Kristen Ashley - Jagged

When I was done talking, Ham was no longer smiling. His arms were also no longer holding me. One had clinched tight. He brought his other hand to cup my cheek as his eyes went dark and bored into mine.

“Fuck, shit,” he whispered, his tone so jagged, if it wasn’t so beautiful, it would have shredded me.

His face, his voice, his eyes, his fierce hold, it all did a number on me, making my throat itch and my eyes sting.

But the moment was too beautiful to mess up by dissolving into tears.

So I said, “I just want you to know I understand that, but I need you to know how much I appreciate it.”

“Stop talking,” he ordered gruffly.

“Okay,” I whispered.

Ham’s eyes moved over my face as his thumb glided over my cheek. I let him do this for a bit before I dipped my chin and shoved my face in his throat.

“What you said about your ex-wife, those women,” I said softly there, “I get it. I get why you’d protect yourself from gettin’ hurt. Still sucks you had all this to give and no one to give it to. But that doesn’t mean I’m not grateful it got stored up over the years so you could give it all to me.”

“Zara, I said, stop talking,” he growled.

I shut up.

He slid his hand at my cheek, through my hair, and down my back where both hands started roaming.

I snuggled closer.

Eventually, Ham wrapped his arms around me to turn us so he could reach out and turn out the light. He kept hold of me as he located my toy and threw it on the nightstand and pulled the covers over us.

Then he settled on his back, me tucked close to his side, his fingers roaming the skin of my ass, my fingers sifting through the hair on his chest.

The air in the room was warm and heavy in a good way. I liked it. It didn’t feel suffocating. I felt safe. But no way either of us could sleep in that air. I knew it by the tension I could feel in Ham’s body and the same in mine.

So I moved to lighten the air.

“Any chance I’ll get you naked on your knees with your hands clasped behind your head?” I asked.

“No fuckin’ way,” Ham answered and I smiled into his skin.

I knew it before I asked. Ham was sweet, kind, affectionate, and generous. But in bed, he was definitely in charge.

Still, I offered, “I’ll vault over a bar for you.”

“That’s not gonna happen. You got the upper-body strength of a girl,” he replied.

I lifted my head to look down at him through the shadows. “News just in, I am a girl, babe.”

“Thank fuck,” he muttered.

It was at that, I burst out laughing.

And that was the last sound either of us made before I settled back into my man and we both fell asleep.

He’s Beautiful

Two days later…

“Thinkin’ this is too soon, babe,” Ham said quietly.

“Shh,” I shushed him, my eyes out the side window of his truck.

We were parked outside Zander’s school. School had just let out, kids in private-school uniforms were streaming out the doors, and I was concentrating.

I had no idea what he looked like but I was certain I’d know him on sight.

“Cookie,” Ham called.

“Shh,” I shushed him again, this time adding waving my hand behind me.

Ham didn’t want to come and he’d explained why. He figured I’d have the strength to fight the fight but I’d also have the patience if Zander was an entity out there I knew existed and wanted to connect with. But if he became real, in other words, I saw him, that patience would vanish and Nina had told us this wasn’t exactly a quick process so we’d both need lots of it.

But it had been four days. Four days of knowing he wasn’t too far away. Four days of knowing he was out there, living with Aunt Wilona, breathing, eating, studying, doing kid shit.

Four very long days.

I couldn’t wait any longer.

So when I searched the Internet and found the name of the only private school in three counties, one close to where Aunt Wilona lived, I’d told Ham I was going. He told me it was too soon. I told him I was going even if he didn’t go with me. Ham explained why it was too soon. I told him that made sense, but I couldn’t wait any longer. Then I grabbed my purse and keys.

So Ham took me.

“Zara, baby, it’s not too late. We can—” Ham started.

But I interrupted him by breathing, “Oh my God.”

My heart slid up in my throat, choking me.

There he was.

Oh my God, there he was.

He looked like Dad.

Which meant he looked like me.

But he was already tall, not like me, like Dad. He was also lean and straight, his navy-blue blazer fitting well on him. He wore his charcoal-gray trousers casually, like they were jeans. And he had a graceful gait, like he already was in command of his little man’s body.

And, last, he was laughing and walking with a bunch of boys as other kids called to them.

He had a posse. He had friends. He was clearly popular.

Like his Mom.

“Oh my God,” I repeated, my body stringing tight with the effort it took not to throw open the door and run to him.

As if he sensed it, Ham wrapped his fingers tight around my knee.

“Where is he?” Ham asked.

I barely controlled lifting my finger to point but said, “Right there. Blond hair, like mine. He’s got four boys with him. He’s almost to the end of the buses.”

I knew Ham spotted him when he muttered, “Fuck, looks just like you.”

“Yeah,” I whispered, my eyes glued to the boy who was making the motions of saying good-bye to his friends.

After he looked both ways, I watched him jog across the street. I craned my neck and then watched as he climbed into an SUV with Aunt Wilona behind the wheel.

My heart, still in my throat, started burning, swelling, and I was finding it difficult to breathe.

I watched Zander smile at my aunt and then put on his seatbelt.

Aunt Wilona smiled back and eased the car into the street.

I stared as they passed us. Neither of them turned to look, not that Zander would know who he was seeing. But they were gabbing to each other, sharing their days, like they probably did every day after school since kindergarten.

“Get us out of here, Ham,” I ordered, my voice husky and unsteady. “Get us out of here now.”

Ham wasted no time turning the ignition and moving into traffic.

“Okay, that was a bad idea,” I admitted softly when we were on our way.

“Fuck,” Ham replied.

“A really bad idea,” I stated.

“Knew that’d wreck you. Fuck,” Ham murmured.

“I think I’m gonna cry,” I told him.

“Do it,” Ham invited.

“I hurt all over,” I shared and I did. The pain was radiating out of my throat, blocking every pore.

“Baby.”

My eyes filled with tears. “He’s beautiful, Ham.”

Ham said nothing but his hand came back to my knee.

“She’d be so proud,” I whispered then I lost it.

Leaning forward, I buried my face in my hands and my shoulders started shaking with silent sobs.

About a second later, the truck was at the side of the road, my seatbelt was gone, and I was pulled across the cab and in Ham’s arms.

He held me until my emotion was spent and he kept holding me when, lips at my ear, he stated gently, “From now on, cookie, you gotta listen to me, okay?”

I nodded.

“This is gonna be hard enough, don’t make it harder,” he went on.

I nodded again.

“You listen to me, swear to Christ, honey, I’ll break my back to make that hard as easy on you as it can be.”

Every day in every way I loved this man more and more.

“Okay, darlin’,” I whispered.

“Now kiss me, napkins in the glove compartment, clean up, and let’s get you a mile-high mud pie at The Mark,” he finished.

I smiled a shaky smile into his neck.

Graham Reece so knew me.

I pulled back and gave him my shaky smile before I gave him a light kiss. Then I pulled away, cleaned up my face, and Ham took me to The Mark, where I could mute my sorrow in chocolate cake, fudge frosting, whipped chocolate mousse, and ice cream.

And although The Mark’s mud pie was amazing, what muted my sorrow was the hope that, one day, I’d be sitting there with Ham and Zander, watching my nephew eat one, too.

* * *

Reece

Reece stood in the doorway to the kitchen, shoulder resting against the jamb, eyes aimed through the living room to the doors of the balcony where he saw his girl sitting outside, feet up on the railing, beer in her hand, gaze on the mountains.

He had his phone in his hand. He looked down at it, hit the button, glued his eyes back to his woman, and put the phone to his ear.

“Reece, how’s everything?” Nina asked in his ear.

“We had a situation today,” Reece replied. “Zara couldn’t wait anymore. We went to Zander’s school to see if we could spot him. We did. She lost it.”

“Oh dear,” Nina murmured.

“We need to discuss a new strategy,” Reece informed her.

“And that would be?” she asked cautiously.

“She’s holdin’ it together but I ’spect that’s gonna dissolve. If we gotta make concessions without harmin’ the end goal, we’re gonna have to do that. But we need to get them to agree to arrange for a meeting with Zara and Zander and then regular visits.”

There was a long, weighty pause Reece did not like before Nina shared, “I received word from Xavier Cinders’ attorney today, Reece, and I’m sure it won’t surprise you that they’re already taking a hard line.”

She was right, it didn’t surprise him. But it did piss him off.

“Explain that,” he ordered.

“More things that won’t surprise you but mention of Zara’s divorce, the brevity of that union, the loss of her home and shop. And you and I may need to have a sit down so you can share anything I might need to know, because they didn’t say it up front, but my guess is, they’re investigating you and if you’ve got skeletons in your closet, I have to know about them.”

“I don’t,” Ham stated.

“That’s good but maybe I need to be the judge of that,” Nina replied.

Fuck.

“It was also noted that you were caught up in that mess with that serial killer,” she went on.

Fuck.

“Not my fault that guy had me in his sights,” Ham returned.

“Agreed. But that doesn’t mean they won’t twist it in some way to make it work for them.”

“Goddamn it,” Reece muttered.

“Do you want good news?” she asked.

“If you got it,” he answered.

“I’ve had long conversations with both Zara’s maternal aunts. I know she primed them before they called me but I’m pleased to report they told me what they told her. They’re willing to assist us any way we need it. As you know, they, too, were under the impression Zander had been adopted and they’re about as happy as Zara is that he wasn’t. They’re also a bit put out they weren’t invited to Xenia’s final services.”

“Know that already, Nina,” Reece told her and he knew this because Zara had reported it to him after the lengthy phone calls she’d had with her aunts two days ago.

“Yes, well, it’s still good they’ve confirmed with me. One minor problem with this is they never witnessed any physical abuse of Amy, Xenia, or Zara. That said, they often saw Xavier lose his temper, he did it quickly, they found it alarming, and they watched how their sister cowed and how the girls were not saved from this by father or mother. They’ve also heard Wilona and Dahlia pile verbal abuse on Amy. I don’t know how far that will go but they’ve both agreed to be deposed locally. We’ll add their depositions to our evidence but neither can afford back-and-forth trips and we’re on a budget, too. So we’ll save their visits to Colorado if we need them, or hopefully when they come out to meet their great-nephew.”

“Fine,” Reece replied.

“And another bit of news I’m not entirely certain what to do with,” she said, and Ham’s focus on Zara dimmed so he could focus on her words mostly because of how she said them.

“That is?” he prompted.

“Max and I were out with the kids last night and we got a visit at our table from Pastor Williams.”

This was so surprising, and considering how the man handled Zara, the service, and Zara’s guess that he was the one who shared about the service with Mick, Ham straightened away from the door. “And?”