Pierced: Pierced Trilogy Boxed Set (52 page)

Sam is quiet for a long time and I think she’s horrified. Finally, she takes a breath and says softly, “Did he hit you too?”

I say nothing as I slowly nod my head. “She took the brunt of it, though.”

“Josh, I am so sorry that you had to witness all of that violence and cruelty as a child. I can’t imagine what that must have been like for you.” There are tears rolling slowly down Samantha’s cheeks, and her voice is soft and full of emotion as she lightly caresses my face. “You must have lived in so much fear at such a young age.”

“I am still living in fear, Samantha,” I tell her honestly, and she looks at me with a curious expression. As if she doesn’t understand what I’m talking about. “You saw those pictures in there,” I continue through clenched teeth. “I look like a clone of that fucker. I always wonder how she can love me so much when she can’t help but see that bastard every time she looks at me!”

Sam seems astonished as she gapes at me, mouth open, as if she can’t believe the words that have just come out of my mouth. “She loves you because you are her child; she carried you for nine months and gave birth to you. But just because you may look like him, Josh … that doesn’t mean you automatically act like him!”

“Except that I do, Sam. I have his same quick temper and his total disregard of women,” I say looking her in the eye.

She is still gaping at me with that astonished look in her eyes. “That’s it, isn’t it?” she says softly. “That’s why you’ve avoided relationships all this time. Because you’re afraid that you’ll be an abuser like your father.” Her voice is incredulous as she searches my eyes, and I’m not sure what she’s thinking. “That’s the reason, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” I answer forcefully, looking her in the eye. “That’s the reason, Sam. I am scared out of my fucking mind that one day I might lose control and hit you!” I have never felt so much shame before in my life and I can’t hold her gaze. This is the part where she runs, right?

“Well, I know that’s not possible.” Her words are simple and full of certainty, and I can’t help but look up at her again. “Josh, you are the sweetest, most thoughtful man I have ever known. You do not have a disregard for women. If anything, you have a deep and abiding concern for their welfare. You have shown me nothing but compassion when dealing with my case. And as for
us
… you have been so caring and gentle with me. So loving. And I have never felt anything but safe and protected with you.”

I frown slightly at her words. “Do you mean that?” I ask softly. “You feel safe with me?”

“Yes, I mean that,” she answers without hesitation. She pauses and takes my hands. “I’ve seen your quick temper, Josh. I have watched you grow angry at the drop of a hat. But even though I didn’t fully understand where that anger was coming from, I always knew that I was safe with you. And I know, with everything in me, that you would never physically hurt me. These hands could never hit me. It’s just not who you are, Joshua. I can see that so clearly … why can’t you?”

My frown deepens as I think about her question. Why can’t I see it? That I am not Danny Pierce. Mom and Lee Parson … they’re both always telling me that. Maybe they’re right. But … what if they’re not? What if they’re all wrong and someday I prove it? What if I prove it at Samantha’s expense? The question haunts me. But I’m distracted from it when Samantha steps closer to me. Still holding my hands, she wraps my arms around her waist, and I do as she’s silently asking and tighten my arms around her, holding her. She reaches up and takes my face in both her hands, looking deep into my eyes.

Our eyes lock and hold one another’s gaze for a long time, each of us searching for answers to so many unasked questions. Samantha leans in and kisses my lips softly and chastely. Then she looks at me, studying my face. What is this incredible woman doing with me? Why is she here? Leaning in, I kiss her this time, tenderly. Sweetly. And she rests her forehead on mine, eyes closed for a moment, as we simply hold on to each other.

“What are you doing with me, Samantha Colby?” The words are a whisper. A softly spoken fear. “You have to know that you can do so much better.”

She raises her head and looks at me long and hard. Then she runs a hand through my hair and cocks her head to one side as she studies me. “I disagree, Detective,” she says softly, looking me in the eye. “I am exactly where I want to be. With exactly the man I want to be with.”

Her words take me by surprise and I look at her for a long moment. Is she for real? I thread my fingers in her hair and bring her lips to mine, kissing her deeply. We’re both slightly breathless when I pull away, looking into her eyes. Gently, I move a strand of her beautiful hair from her eyes and tuck it behind her ear.

“Obviously, Miss Colby, you have some residual brain damage from your recent assault,” I say, wrapping my arms around her again and pulling her close. She blinks at my words and then giggles at me. God, I love that sound! And I can’t help but smile at her. She wraps her arms around my shoulders then, and we embrace for a long time. I take a deep breath as I hold her and I feel my entire body relax for the first time since the photo album was opened today.

“We should go back inside,” I say quietly, nuzzling her hair and finally pulling away. “Say our goodbyes to everyone.” Samantha nods and I stand, taking her by the hand as I turn toward the back door. As I do, I see the sheer curtain in the window move and I know that Mom has been watching us.

As we head back into the kitchen, I see that we’re not the only ones preparing to leave. Paul Jr. and Pam are gathering up the baby’s things as Aunt Celeste stands by. When she spots Sam and me, she rushes over.

“Josh, I want to apologize for my outburst earlier. I should have kept my big mouth shut,” she says, looking contrite.

“It’s all right, Aunt Celeste,” I say as I lightly kiss her cheek. “Don’t worry about it.” She smiles meekly at me and squeezes my arm, and I usher Samantha further into the kitchen.

“Everything okay?” Mom asks quietly, looking from me to Sam. I know she’s worried that the whole photo album incident may have caused some problem between us. Frankly, I don’t blame her for worrying; I, for one, am pretty shocked that Samantha’s still here.

“Yeah, everything’s good, Mom,” I tell her with a small smile as I release Sam’s hand and wrap my arm around her waist.

“Thank you both so much for dinner,” Sam says to Mom and Aunt Celeste. “It was absolutely delicious and I had such a good time meeting all of you.”

“Oh, we enjoyed meeting you too, sweetie,” Mom says, taking her hand. “And please come back, anytime; we would love to have you!” She gives Sam a friendly hug and I find myself grinning stupidly.

We say our goodbyes to Paul Jr. and Pam and, as we’re preparing to go, Mom suddenly takes me by the arm.

“Samantha, honey … would you mind if I stole Josh away for just a couple of minutes?” Her voice sounds odd to me, and more than a little nervous. “I promise, we won’t be long.”

“What is it, Mom?”

“I just need to talk to you for a moment, honey.”

I frown as I turn back to Sam. “I’ll just be a minute, baby,” I mumble.

“Don’t worry, honey. Uncle Paul and I will entertain her ’til you get back,” Aunt Celeste says, shooing me away, and Sam smiles.

I follow Mom to her bedroom, wondering the whole time what in world she’s up to. Is this where she tells me that she thinks Samantha is all wrong for me?

She closes the door behind us once we enter her bedroom and I watch, in curious silence as she goes to her closet and reaches for something on the top shelf. She pulls out a small metal lock box and then finds the key in the top of her burrow drawer.

“Mom, what are you doing?” I ask, the suspense getting the best of me.

“Something I honestly never thought I’d have the opportunity to do until today,” she says cryptically. She opens the lock box and pulls out a small black velvet pouch and holds it in her hands for a second before she looks up at me. Walking over to me, she takes my right hand and places the velvet pouch in my palm.

“What is this?” I know the look on my face must be one of complete and total puzzlement.

“It’s yours,” she says simply, offering no other explanation.

Slowly, I open the small pouch and turn it upside down. And I am startled when its contents fall into my hand. My puzzled expression gives way to recognition and disbelief and my gaze flies to Mom’s eyes.

“Mom! This is Grandma Mona’s ring,” I say, astonished. “Why are you giving this to me?”

“Like I said, Josh. That ring is yours.” Her voice is steady and small as she looks me in the eye. “Grandma Mona always intended for you to have it. She put it in her will. In fact, it was the only thing in her will because it was the only thing of value that she ever owned.”

I stare at her in disbelief and then look back down at the sizable diamond in my hand. The love story behind this ring is practically a legend in my family. A testament to the only good relationship I ever saw when I was a child. I look back up at my mom and swallow anxiously.

“Grandma Mona wanted me to have this?”

Mom nods slowly, a small smile on her face. “You know you were always her favorite. She put it in her will, and before she died, she made me promise that I would hold on to it for you and give it to you when you found the girl you wanted to spend the rest of your life with.”

I’m shocked at her words and my heart is pounding. “So why are you giving this to me now?” Does my voice sound as panicked as I feel?

“I think you know the answer to that, honey,” she says softly. “I could see it all over your face this afternoon when you came here to tell me that you had invited Samantha to dinner. And watching the two of you together today … the way you look at each other. The way you move together. A blind man could see what you two are feeling for one another.” She hesitates, studying my startled expression. “Well, it’s obvious me, even if it isn’t so obvious to you yet.”

“Mom I don’t…”

“This ring is yours, Josh,” she says, closing my fingers around the diamond in my hand. “To do with as you wish. Mama wanted you to have it. I held on to it for you like I promised her I would. Now, it’s yours.”

She turns back to the lock box, closing it and putting it and the key away in their respective hiding places and leaving me standing … reeling … in the middle of her bedroom. She walks to the door and looks back at me. Then she opens the door and exits.

I open my hand and examine the ring again. I haven’t seen this ring since Grandma Mona died when I was about eighteen. But, it’s every bit as pretty as I remember: a three carat, pear shaped center stone with another carat’s worth of smaller diamonds around it and on the sides of the band. Four carats total, set in white gold. As I gaze at it, a memory suddenly bombards my brain. A six year old me, sitting on my grandma’s lap in her living room, peanut butter cookie in one hand as I played with this ring as it sat on her finger, with the other…

~~~~~~~~

“You like that ring don’t you, Joshie?” grandma says, and I nod my head and take a bite of my cookie. I do like it. It’s shiny and pretty. Pretty like grandma. Pretty like mommy when she’s happy. When he’s not hitting her.

“I’m going to give you that pretty ring someday, Joshie. And you can give it to the girl you marry.”

“Can I marwy you, gwanma?” Grandma laughs at me and I laugh too. I like it that she thinks I’m funny.

“No, you can’t marry grandma, Josh. Grandma’s already married to Grandpa Dominic. But you’ll find your own girl to marry one day. And she will be beautiful and she will love you so much!” She squeezes me and kisses my head.

“Will she make peena budder cookies like you?”

“Oh, I’m sure she will, Joshie,” grandma chuckles at me and I take another bite of cookie.

~~~~~~~~

I haven’t thought of that conversation in years! And as I stand reliving it, I feel like I’m dreaming. Like I’m not really in my body but, somewhere else, watching the action play out. Why would Mom give this ring to me now? What kind of point is she trying to make?
Is it really such a mystery, Pierce?
I swallow anxiously as I think about the answer to that one. I shake my head as if to rid it of the errant thoughts running rampant up there and quickly place the ring back into the small velvet pouch. Stuffing the pouch into the pocket of my jeans, I turn and head out of the bedroom and back down the hall, toward the living room to Samantha.

Chapter Eight

Samantha

My eyes flicker open and then squint from the sunlight. What time is it? The light coming through my bedroom balcony doors is so bright. Another sunny, rain-free September morning in Seattle. And according to the forecast I saw last night, the great weather is expected to last into the weekend. I hope the weathermen are right, for Megan’s sake. A rainy wedding day wouldn’t do, I suppose.

I let out a contented sigh and snuggle closer to Josh. He’s still sleeping, which is unlike him. Usually, I wake to find him watching me sleep. But I guess I can understand it; he had sort of a difficult time yesterday. When the truth finally came out about his dad being abusive he was really upset. And I know that he was extremely nervous about me finding out. I still don’t fully understand that part. Why would he be so certain that I would end our relationship once I knew about his dad? It makes no sense.

Except that it does. From his point of view anyway. I know that, in Josh’s mind, he believes that he’s destined to follow the same path. All because he looks very much like his dad and he shares the same quick temper. But what he doesn’t seem to be taking into account is the fact that he and his father are two very different people with two very different life experiences. Yes, watching his father hurt and humiliate his mother helped shape Josh into the man that he is today. But so did his affection for the police officers who would come to his rescue back then, and the love and attention that Olivia showered him with as a little boy. And there’s no way of knowing what sort of influences Danny Pierce had in his early life that shaped him into the monster he became. There are so many variables that Josh isn’t even considering, and I know it’s because he’s simply too traumatized by it all. And I wonder if that’s why he was in therapy after his dad died.