Taking the Fall (1-4)

“Not going to lie though, baby, it would have been cute to have a little girl that looked just like you… as long as she didn’t have the red hair. I probably would have never let her out of the house.”

“Five pounds and two ounces,” I hear a nurse call out. Another cry pierces the room and I know the second baby is here.

“Well, this isn’t common but it looks like baby number two is a girl and not a boy after all.”

Carter jumps up from his kneeling position and his whole face goes slack.

“Carter,” is all I can choke out, and his eyes come back to mine before he brings his hand to his face to rub his eyes. “She’s got red fucking hair, Cherry.”

My whole face breaks out into a smile. “We’ll call her, Mary,” I say.

Dropping his hand from his eyes, he stares at me and I can see his eyes are shining. No tears escape but I see all his emotions on his face. “After my mom,” he whispers. “It’s perfect.”

Approximately 18 years later

“I don’t care if it’s Jeanette and Saint’s only son, I swear to God, I’ll snap that little prick’s neck,” Carter growls, pacing beside the foot of the bed.

Mary is graduating this year and finally picked the college she’ll be attending in the fall. It wasn’t a week later that Jeanette and Saint’s son announced he would be attending the same school. This isn’t shocking news to me. I’ve seen the way he looks at Mary. It’s more than a young man’s lust, it’s adoration.

Setting my book down on the end table next to the bed, I just watch him. It’s best to let him stomp around a little before to help settle him down. Almost twenty-five years I’ve been with this man and I know the two things that work him up most are me and his daughter. He was so scared of being a father to a little girl but he is perfect at it. Because of Carter I know Mary understands what a good man is. She has a shining example of one for a father. Carter might be rough around the edges, but he would do anything for me and that is what I know she sees every day. Carter would crawl through glass if I asked him to do it.

These big gruff men seem badass, but when it comes to their woman it’s a whole new ball game.

“Carter, come here,” I say, tossing the blanket off my lap so he can lay his head there, his skin against mine. That always seems to work best.

Crawling onto the bed he drops his head in my lap and I can feel the tension leave his body.

“She’ll be fine. I promise. It’s time.” Closing his eyes, he doesn’t respond and I just stroke his buzzed hair. “I believe I was sixteen when something locked me into being yours.”

“That was different,” he growls and tries to get back up, but I stop him with the lightest touch that brings his head back into my lap.

“Carter, I remember the look, and that boy has the same one you did,” I remind him, trying to get him to see it too. They might be young but I was younger when I fell in love with him.

“He’s a good boy,” I continue. “We would be lucky if they fell in love and ended up together. No one would treat her better.” It’s true and he knows it. He’s just having a hard time letting go. Our babies are all leaving the nest. That boy has followed Mary around since they both started crawling. It was like they were born to be together. I want their love story to be different than ours. I love Carter’s and mine, but it took pain and blood to get here and we raised our family to be different. Their love story could be simpler than ours because we made it that way for them. They won’t have to fight for it like we did. We already did that for them.

“Let them be. Think about the positive. Just you and me in this big old warehouse again. I can go back to walking around naked,” I tease. He’s always complaining that there isn’t enough of me walking around naked. This is a complaint he makes often and loudly. I’ve heard people say attraction and lust cool after time, but Carter’s has never lessened for even a moment. There has never been a time in the past twenty-five years that I didn’t think Carter wanted me.

Growling in typical Carter fashion, he flips me onto my back in moments, looming over me.

“Kiss me,” I whisper against his lips.

“That’s my line, Cherry,” he says, and takes my lips.

JEANETTE

“Back up, motherfucker!” I feel like my heart is pounding out of my chest as I point the gun at the door. Not again…never again. I won’t let this happen to me again.

“Jeanette!” a man yells. As soon as I see his face my eyes start to water. The gun in my hand waivers for a second, but I train it back on him.

“I said back up!” I scream, and both men stop instantly. I try to steady the gun, but I feel like I’m seeing double. I must have hit my head harder than I realized.

“Where’s Layla?” the shaved-head one demands. I squeeze the gun tight, trying to get the shaking to stop but it isn’t working. They are both big motherfuckers. I don’t want them to see my fear. Men use your fear against you. You’ve done this before, Jeanette, you can do it again. Them or me. With that thought, I feel the gun steady.

I don’t care if I’m only wearing a sheet. If I look like I’m in control and that I know how to handle a gun, then they’ll stay back.

“Mama, listen to me. It’s me, baby. It’s Saint and Carter. We aren’t going to hurt you. We are here to save you. Put the gun down and come here.”