Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 134057 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 670(@200wpm)___ 536(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134057 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 670(@200wpm)___ 536(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
Caroline sewed up the tears in the moment artfully. “I’ll make us some tea,” she said, closing the door. “And pour us some scotch.”
His father let out a sound that was between a chuckle and a sob. “Better make mine a double, sweetheart.”
She smiled at him through glassy eyes. Moved forward to squeeze Jagger’s hand for less than a second. He loved her more than anything in that moment. The simple hand squeeze, the smile, her calm.
She was the glue for the rest of the afternoon. While he explained a very condensed version of the past fourteen years. Leaving out the parts he was most ashamed of. Though, that was hard, since he was ashamed of the entirety of it.
The reasons that had seemed so concrete at the time turned to dust as he sat at the kitchen table, surrounded by memories, in front of two people that raised him. Two good people.
They only took what he was willing to give them, didn’t ask questions. His mother held his hand the entire time, as if she were afraid he might turn to dust if she let go. He felt a bit like that.
At some point during the afternoon, the door slammed.
“I’m home!” Antonia called. “I know I said I was going to pick up the chicken for tonight. But I forgot. And Mom, before you—”
Antonia cut off as she entered the dining room. Jagger stood.
Fuck. While the years had only slightly touched his parents around the edges, graying his father, softening his mother, they had completely changed Antonia. He left her when she was a troublesome teenager who got on his nerves for always hogging the bathroom and playing bad music.
She was a woman now.
And she was staring at him with none of the mixture of joy and pain his father and mother had.
This was straight up anger.
“What. The. Fuck,” she hissed.
He stepped forward. “Toni.”
She moved forward. Fast. And slapped him. He didn’t flinch. She slapped him again. He let her. And when it became apparent she was going to keep hitting him, he snatched her wrists. She struggled, choking on tears. He yanked her into his chest, fighting tears of his own. And eventually she calmed.
He let her go, she looked him up and down with a hard gaze.
It became apparent she was not going to accept the explanation like his parents.
“Toni,” Caroline said, moving past him and grabbing her hand. Antonia took it like it was a life raft. “How about we go for a walk?” Caroline asked, brushing hair from her face.
She nodded.
Caroline gave him a look before leading his sister out.
He had no idea what Caroline said to her on that walk. He just knew they were gone for an hour and when they came back, Antonia’s eyes were red and puffy, and so were Caroline’s, but she ran to hug him. He squeezed his sister. “You’ve turned into a beautiful woman,” he whispered against her hair.
“Well, one of us had to be the pretty one,” she joked. “Because it’s not gonna be you.”
His family laughed.
And there, somewhere, he realized it was going to work out. Not perfectly. Or happily. But somehow it would work out.
Caroline’s family was different. Her mother didn’t have much of a dramatic reaction. She was a staunch and kind woman, and he was scared to death of her. She stared at him a long time after they walked through the front door hand in hand. “I’m going to make us something to eat,” she said finally, her voice shaking slightly. “You look like you need a good meal.” She moved forward. “You look like you need a good meal. And a break from the day I’m guessing you’ve had. The fifteen years you’ve had.”
He struggled to contain his tears. “Yeah,” he agreed.
Caroline’s father took one look at him and stormed out of the room. Caroline went to follow him. He kissed her hand. “I’ve got it, Peaches.”
She chewed her lip. “Well, I don’t think he had any firearms in the back garden.”
He laughed. “If I haven’t been shot yet, I think we’re good.”
Though he wasn’t as sure as he sounded.
Trevor loved his daughters fiercely. He would shoot anyone who hurt them, and he’d happily go to prison for that. Jagger idly wondered how he’d handled what Caroline had been through, not being able to end the fucker who stopped her from being able to have a fucking shower without breaking down.
He was pacing amongst the dozens of flowers that made up the garden.
When he spotted Jagger, he stopped pacing. “You broke a promise to me,” he accused. “I’m sure you’ve got reasons, by the look of you, they’re fuckin’ good ones, and that’s the only reason I came out here and not to my gun safe. That and the fact my daughter finally has something behind her eyes other than fake happiness and ghosts. But you broke your promise.”