Morrison (Caldwell Brothers)

Sensing this, reading me, Morrison pulls me against him, laying me half over his chest. Then he strokes my hair while I listen to the steady thump of his heart, relaxing once again.

“You are the strongest woman I have ever known, outside of my mother. I once made a promise to be the good in a world of bad. Hailey, let me give you good.”

I start to sit up to look at him, but he keeps me in place, dropping a quick kiss on the top of my head.

“Sleep, Hailey. No more hard knocks—just good. Sleep on that.”

I want to argue. I want to . . . I don’t know. I just want to yell, throw something, and tell him, “If only it were that easy.” Yet, I don’t. Instead, I find myself listening to the beat of his heart as I drift into a sound and peaceful sleep that I have never before experienced in my entire life.

Chapter Eleven

She is finally asleep. Finally.

As a child, I saw my mother cry. I saw it a few times, actually. Every time I asked what was wrong, she froze up and told me everything would be fine. She would comfort me. As I grew older, I no longer had to ask.

By the age of seven, I remember knowing exactly what was wrong. I remember hearing him berate and degrade her. I remember Hendrix pacing and looking like he wanted to escape the little shit box of a room where all three of us slept. It was in the back corner of the apartment and the smallest room, but I don’t remember the old man’s drunk ass making it back there more than once, maybe twice.

Momma tucked us away, figuring she could protect us back there.

In her weakest moment, she told me everything about her life, her mother, how she was raised, and what she had been through.

Hailey. Holy fucking conundrum, Batman! This chick’s life has been a whole different level of hell than Momma’s. No physical abuse—well, not anything like Momma’s, anyway.

To feel like you were owned and somehow owed the rest of your life to some piece of shit who reminded you every day that he possessed you, that shit right there strips your pride, your confidence, and any fucking hope that a human being could have. And, regardless of what Momma and us boys endured, we at least had hope. Hope is the single strongest feeling you can have. Hope doesn’t go away. It may hide, like right now, but it comes back with a vengeance.

Hailey said she has none, and I couldn’t tell her she was wrong; I could only listen. She was wrong, though. She has hope—hope for her daughter. And, if she could only see that, she would be well on her way to healing, to overcoming the shit storm her life is.

In the dark of night, her body trembles, and she starts making these little noises, almost silent sobs, as she lies against my chest. I pull her tighter, and they go away.

God, it feels good to know I can do that for her.

I wish someone could have done that for Momma.

She was right, though: Monte is a snake. I played against him in one of the underground tourneys around Vegas, kicked his ass, and walked away with enough money to buy this place. For a week, I watched my back, because he and his goons were everywhere. I didn’t change shit in how I went about my day, but right then and there, I decided I wouldn’t play in that circuit again.

As much as I love the thrill of the game, I love my face and my possessions more, and I didn’t want either to get fucked up. Let’s face it; I’m not Jackie fucking Chan, but going toe to toe, I could wipe the floor with anyone I want. Hell, the old man whupped the shit out of me, and I let him. Why? Because it pissed him off that I was stronger than he was, and it taught me to fear no man. Pain is nothing.

But I’m not fucking stupid, either.

If my brothers were here, I could tear shit up and know Monte and his goons wouldn’t have a chance. However, holding her still trembling body, I know damn well logic and reason would be compromised by the worry and fear that he would take away her hope, in the form of that cute-as-hell little chick who is sleeping in the spare bedroom.

When I have my lightbulb moment, finally figuring it out, I laugh, and she stirs, but after a few seconds she settles back into her slumber.

I wake when the sun starts to peek in the window. As I move out from under her, she opens her eyes.

“You should go slide in bed with the little one, get some more sleep.”