"They were good boys," Marcy says, putting a positive spin on our childhood.
Ford is sitting next to Shay when Marcy makes this declaration. He stops looking at his woman long enough to roll his eyes and grin at me on the other end of the table. Even sharing his smile, I'm a live wire of tension now.
For most of the dinner, Marcy talks to the kids. She can't really share honest stories about Ford and me growing up. So she plays grandma by asking a ton of questions. She smiles a lot, like hearing about schoolwork and toys is her idea of great conversation.
While Donnie tells a story about his science project, Bebe uses the restroom. She returns a few minutes later and stands behind me, massaging my shoulders. The move makes Ford glare at me like maybe I have the better woman. Okay, maybe he's not that far into jealousy. He does think Bebe is showing off. My chick makes me feel great and awful at the same time.
I can't handle the pressure of all the family crap while waiting for the killing to begin. Will I send Bebe and Lula out of town? What if I die and Wolfman comes looking for them?
Months ago, I only really cared about my brother. Now I'm worrying about my allies in the club. Their families too. More than anything, I have this woman giving me a massage and the little girl who smiles whenever I look in her direction. These people love me and expect me to take care of them.
This new life's demands are all too fucking much. Even keeping myself under control for now, I know the stress will either eat me up or send me over the fucking edge. I'm not looking forward to either possibility.
24
Bebe
Rage Monster
Pax stalks through the living room before heading downstairs. He's clearly on edge, but I don't ask why. I figure if he wants to talk, he'll talk. Pax never holds back. When he's happy, the world knows. When he's pissed, the world trembles. I learn this last fact again the hard way.
Lula and I are finishing lunch when Pax disappears downstairs. Suddenly returning to the kitchen, Pax opens cabinets and looks inside before slamming them shut. Every time a door slams, Lula flinches. At first, she seems confused, but her fear grows. I don't blame her. Pax is scaring me too.
"This shit isn't going to work," he says, leaning against the counter. "I felt sorry for you and had you move in, but I fucked up. I can't have you here."
Lula glances back at her room then begins to cry.
"See?" Pax demands. "What the fuck am I doing with a kid in my house? There are toys everywhere, and she's always crying. I can't watch any of my fucking shows because her kid bullshit is always on."
Picking up a crying Lula, I flee to the living room, but Pax follows.
"Are you listening to me?"
"Yes."
"I'll help you move back to Darby's today."
Cradling my crying baby, I say nothing. The words he's saying sound like lies. The rage on his face is all wrong. This isn't the man I know. He's a stranger now. No, more like a monster. He's no different than Wolfman playing with our feelings because he can. I can't believe I love such a man.
"Are you listening?" he demands again, yelling so loud that Folgers growls.
The dog isn't sure who to growl at, so he makes aggressive moves in a circle just to be safe. I'd find his behavior funny, if Pax wasn't standing over me like a psycho.
"I heard you. We'll pack up."
Carrying Lula past him, I hurry down the hall to her bedroom. She sobs against me. Her little heart is broken by his lies and rage. I sit her on the bed and look around the room. My eyes blurring from the hot tears, I see the pink walls and the sparkly letters spelling out Tallulah. Pax hung them up just yesterday. Now he wants us gone.
No fucking way!
"Lula, stay here and keep the door closed. I'm going to talk to Pax."
My brokenhearted daughter whimpers and reaches for me. She wipes the tears on my cheeks and begs me not to face off with the rage monster in the next room.
Turning on the TV, I hand Lula the Hello Kitty doll Darby bought her when we first moved into her house.
"I'll be right back," I promise then kiss her head and leave the room.
The door shut behind me, I'm lost in a daze of fear, anger, and sadness. What is there to say to Pax? Can he be reasoned with? Should I beg? I have no plan when I find him in the kitchen.
Both sulking, Pax and Folgers stare at one another. The man I love and hate glances at me when I approach. He's ready to say something mean, but I beat him to it.
My hand burns the moment it makes contact with his cheek.
"Fuck you!" I yell.
Pax opens his mouth to say something, but I slap him again.