Jagged cm-5 Page 31

  I leaned slightly in to him. “I hope He does that for you, Pastor Williams, assists you with living with the balance. Because, in truth, I don’t know if there’s any hope for her. But I do know there’s no hope for Dad.”

  “I have no doubt He will,” he replied. “That doesn’t mean it will all be well. Just that He will see us through.”

  I lifted a hand and squeezed his arm, uncertain if God would see everyone through, this meaning my Mom, but He was doing His bit for the rest of us.

  “He might see you through even better, if He saw you sitting in one of my pews more than just for the Christmas choir performance,” he went on, and at his pointed quip, I laughed, dropping my hand.

  “Point taken,” I said.

  “Good, then I’ll see you tomorrow morning at church. I have a very good sermon planned so I’m certain you won’t want to miss it.”

  I gave him another smile then leaned closer, got up on my toes, and kissed his cheek but stayed there to say in his ear, “God chooses well.”

  He gave my arm a squeeze as he murmured, “That’s a mighty compliment, Zara. Thank you.”

  I rocked back, caught his eyes, and nodded.

  He gave my arm another squeeze before he nodded back. His eyes went through the crowd, he did a few chin lifts when they fell on people he knew, and then he turned to the door.

  I watched him move through it, and as he did, I saw Greg moving up my walk.

  I’d called Greg and invited him. He’d never met Xenia but he’d gone to visit her with me once. I didn’t go to see her very often. It was too difficult. But since he was my husband, and she was my sister, and I loved them both, I thought he should meet her even if that meeting was macabre and bizarre.

  Incidentally, when I went with Greg that was the last time I visited my sister.

  I’d also invited Greg because we’d promised we wouldn’t lose each other and I knew Ham talked to him, so I hoped Ham had gotten through to him. Greg had called and spoken with me briefly after Xenia died. But other than that, I had no idea, with Ham in my life, his ring on my finger, if we could keep our promise.

  I just hoped we could.

  “Hey,” I greeted, walking to him as he shut the door.

  He turned to me, his eyes catching mine for a brief moment before they scanned the house and then came back to mine.

  “Hey,” he replied.

  “You okay?” I asked. “Being here, I mean. And—”

  Greg interrupted me. “Zara, this is your sister’s memorial and you’re asking me if I’m okay?”

  “I, well… yeah.”

  “Okay, then… no. I’m not okay since I’ve been worried about you since I heard your sister died.”

  “Greg,” I said softly. “I understand that, appreciate it. That’s really sweet and I mean it when I say I’m glad you came. But I know this has to be weird. You and me. Me and Ham.” I swung my arm out behind me. “This house. I just want to be sure you’re okay with all this.”

  He shook his head and his face went gentle as his hands came to my shoulders and then slid up to curl around the sides of my neck.

  He leaned his face down to mine. “Zara, honey, after your, uh… Reece phoned me, it forced me to think. Weigh my options. What’s done is done and I know there’s no way I could win you back. I screwed that up. After he called, I came to terms with that. So I had to choose whether I wanted to have you in my life how I could have you or if I wanted to be a jerk and not have you at all.” He grinned and admitted, “I’m not much good at being a jerk.”

  His words made me relax and I grinned back. “You never were.”

  “It’s going to be weird. It’ll probably be hard, but we’ll get there.”

  I closed my eyes as relief swept through me and when I opened them, I whispered, “Thank you.”

  “Just that, um… until I sort things out, get used to, uh… him, or your being with him, if we have a cup of coffee or something, maybe for a while it can be just you and me. Will he be okay with that?”

  I wasn’t sure he would. Ham was pretty possessive.

  Then again, Ham knew I loved him, he loved me, he knew I didn’t feel that way about Greg, so I suspected he’d also trust me.

  “I’ll talk to him,” I promised.

  “Okay,” Greg replied, then his eyes went over my head. He dropped his hands and muttered, “I’m going to go say hi to Latrell.”

  “You want a drink first?” I asked and Greg looked back at me.

  “If you’re cool with it, I know my way.”

  “I’m cool with it, darlin’.”

  He grinned, lifted his hand to curl his fingers around the side of my neck again to give me a quick squeeze, then he wandered toward the kitchen.

  I wandered to the end of the entryway and was immediately set upon by Maybelle and Wanda.

  My eyes went from one to the other to see both of them examining my face but it was Maybelle who spoke.

  “You all right?” she asked.

  “Yes,” I answered.

  “Girl, seriously,” Wanda began. “You’re a drama magnet.”

  I looked to her and assured, “It’s all good.”

  “Mm-hmm,” Maybelle mumbled. “It’s all good right about now, when your man is off on his bike with your nephew. He walks into this house and your ex is here, I do not see good things.”

  “Ham knows I invited Greg,” I told her.

  She nodded but went on. “Then you best be thankin’ your lucky stars he wasn’t here when your ex put his hands on you. I could see it was all platonic-like but I think your man doesn’t have that filter when it comes to you and any man puttin’ his hands to you.”

  This was true and I thanked my lucky stars Ham wasn’t there for that either, not to mention thanking them for the fact that Greg was not the type of man who would push that kind of thing if Ham was there, or at all.

  “We had a moment. The moment’s over. It won’t happen again,” I told Maybelle.

  “Well, you bein’ a millionaire, a new auntie, back in your house with a hot guy who’s actually a good guy who’d move mountains for you and, with that body of his, I’m thinkin’ he actually could, I’m also thinkin’ your lucky stars finally started to shine their light, thank the heavenly Father above,” Maybelle remarked and I turned fully to her.

  “Is this your official stamp of approval on Ham?” I asked.

  She leaned back and her brows went up.

  “Girl, he had us all rushin’ around like an army of ants settin’ you up in your new-old house so you could come home from work and take a load off. That is, you could take a load off after he planted a huge-ass diamond on your finger,” she returned, gesturing to my hand. “How could I not give that my official stamp of approval?”

  I knew it.

  And I loved it.

  So I smiled huge and crowed, “Told you.”

  “Whatever,” she replied, looking away.

  Not done, I turned to Wanda. “You’re my witness. I told her.”

  “You so did,” Wanda replied, grinning big.

  “I need another drink,” Maybelle noted as the doorbell rang.

  “I’ll get that, hon. You find yourself a fresh bottle and suck back more beer,” Wanda offered and moved away.

  Maybelle looked back at me and her eyes were lit with joy when she did.

  “Happy, baby?” she asked softly.

  “I’m at my sister’s memorial, celebrating her life, and my man is taking her son for a ride on his Harley, a ride Zander couldn’t wait to get. I’m back in the house I love that my man bought for me. And his ring is on my finger. So yeah. I’m happy,” I answered. “I’ve never been happier in my life. I thought yesterday, I’d never been happier. And the day before. And the day before that. But I’m wrong every day. It keeps gettin’ better.”

  Her eyes went soft and bright when she whispered, “Then that means I couldn’t be happier for you.”

  “Zara!”

  My name said in that voi
ce sent all my happy flying out the window.

  “Oh no you do not!” I heard shouted from the other direction and I knew that was Kami Maxwell.

  But I ignored Kami and, stiltedly, I turned and saw my mother, her face a mask of alarm, staring at me.

  What the hell was she doing there?

  Greg was invited. Sixty other people were invited.

  My mother was absolutely not.

  “What are you—” I started, feeling Maybelle edge close as Wanda did the same on my other side.

  But I didn’t finish because Mom’s hand shot out, clamping on mine and tugging hard.

  “We must talk,” she demanded.

  I tried to pull my hand free as I said, “We have nothing to say and, Mom, I don’t wanna be ugly but you aren’t welcome here. Not to mention, with what’s happening legally, you shouldn’t be here.”

  “Zara, you don’t under—” she began but didn’t finish when I felt a wave of hostility blast through the front door.

  Maybelle and Wanda felt it, too, and edged even closer as my eyes flew to the door to see my father storming in.

  Without hesitation, he walked right up to Mom and me, grabbed Mom by the back of her neck, and yanked her away so hard she went flying.

  Wanda gasped.

  Maybelle whispered, “Heavenly Father.”

  My body strung tight.

  My father’s eyes sliced through the crowd and locked on me. “Look at you. Look at this. Your sister’s dead and you’re yukkin’ it up with beer and booze. What’s the matter with you?”

  “Get out,” I whispered.

  “I will. Happily. You give me the boy,” he shot back. “He doesn’t need to be around this, and mark my words, girl, the judge will hear about this.”

  “Get out,” I repeated, louder this time.

  Dad again ignored me. “Waste of time. Waste of space. You always were. Just prove it over and over since you first started breathin’. Just like that sister of yours. Now, give me the boy and I’ll go.”

  “Xavier.” Aunt Wilona was there, standing close to Maybelle. “Let’s speak outside.”

  Dad turned blazing eyes on his sister and announced, “You’re done. You’ll see that boy again over my dead body.”

  Aunt Wilona paled.

  “Sir, you really should leave.”

  This was said by Nina, who was also now in my huddle, which had been joined by Arlene, Kami, Becca, Mindy, Jenna, and Cotton, with Max and Jeff patrolling the outside, bodies loose and in motion, eyes locked on Dad. I felt a presence at my back and I didn’t have to look to know it was Greg.

  Dad spared Nina barely a glance before he looked back to Aunt Wilona.

  “I gave orders,” he reminded her.

  “He missed his mother’s funeral,” she returned, her back slamming straight. “He was not going to miss this.”

  “That isn’t your decision,” Dad fired back.

  “You’re wrong. I gave him bottles. I changed his diapers. I cooked his dinners. I made his lunches. I baked his birthday cakes,” she retorted. “You simply showed every once in a while, acted an ass, confused him, didn’t let his grandmother love on him, like she was tainted by his mother when his mother was tainted by you, and you were a general all-around pain in the behind, so I think I definitely get to make those decisions.”

  “You’d be wrong,” he clipped.

  “Since I got my boy, I’ve never been wrong, Xavier, and you’ve never been right,” she leaned in and hissed.

  And it was then, Dad lost it. Given his target, not one to miss that kind of opportunity, his hand went down and across his front, then he swiftly and powerfully backhanded Aunt Wilona across the cheek.

  She went flying and the crowd around us flew into motion but Dad had a lot of practice with this and no sooner had he clocked Aunt Wilona, he took two steps my way and suddenly had his hand wrapped tight around my throat. His other hand was up and fisted in my hair, pulling hard, making pain shaft over my scalp and down the back of my neck as his hand at my throat squeezed, this making it hard to breathe.

  “Take your hands off her,” I heard Max growl from close even as I felt Greg move in behind me, his hand at my dad’s hand in my hair, but Dad had such a firm hold, there was nothing Greg could do without hurting me more.

  Dad’s face was in mine, oblivious to all this, his eyes blazing with his brand of righteous fury that I’d seen time and again, remembered like he’d burned that look into me just yesterday, and I stood immobile with terror.

  “You think to take my money?” Dad snarled in my face.

  “Get… your hands… off her,” Max bit out and he was even closer but I didn’t tear my eyes away from my father’s.

  No, that wasn’t right. I couldn’t.

  “My lawyers say we’re gonna have to sell our house, pay back what they say we owe you,” he spat.

  I tried to suck in air as his hand squeezed.

  “Got one more chance,” Max warned.

  “Sell our cars, sell fuckin’ everything,” Dad clipped, yanking on my hair and I whimpered.

  “Greg, move away. Jeff, get behind Zara,” Max ordered.

  I stared into Dad’s eyes.

  “You’re a piece of shit,” he whispered, his voice filled with venom. “Your sister was a piece of shit. The minute your mother pushed the both of you out, I should have done what you do with a piece of shit. I should have flushed you away.”

  That was when I’d had enough.

  My knee moving without me telling it to do so, I brought it up, brutal and sharp, and connected violently with my father’s privates.

  He grunted in pain, released me instantly to curl into himself, but he didn’t get there.

  That was because he was yanked back by his hair, turned, and Ham had his hand in a death grip at his throat. Ham was advancing, shoving Dad toward the front door even as he rumbled in an absolute, downright terrifying tone, “Get Zander clear.”

  My hands went to my throat. Maybelle and Wanda came to me. I sucked in breath and watched Max, Latrell, Cotton, Jeff, Greg, and Pete follow Ham as he shoved Dad out the front door.

  “You okay, hon?” Wanda asked.

  I didn’t answer.

  My head turned to see Mindy, Becca, and Aunt Wilona guiding a pale-faced, terrified-looking Zander down the hall. Ascertaining he was in good hands, I ran out the front door.

  I also had to run through the front yard because Ham had Dad pinned to the side of an SUV parked at the front of the house. Dad’s face was so red, it was purpling, his mouth opening and closing and Ham was in his face, his hand still wrapped around Dad’s throat. He was obviously squeezing. Hard.

  The men were huddling close and I tried to push through but they stood firm so I could find no opening.

  “Reece, stand down,” I heard Max order.

  With a mighty heave, I shoved between Latrell and Pete.

  “Reece, Zara,” Max warned, telling him I was there.

  Dad made a choking noise.

  Ham didn’t move.

  “Reece.” Jeff got close and Jeff, incidentally and at that moment frighteningly, was an officer of the law. “This is not the way you want this to end.”

  At these words, Ham shoved Dad off so hard Dad’s head cracked against the SUV.

  He stepped away, scowling his scary, scarier, scariest by far scowl at my dad.

  I got close and plastered myself against his side. The instant I did, Ham’s arm slid around my shoulders and he tucked me even closer but his eyes didn’t leave Dad. Still glowering at Dad, Ham then lifted his other hand and rested it curled light, warm, and I could tell he wanted it to be healing, at the front of my throat.

  Finally, he whispered to Dad in his still scary voice, “You put your hands on her.”

  Dad had both hands to his throat and was sucking in air, slightly bent, but he was still able to glare at Ham.

  “First time you put your hands on her that she remembers, she was five,” Ham announced.

 
; A squeak came from the crowd surrounding this tableau as well as some movement, gasps, and whispers but I knew that squeak was Mom’s.

  “You beat her, you beat her sister, you made her watch that and you made her watch when you took your hand to her mother. Then you stole her nephew, stole her money, watched her swing and you got the balls to walk into our house and put your hands on her?” Ham asked.

  Dad coughed, then bent over and spit in the yard.

  Ham pulled in a mighty breath, turned to Jeff, and let it go, stating, “We’re pressing charges.”

  Dad’s head shot up and I heard Mom squeak again.

  “You just accosted me!” Dad yelled.

  Ham cut his eyes to him. “You were in my home, abusing my woman in front of witnesses. I got a right to defend my home and I definitely got the right to defend my woman.”

  “He’s not wrong,” Jeff declared and he looked at Pete, asking, “You got cuffs?”

  Pete, also an officer of the law, nodded while moving and replied, “In my vehicle.” Then he took off on a run toward his car.

  “Sir, face the vehicle, hands behind your head,” Jeff ordered.

  “Are you insane?” Dad asked, eyes round, face red now for a different reason.

  “Sir, I said, face the vehicle,” Jeff repeated.

  “I will not do that,” Dad snapped.

  “Then you’ll face resisting arrest on top of the other charges you got, and I see you aren’t thinkin’ all this through, but the ones you already got aren’t real good. My advice, you need to start actin’ smart and you need to do that right about now,” Jeff advised.

  “She’s my daughter,” Dad spat, like that entitled him to do what he did and more gasps and whispers slid through the crowd.

  “She’s an adult whose home you entered without permission and against her wishes and then proceeded, in front of witnesses, to assault her and another woman. But, just sayin’, even if she wasn’t an adult but she was a kid, that shit would actually be”—he leaned in to Dad, his usually mellow expression dissolving into fury before he finished—“worse. Now, face the vehicle and put your goddamned hands behind your head.”