Fractured Affections (The Affections Series Book 1) (12 page)

“This doesn’t bother you? That throws me off even more, and I don’t know what to think.”

How can he not be upset and hurt by this? If I had found out that he was sad over an ex, because she had been with someone else, then I would question everything about his intentions with that person.

“Reagan, I know you, and I know Striker. I know. Shit, I knew before I invited him to stay that you both still care for one another. I’m not blind, baby.”

“I’m sorry, Dalt. I hate that you know. I don’t ever want you to doubt the love we have.”

“Damn, Rea, I could never doubt anything we have shared. It’s always been more of a challenge for us, but it was always real. I could never ask for more than that. You are too kind of a person to love anyone falsely. Everything you do is true to your heart.”

My sniffle increases drastically as I listen to him speak. He always did know the right things to say to me. I love him so much. He’s right, I could never hurt him.

“Go back to bed and call me in the morning, and, Rea? Maybe Striker is right. Maybe it’s time that you guys work out what happened. I know it still hurts you, how he left, maybe it’s time to find peace with that.”

“Why now? It’s been bothering me, Dalt. Why do you want me to fix this now? Why didn’t you bring this up years ago? I know you hid your weekend trips with him from me. I’m not mad. I just don’t understand,” I say through my tears.

“I guess I’m more selfish than you thought, baby, but now I’m beginning to realize that I should have done this a long time ago.”

In this moment I can’t tell if he is doing this for him or for me, but I can’t argue the fact that I have lived with so much anger, over the years, because of my relationship with Striker. After he left, I turned into someone I couldn’t recognize. I’ve never forgiven myself for some of the lies that I had told, shortly after his departure. I never wanted to be that kind of person, but my anger and hate caused me to do things that I can never take back.

“And, baby, tell him the whole truth. It’s time,” Dalton says in a cautious voice.

Chapter Eleven

Reagan

What is that sound? It won’t stop. Where is it coming from? I try to listen intently so I can find which direction the sound is traveling, but it’s grating my nerves and I’m becoming more agitated by the minute. Someone turn whatever that is off! I fight with myself for a few more minutes about where to find this God-awful noise. I slowly begin to realize that I’m lying in my bed, now half asleep, and the noise I hear is my alarm going off. I roll over and lift my uninjured hand to turn the damn thing off.

I sit up slowly, taking care not to push up on my splinted hand. It’s only been one day and I already can’t stand wearing this thing. I rub my face and can feel how swollen my eyes are from crying last night. I’m not looking forward to today. One step forward and ten steps back. I hate this feeling of being at war with myself. The emotions battling one another inside me over two different men, mixed with the guilt I carry because of it, makes it difficult for me to place my feet on the floor and move through my day.

Continuing on is all I can do though. I go to my closet, slip on some yoga pants and a long sleeve top, and head down to the kitchen, so I can make the boys breakfast. When I get down there, all three of them are already eating at the island. I feel a little disappointed that they didn’t really need me to fix them anything. I make my way down the row giving each one a kiss on the cheek. “Good morning.”

“Morning, Ma, how’s your hand?” Max asks.

“It’s okay, hurts a little but I’m fine, sweetie,” I reply and force a slight smile on my face.

Colt looks at my splint with a bewildered look on his face. “What is that thing?” He points to my hand.

“This is a splint, it keeps my hand bent so it can heal the right way.” I lift my hand and jokingly move it near Colt’s face like it’s about to attack and he laughs. I smile a little easier now.

Dylan begins to speak through his laughter with a mouth full of food. “We should name it. How about, The Claw?”

I scrunch my nose and raise my hand to make a show out of inspecting my splint to see if the name suits it.

“Hmmmm. I don’t know, not sure that one feels right. Any other ideas?”

“Monster Hook,” Max says with excitement and carries his cereal bowl to the sink.

“The Scooper, cause it rhymes with pooper,” I hear Colt say, as he climbs from the stool, causing a round of laughter to fill the kitchen.

“Nah, how about Mom’s Talon?”Striker says from behind me. My body freezes as the tension I feel travels over me. “Morning, Rea. Did you sleep okay? I was worried about you.”

All three boys look up at me and Striker continues. “I mean, I was worried about your hand. Your surgery was only yesterday. Does it feel okay?”

The lighthearted feeling, from being with my boys, slowly starts to fade as I begin to worry about my impending talk with Striker. I’m lost in thought over what needs to be said when I notice all the boys grabbing their things to head out the door. I look over at the clock and realize they have another half hour before its time to leave.

“Where are you guys going?” I ask, as Striker lifts the car keys into his hand.

“Uncle Striker is taking us past the pond this morning to see how things look before dropping us off at the school,” Dylan says, leaning in to kiss my cheek before he exits the kitchen.

I turn to Striker with a raised brow. “Checking out the pond?”

“It’s been a while since I was here last. I want to make sure I don’t need to clean any brush before I try to take the boys out there with all of our fishing gear.”

“Don’t you think you should ask me before you assume that you can just take my kids without me?” I ask in a slightly sarcastic tone.

“Really? I guess you will have to deal with it, woman, because I already told them we were going.” The mocking tone he uses helps to lighten my mood.

“Well, okay then. They will like that. Are you coming back here after dropping the boys off?” I start cleaning up some remaining dishes on the counter and head over to the dishwasher.

“Will you stop cleaning up? I’ll take care of it.”

Striker stops me and removes the bowl from my hand.

“I was going to stop by a job, just to check on a few things. I don’t know Dalt’s crews that well, so I just want to make sure things are as they should be. I should be back here around lunch time.”

I smile timidly over my shoulder. “Okay, see you then.”

“Is there anything you need? I can wait until this afternoon if you need me to.” I can hear him take a few steps closer to me as he speaks. “I told you I would take care of you, so if you need me, just say so and I will make arrangements to be available.”

“No, I’m fine. Please do what you need to. I’m just going to eat some breakfast and head out to the porch to drink my coffee, but thanks.”

Striker gives me a sad smile and leaves the room, trailed by my younger two children. “Um, boys, are you forgetting something?”

They both turn around and head back to give me a kiss goodbye before running out to the car. I shuffle around the quiet kitchen, making myself some buttered toast and a cup of coffee. It’s amazing how difficult a task can be with only one hand, but I don’t like to rely on others to help me with such simple things. When the toast pops up, I grab the butter from the fridge and try to spread it across the bread. Easy enough? Nope, not while you have this massive ‘I can’t do shit with my left hand’ splint on. The toast is sliding all over the place and my frustration is at its peak. I just need enough food to take my medicine, so I fight through getting one piece buttered and whistle for my dogs.

“Come!” I yell and immediately hear them haphazardly running through the house to see what morsel I have waiting for them. They are the laziest dogs, but let them think they are getting even a crumb of human food and they kick it into high gear. They both round the corner to the kitchen, looking to me and wagging their tails. When they reach me, they both sit calmly with their tongues hanging from their mouth, panting like they just ran the perimeter of the yard three times. I drop them each a piece.

Life should be this simple. How nice would it be, if the only things I had to worry about in life were getting fed and getting my belly scratched? Lucky bastards. No, instead I wake up the day after surgery, jealous of my best friend for sleeping with my first boyfriend, who is a houseguest while my husband is out of town. I was moving through life just fine, happy even. Then like a tornado out of nowhere, with devastating winds that leave nothing but destruction and devastation in their path, my life was swept into this gust of uncertainty and heartache.

Life will take a drastic turn today. I would just like to spend the next few hours not thinking about anything, but I need to call Riley and make sure she is doing alright after last night. I know she is probably having a tough time. I can’t even imagine what went through her head when she saw Striker in my home. I reluctantly grab my phone and head to the porch with coffee in hand.

As I open the front door, my dogs dart out at lightning speed, almost knocking me down. After steadying myself, I look down expecting a mess. Wow, I did pretty good, not one drop of coffee spilled from my cup. I slide my phone from my pocket as I make my way to the swing and dial Riley. Her phone rings long enough that her voice mail picks up, which never happens. I hang up and dial again. After my fourth attempt, I’m about to give up, and she answers sounding defeated.

“Hi, Ri. I hear you had quite the surprise last night, and I wanted to check on you.”

“I’m fine, Reagan. Why wouldn’t I be? I came to your house to see how you were doing, and my mystery man was in your kitchen feeding your children dinner. No big deal really. He kindly took me to another room, where he pretty much told me that he would never come home with me again.” Her distress is palpable through the phone. She’s mad at me, but I can’t figure out how this is my fault.

“I’m sorry, I had no idea he was even going out to bars, let alone going home with you. If I would have known, I would have told you he was Dalton’s cousin.” What else could I apologize for; she’s the one who took him home without knowing his name.

“No need for you to be sorry. I just can’t figure out what his relation to Dalton has to do with anything. Why is Dalton the reason why he had to call it quits? We had a really goodtime together.” Riley’s voice is whiney at the end. I’m having trouble not throwing up my single piece of toast.

“Well, I may be able to help you answer that.”

“Oh yeah, well go ahead. Is it worse than when you helped me figure out I repetitively slept with him and I never got his name? So yeah, tell me why he couldn’t at least offer dinner after I fucked his brains out several times.”

Now she’s back to pissed. I stop swinging and tuck my legs beneath me, taking a deep breath to prepare myself before I speak. “Well, it could be just a little worse, actually. Um, Striker grew up with us. We were all very close. Through my teenage years and before Dalton and I got together…I ah…well-”

“Spit it out, Rea.”

“I was with Striker first, and when he left town it killed me.”

The other end is silent. I know Riley hates the fact that she slept with him now, knowing we were together at some point. She may sleep with a lot of men, but she does not like the idea of ever sharing them with her friends. The only time she ever made that mistake she got pregnant with Kiley. It kills her that he isn’t involved. Any hope that she had to work things out with Striker, I just shot out the window. I can’t help but feel victory in this. It’s completely wrong and I feel the guilt immediately.

I close my eyes and wait for her response and hope to God she is not crying.  I hate to hear her cry. She is so messed up when it comes to men. I usually have to listen to her ramble on about things that make me queasy, but she is still the best girlfriend I’ve ever had. I can turn to her for anything. I should have already talked to her about him and my past. I think deep down, I couldn’t because I wasn’t over him yet, so I kept my past hidden from the one person who tells me everything.

“I know I kept this from you, and I don’t know what else to say. Please don’t be mad at me. Maybe one day I can tell you my horrible life story, but I don’t have it in me today. Can you come by tomorrow? Bring Kiley. Max has not seen her in a couple weeks and I know he misses you guys.”

“Okay, Rea. That sounds fine. Talk to you soon.” And the phone disconnects.

Everything just keeps getting worse. I feel like someone is taking a chisel and slowly whittling away at my sanity. The ache that I used to feel in my chest is now dwindling and the hollow feeling that I fear is taking root. I have to get it together, maybe see my therapist. I can’t fall into that hole again. I have to be a mother now; my sons deserve that. They deserve the mother that I am with Dalton by my side, not the one I am becoming while living with Striker.

How can a man, I have not seen in over ten years, still have this much power and control over me? Even as I ask the question, I know the answer, but it’s a tough one to swallow. Striker is my unfinished business, my one true love. I never really healed after he left. Dalton helped to hold the pieces together, but I’m still broken. Dalton was right. I need closure. I don’t want to wait any longer because I need to move forward instead of the direction I have been. I need to fix this downward spiral I’m on. I reach for my phone, calling the only person who could ever really fix me.

“What’s up?”

“Striker, I changed my mind. I need you to come home. We need to talk and it can’t wait.” The desperation in my voice would be recognizable to anyone.

“On my way. Are you okay?”

My response is barely audible, “Yeah, just don’t hate me.”

Chapter Twelve

Striker

“Is Mom okay?” Colt asks from the back seat. The other two boys are looking at me with puzzled looks on their faces. I’m pretty sure my expression reflects theirs. I hate that they heard her upset, but my phone automatically connects to the car speakers. By the time I realized how upset she sounded, the line had already disconnected.