Page 97 of Outlaw Heartstrings
“Let me help you, Alba.”
She shakes her head. “I’m going to be late.”
“Alba, slow down.”
She tries to hustle toward the bathroom door, but only makes it two steps before she gets dizzy, wobbles, and nearly falls.
I dart forward, catching her. “That’s it. You’re not working that job anymore.” I clutch her possessively against my chest, refusing to let her go.
I’m putting my fucking foot down.
“Excuse the fuck out of me?” she whisper-yells, but it doesn’t hold much heat considering I’m still holding her upright. “Nothing is wrong with working as a maid. It’s honest work, and I need the paycheck.”
“It is, and I respect it one hundred percent, Alba.” I hiss back. Then I pause, gently taming her hair behind her ears. “But I grew up watching my mother work herself to the bone to make ends meet. I still remember how burnt out she was all the time. I remember watching her push forward, even though she was exhausted, and I remember just feeling so damn helpless that I couldn’t fix things for her. I don’t want Jagger feeling like that, especially when I have the financial resources to make your life easier. Let me do this for you. For my son.”
“I can’t take your money, Easton.” She shakes her head.
“I owe eight years of child support. I think a judge would agree that you can take my money,” I say, gritting my words through my teeth.
She stomps a foot. “Fine. Helping him is one thing. But you’re not paying my bills.”
“Doesn’t Jagger use electricity? Water? Internet?” I quirk an eyebrow at her.
“Ugh! Can you quit being so annoying?”
“Canyouquit with your control freak-ness?”
Alba grimaces. “Control freak-ness is not a thing.”
“You’ve made it a thing.”
Because, let’s face it. That’s what it is. Alba Anderson is a fucking control freak. That’s why she’s carried the weight of the world on her shoulders for eight long years instead of just tracking me down and demanding that I take responsibility for the son I didn’t know I had.
Well, that shit ends today. We’re in this together whether she likes it or not.
“Now, stop. Please. I need you to let go of your bossiness and learn to trust others to step up and do their part. Let me do my part, Alba.”
“I don’t…I just…I…” She exhales, her fight losing steam. “It may be hard for you to understand why I can’t accept your help. You’re a multi-millionaire, while I’m barely scraping by, after all. You probably think I’m just being stubborn for the heck of it. But here’s the thing I need you to understand.” Her voice shakes with vulnerability. “Over the past few years, I’ve been abandoned by every single person I was depending on—my father, my sister, hell, even Christopher—”
“I’m nothing like Christopher,” I spit out defensively.
She nods reluctantly. “You’ve already proven that,Easton. You’ve proven to me that you want to take care of your son—”
“Andyou.” I touch her cheek. “I want to take care of you.”
Her teeth gnaw on her bottom lip. “That’s sort of my point. You want to take care of me now. But what happens if you ever change your mind?”
I want to fight her. I want to tell her that I’d never turn my back on her. But instead of fighting, I just listen. Because I can tell that her deepest, darkest fears want to be heard.
“I’ve learned that a woman who lays her financial security in the hands of someone else is essentially playing Russian roulette. One unfortunate pull of the trigger, and my life could blow up right in front of me.” She swallows thickly. “That’s a very vulnerable position to be in. And I can’t let that happen to me again. I can’t take the risk. Especially with Jagger and my mom depending on me.”
I wait until she’s done talking, until her words have been reduced to nothing but a series of shallow panting sounds.
Then I speak. “Look, Jagger needs you to be healthy and happy and ready to fight his battles whenever they pop up. You can’t do that if you’re running on empty. I’d never take your power away from you, Alba. I’d never expect you to give up your independence and blindly put all your faith in me. I’m not trying to take over your life. But just let me be your support. Let me do my part, yeah?”
After a long assessing moment, Alba gives me a slow nod.
“Thank you. You won’t regret this,” I say, utterly relieved.
