Games of the Heart (21 page)

“Okay, so we’re talking. Can we do it with you not touching me?” I sort of gave in.

“No,” he denied and I glared at him.

“Mike, seriously, this is not cool.”

“What wasn’t cool was me bein’ an ass, treatin’ you like shit and then lettin’ you walk away from me after I did it instead of doin’ everything I could to keep you with me and making you understand. That isn’t happening again.”

“I know the answer to this already because clearly you’re fired up to right wrongs and don’t really give a shit what I want. But does it matter that perhaps I’d prefer you
not
to be in my space while we have this little chat?”

“You’re pissed at me,” he declared.

“Uh,
wrong,
” I snapped. “I’m
more than
pissed at you.”

“Right, so, you get more than pissed at someone who means something to you, you can be driven to do stupid shit. I’m not takin’ that chance either. So, you’re right. I don’t give a shit about what you want so it doesn’t matter that you want space because you aren’t getting it.”

I felt my eyebrows raise and I asked, “Are you serious?”

“Deadly,” he answered immediately making the unmistakable statement that he was, indeed, deadly serious.

I clamped my mouth shut.

Mike looked to my mouth, something else I wished he didn’t do, then back to my eyes.

“Suffice it to say my marriage was not a good one,” he declared.

“Uh…I think I got that too,” I replied.

“I own a six thousand dollar bed.”

I blinked for a variety of reasons. One being in the current circumstances this was a weird thing to share. Two being that I didn’t even know beds cost that much. Three being the fact that Mike dressed nice, he had a decent car and from what I would allow myself to take in it seemed he had a pretty nice house but he was still a cop.

“That’s about ten percent of my yearly salary if I don’t do overtime,” Mike continued.

For a bed, way too much just generally.
Way
too much for a man who made his salary. And way,
way
too much for a man who made his salary who had two kids.

“My ex-wife bought that bed without discussing it with me. It was non-returnable, non-refundable. Store policy which they had another policy to explain verbally upon purchase so she knew this when she bought it. She knew we couldn’t take it back. I did five months of overtime to cover that bed, my guys at the Station knowin’ that shit was my life lettin’ me pull it and sacrificing gettin’ it themselves.”

He stopped talking and I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t. That was whacked. Five months of overtime was a long time and six thousand dollars was a lot of money to cover.

He must have worked his ass off.

When I didn’t speak, Mike kept going.

“When we divorced, she had two hundred and twenty-eight pairs of shoes. Fifty of them cost more than seven hundred dollars.”

That was thirty-five thousand dollars worth of shoes.

Thirty-five thousand dollars.

I stared up at him, speechless, entirely unable to wrap my mind around this fact.

He continued, “You wear ‘em, you can’t return ‘em. By the time I knew she had ‘em, she’d worn ‘em.”

“Oh my God,” I whispered.

“Yeah, though that doesn’t come close to covering it. Fucking shit is more like it seein’ as I’m not even scratchin’ the surface with this crap. She bought, she lied, she taught our kids to cover her ass so in other words she taught them to lie. And after she quit her job when we got married, she didn’t work a day in her life until we got divorced.”

I stared and I did it with my lips parted, utterly stunned.

She spent that kind of cake and didn’t work?

Mike wasn’t done.

“Me, on the other hand, in the beginning worked two jobs. Eighty hours a week. Then I made detective and still, I had to pull as much overtime as I could. And even with all that shit, when we got divorced, we had twenty thousand dollars worth of credit card debt. I’d cancel one, she’d apply for a new one and not tell me. By the time I found out, it would be maxed.”

“That’s crazy,” I whispered.

“That’s Audrey. That was my life. Addiction and what comes with it. Deceit and betrayal. I lived that shit for fifteen years, Dusty. So, honey, I hope you get that my ex trained me well not to trust easy.”

Oh I got that all right. I couldn’t miss it.

And that sucked for him. Huge. And worse, I wanted to be pissed at him but I felt bad he went through that. That was how much it sucked.

He kept going.

“We had a big house, four bedrooms, huge yard, lots of trees. Audrey pushed me to that too, way too early, before we could afford it but I loved that fucking house. I worked my ass off for that house. The kids had great rooms. The dog had room to roam. Then I’m forty and downsizing. We made money on the sale and the judge took one look at the accounting and her work history and he took that twenty K out of her half of the house. But still, my half wouldn’t set me up like that again and let me set my kids up like that. And I knew what life I wanted to lead. I knew it for a long time. I worked hard and even with her bullshit, I got it and I gave it to my kids. Nice house in the established part of The ‘Burg where the houses are graceful and the yards are huge and the trees are old. Kids. Dog. Barbeques in the summer. A big Christmas tree in the front window at Christmas. And all that was gone. My ass was in a cookie-cutter townhome with absolutely no personality and I was starting over at forty.”

“That sucks, Mike,” I whispered my understatement unable to come up with words to do it justice.

“Yeah, it did,” he replied instantly. “And it marked me. With her, I knew I was not living the dream, at least the part of it that slept in my bed with me. But the rest of it, what I earned, what I provided for my kids, I was. And that all went away and by the time I’m set to give it to them again, they’ll be gone so that dream is gone too.”

“I’m sorry.” I was still whispering and I was sorry. Truly. That more than sucked. I just didn’t know what more than sucked was.

“I am too. I was then and I still am. It sucks to lose your dream. But then I met Vi and it hit me I might have a shot at the other part, havin’ the woman I want sleepin’ in bed beside me and I lost that too. The shit part of that was, I knew I’d lose even when I took my shot but I did it anyway because the promise of her was so fuckin’ sweet I couldn’t stop myself. So I didn’t. I went in, eyes open, playin’ games for her heart. And I lost. Now she’s married to another man and givin’ him babies. And that stung.”

I knew it did. I knew. Because I only knew that little bit and the way he told it, it stung me too.

“Mike,” I said softly.

“So, just weeks ago, there I was again after going to a friend’s funeral, I’m suddenly with a woman whose promise is so fuckin’ sweet, she makes Vi, who’s beautiful, funny and kind, seem like sloppy seconds. But I didn’t forget goin’ through what I went through, not for one fuckin’ second. I looked for every reason I could to prove she wasn’t what she consistently seemed to be. I looked for any reason I could find to set her away from me. And I did a bang up job and found ‘em. They just were shit. I didn’t know it but they were. And to protect myself, I acted selfishly, threw them in her face, wounded her and forced her to run away from me.”

I closed my eyes.

“Look at me, Dusty,” he ordered.

I opened my eyes.

“For weeks, every day, ten times a day, I run through the shit I said to you and every day, ten times a day, your words come back to me and I regret that whole scene. I do not regret marrying Audrey because she gave me No and Reesee. I do not regret gettin’ to know Vi because she’s a good woman, she’s still in my life and I like her there. I look back at my life and I don’t regret anything I’ve done except that Saturday afternoon and what I did to you.”

That was huge.
Huge.
Overwhelming.

All of it was overwhelming.

“I don’t know what to say,” I whispered.

“The bad news for you, there’s nothing for you to say. You’re right, I’m here to right wrongs and I’m gonna do it, Angel. You told me I’d had my last chance but I don’t accept that and I won’t. If you tell me now that my explanation is not enough and you want me gone, I’m not goin’. I’m not giving up. I got one part of my life’s dream still open to me, every sign she gives me is screaming that she’s standing in my arms right now and I’m not gonna be ninety years old, looking back on my life and regretting that I gave up that dream.”

It was then I realized I was breathing heavily.

And through that, I forced out, “Mike, you don’t want kids. I do. Not a little. A whole lot. I’m not going to –”

He cut me off with, “How many?”

I blinked and asked, “What?”

“How many kids do you want?”

“Perfect world, two. But I’d take one.”

“This works out, we’d make beautiful babies.”

It was then I realized I wasn’t breathing
at all.

With effort, I forced out, “Are you serious?”

“Are you serious that you want kids?” he shot back.

I nodded.

“Then yes.”

“But how can you change your mind just like that?” I asked.

“Honey, you ran away from me nearly three weeks ago. It was not ‘just like that’. Dreams don’t happen and that’s it. You have to feed them and keep them alive. And if kids feed you, it would far from suck to give you that. Do I want to be a new Dad in my forties? Fuck no. If I get my dream, am I willing to feed it what it needs? Absolutely.”

I didn’t know what to do with this. I couldn’t even process it.

“But you don’t want to be a new Dad in your forties,” I reminded him of something he just then told me.

His arm got tighter, he pushed me deeper into the wall and his voice got lower when he said, “This is the deal, Angel. You…ran…
away from me.
And I tasted regret for the first time in my life. And that didn’t sting, it fuckin’
killed.
So you need to know this. You want kids, I’ll give them to you and, trust me, sweetheart, I’ll be happy. I like kids and, like I said, you and me’ll make beautiful ones. Now, I can’t move until Reesee is in college. After that, you want Texas, I’ll be there. Before that, we’ll find some way to deal.”

“Mike,” I whispered, “we’ve known each other in real-life terms for a day.”

“No, Dusty. I’ve loved you since you were twelve and I’ve read your diaries, you can’t deny you felt the same fuckin’ thing. You weren’t old enough then for my thoughts to go there but we both know that bond started then and we both know just how it changed when it snapped tight in that hotel room. I’m not saying we drop to the floor right now and start tryin’ for a baby and I’m not askin’ you to marry me. I am sayin’ that I care about you, I do it deeply and I have for a really fuckin’ long time. We’re gonna explore this and I hope to God the feelin’ I got is not wrong because I tried time and again to make it feel wrong but all it ever felt was right.”

I stared into his dark brown eyes that, throughout this, never left mine.

Then I whispered, “I can’t go through that again, what you did to me.”

“I won’t make you.”

“Mike –”

His head dropped so his lips were nearly on mine and his eyes were so close they were all I could see.

“I
won’t make you.
”

God, his words were a rumbly growl I felt against my skin where, I swear, it felt like they were seeping in, entering my bloodstream, warm and sweet.

I heard my cell ring and my eyes went from Mike’s to his shoulder since he was so close I couldn’t see around him.

“Leave it,” he ordered and I looked back up at him.

“I can’t,” I said softly. “Rhonda isn’t good. The boys are out at a movie with her tonight and if –”

He let me go but immediately grabbed my hand and walked me to the coffee table where my phone was.

We both looked down at the display.

“Not the boys,” Mike stated on a mutter but I saw who was on the display. My chest seized, my mind went blank with fury and even with my hand still held in Mike’s, I bent, snatched it up and used my thumb to take the call.

Then I put it to my ear.

“You’re on drugs having the gall to call me,” I said to my bitchface sister and felt Mike’s hand tighten in mine even as his body drew nearer.

“Nice,” she hissed.

“Unless you’re calling to apologize for what you’ve been doing to Rhonda and how you’ve flipped out Fin, I have not one thing to say to you,” I announced.

“Oh yes you do. I own a quarter of that farm and –” she started.

“I’m buying you out,” I declared and Mike got even closer.

“Do you think I’d let you buy me out?” Debbie hooted in my ear.

“I do,” I fired back. “Because if you don’t, I’m hunting your bitch ass down, tying you to a chair and torturing you until you sign your quarter of the farm to me.”

I got that out then was not able to say another word or hear my sister’s reply because the phone suddenly wasn’t in my hand, it was in Mike’s. Then he was not holding my other hand, he had my phone to his ear and he’d walked three steps away.