Beautiful Redemption

A still scantily clad and shiny Trenton popped and locked, bumped and grinded to the music. Thomas and Jim shook their heads at the sight.

 

Camille was standing in front of the crowd surrounding Trenton, encouraging him and laughing uncontrollably. Irrational anger came over me. Ten minutes before, she had been draped over Thomas, lamenting over their breakup. I didn’t like her. I couldn’t imagine why not one but two Maddox men did.

 

When the song was over, Trenton walked over to Camille and lifted her in his arms, twirling her around in the air. When he lowered her to her feet, she crossed her arms at the back of Trenton’s neck and kissed him.

 

Another song boomed through the speakers, and the few other women present pulled their men onto the modest dance floor. Some of the men joined them, mostly just being silly.

 

Thomas remained sandwiched between his father and uncle, glancing at me only once in a while. He was angry with me, and he had every right to be. I was giving myself whiplash. I couldn’t imagine how he must be feeling.

 

There I stood, glaring at Camille every time she drew attention to herself, and I hadn’t treated Thomas much better. He wasn’t just playing a part. He’d expressed interest in me before we had left for the assignment. If anything, I was worse than Camille. At least she didn’t jerk around his heart, knowing she was already dealing with broken pieces.

 

The responsible thing to do would be to keep it professional. One day, I was going to have to choose between Thomas and the Bureau, and I would choose the job. But every time we were alone, every time he touched me, and what I’d felt when I saw him with Camille, I knew that my feelings had become too complex to ignore.

 

Val had told me to be straight with Thomas, but he wouldn’t accept it. My cheeks flushed. I was a strong and intelligent woman. I had broken down the problem, determined the solution, made a decision, and communicated that decision.

 

I sighed. Then, I’d yelled at him in front of nearly all of his friends and family. He’d looked at me as if I were crazy.

 

Am I?

 

He’d told me the picture was gone, but taking a picture off a table wouldn’t change feelings. Jim had said Camille was in Thomas’s past, and that was true. But I couldn’t reconcile that Thomas missed her or that he still loved her.

 

What I really needed was Thomas’s closure, and that solution was reliant on him. Closure wasn’t an unreasonable request, but it might be an impossible one. It wasn’t up to me. It was up to Thomas.

 

For the first time in my adult life, I had allowed myself to be involved in a situation that I couldn’t control or handle, and my stomach felt sick.

 

I glanced over at Thomas, and once again, I caught him looking at me. I finally walked over to him, and his shoulders relaxed.

 

I slipped my hands under his arms and curved them behind his back, pressing my cheek against his lower chest. “Thomas…”

 

He touched his lips to my hair. “Yes?”

 

Someone turned down the music, and Trenton walked over to Camille. He took both of her hands, pulling her to the center of the room. He knelt onto one knee and held up a small box.

 

Thomas pulled away from me and shoved his hands into his pockets, fidgeting for a second or two. Then, he leaned down to whisper in my ear, “I’m sorry.” He took a few steps backward and then quietly walked along the back wall, creeping behind the crowd, until he reached the exit.

 

After one last glance at Camille as she covered her mouth and nodded her head, Thomas pushed open the glass door just enough to slip outside.

 

Jim looked down and then over at me. “That would be tough for any man.”

 

Everyone cheered, and Trenton stood up to hug his new fiancée. The crowd closed in around them.

 

“Tough for you, too, I’d imagine,” Jim said again, gently patting me on the shoulder.

 

I swallowed hard and looked to the glass door. “We’ll see you at the house, Jim. It was so nice to meet you.” I hugged Thomas’s father and then hurried out to the parking lot.

 

My sweater did little to stave off the Midwest’s early spring temperatures. I wrapped the knitted fabric tighter around me and crossed my arms, walking along the sidewalk to the back of the hotel.

 

“Thomas?” I called.

 

A drunk man appeared from behind a beater Chevrolet that was older than I was. He wiped the vomit from his mouth and stumbled toward me.

 

“Whoeryou?” he asked, his words melded together.

 

I stopped and held out my hand. “I’m trying to get to my car. Please step aside.”

 

“Are you stayin’ ’ere, sweet thing?”

 

I raised an eyebrow. His beer gut and stained shirt didn’t scream catch, but he clearly didn’t see it that way.

 

“I’m Joe,” he said before burping. He smiled, his eyes half-closed.

 

“It’s nice to meet you, Joe. I can see you’ve had a lot to drink, so please don’t touch me. I just want to get to my vehicle.”

 

“Wishesyers?” he asked, turning toward the lot.

 

“That one.” I pointed in a vague direction, knowing it wouldn’t matter anyway.

 

“Wanna dance?” he asked, stumbling to whatever music was in his head.

 

“No, thank you.”

 

I sidestepped, but he caught my sweater in his fingers.

 

“Whereyuhgoin’ suhfast?”

 

I sighed. “I don’t want to hurt you. Please let go.”

 

He tugged on me once, and I gripped his fingers and pulled them back. He cried out in pain and then fell to his knees.

 

“Okay, okay!” he pleaded.

 

I let go of his hand. “The next time a woman tells you not to touch her, you listen. If you only remember one thing from tonight”—I poked his temple and pushed his head—“remember that.”

 

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, his breath puffing out in white wisps. Instead of attempting to get up, he got more comfortable on the ground.

 

I groaned. “You can’t sleep here, Joe. It’s cold. Get up, and go inside.”

 

He looked up at me with sad eyes. “I don’t ’member where m’room is.”

 

“Oh, shit. Joe! You’re not harassing this pretty lady, are ya?” Trenton said, taking off his coat. He draped it over Joe’s shoulders and then helped him to stand, bearing most of his weight.

 

“She tried to break my damn hand!” Joe said.

 

“You probably deserved it, you drunk fucker,” he said to Joe. He looked to me. “You all right?”

 

I nodded.

 

Joe’s knees gave way, and Trenton grunted as he tossed the large man over his shoulder.

 

“You’re Liis, right?”

 

I nodded again. I was extremely uncomfortable with speaking to Trenton although I wasn’t sure why.

 

“Dad said Thomas came out here. Is he okay?”

 

“What are you doing out here?” Thomas snapped. He wasn’t speaking to me but to his brother.

 

“I came to check on you,” Trenton said, shifting his weight.

 

“What the hell is going on out here?” Taylor said, staring at Joe hanging over Trenton’s shoulder. He sucked on his cigarette and exhaled, the thick smoke swirling into the air.

 

“She tried to break my damn hand!” Joe said.

 

Taylor chuckled. “Then, don’t put your hands on her, dumbass!”

 

Thomas looked down at me. “What happened?”

 

I shrugged. “He touched me.”

 

Taylor doubled over, his whole body trembling with roaring laughter.

 

Tyler appeared from behind Trenton and Taylor, lighting his own cigarette. “This looks like the real party!”

 

Taylor smiled. “Did Liis throw you down the first time you touched her, too?”

 

Thomas frowned. “Shut the fuck up, Taylor. We’re ready to go.”

 

Tyler’s eyebrows shot up, and he laughed once. “Tommy’s Asian beauty knows ca-rah-tay!” He chopped at the air a few times and then kicked forward.

 

Thomas took a step toward him, but I touched his chest.

 

Tyler took a step back and held up his hands, palms out. “Just kiddin’, Tommy. Fuck!”

 

All four of Thomas’s younger brothers looked very much alike, but it was unsettling how identical the twins were. They even had matching tattoos. Standing next to each other, I couldn’t tell who was who until Thomas said their names.

 

“Well, Joe here is a fat bastard,” Trenton said.

 

“Put me down!” Joe groaned.

 

Trenton hopped, readjusting Joe on his shoulder. “I’m going to take him to the lobby before he freezes to death.”

 

“You need help?” Thomas asked. “How’s the arm?”

 

“A little stiff,” Trenton said. He winked. “I barely notice when I’m drunk.”

 

“See you tomorrow,” Thomas said.

 

“Love you, bro,” Trenton said, turning for the entrance.

 

Thomas’s eyebrows pulled in, and he looked down.

 

I touched his arm. “We’re ready,” I said to Taylor.