as being tragically flawless and ferociously immaculate, then those were conditions that she definitely suffered from. She was always so tailored and put together. Sometimes she didn’t seem real, more like a life-size doll without a hair out of place and a face full of perfectly subdued makeup still intact after a full day’s worth of work. She was intimidating not only in her carefully crafted beauty but also in her consummate perfection.

Seeing her standing there with messy hair and dressed in rumpled clothes that she obviously slept in had pulled my head from all the cloudy thoughts about the possibility of impending fatherhood and immediately launched it into all kinds of filthy and sexy thoughts that involved putting her in even more disarray with my mouth and hands. God, I wanted to touch her, to taste her. I wanted to know if she felt as cool as she looked and just what it would take to get her to melt, to thaw her out and turn her into nothing more than liquid and want in my hands.

The kiss had been a solid start.

Hell, the way she kissed me back, arched into me and got all soft and pliable at just the touch of lips to lips, let me know she would have zero trouble rolling with anything I wanted to lay on her. Even if it was clear she had her doubts about that. As perfect as Sayer appeared to be on the outside, it was becoming obvious that all of that perfection cracked and splintered a little bit below the surface. She had a shell around her, but it was much thinner and more brittle than I think she was aware of.

Now that I had admitted the truth to Sayer, which felt like jumping off a cliff without knowing what was waiting below me, I had a few more people to tell about my current, questionable situation. I knew my sister and my mother would support me no matter what the outcome of the paternity test was, but I dreaded seeing the look of disappointment in their eyes when I came clean. They would be frustrated and exasperated that I had once again made a rushed, drastic decision that led to an outcome that could stick with me for the rest of my life.

I watched my mom’s heart break in half when the judge laid down the sentence after I pled no contest to the aggravated assault and additional charge of child endangerment. She cried harder than I had ever seen her cry and that included the night my dad walked out on us for good when I was just a kid. I never wanted to put her through that again, and depending on the outcome of the looming test, my guts twisted into knots at the idea that I could cause her that kind of pain and disappointment more than once in a lifetime. All I wanted to do since getting out of prison was make my mother proud. That was why I worked six days a week and made sure to keep my nose clean and my easily ignited temper in check.

My sister, Beryl, was a little different. When I went to jail she had wanted to fight harder to keep me out than I had. She was in court with a broken nose, black eyes, and her arm in a sling, and was recovering from a head injury that had put her in the hospital for a week. She was ready to tell anyone that would listen that the only reason I was in trouble in the first place was because her boyfriend at the time, my niece’s deadbeat father, had nearly beaten her to death. There was no way she could stop me once I learned how badly she was hurt, and I hadn’t stopped to think for a second about what it would mean for me that I had attacked her abuser in plain sight of not only her but of my then three-year-old niece. Beryl couldn’t believe I was the one facing a prison sentence while that asshole she used to be involved with got to walk free. She also couldn’t believe that because her daughter, Joss, had witnessed the beatdown I had delivered, I was the one looking at a child-abuse charge. Beryl felt that it was all unjust and disgustingly unfair, but there was nothing she could do to help me when I decided that instead of dragging everything through court and subjecting her and Joss to a trial, I would just take my punishment and serve the time. I was going away regardless of any argument put forth, so I wanted to do it as quickly and painlessly for those that I loved as possible. Maybe it was guilt and remorse for losing it so drastically in front of Joss, or the fury that I hadn’t known what was happening to my sister, but I just wanted it all to go away. It was the hardest decision I had ever had to make until Echo showed up on my jobsite claiming I fathered a child.

Beryl had hidden the violence and abuse she suffered at her ex’s hands for years, but like all abusers a time had come when he had gone too far. With the evidence so brutal and blinding right in my face, I had lost my shit and taught the guy a lesson he would never forget about using his hands on the fairer sex, especially someone I happened to love beyond measure. He had beaten and hurt my sister, so in return I had nearly killed him with nothing more than fists and the rage behind them. I was out of control, and honestly once the haze of fury had dulled, I understood I had crossed a line and did deserve to be punished for my lack of control. My temper was always something I struggled to keep in check, it still made my heart hurt that sometimes I could still see threads of fear in my sister’s eyes when she looked at me and saw the dangerous man I could be if pushed too far. For the last seven years I worked hard to be respectable and repentant because I never wanted to be that guy again. I didn’t want my family or anyone I cared about to look at me like I was a bomb about to go off.

When I told Beryl about Hyde I knew her reaction would be to wrap me up in a hug, hold me tight, and tell me that everything was going to be okay. She would prop me up and help me fight to make things right if Hyde was indeed my kid, but behind her support and encouraging words there would be that sisterly knowing that scolded me for not thinking things through. While she appreciated me riding to her rescue and always told me how guilty she felt for not leaving the dickhead sooner so that years of my life weren’t given up for her, she still never let me forget that there was a better way for all of us to have handled the situation with her ex. My actions had cost us all a heavy price in the end.

Sighing and shoving my shaggy hair off my forehead, I wheeled my fully restored, 1950 International farm truck into my mom’s driveway and parked it next to my sister’s little hybrid that was already taking up half the space. I had grown up in a suburb of Denver called Lakewood, and my mom still lived in the one-story brick rancher that she raised me and Beryl in. It was a quiet, family-friendly neighborhood that Mom had relocated to not long after Dad left. Even after all the time and circumstances that had passed, pulling into the cracked cement driveway that led to the garage still felt like coming home. I had offered to move my mom into one of my properties, to upgrade her home for her, but she wasn’t having any of it. Beryl even bought a town house a few miles away, which made life easy for her since Mom picked my niece up and watched her after school until Beryl got off of work from her job as a bank teller. Mom insisted she wasn’t going anywhere, and that her house was just fine the way it was. I honestly couldn’t complain. It was nice to have a solid base, a place that never shifted or moved and that always felt welcoming and warm. My mom had always made sure we knew where home was and that had been one of the key factors in driving me to create that kind of place for others.

I loved working with my hands and getting to be my own boss. But handing over the keys, walking away from a family knowing that I had given them a place that could be their home base, their security, fulfilled me in a way that was hard to put words to. I always felt like what I did was so much more important than driving nails into wood or slapping some paint onto walls, and that was why my crew was all made up of guys that needed a second chance and a way to give back.

Every single guy that worked for me was either an ex-con or an otherwise at-risk individual. I was the captain of the second-chance crew and I couldn’t be happier about it. I wanted all the guys I took under my wing to know that there was life after a major mistake, that making the most of a second chance was the only way to get ahead, and I wanted them all to see how important something like home really could be. I also wanted to give guys the opportunity that they might not get anywhere else to learn a tangible skill they could take with them wherever they ended up in life. There had been a failure or two along the way since I started recruiting the unrecruitable, but for the most part the guys were overly grateful for having honest work in an environment that wasn’t about judging the sins of the past.

I didn’t bother knocking on the metal storm door since the front door was open and I could hear the infectious sound of childish laughter floating from somewhere inside the house. It was the weekend, which meant plenty of family time. We usually all got together on Sundays for either brunch or dinner depending on my work schedule, but Beryl always swung by on the weekends and spent a couple hours catching up with Mom and letting Joss play with the neighborhood kids that made up her circle of friends.

I prowled through the empty house and followed the sounds of laughing and screeching to the backyard. I could see my mom’s dark head bent toward my sister’s as they talked quietly about something while a group of kids including my adorable niece played tag. A grin tugged at my mouth as I tiptoed my way through the kitchen and dining room until I reached the sliding glass door that led to the concrete patio they were sitting on.

Joss caught sight of me and I saw her lift her arm up to wave at me, but I shook my head and put a finger to my lips, indicating she should keep quiet while I crept up on her mom and grandmother. My boots squeaked on the laminate floor that Mom refused to let me rip up and replace, but the noise wasn’t loud enough to draw attention. Joss giggled as she watched my approach, and when I got to the glass of the doors I gripped the metal handle and yanked it open while shouting “BOO!”

I chuckled uncontrollably as the glass in Beryl’s hand went flying and as my mom leaped out of her chair like it was on fire. She spun on me and smacked me playfully in the center of my chest. I rubbed the spot playfully as she scowled up at me.

“Zebulon Fuller! Are you trying to give an old woman a heart attack?”

My mom was far from old. In fact she looked good and young enough that if it wasn’t for the few wrinkles around her eyes she could easily pass for my older sister instead of my parent, so I didn’t bother replying to that nonsense. Instead, I grunted and bent down to scoop Joss up as she ran at me. I wrapped an arm around her as she grabbed on to the end of my beard and pulled. It was something she did every time she saw me and it always made me smile. I gave her a smacking kiss on the cheek and made sure to rub my whiskers on her face as she giggled.

“Uncle Zeb, stop!” She wiggled until I put her down and dashed back to play with her friends.

I sighed dramatically and walked over to take one of the remaining seats at the patio set across from my sister. “How quickly I’m forgotten.”

Beryl was still frowning at me and wiping her damp fingers off on her jeans. “She’s almost eleven. Just wait until she’s a teenager and the boys she’s running to hug are the ones she wants to date.”

I let out a low growl at that and jerked when something freezing and slippery suddenly slipped down the back of my T-shirt. I leaned forward in the chair and practically pulled my shirt off over my head in order to fish out the ice cube Beryl had just dropped down the collar.

“You suck.”

“You’re the one that made me spill my drink. Jerk.”

We glared at each other for a second until my mom snorted and had us both turning to look at her.

“I kept waiting for the day when you two won’t argue like you did when you were little, but at this point I don’t think I’ll live long enough to see it. Zeb, it’s Saturday, why aren’t you working?”

I contemplated tossing the dripping piece of ice back at Beryl but instead dropped it back on the ground. I stroked a hand down my beard and looked at both of them solemnly.

“I’m in the middle of a situation and I needed to ask a friend for some help with it, so I took the day off. I also need to tell you guys what’s going on. It’s a conversation we need to have in person.”

My mom put a hand to her mouth and I saw it shake a little. Beryl’s eyes sharpened and she reached out a hand to put on my tense shoulder.

“Are you okay? Are you in some kind of trouble?”

I cringed involuntarily and shifted my gaze to the kids playing in the yard. “Some kind of trouble, I just don’t know what kind yet.”

“What happened?” Beryl kept her voice low and I could see worry filling my mom’s eyes. They were the exact same color as my own so I knew by the way they darkened that she was already expecting the worst and that made my heart squeeze and my breath lock up in my lungs. That was exactly the reaction I was dreading. I was back to having her look past me and seeing only the things I was capable of. I was used to being judged, but it hurt a little more when it came from someone you loved unquestioningly.

“A girl showed up at my jobsite this week and gave me some news that flipped my world upside down.”

Beryl’s fingers curled into my shoulder. “What happened to the lawyer you were all hung up on? The one you worked yourself to death trying to impress by building her your dream home?”

I shook my head slowly and bent to put my elbows on my knees so I could hold my head in my hands. She knew me too well. Sure the house was Sayer’s vision and her ultimate dream, but the work I put into her Victorian, the way I agonized and labored over every part of the remodel, meant I left a part of myself in the structure. Sayer’s home was my dream home and she didn’t even know it.

“This isn’t about some girl, Beryl … well, it is but not like that. Sayer is actually the friend I went to see to ask for help. She’s a family attorney … which I may need because there is a good chance I might have a family.”

“What?!” The whispered exclamation came from my mother followed by a whole slew of surprised curse words from my sister.

I pressed my fingers into my temples and sighed again. “Like I said, this girl showed up on my jobsite and dropped a bomb. She was pretty shaken but managed to tell me that her friend that had recently passed away identified me as the father of her child. A child that is currently on his way into foster care.”

“Oh, Zeb.” My mom’s voice was soft and I couldn’t bring myself to look her in the eyes.

“You can’t just believe some stranger, Zeb. Where’s the proof? This is ridiculous.” I knew Beryl would immediately go into defensive mode, and while I appreciated it, the proof was pretty clear when the child in question had my face.

I pulled out my phone and pulled up the image. Without a word, I put the phone down in the center of the table and waited for my family to take it all in. Tears immediately shined over my mother’s eyes, and for once Beryl seemed to have nothing to say.

“The proof is in the picture. I didn’t just believe her, and there are things about her story that add up and make me believe the boy could be mine. When I got out of prison I wasn’t in a good place. It was almost as hard to come home as it was to go in. Before I saw you guys after more than two years of being away, I needed a minute to get my shit together. That minute was full of some reckless choices on my part. Choices that very well could mean the boy is mine.”

My mom picked up the phone and I saw her hands shake. “This looks exactly like your picture from the first day of kindergarten, except you had on a Star Wars T-shirt.”

“I know, Mom.”

I finally looked up at my sister, who was staring at me with a mixture of compassion, aggravation, and that soul-deep understanding that we were ultimately in this together.

“What did the lawyer say?”

I couldn’t stop the little snicker that slipped out as I sat back up in the seat and laced my fingers behind my head. “Before or after I kissed her?”

“Zeb!” My mom gave me a hard look and my sister just shook her head.

“Really? You thought ‘hey I may have a child floating out there in the world somewhere’ was a good pickup line? I hope she kicked you in the balls.”

“She told me that she would work on getting the state to put a paternity test in place first thing tomorrow, though I think we all know what the outcome is going to be. There is no doubt in my mind that the boy is mine.” I wiggled my eyebrows. “And then she kissed me back.”

“Okay, and once the paperwork proves paternity, what happens next? Have you thought any of this through, Zeb? Are you really ready to be a dad full-time? What about your company? You work all the time.” They were the same questions that had been chasing themselves around in circles in my mind ever since Echo had ambushed me, and my answer always ended up being the same.

“Of course I’m not ready. I have no clue how to be a parent or how to take care of a child, but this isn’t about me. That kid needs me. There is no reason for him to be caught up in the system when I’m here and can take care of him. He’s my responsibility.” And these were the last two people in the world that would ever question how seriously I took my responsibilities in life.

“Okay, then. You just let me know what you need me to do. You know I’ll support you any way I can, Zeb.” Beryl reached out and ruffled the hair on the top of my head just like she used to do when we were little kids. “And for what it’s worth, I think you’ll make a wonderful father no matter how it happened to come about. No one loves as fiercely as you do, little brother.”

My mom reluctantly put the phone back on the table so I could reach out and slide it back toward me.

Beryl and I both watched her as she remained silent and on the verge of tears for long-drawn-out minutes. I kept waiting for her to say something, anything, and just when I was going to break the silence with an apology of rushed words, she got up and walked around the table and stopped right in front of me. I had to swallow hard to keep back the emotion that welled up in me. There was no disappointment or censure in her dark green gaze, none of the judgment that I feared with every breath I took. There was only open and endless love.

She bent down and wrapped her arms around me in a hug that felt like everything I wasn’t aware I needed since hearing the news a few days ago.

She kissed me on the top of the head and whispered, “What’s his name, Zeb? What’s my grandson’s name?”

It took me a minute to find my voice and to get my arms to move so I could hug her back. I had to clear my throat around all the feelings that seemed to be clogged there before I could answer her.

“His name is Hyde.” I really needed to start with that instead of just calling him the kid or the boy. He needed to be real and solid. He needed to be more than just a fuzzy and cloudy idea of a thing that would forever change my life. He was a tiny, little person. He was my tiny, little person and I needed to get not only my head wrapped around that but my heart as well.

“Hey, what’s going on? Why is Grandma crying and hugging Uncle Zeb?” Joss’s tiny voice was concerned, so my mom pulled back and gave me a teary smile.

“Your uncle just told me a secret that made me happy, is all. They’re happy tears.”

Joss’s delicate features curled up and her eyes narrowed at all the adults gathered around the table. “Secrets aren’t nice.”

Beryl reached out and tugged on the end of her daughter’s ponytail. “Some are. Some are just a surprise that you have to wait for the right time to share.”

Joss’s mouth puckered and she crossed her arms over her thin chest. She had her mother’s fight and stubbornness in her without a doubt.

“Is it a secret about my birthday? Am I getting the puppy I want?” Her petulant tone made me laugh and had Beryl sighing.

“Not everything is about your birthday, Joss. It’s still three months away and I told you that I think we’re gone from home too much to take care of a puppy right now.”

Miniature dark eyebrows that matched Beryl’s perfectly shot up, and I saw the spark of mischief light up my niece’s blue eyes right before she threw her mom under the bus.

“Well, if the secret isn’t about my birthday, is it about that guy, Wes, who’s been coming over for dinner all the time? Did you tell Uncle Zeb and he told Grandma? I bet that would make her cry happy tears. She’s always saying you need a man friend.”

My sister screeched her daughter’s name over my laughter. I stuck my hand out and Joss gave me a miniature fist bump right before running off as my mother called Beryl’s name in much the same tone as the one my sister was using to holler at my niece.

“You have a boyfriend?” My mom sounded incredulous and delighted at the same time. Beryl was pretty and smart, but her experience with men had left her standoffish and overly protective of both herself and her daughter. There had been a short-term guy here and there over the years but no one that seemed special enough to keep around. Whoever this Wes was, he was already miles ahead of any other guy that had been on the track if Beryl had let him not only into her home but around Joss.

My sister flushed a hot red and fiddled anxiously with the ends of her long hair. “I have a friend who may be more than that, yes.”

“Why didn’t you say anything? Why haven’t we met him?” My mom was going into full-on mother mode and all I could do was sit back and watch. Beryl glared at me as I grinned at her, grateful some of the focus was now off of me.

“Yeah, why haven’t we met him?” I couldn’t keep the teasing humor out of my voice.

“Ugh. Because I’m not sure what I’m doing with him. I met him at work. He’s a customer at the bank. He asked me out for coffee and I turned him down. The next time he came in he asked again, and again, until I said yes. He’s persistent and funny. He’s really nice and has a good job. He’s a natural with Joss, and really I think he’s too good to be true, so I’m just waiting for the prince to turn back into a frog or for him to show his true colors. If I introduced him to you guys, that would be admitting that I want him to stick around. I’m trying really hard not to get attached.”

It was my turn to reach out and put a hand on her shoulder for a comforting squeeze. “Nothing wrong with hitching your wagon to a proven winner, sis.”

She leaned forward and buried her face in her hands. “Ugh … don’t say that. It’ll just make it harder when it all falls apart.”

Neither one of us had ever been very lucky in love. The first man my sister gave her heart to hurt her physically and the first girl that I thought I was going to spend forever with hadn’t been able to handle the dire consequences I faced after I exacted justice from my sister’s abuser. But despite all of that I felt like I needed to remind her that “Some things are built to last and won’t fall apart no matter how much force or stress is put on them. Look at those old beauties I work with every day. They’ve been around for over a century, and while they might be weathered and worn they’re still standing.”