Bittersweet (Redemption Book 3) Read online

  His features twisted into a look of apprehension as he lowered his voice. “Yeah. I got them just in case . . . You know, if you ever decided to let Brant stay the night with me.”

  I didn’t want to be moved by that admission, but damn it, I was. “You got him bunk beds just in case?”

  Those gray eyes lightened just a bit. “I wanted him to have his own space.”

  Oh hell. Why did that feel so damn good?

  “And I want you to know, I haven’t been in a fight in years, Shane. I’m not that guy anymore, I swear.”

  I wasn’t sure I believed that. I wanted to, but I couldn’t bring myself to trust it.

  At my silence, his lips parted to add more, but before he could get the words out, the sound of the screen door creaking open shot through the living room. I barely managed to stumble to my feet and take a step to the side to put some space between us before the front door burst open, and my little tornado came barreling in, a ball of hyper energy. “Hey, Mommy! Guess what I got at the—?”

  Brantley skidded to a stop just past the threshold, his wide, excited eyes on Jensen. “For Pete’s sake, child,” Caroline spoke from behind him, “I nearly ran you over. What in the world . . .” Her words died off when she saw what made Brant freeze in place. My aunt looked up with concern and shock swimming in her eyes as they bounced between me and Jensen.

  Finally, a second later, Brant snapped out of his trance-like state. “Daddy!” my boy screeched before racing across the living room and launching himself into his father’s arms.

  I watched with an ache building in my chest as Jensen scooped him up and rose to his feet, giving my kid a playful spin that made him giggle like crazy. That ache only intensified as Jensen clutched Brantley close and squeezed his eyes closed tight, inhaling deeply like he was trying to pull my boy’s scent into his lungs to keep forever. The expression on his face—one of pain and happiness—was one I’d never seen before. And the effect it had on me, seeing that love he had for my son radiating from every pore, made it nearly impossible to breathe.

  “Hey, bud,” he said in a husky voice. “Missed you like crazy.”

  Brantley began to squirm, giving his dad no choice but to put him back on his feet. “I missed you too! Did you come over to see my new bike? It’s so cool!”

  “Oh, uh . . .”

  At his hesitation, Brantley’s face began to fall. Unable to stand the thought of my sweet kiddo being disappointed, I found myself speaking up before I could think twice. “Yeah, kid. That’s exactly why your daddy’s here. He wanted to see your new super cool bike for himself.”

  Brantley threw his little fist in the air. “Awesome! And you can talk to Momma about taking my trainin’ wheels off. Trainin’ wheels are for little babies, and I’m big. Someday I’m gonna be as big as you, right, Dad?”

  Jensen looked to me to gauge my reaction before chancing a response, and I quickly put him out of his misery. “How about we leave that discussion for a another day, and right now you just go spend some time with your dad?”

  He didn’t have to be told twice. Grabbing his father’s hand, he began yanking him toward the front door, and I watched, ignoring the way my chest warmed as Jensen’s mini-me dragged him away.

  Chapter Eight

  Shane

  My aunt’s head whipped around in my direction as soon as the door closed behind them, her eyes wide with shock. “You wanna tell me what’s going on? ’Cause I get the feeling Brant and I just walked into something extreme.”

  “It’s not a big deal,” I lied as I spun around and started for the kitchen.

  I could hear her feet pattering after me, speed walking to keep up. “Not a big deal my behind. I felt the energy in that room crackle the moment I came through the door.”

  Normally I took my aunt’s eccentric ways with a grain of salt. She’d claimed to “read” energies and auras for as long as I could remember. Her and Scoot’s house always smelled from the sage she burned regularly, and she pulled out her tarot cards after every family dinner. Meditation was her answer for almost everything, from stress to the flu, if you just meditated, you’d be fine. And she was constantly trying to get us to “aligning our chakras”, whatever the hell that meant. I usually didn’t buy into any of it, but it was times like this when her insightfulness annoyed the hell out of me.

  Keeping my back to her—because I knew she’d read me like a book if she saw my face—I moved to the fridge and started pulling out everything I needed to make dinner. “Then your senses must be off, because there’s nothing going on.”

  “Honey pie, you know good and well I’m never wrong about these things. And oof.” She moved around the counter, coming closer to me so she could pick at of the air above my head. “You’re aura’s all hazy and dirty.”

  I batted at her hands, giving her an unhappy look. “Will you stop trying to clean my aura, please? I said I’m fine.”

  She lifted her hands in surrender, but she did it with that look all parents got when they knew their kid was full of shit. “Fine, fine. If you say so.”

  “I do say so,” I declared, grabbing a hunk of hamburger meat and working it into a patty. “I’m fine. It’s fine. Everything’s totally fine.”

  “You sure about that?” she hesitantly asked seconds later.

  “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you’re beating the hell out of that hamburger meat like it made fun of your momma and owes you money.”

  I looked back down to the patty in my hand to see that I’d flattened it into a useless, paper-thin disk of raw meat. Dropping it onto the counter, I braced my hands on the chipped Formica top and hung my head. “Damn it.”

  “Wanna try again?” Caroline prompted.

  “He bought bunk beds,” I stated, lifting my head to meet her gaze. “Bunk beds, Caro.”

  Her expression grew befuddled. “Who bought bunk beds?”

  “Jensen!” I cried. “Keep up, will you?”

  “O-kay,” she dragged out, looking at me like I belonged in a straitjacket and padded room. “So he got bunk beds. Big deal. I mean, I didn’t think grown men his age still slept in those, and no way I’d willingly sleep on the bottom one beneath him—that’s just asking to be squished to death when the top bunk inevitably snaps under his weight—but to each his own I always say.”

  “Ugh, no! Not for him. He bought them for Brant on the off chance I let him start having overnight visits. So that he’d have his own space if that day ever comes.”

  “Ohhh. Okay, now I’m following. That’s actually kind of sweet. And really thoughtful.”

  “I know!” I exclaimed, throwing my arms out.

  The confusion returned to her face. “Why do you make it sound like that’s a bad thing?”

  “Because it is! I don’t want him to be sweet or thoughtful. Sweet and thoughtful are bad.”

  “Because they make you like him just a little bit.”

  “Yes!” Realizing she caught me in her trap, I continued, “Wait—no. No. That’s not what I meant. I don’t like him.”

  “Shane, honey,” she said, reaching out to place her hand on top of mine, “take a deep breath.” I did as she gently ordered, inhaling deeply and holding it in my lungs for a second before slowly blowing it back out. “There. That’s it. Feel better now?” I didn’t, not really, but I nodded my head anyway. “Good, now tell me what’s really going on right now. And take your time, don’t try to rush or say what you think I want to hear. Give it to me straight.”

  I pulled in another breath and counted to five, trying to calm my frazzled nerves before laying it out as best as I could. “Honestly, Aunt Caro, I’m not really sure how I feel. I mean, I really like that he did that for my kid, but I don’t want to like it, if that makes sense. I want Brantley to have everything he deserves. All I’ve ever wanted is for him to be happy. On one hand, I’m grateful he and Jensen seem to be so close, but on the other, I hate it, and that makes me feel lik
e a terrible person.”

  She studied me earnestly before asking, “And why do you think you hate it?”

  “Because I’m terrified he’s gonna get hurt like I did. That Jensen’s going to let him down too, and I can’t stand the thought of that happening. But also . . .” I trailed off, casting my gaze back to the counter. “It’s because I’m jealous,” I admitted sheepishly. “It’s been just the two of us for so long. Now Jensen’s here and I see how much Brantley loves him, and there’s this part of me that can’t stand it because I want to be his favorite. I want to be all he needs. And I feel like this—this . . . giant asshole has just swooped in and stolen that from me. How selfish is that?”

  “It’s not selfish.”

  My head shot up at her declaration. “How can you say that?”

  She gave me the same smile that had worked to ease my pain for most of my life. “Because it’s true. Those feelings are completely natural. You don’t think there were times when you were growin’ up that I didn’t feel the exact same way about your momma?”

  My body rocked back in astonishment. “Are you serious? Why in the world would you ever be jealous of that woman?”

  “Because of how much you loved her,” she answered plainly. “Because she was a selfish, self-centered worthless waste of a human being who left behind her two beautiful children, and no matter how hard I tried, no matter that Scoot and I thought of you as ours, she was still your mom. I wasn’t able to fill that role for you, and it sometimes made me jealous.”

  I turned my hand over under hers so we were palm to palm. “God, Caro. I’m so sorry I ever made you feel that way. You know that’s not the case, right? You have always been so much more of a mother to me than she ever was, and I love you with everything I am because of that.”

  Her fingers gave mine a squeeze. “I know that, honey, and it wasn’t you who made me feel like that. It was my own insecurities. We’ve all got them. I’m not sayin’ what I occasionally felt was rational, and it never made me feel any different for you. I never held an ounce of resentment, just like you’ll never feel that way with your baby. My point is, you’re human. We aren’t perfect, Shane. We’re full of flaws. No person should ever be judged by their feelings. They should be judged by the actions they take in regard to those feelings. You’d die before you did anything that would hurt that boy, and that’s what makes you a good person. That’s what makes you selfless.”

  That burn behind my eyes was back, only this time it had nothing to do with anger. Pulling my hand from hers, I wrapped my arms around my aunt and hugged her tight. “You’re the best, you know that?”

  “Of course I do, honey pie,” she teased once we broke apart. “Now, about the bunk bed situation . . .”

  “Oh God,” I groaned dramatically. “Don’t start.”

  “I’m not sayin’ you have to dive right into the whole overnight thing right away, but maybe it’s time to consider a different approach to this whole visitation gig. Whether you like it or not, he’s here. You can’t pretend he doesn’t exist forever. Scooter will keep this charade up as long as you need, but you and that man out there are eventually gonna have to suck it up and start actin’ like adults. You two have this whole damn town walkin’ around on eggshells. We’re all sittin’ back, waiting for the explosion that’s bound to happen.”

  With one patty down, I started on the second, casting my aunt a stubborn glare. “You know, I really hate it when you’re all wise and levelheaded and stuff.”

  She gave me a smug grin. “Well one of us has to be. You can’t keep goin’ down this current path, darlin’. It’s a dead end straight into ugliness.”

  “Whatever,” I grumbled under my breath. Everything she’d said resonated, but I wasn’t willing to give her credit just yet. “I’ll think about it.”

  “All I can ask,” she said with a self-satisfied grin before giving me a smacking kiss on the cheek. “And would you look at that? Your aura’s already looking brighter.”

  Jensen

  This was the first visit I’d had with my boy where I didn’t have Shane’s uncle watching over my every single thing I did with murder in his eyes the entire time, and it was the most fun I’d ever had with him. I’d take time with Brantley however I could get it, but there was something to be said for not having to watch your every move for fear of being shot or stabbed.

  Don’t get me wrong, Scooter wasn’t a bad guy. But when it came to protecting the people he loved, he wouldn’t hesitate to get his hands dirty, and I had no doubt if I stepped out of line with Shane, they’d never be able to find my body.

  “Dad!” Brant yelled as he raced across the driveway on his neon green and black bicycle, complete with training wheels. His matching helmet bobbed as he turned his head in my direction to make sure I was watching. “Check out this super cool trick I can do!”

  “Show me what you’ve got, buddy.”

  He hit the end of the driveway and circled back around, pumping his little legs as fast as they could go. Once he got in front of me, he gave a little hop, jerking on the handlebars like he was trying to do a wheelie, only the front tire never left the ground. “Did you see? Did you see?”

  I smiled big, my chest feeling tight as I stared after him. “Sure did, kiddo. It was awesome!” That wasn’t me lying or patronizing, that was the God’s honest truth, because there wasn’t a damn thing on this planet that my boy did that didn’t leave me mesmerized.

  In all the years I’d been away, I’d missed my son—the tiny little creature I’d helped create but had never officially met—like I was missing a limb. There was a hole in the center of my chest I could never fill because it had been dug out with the sole purpose of holding all my memories of him.

  I thought I knew what it meant to love someone unconditionally. Truth was, I hadn’t really understood until the first time I laid eyes on him. All those feelings, all those emotions swelled and grew until I wasn’t sure I had room inside of me to contain them all. If his mother was the love of my life—and I didn’t have a single doubt she was—he was my reason for existing. Protecting him, being his dad, it was the most important job I could ever have.

  The loud, obnoxious creak of Shane’s screen door opening pulled my attention back to the house. From the many passes I’d made shortly after returning, I’d known it was small, but today was the first time I’d been inside, and I hadn’t been prepared for what I’d find. It was clear that Shane took care of the place. She decorated it to give it warmth, to make it feel like a home, but there was no hiding its age and the damage that came with that.

  Now, more than ever, I questioned why she lived the way she did when she had better options. I might have done the worst thing I could possibly do by walking away, but I’d made damn sure she had those options first. Those questions plagued me worse than they had before, but after what had happened inside, I knew pushing her for answers would just lead to her building up those walls so they’d be even higher than they already were.

  Blinking away those thoughts, I watched as Caroline descended the rickety stairs on the postage-stamp-sized front porch. For the most part, the woman was just as I remembered her. She wore a long, flowing skirt in multiple colors and patterns, and her burnt-orange tee had a faded Harley logo on it. Her wrists and neck were covered in rows of random bracelets and necklaces that jingled when she walked, and on her feet, beneath the skirt that nearly reached the ground, were a pair of worn, scuffed biker boots. Her dark brown hair—now streaked with silver—was styled the way she’d always worn it, long and wild, held back by a fringed scarf she used as a headband, the ends tangling with the loose locks. None of it should have worked together, but it all did. She was mostly hippy, sprinkled liberally with the biker chick that matched her hulking, intimidating husband.

  The biker babe in Caroline had rubbed off on her niece, but none of the hippy. For the most part, Shane had always lived in tight, well-worn jeans or cut-off denim shorts, tanks, and T-shirts that always showed her
incredible figure. The only times she’d traded out her boots was when she decided to go more casual, usually with flipflops or Converse tennis shoes.

  My girl had always been low maintenance with things like hair and makeup, keeping it to the bare minimum, which worked for me in a very big way, seeing as she didn’t need any of that shit to be beautiful.

  Caroline’s eyes were pointed toward Brantley as she said, “All right, peanut. I’m headin’ out. Come give your Aunt Caro a hug.”

  Brant jumped off and rushed to her, giving her hips a squeeze before skipping back to his bike.

  She looked to me, the smile on her face falling, but I took it in stride, knowing I’d earned the hatred of not just Shane, but also her family. I tilted my chin in her direction in a silent goodbye, expecting her to move past me, but she surprised me by coming to a stop at my side.

  Keeping her eyes forward, she spoke quietly enough that Brantley couldn’t hear, and what she said shocked the hell out of me at the same time it gave me hope.

  “I’m rootin’ for you. Jury’s still out on whether or not that’s a smart call, but I’m doin’ it anyway ’cause I think it’s what’s best for her.” I slowly turned my head to look at her to find her attention was already on me. “This is your last chance. You screw this up, there’s no comin’ back. You understand me?”

  Unable to form words since her declaration had stunned me speechless, I nodded.

  “Good. ’Cause my girl in there can’t take a lick more disappointment. Don’t prove me wrong for havin’ faith in you, Jensen. You hurt her again, I’ll dispose of your body in a way there’ll be nothin’ left to find, but I’ll get very creative before that. You get what I’m sayin’?”

  “Loud and clear,” I replied, fighting back the smile straining against my lips. “You’ve got my word.”

  She narrowed her eyes and let out a harrumph before declaring, “Damn well better.” She gave me a long look from top to toe, studying me in a way that made me feel like she was seeing something that wasn’t even there, saying, “You should really try meditating. Your chakras are all backed up.” Then, without another word, she moved to the older model Caddy parked behind my bike, started her up, and backed out of the driveway.