Page 25 of Born Into Trouble (Occupy Yourself)
Frozen in place, she jerked and shuddered, trying to hold the tears in check. Staring at him, she seemed frozen, saying nothing, so he tried again. “Luce, tell me what’s happened?”
“Miguel.” Her voice husky with emotion, she offered nothing more than her baby brother’s name and Benny’s gut clenched.
“What happened?” She needed to tell him Mickey was okay. He’d come to love the little turd. Mickey and Roddy both, Rafe, too. Bear’s blended family. Benny suddenly remembered what happened to Bear’s wife and daughter, and his grip on her arm tightened involuntarily. “What’s happened to Mickey?”
“He…” She pulled in a breath, visibly steadying herself. “He broke his arm.”
“Oh, thank God,” he said, taking a huge breath, feeling relief washing through him, spilling side-to-side, coating and calming the terror gripping him tightly. “Is that all?”
Pulling away, she slipped from his grasp, and he missed the touch of her immediately. “Is thatall?” Her question hissed through the air, and he watched as her mouth twisted, her head shaking side-to-side. She sniffed, fingers wiping her cheeks as her eyes flashed with anger. “I guess if you’re a famous star, a little boy’s pain isn’t much to worry about.Soy su hermana.”
He was hurt by her tone and without thinking, snapped, “It’s a lot better than what happened to Bear’s family.” When her face went white, he wished he could suck the words back down, bury them underneath anything he could find in order to ensure they’d never break free. “Honey, I’m sorry. I like the little shrimp a lot. I’m sorry he’s hurt, I am. All I meant is a broken arm will heal.” He stepped closer, not surprised when she took a matching step backwards.Make it right. “Are you headed home?” He knew she hadn’t held her license for long, and didn’t want to think of her driving in this state. “Let me give you a lift. We’ll get there faster, I promise. Get you wherever Mickey is, yeah?” Intentionally, he echoed Bear’s speech patterns, hoping to drive home the idea quickly.
“I’m sorry, Ben.” She looked at the ground between them. “I wasn’t thinking.”
“Neither was I, Luce. Water under the bridge. The important thing is Mickey’s gonna be okay. Now, let me get you home.” Reaching out, he held his breath until she slipped her palm against his, holding on tightly as he led her to his borrowed car.
***
Leaning sideways, he whispered to Lucia, “I think he likes having two grandmas.” It was six hours after he’d literally run into her at the club’s place, and Miguel was finally installed on the couch in Bear’s apartment. An apartment that was coincidently in the same building as Andy and Ruby’s apartment. Lucia had been that close, and he never knew.
They were laughing at Bear’s mom, Maggie, and the kids’ grandmother, who everyone called Abuela, as they good-naturedly dueled to see who could give the kid the most prizes and treasures for being so silly as to get hurt.
He turned in time to see the smile Lucia turned towards the couch. Fond and affectionate, it softened her face in a way that accented her beauty. Everything he’d discovered about her, he liked. Nearly of a height with him, she had her hands tucked behind her back, shoulders against the wall they were sharing. Out of the way, but available in case Mickey needed her, she waited with a patience that spoke of deep love. Her lips parted, and his eyes dropped to see the tip of her tongue glide across her bottom one, his cock waking up at the sight.Fuck.
Jerking back to face the room, he saw Bear was standing in the opening to the kitchen area, watching Benny, an appraising look on his face. Fighting getting hard in a way he hadn’t done for a long time, Benny gave him the wordless chin lift so many of the Rebel Wayfarers seemed to use as a covers-everything greeting. After a moment during which his contemplation of Benny stayed heavy and focused, he returned the gesture, turning to speak to Eddie where she was fiddling with the coffee maker.
“Yeah.” This came from Lucia and pulled his attention back to her, seeing the expression on her face had softened even more, but now she was looking at him, and he didn’t know what to make of that. Eyes falling to her lips again, he watched her pull the bottom one between her teeth, letting it slide out slowly, glistening with wetness, which made her already plump lips look even more so. Now his dick was doing a lot more than waking up, and he was afraid he would be looking for a pillow to hold in a minute.
“Benny.” His name came from Bear across the room, and he jerked his head up, erection effectively managed with a single word from Lucia’s dad. “Talk to Slate lately?”
Shaking his head, he decided he would share Ruby’s news. “Talked to Rubes yesterday morning.” He wouldn’t have been able to derail the grin on his face if he tried. “He met her with a ring when she got off the plane.” Bear started grinning back at him. “She was a little…excited.”
“What?” That shriek came from Eddie, who pushed Bear to one side as she forced her way into the living room. “DeeDee,” she turned to speak to the redhead coming out of the kitchen behind her. “Did you know about this?” DeeDee might not be Ruby’s birth mom—that bitch was as poor an example of motherhood as his own was—but she had effectively raised Ruby since the girl befriended her daughter in grade school. Her daughter died in a car accident alongside DeeDee’s husband. Benny cut his eyes to Bear. Like his wife and daughter.
“Slate showed me the ring,” DeeDee murmured, her face holding as much love for his brother as Lucia’s had for Mickey a moment ago. “Glad he decided to take the leap.” Her gaze turned to Benny. “She called you?”
Uh oh, this might be tricky, he thought. With a slow up-and-down movement of his head, he said, “Yeah, she’s turned into my big sister. Gonna be my sister-in-truth we decided.” That should explain the relationship he had with Ruby, without making it seem odd she called him and not the woman who might as well be her mom.
“I’m glad she’s got you.” DeeDee’s words were honest and filled with joy, not upset Ruby hadn’t called her, hadn’t picked up the phone, more than a full day later.
***
Baby. Benita’s voice drilled down through the drunken haze engulfing him. He liked it here. He didn’t want to wake up. Didn’t want to lose the fog that gave space between himself and the pain that seemed to be his entire life. Baby.
The voice held more than a hint of an accent, and he found himself squinting up at the unsmiling face hovering over him. “Benny.”
Blinking up at the beautiful cocoa-colored skin and warm brown eyes, the first thing he thought with any clarity wasFuck. His mouth wasn’t connected yet, wasn’t working. Mute, not enough synapsing connections working right now to drive the engine behind his most useful deflection weapon. “Benny.”
His stomach revolted, and he turned his head sideways, trying not to vomit on the woman seated on the edge of the couch. Even with Andy and Ruby gone, he still couldn’t bring himself to sleep in their bed. That was theirs, nothing to do with the trash that was his existence. Trash he’d proven wasn’t far away with his decisions last night. He moved, and a loud clunk announced the heavy-bottomed, but now entirely empty black label whiskey bottle had fallen to the floor.
“Get out.” Face to the back of the couch, he squeezed his eyes shut, waiting to feel the weight leave the cushion at his hip. He swallowed convulsively, still trying not to vomit, knowing from his vast experience, he’d be losing the battle within a few minutes.
“Benny.” Could a voice carry the weight of disappointment and sadness? Seemed so, because hearing Lucia say his name again pressed against him, forcing him deeper in the couch, keeping him where he was. Mired in his decisions. Again. “What happened?”
“Get out.” He repeated his words, but with less conviction than before. If he had to open his mouth again, he’d lose what little control he had over his body, even now feeling his hold slipping away. His stomach jerked, and lurched again, and he jackknifed to sitting, feeling the room sway in a way that would not assist in achieving a settled stomach. A bowl appeared in front of him, and he grabbed it away from the small, feminine hands, dropping his head into the opening as he heaved. And retched. And gagged. Dribbles of bile the first thing to make an appearance. Burning yellow globs of acid setting his throat on fire, the familiar pain telling him how bad this was going to be.
Two hundred and seventy-four fucking days.
