All That Matters (14 page)

<#<#<#<#

Meg turned the key in the front door and stepped inside. She shut the door, locked it and walked into the kitchen. She felt like a robot just going through the motions, but she was just so drained. Giving her statement at the police station had made her sick to her stomach, and that feeling had just gotten worse. The social worker was nice enough, but she explained that her hands were tied until Meg was awarded custody or became a certified foster parent.

The boys were now in the custody of the state. Because Monroe still had some friends, Leo was with an actual family instead of in a group home. Joshua was being held at the psych ward for a mandatory seventy-two hour observation period. His stay would determine what his next step would be. The police were looking for Josh, and she knew that they wouldn't find him. He was good at hiding. Meg took the paperwork the social worker told her she'd need for court and sat down at the kitchen table. She filled it out carefully, used her best handwriting to make a good impression, even though it couldn't possibly matter. Her foot tapped nervously against the floor as she tried to figure out how long this all would take. Would she even get custody? She wasn't even working at the moment.

Caroline had offered her a job being her hands until she could work properly again, and after that, to stay on and be her assistant, because running both places had been taking a toll. Meg had lied and said she'd had another offer; she'd asked for time to make the choice. Now, it didn't seem there was a choice. She needed a job to appear stable even if that job meant contact with Train.

Since the night he'd slipped out of her bed in the middle of the night, they hadn't laid eyes on one another or spoken. It didn't matter now; she needed to do what she had to do to get the boys back. She'd lived through worse than having to smile at a man who'd turned out to be nothing close to what she'd thought. Meg fished out her phone, found Caroline's number and dialed.

Caroline answered on the second ring. “Hey, Meg. What's up?”

“Is that job still available?” Meg asked.

“It's yours,” Caroline replied with a laugh. “I'm so glad that you decided. Have you and the boys eaten? I made chili, enough to feed Nightshade and then some. So, you should come over if you haven't eaten.”

Meg shut her eyes. “The boys aren't... they're with...” Her voice shook and cracked. She dug her nails into her palm to try to feel something like focus. It worked a little. “When should I start?”

“Tomorrow's good with me. Be there for nine o'clock. Meg, is everything okay? You sound upset.” Caroline sounded concerned. She really was a nice woman.

“I'm okay. I've got to go.” Meg ended the call. She was pretty sure that Monroe would fill them in on what had happened. Caroline would understand why she couldn't talk.

Meg set the alarm on her phone so she'd be able to be at the bakery for nine and plugged her phone in to charge. Without anything else to occupy her mind, she changed clothes and began to clean. The social worker had said that there would be a home inspection. It was important to her that she passed it with flying colors. Meg took pride in the house. She'd learned to sew to make the curtains and slipcovers for the aging sofa, scoured garage sales for rugs, furniture and the paintings she had on the walls.

As she cleaned, she searched for anything else Josh might have left hidden in the house and made a mental note to figure out how to change the locks. She didn't want him under her roof. She didn't want to see him, because she knew that it was going to end in a physical altercation. When she got to his room, she used an entire box of garbage bags to clear out every trace of him.

She'd found a dozen pills she didn't recognize, six used syringes and several kits of everything that he'd need to shoot up. He must have been using the space between his toes, because she hadn't noticed track marks on his arms. Meg hadn't realized that he'd graduated from snorting it, but it wasn't exactly a surprise.

On her second trip down to the basement with the bags, she heard a knock on the door. If it were Josh, he'd have used his key and then his shoulder to pop the chain. The knock came again, louder and more impatient this time. Meg reached the door and looked out the peephole. Her heart skipped a beat or two when she saw Train on the other side. He knocked again. Meg took a deep breath and opened the door. She didn't know what to say, so she just stood there. “Hey.” He stuck his hands into his pockets.

“It's late, Train, and I'm tired. What's do you want?” She didn't have it in her to be friendly. He took a step forward but she remained where she was.

“Can I come in? It's cold as fuck out here.”

“Did you seriously come here expecting a warm welcome? I'm sure that you've heard, I'm having a pretty shitty day, and I am not in the mood for it. So, say whatever you came here to say.” Meg crossed her arms over her chest, held her ground even when he stepped forward.

He had no right to look so good in just jeans and a thermal, but he did. He'd also cut his hair and let the stubble on his face grow. Meg tried to look away from him, but he reached out and grabbed her by the chin. “Why didn't you call me?”

“Why would I?” Meg replied. “You haven't answered any of the calls I already made or the texts I sent.” She stepped back so he'd have to take his hands off of her; it was impossible to think when he was touching her.

He stepped forward and the next thing that Meg knew, they were in the house. His eyes flashed darkly.

“Something like this, you should have called me.” He turned and locked the door. “Monroe took the prospects out to find Josh. They'll find him. Maggie's going to talk to a friend of hers who works on the floor where they've got Joshua, see what she can find out.”

“Thanks for letting me know,” Meg replied stiffly.

“My head got loud that night. I couldn't stay. When I get like that it's better if I'm alone.” He remained a foot or so away from her. “I knew it was a shitty thing to do. I did it anyway. I didn't want to have to explain and answer questions. I told you I'd fuck this up.” He ran his hands through his hair. “I'll go if you want. I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“I'm not,” Meg answered. “I'm really not.” She took his hands when he held them out to her. “It's so quiet in here. I thought that I'd be okay but... I started to clean out Josh's room. I found drugs, dirty needles. The boys could have gotten to those things. The boys were carrying his fucking shit! All nicely bagged for distribution. I didn't even realize. I was distracted.” She'd been depressed, down and wrapped up in her wallowing. It had made her blind. “You're not the only one who can fuck things up. I fucked up with the boys. I...”

“You are the best thing that those boys have going for them.” He closed the distance between them now, reached up to grip her chin again. This time she didn't pull back. “They're damn lucky to have you. Don't you forget that, ever.”

“What if I can't get them back? What if the court doesn't let me? What happens then?” Meg heard her voice shake. She didn't bother to try to control it.

“That isn't going to happen.” His voice was low; it soothed something she hadn't realized was raw inside of her. Meg tried to look away, but he held onto her. “You're going to get them back. No more of that talk.”

“Why do you care?” Meg didn't know if she was going to laugh or cry, maybe both.

“Because I care. It's why my head got loud. Why I left. I can't explain it much better than that, but I am sorry that if it hurt your feelings. I didn't want that.”

“What do you want, Train? It's late and I'm tired. I'm so tired.”

“I can tell. You look like shit.”

“Gee, thanks.” Meg felt herself smile. How could she be smiling? What was wrong with her? Before she had a chance to question herself further, his arms were around her. He held her tight. So tight that it was a little hard to breathe. She didn't move or complain; instead she wrapped her arms around him and let everything she'd been holding back loose.

He didn't try to speak or to comfort her, he just held her and let the tears run their course. “I'm sorry.”

“Don't be sorry. Just maybe warn me if you're going to do that again.” He pressed his lips to her hair. “You feel any better now?”

“A little bit.” Meg smiled and listened to the sound of his heartbeat. “You never answered my question. What is it that you want?” In the silence that followed the question, she felt and heard his heart speed up. It was only then that she realized how far outside of his comfort zone she must have thrown him. You know what, it doesn't matter.”

“It matters.” He squeezed her tighter. “I want you.”

Meg shut her eyes and let the warmth of the words roll over her. She wanted him, too. The time that had passed since he'd left her in the middle of the night had been full of second guesses and a tumble in self-esteem. “Don't leave me like that again.” As strange as it made her feel to say it out loud, she needed to be up front about that. “If you have to go, you tell me. I don't care how you say it. Just say it.”

“Alright, I'll just say it.” He sounded a little uncomfortable himself. Again she realized how much he was trying.

“Thank you.” She pulled her head away from his chest so that she could look at him. “Now, I need to ask you a favor.”

“I'll take care of Josh. Don't you worry about that shithead at all.”

“It wasn't about him.” Meg realized that it probably made her a horrible sister because what he said about Josh didn't even make her blink or protest. Anything that happened to Josh was what he deserved, what he'd earned.

“Anything,” he replied without hesitation.

“I don't want to stay here. Not tonight, maybe not ever.” She laid her head back against his chest.

“Alright, we'll go back to my place. You wanna grab your shit?”

“I just want to get out of here. I just need to grab my phone and purse.” She stepped back from him, looked around and tried to remember where she'd put them down at. The phone was on the table. “Where the hell did I leave it?”

“Check that chair,” he suggested.

“Apparently, I'm going blind. Thank you.” She grabbed the bag from the chair right where she'd been standing. Her mind really was fried, but it wasn't exactly a surprise, not with everything that she'd been through.

Meg let him take her by the hand and lead her out of the house. She wasn't sure she'd be able to walk back inside it until the boys were home; it hurt too much to be surrounded by the silence. And if she didn't get them back, well, that was a bridge to jump off of when she got to it.

<#<#<#<#

Bright light woke Meg. She panicked for a moment because she didn't know where she was. It only took a minute to remember. Sadness swallowed her, and it only grew when she realized that she was alone. The sheets on the other side of the bed were rumpled but cold. Train had been up for a while.

The night before was a bit of a blur after they'd gotten back to his house. He'd lit a joint of some seriously amazing weed and gotten her seriously high. She remembered changing into one of his shirts, just the shirt and his bed. His bed was pretty amazing. It was huge with the softest sheets and fluffiest down comforter she'd ever felt. Once her head had hit the pillow she was half asleep, but she remembered the feeling of his body warm against hers. It had felt so safe, so right. Still, now that she was alone in the bright light of the morning, she didn't feel safe. She felt exposed, vulnerable to anything that might come at her.

Meg jumped when the bedroom door opened. Train shut the door and looked over at her. He was naked. Completely naked. “Morning,” he smiled at her.

“Morning,” she replied as if naked men stood in front of her every day. Her eyes were drawn to the intricately inked tree on his chest. It was one of the most haunting tattoos that she'd ever seen. The colors were dark and ominous. The branches were bare, some seemed frail enough to break in a strong wind while others were thick and strong. Once, she'd tried to reach out and touch the branches, but he'd stopped her. As tempted as she was, she wouldn't do it again.

“I went to your house, grabbed some of your shit. Figured you'd want to shower and you'd need it.” He motioned towards the chair in the corner where there was a black duffel bag. “Do you not like my ink?”