Jagged (40 page)

I sat next to him on the bed and took his hand. “It’s all cool, darlin’.”

“Uncle Reece was real mad,” he replied.

He was not wrong about that.

“Yep, he likes me a whole bunch and doesn’t like it when someone hurts me, but he’s okay now,” I assured him.

“Is Nona okay?” he asked.

I nodded. “I’ve got a good friend takin’ care of her.”

Zander’s eyes moved over my face, possibly in an attempt to make sure I was telling the truth.

I figured he believed me but still, he asked, “Can I go to her?”

He was a good kid and he loved his Nona. Which meant she’d earned that love.

Without delay, I got off the bed, pulling him up with me. “Let’s go.”

I took Zander to Aunt Wilona. They huddled. I hung with them, taking their pulse, and when it seemed Aunt Wilona had it covered, I wandered out of the kitchen and found Ham.

I moved right to him and fitted myself to his side.

When I did, one of his arms went around my shoulders and he lifted his other hand, shifting my hair away. His fingertips gliding over the shell of my ear, and they slid down my neck and across my throat.

“All good?” he murmured.

“Better than ever,” I replied and when he looked like he didn’t believe me, I leaned into him whispered, “I think you may have noticed this already, but some of us Cinders, we’re survivors.”

He held my eyes and lifted his hand to cup my jaw as he bent his head to mine.

“Don’t know about the others, but I know that’s true about you.”

My arms already around him tightened.

“Love my cookie,” he said softly and I felt a smile curve my lips.

“And I love my bruiser,” I replied and watched a smile curve his.

Then he dipped his head farther to touch his lips to mine, and when he was still doing that, we heard Arlene shout, “Got the champagne!”

Ham broke our contact and we turned our heads to see Arlene and Kami at the door and each held a bottle of champagne in both their hands. Arlene’s eyes were on Ham.

“Big bear of a hot guy, there’s a case in my car. I reckon you won’t have problems liftin’ it. So get your hind end out there and do that,” she ordered.

I laughed as I heard Ham’s chuckle. Then I got two squeezes and my man let me go in order to move to the front door.

I watched him go.

Then I looked through my house at my friends, Xenia’s friends, knowing my nephew was in the kitchen with my aunt, and listening to muted music, unmuted chatter, then finally hearing a champagne cork pop.

My eyes slid to one of the framed photos of my sister on my bar.

“Wish you were here, darlin’,” I whispered across the room to the photo.

As ever, I got no reply.

Then I moved that way in order to find cups.

Three months later…

“But I’m not crazy!”

I shouted this and Zander, lying beside me in the dark on a blanket over the snow on Xenia’s grave, jumped a mile and gave out a strangled scream.

I’d just told him one of Xenia’s doozies, a scary story that was the best of all her scary stories, with the kill line being the one I’d just delivered.

I knew it was a weird, me and my nephew out at night in the cold dark lying on my sister’s grave.

I also didn’t care.

I wanted her with us and this was as good as we were both going to get.

Anyway, Zander thought it was awesome. I’d heard him with his friends when he didn’t think I could hear and he told them I was the coolest aunt ever, primarily because I was crazy and part of this craziness was me taking him to his mom’s grave at night, this being something all his friends thought was totally weird and therefore
awesome.

Since Xenia’s memorial, Ham and I saw Zander and Aunt Wilona frequently. We went to their place for dinner, they came to ours, and Zander came often, Aunt Wilona dropping him or Ham and I picking him up so he could hang, watch movies, go out to movies with us, or whatever.

And we’d had Zander and his friends over for two sleepovers and, as I mentioned, his friends thought I was awesome because I was crazy. But they thought Ham was awesome because he was big and scary, had a bike, worked at a bar, and exuded such badass awesomeness that any nine year-old-boy would appreciate it.

Zander and I were both on our backs and when he screamed, I turned to my side and got up on my forearm.

“I got ya,” I stated the obvious, smiling at him through the dark.

“Yeah,” he replied, pushing up to both his forearms in the blanket behind him and I could see his smile lit by moonlight. “That was a good one.”

“I always get ya,” I reminded him.

“One of these times, you won’t get me,” he returned.

I knew he was right. I’d run out of stories or he’d grow up and not be so easy to scare.

But we had this now. What Xenia gave to me, telling me these stories, I gave to her son because she couldn’t. And I thanked God every Sunday at church, dragging myself and Ham there even if we worked the shift the night before, in order to do it.

“Tomorrow’s gonna be killer,” Zander stated and I focused back on him.

He was right. Tomorrow was going to be killer.

Because tomorrow, in a small ceremony officiated in the church by Pastor Williams, followed by a party in a function room at The Rooster, I was marrying Ham.

“Totally,” I agreed.

“It’s cool Uncle Reece asked me to be a groomsman. He barely knows me.”

I agreed, absolutely. It was cool.

When Ham told me he was going to ask Zander, I’d had to fight back tears. Then I jumped his bones.

I figured Ham asked Zander because he liked Zander a whole lot. I also figured he did this so I could have part of my sister standing up with us.

Yes, still, every day in every way I was falling deeper in love with my man.

“He’s gettin’ to know you and what he knows, he likes,” I shared. “And you mean a lot to me so I think it’s way cool, and we’re both glad you said yes.”

“That’s awesome,” Zander whispered in a way I knew he definitely thought it was awesome.

Suffice it to say, I was right on our first meeting. With Dad the only man in Zander’s life, not around a lot, and when he was, not in good ways, Zander was sucking up all he could of Ham. And Ham did not mind at all. Each time they saw each other, they got tighter and tighter.

I loved it and what I loved even more was that Aunt Wilona loved it as well. Any hesitancy she might have had with Ham, she lost the day of Xenia’s memorial. But we’d all been growing close, and it wasn’t hard to read she was relieved and grateful that her boy had a good man in his life. Finally.

“Seein’ as I have to be all gussied up and to the church on time tomorrow, we probably should be gettin’ back,” I told him, even though, to save the drive for them tomorrow, which wasn’t long but we had the space so why not, Aunt Wilona and Zander were spending the night with Ham and me.

Still, I was cold, it was growing late, and I wanted to get my nephew warm and myself back to my man.

“Okay,” Zander mumbled, shifting up to his feet.

He helped me pick up the blanket and shake the snow from it. Then I folded it and tucked it under my arm.

We started to move to my car but Zander glanced back and I stopped when he muttered, “Just a sec,” and moved to Xenia’s tombstone.

The bouquet of blood-red roses that we brought, the newest one since we always brought one to Xenia when we came, had tipped to the side. Zander went down to his knees, righted it, shoving it into the snow and mounding more around it to keep it steady.

I swallowed against a tingle in my throat as he jumped to his feet and came back to me.

“We can go now,” he told me, his head tipped back to catch my eyes.

“All right, darlin’,” I replied softly, lifting a hand to squeeze the back of his neck before I let it drop away.

We walked side-by-side to the car and it had been so long, I had searched for it so often and never got it, I gave up on trying to feel it.

So I missed the light, cool, gentle breeze that followed us to the car.

* * *

Two hours later…

“Ham,”
I breathed and I did it quietly, since they were probably asleep, but my aunt and nephew were in the house, Ham was driving inside me, and I didn’t want them to hear me coming.

“Love that, baby,” Ham growled, his hips moving faster, harder, driving deep. “Love
you,
Zara.”

At that, I lifted my head and shoved my face in his neck, my limbs tightening around him, my orgasm searing through me, and with his words came a warmth after the burn that had nothing to do with my climax.

And everything to do with love.

* * *

Reece

The next evening…

Reece stood alone at the bar in the function room at The Rooster, his eyes aimed at his wife.

Zara Reece.

Fuck, Zara was his wife. Something he never thought he’d have again. Something he thought he never wanted to have again. Something, in having, it being her, that day Zara taking his name, something he thought was the most precious gift he’d ever received.

Zara was laughing with Nina and a now-showing Mindy. Always damned pretty, today, no doubt about it, his new wife was beautiful.

The ceremony was small, this party the same, but she’d pulled out all the stops when it came to her appearance.

She’d bought a strapless ivory dress that was covered in lace and had shimmering flakes that caught the light. It skimmed her curves and fanned out in a kick with a short train at the back. Her soft hair was curled and pulled up away from her face and neck. Her makeup highlighted every pretty feature on her face. She wore pearls at her ears, neck, and wrist, borrowed from Maybelline, who’d worn the same on her wedding day.

Since his bride was fancy, Reece had bought a new suit and worn a tie.

The tie was long since gone, his ivory shirt opened at the collar, a beer in his hand.

Zara had divested him of his tie in the back of the limousine that took them up to The Rooster and she’d done this about ten minutes before she’d yanked that lacy, shimmering skirt up her hips and climbed on his lap, slid down on his cock, and rode him slow and easy, then hard and rough until they both found it.

The Rooster was damned good food and worth the long, one-hour drive to get there.

Still, that night in their limousine, his wife riding his cock, wearing her wedding gown, smelling good, looking better, feeling fucking great, and bearing his name, Reece wouldn’t have minded that drive being a fuckuva lot longer.

Zara might be ticked off, but although there were arrangements of red and ivory roses on the tables, a three-tiered wedding cake they’d eventually get to cutting, and a DJ, this was not a formal reception.

This was a party.

None of that traditional stuff, speeches, special dances, and bouquet and garter throwing.

Just booze, food, good friends, good music, and good times.

Easy.

Reece watched and felt his lips curve up as he did so when Nina said something that made Zara laugh. His lips curved deeper when Wilona approached and, without hesitation, still laughing, his wife slid her arm around her aunt’s waist and pulled her close, Wilona returning the favor and smiling at her niece.

Tearing his eyes from her, they drifted across the room to see Zara’s maternal aunts chatting and smiling with Zander. Zara’s mother wasn’t there, wasn’t invited, but when Zara had called her mother’s sisters, told them Amy Cinders would not be invited but asked them to come, they said they wouldn’t miss it for the world.

He looked back at his wife.

His girl lost her sister, never had a mother or father to speak of, and it might have taken her a while, but she finally got herself a family.

“Took a gol’ darned long time but does a body good to see that.”

Reece’s head turned at these words and he looked down at Jimmy Cotton who had his eyes aimed Zara’s way.

“Agreed,” Reece murmured and Cotton looked at him.

“’Spose congratulations are in order,” Cotton grumbled in a way that said he’d give them but he didn’t like it. Then again, the man grumbled out of habit so Reece took no offense.

“Seein’ as I’m wearin’ this fuckin’ suit and my woman’s in a dress that cost a shitload more than our TV, yeah,” Reece agreed.

Cotton’s lips twitched and, his fingers wrapped around a bottle of beer, he settled in beside Reece.

Reece stayed silent and waited. Maybelline and Wanda had given their approval of his being in Zara’s life. His girl had told him so. Arlene did the same, showing it grumpily but still hilariously.

In the past few months, not around often but around, Cotton had not. And now the man, who never looked in a good mood and rarely acted like he was in one, seemed the same.

“Hear things are still a bit tied up,” Cotton noted, and if Reece knew where Cotton was going with this comment, he also knew Cotton wasn’t wrong.

Nina had been able to get a judge to schedule a hearing so they could unfreeze the accounts in order to access some of the money to continue to give Wilona the funds to keep Zander and to pay his tuition. But they hadn’t yet had a judge hear their full suit.

Seeing as Xavier’s case was weak, he had no money and was currently out on bond, awaiting trial for assault and trespass, and he was a jackass to boot, he’d been unable to find legal representation. That and the fact he had no leg to stand on meant he’d eventually lose. They just needed to wait it out. But the trial was now scheduled and although it was several months away, Xavier’s criminal trial coming fast on its heels, their wait had an end.

And even if he was stubbornly declaring his innocence for whatever twisted reason the man would do that, considering the number of witnesses he had to the acts he perpetrated in the home Reece gave Zara, Xavier was going down. This meant, in the coming months, he’d see jail time. Even if it wasn’t much, it was something.

And he’d lose everything.

Nina was not backing down and she was going after everything they owned as well as Dahlia Cinders, who’d put her house on the market but left town, whereabouts unknown until Nina’s investigator found her living in an apartment in Denver.