Creed (Unfinished Hero 02)

She studied me then replied quietly, “I’m with you, Sylvie.”


I nodded then continued, “We got a job, you, me, Creed and your man, to be cool always for your kids. You probably know Creed had a revolving door of father figures and my stepmom was a loser. No kid deserves that and I never wanna do that to a kid, especially not kids that are Creed’s. So let’s find ways to figure that out so they don’t feel this and just know they have a lot of love centered around two great parents who want the best for them.”

I saw her eyes warm before she told me, “I think we can do that job.”

“I know we can,” I returned.

She held my gaze then nodded before saying, “I’m glad you feel that way, Sylvie, because that’s the way I was hoping it would be. Every, uh… ex-wife who’s a Mom always fears when her ex finds another woman and what that will bring. I’m pleased it brought you.”

I grinned again and stated, “You trapped him or not, babe, he got you pregnant so he did choose you so let’s just say Tucker Creed has good taste.”

She grinned back. “Yeah, let’s say that.” At my nod, she finished, “I should get going.”

“Later, Chelle.”

“’Bye, Sylvie.”

She turned to go but I stopped her by calling her name and she turned back. “Just out of curiosity and if it’s personal between you two, you don’t have to tell me but why do you call him Tucker?”

Her brows drew together and she said, “I was wondering why you called him Creed. Only people on the job call him Creed.”

Strange.

I decided, since he hadn’t shared, I wouldn’t so I just said, “Throw back from the old days.”

“Ah,” she mumbled but I got the sense she either didn’t get it or didn’t believe me but she let it go with a, “Well, see you, Sylvie.”

“Yeah. See you, Chelle.”

She took off.

I waited for a bit before I left the room to check out. I wasn’t going to tell Creed about Chelle’s visit. Not yet. I didn’t know what his response would be and I didn’t want to piss him off or upset him when he had his kids. There would be plenty of time to tell him and not ruin the last hours he’d have with them for two weeks.

Instead, I shook it off and took on Phoenix.

*

“She calls you Tucker.”

Creed and I were back in Denver, at my place, in the back room and I’d just told Creed about Chelle’s visit. I was sitting on the couch, Creed was standing at the window staring out, partaking of one of his rare cigarettes (he was trying to quit, he was also trying to talk me into doing the same) and blowing the smoke out the screen.

I waited until we were not on the go or in a public place to share about Chelle. Once I’d shared, he’d gone to his bag, grabbed his smokes, came back and lapsed into brooding silence, staring out the window.

I let him have some time and did this studying him.

It had been a long time since I’d seen this Creed.

Back in the day, we both knew our clandestine time together was precious so we made the most of it. It didn’t happen often but he had a lot on his mind back then, us taking off, what would become of his mother when we were gone, what would become of us. So he could go quiet, retreat into his head, think thoughts he didn’t want to share. I knew this because I asked him to share and he didn’t, no matter how I tried to break through. Eventually I learned that I didn’t need to try. He would sort out what he needed to sort out and come back to me.

Watching him, it struck me that it might make me a freak but I missed this and I suspected he hadn’t changed. He’d sort it out without me prying, let me in when it was his time and I just needed to roll with it. So I didn’t change how I dealt with it and let him have his time.

Though, considering I wasn’t a patient woman and sitting in a silent room stroking my cat and watching a man smoke and stare out the window, no matter how hot he was or how much I loved him, was kinda boring.

Therefore, I quit giving him time and mentioned his ex calling him Tucker.

He turned his head, his eyes coming to me then he turned his body, took two steps, bent low and stubbed his cigarette out in the ashtray on the coffee table.

When he straightened, eyes back to me, he answered, “No woman calls me Creed. Only men… and you.”

“Okay,” I replied, not getting it but also thinking his somber mood meant he wasn’t up to explaining it.

I was wrong because Creed kept talking.

“Tried to keep the name, found women calling me that reminded me that I’d never again hear you do it. It reminded me of that night in the woods when we were kids and I told you I was who I was going to be. It reminded me of how you were there for me. How you were always there for me and how I’d never have that again either. So I went back to Tucker. Men call me Creed ‘cause that’s what men do.”

I nodded then asked, “So Chelle doesn’t know you’re Creed?”

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