“Now there’s something sinister seeping from the walls. I’m starting to think danger lives in Kingwood Manor.”
My firefly was too smart for her own good. “So you don’t want to live here one day?” I ask, smiling, thrilled the shine has finally worn off. Now she can see things for how they really are. I need to know she’s staying for the right reasons.
She starts down the stairs. “I don’t need all this.” As much as I like her flexing her newfound strength, I like being able to protect her too. I want her strong, but I also want her to need me.
My smile grows. One thing I know about Sara Jane Grayson is that I can offer her the world and she’d only want an acre. One of the many reasons I love her. My smile is wiped away when I hear, “It’s late to be sneaking around, don’t you think, son?”
We both stop a few steps from the bottom and turn toward the living room where the monster himself sits, a tiger baiting his prey.
I take Sara Jane’s hand and reply, “If it was broad daylight, I wouldn’t need to sneak.”
“You’re twenty-two. Sneaking out is for children. You know you can come and go as you please.” His eyes are set on Sara Jane. “I was disappointed you left the party so early.”
She glances to me then back to him, questions in her irises. “I was tired.”
My father looks dissatisfied with her response. Turning his attention back to me, he says, “There were people I wanted you to meet—”
“I brought you Scotch on the rocks, just how you like it.” A woman stops short when she sees us. The lights are dim, but I can tell who it is. She stands between my father and me, and says, “Alex?”
Snapping his fingers, he brings her eyes back to him. “You should go, Carinna.”
Sara Jane’s hand tightens around mine. It’s obvious she recognizes her too. The woman I was talking business with during the party sets a glass down on an antique table next to him. I know he won’t be able to leave it there for long. He reaches for it and says, “Thanks for the drink, sweetheart . . . and the company,” effectively dismissing her.
“You want me to leave at three a.m.?” I’m not surprised she’s insulted.
Sara Jane looks up at me, waiting for me to make the first move. I move down two steps until we’re even and then we walk the rest of the way down together. “Good night, Father. Carinna.”
Behind our backs, Carinna says, “We just had sex, and now you’re kicking me out?”
“It was good. It wasn’t good enough for me to want you to stay.”
I whisk Sara Jane out the front door not wanting her to hear how my father treats the people in his life. I’m not willing to risk her realizing what I’m made of, although from the interactions she has had with him, I think she already knows. Taking her to the garage, I input the code and the sixth garage door rolls open. We stand there side by side in silence. Then she takes a step forward and a few more until she’s standing in front of my newest purchase—a base Harley-Davidson Iron 883 with custom everything. Down to my name, King, embossed into the leather seat. Whipping around to me, she asks, “Is this yours?”
Nodding, I hope she doesn’t kick my ass for not telling her sooner.
She touches the matte black chrome and leather seat, then takes a step back. Closing her eyes, she rubs her temples. When she reopens them, she asks, “I thought the bike was a phase?”
“No.” I keep it simple.
“It looks new.”
“My old bike was run-down, so I replaced it.”
“It looks expensive. This will make you a target for thieves, which doesn’t thrill me, Alexander.”
She thinks riding a motorcycle is risking my life on the regular. We agree to disagree on this, or so I thought, but now she’s throwing in the robbery card. “It was custom-made for me. I couldn’t have designed a better bike.”
Her hand goes to her hip. “I couldn’t have designed a better bike. Alexander, do you hear yourself?” Her sass is bordering between cute and annoyance.
“You think you’re invincible, but you’re not. I don’t want to lose you.”
“You’ll never lose me unless you leave. Although, you’re too damn stubborn to take good advice when it’s given.”
The fight leaves her voice, and she moves closer to the bike. “Have you hidden this from me not feeling you could tell me?” Yes, but I can’t tell her that. My firefly always worries about me, my safety. Why would I give her more to worry about?
“I’m trying, Sara Jane.”
She sighs and walks the length of the bike, inspecting it. When she looks up, she asks, “Are we going?”
There’s my feisty little woman. I go to the cabinet, flip my keys from my pocket, and open it. When I turn to her, I present the special helmet I had made for her, approaching with care. She never liked riding a motorcycle, so we always took her car. This time, she doesn’t protest. I slide the shiny black helmet down over her head, and snap the band under her chin. I kiss her nose and then adjust the bike up, lift the kickstand, swing my leg over, and settle on to the saddle. “Hop on.” She does, and readjusts until she’s comfortable and flush against me. Her arms come around my middle. “Hold on tight, okay?”
“Okay.” She leans her cheek against my back and asks, “You still refuse to wear a helmet?”
“I don’t need one.”
“But I do?”
“Yes. I won’t risk your life on a thrill.”
“What about you?”
“I need you to stop worrying about me.”
“That’s not going to happen.” Her response comes quick and definitive, making me smile.
“Hang on tight, Firefly.” I start the bike.
“I’ve been doing that since the day we met.” Despite the rumbling of the loud exhaust, she’s not scared. Her body is relaxed around me, and I cover her hand with mine.
Moving my hands to the handlebars, I wrap my fingers around them firmly, and then take off down the driveway. The gate at the bottom of the property opens wide for us, and we’re off into the night.
Sometimes trust comes in ways that aren’t earned. There’s no reason for Sara Jane to be with me right now. There’s no justification for all the secrets and lies I’ve told her over the years that explains why she shouldn’t dump my ass for good. But something inside me knew she was meant to be mine, something so innately good in her to take the chance. I have no doubt that my mother played a part in putting Sara Jane in my path that day. She has loved me since, without limits, without expectations except to be loved in return. Her forgiving heart allows me to work toward forgiving myself.
When I park a short time later, she sits up, and looks around. Let’s just hope once she sees what’s really going on, she can hold on to that forgiveness.
13
Sara Jane
Holy Shit!
“I can explain,” Alexander says. He’s smart to keep a safe distance behind me.