Avoiding Amy Jackson (37 page)

I wipe the tears off of my cheeks and take a deep, cleansing breath. “I think I need to see him. I need to go see Benny.”

“You want me to go with you?” My mother’s voice is comforting, and I almost want to take her up on her offer, but I know I need to do this on my own.

“Thank you, but I really need to do this by myself, Mom,” I say before I kiss her cheek and hug her tightly.

I need to finally face my demons and visit Benny’s gravesite. I haven’t been there since we buried him fourteen years ago. I need to find closure. I need to let go of the past and take off this giant weight of guilt I’ve been carrying around on my shoulders.

I can’t avoid my grief any longer.

Chapter Thirty-Two

“She can bust my balls any day of the week.” - James

After several hours on the road, I was tired and weary with sleep. I stayed at a hotel only a few miles from Amy’s parents house and managed to catch a little shut-eye. I need myself at tiptop mental capacity before I attempt to work on winning over the always running, constantly avoiding Amy Jackson. This isn’t going to be an easy task. She is as feisty and stubborn as they come. She has no qualms with speaking her mind. I’m just praying that her obstinate brain has finally decided to give up on the whole ‘we’re just friends’ routine so I can let her see that she belongs with me. Not some fuckwad she picked up at a bar. Not someone dickless twat who doesn’t know how truly wonderful she is. She fucking belongs with me.

I finally pull up to her parents’ house and cut the engine, hopping off of my bike and setting my helmet on the seat. They reside in a very nice neighborhood—I’d say upper-middle class. The house is a charming white brick two-story home with a beautiful porch that wraps all the way around the front. Flowerboxes filled with yellow roses line the windows. The grass and garden beds are meticulously manicured. Their home looks warm and inviting.

Adrenaline is starting to course through my veins, and I feel like I’m back in my Marine days, ready to head out on a mission to stop Iraqi terrorists. I might as well be attempting to convince a crowd of feminists that men aren’t really horny assholes while I’m standing butt-ass naked with a raging hard-on. It’s safe to say that Amy has me tied up in knots and nervous as hell.

I drag my hand down my face and give myself a mental pep talk before heading to her parents’ front door and knocking a few times. I shuffle back and forth like an anxious idiot before a woman answers. She is elegantly beautiful with the same brunette hair and big brown eyes as Amy. I’m assuming this is her mother, and the idea that Amy will age this gracefully has me really excited to get our future together started…
right the fuck now.

“Can I help you?” Mrs. Jackson is looking at me with curiosity, glancing out to the street and catching sight of the motorcycle I drove into town on. I feel somewhat self-conscious underneath her scrutiny. I glance down at my black boots, faded jeans, and white t-shirt. Now I’m regretting my decision to just throw random shit into my duffle bag, I definitely should have dressed a little more conservative for this occasion. I mean, I knew there was a chance I would meet her parents for fuck’s sake.

“Hi, Mrs. Jackson. I’m James Williams, a friend of Amy’s.” Hearing the word
friend
slip off of my tongue makes my chest ache. I don’t want to be just her friend anymore. I want to be more than that. I want to be everything.

“Oh James! It’s so nice to finally meet you! Amy has told me so much about you!” She puts out her arms out and yanks me in for an unexpected hug.

Amy talks to her mother about me?

Well, shit. Maybe this isn’t going to be as hard as I thought it would be. The fact that Amy has told her mom about me has my mouth turning up into a giant grin. Mrs. Jackson gently pulls away and her face is beaming in a motherly way. She is so warm and her positive personality is infectious. I wonder where in the hell Amy got her personality from…

“Linda! If that’s another god damn salesman trying to sell me encyclopedias, tell them I wasn’t kidding when I said I’d shove each and every one of those stupid books up their ass!” a deep male voice yells from inside of the house.

“It’s not a salesman. It’s one of Amy’s friends! Just mind your own business and set the table for lunch!” Mrs. Jackson shouts behind her shoulder. I hear faint grumbling from inside and cabinets opening and closing in what I’m assuming is the kitchen. Now it’s all making sense. Amy got her looks from her mother and her feisty, outspoken personality from her father.

“Please just ignore him. He’s a grumpy old man these days. I wish he would have never retired from the force.” She smiles sweetly at me and then rolls her eyes at the racket her husband is making from the kitchen. I guess she inherited the eye-rolling from her mother.

I laugh a little at her ability to handle Amy’s father with finesse. I should probably take notes from her, seeing as Amy is the spitting image of him. “Is Amy home?” I ask as I slide my hands into the pockets of my jeans.

“Actually, she just left for a little bit. She went to her brother Benny’s gravesite.”

Holy shit
. Not only did I not know she had a brother, I didn’t know her brother had passed away. Now I’m starting to understand…
everything.

The freak-out she had when she tried to take care of the young boy in the ER, the little boy who drowned early yesterday morning in his family’s pool. Before we found her in the bathroom, Ellen had disclosed that Amy had lost someone close to her when she was a teenager, that someone had drowned in a pool. And the look on her face when I found her in the stall… She was terrified and panicked and her face was full of unquestionable grief. That look, the grief and fear in her eyes, reminded me of all of the soldiers I’d seen in Iraq who suffered from PTSD. The horrible, gruesome things and traumatic events they’d had to witness during their tours caused them to have nightmarish flashbacks.

“Can you tell me where that is?” I ask hesitantly.

“I’m not sure if she wants anyone there, hun,” Amy’s mother responds with concerned eyes.

“I know she’s stubborn and probably decided to go there by herself, but I need to be there for her. Can you please tell me how to get there?” I’m begging. I need to go to her. I don’t want her to be alone right now. I want her to know that I’m here for her always, no matter what. I’m always her friend first and foremost. Even if she really doesn’t want to be with me, I will still always be there for her. I love her too fucking much.

She grins up at me. “You’re quite convincing when you want to be. I can see why Amy likes you so much.” Her brown eyes warm and soft, soothing my nerves. “The gravesite isn’t that far from here. Benny is buried at St. Richard’s Cemetery. If you head back out onto Eastern Parkway, go south, and St. John’s will be on your right about two miles up the road. Amy is driving her dad’s red pickup truck. You won’t be able to miss her. The cemetery isn’t very big.” She places her petite hand on my shoulder and squeezes gently. “Take care of her, okay? I know my Amy can be a ball-buster, but she really does have a big heart.”

“I know she does. And she can bust my balls any time she wants. I can take it.” A smirk spreads across my face, and Mrs. Jackson smiles back at me in return.

Chapter Thirty-Three

“Avoiding isn’t an option anymore.” - Amy

The warmth of the sun washes over my face as sparkles of sunlight speckle my vision. I slowly walk past the gravestones that line the walkway towards the one place I haven’t been in far too long. I just haven’t had the strength, the ability to do this, but I know it’s something I need to do. Benny deserves at least this much from me.

Benny. Sweet, kind, rambunctious Benny. I miss him so much; my heart aches and threatens to jump from chest whenever I think about him.

I can’t believe it’s been fourteen years since I saw him last.

Saw his toothless smile, his soft brown eyes. Heard his contagious laughter fill my ears. It feels like it was just yesterday that I saw him bounding down the stairs with his superhero cape, pretending he was Batman.

Tears fill my eyes and I take a deep, shuddering breath when I reach his gravesite.

Benjamin Thomas Jackson

April 5
^th
1991- June 1
^st
2001

Precious son and brother

Heaven finally got a superhero

Heaven really did get a superhero
. A small smile grabs my lips, turning the corners up, encouraging me to remember my sweet little brother. Remember the good times I shared with him, the days of our childhood that we spent together. The memories of enjoying holidays with our family, frequent movie nights, and playing outside swirl around in my head. It feels good to think about him. I’m comforted by these memories.

“I can’t believe it’s been fourteen years, Benny. I miss you so much and I find myself thinking about what you’d be doing right now if you were still alive. Probably sweeping some lucky girl off of her feet.” I kneel down and place my palm against the cool marble surface. My fingertips slowly run across the inscription.

“Dad misses you. He talks about you often, little brother. Mom misses you too. Even fourteen years later, things just aren’t the same without you. I’m sorry it took me so long to get here, but at least I’m here. Just because I didn’t visit doesn’t mean I haven’t been thinking about you. I’m always thinking about you. Wishing I could go back in time and change everything, change what happened to you. Change my selfishness and save you.” Tears spill down my face, and it feels like a weight has been lifted, the constant ache in my chest slowly starting to disappear

My lashes sweep down as I close my eyes and lie down next to his grave. My hand rests softly on his gravestone. The heat of the sun beats down on my skin, wrapping me up and keeping me warm. My breathing slows and my muscles relax as I enjoy the peace and quiet. This moment that’s just Benny and me.

A moment that has been a long time coming.

Chapter Thirty-Four

“Can I get an Oorah?!” - James

I spot the red pickup truck parked on the side of the cemetery road and spot her instantly. She’s lying down next to her brother’s grave. I ache for her. My entire body is desperate to rush over to Amy, wrap her up in my arms, and take away her pain. I cut the engine to my Harley and make my way towards her brother’s grave, my boots crunching the gravel with each step. My shadow hovers over her face, and she’s absolutely beautiful in the sunlight. Her brunette hair is splayed out in the grass, her petite hand resting on her brother’s gravestone. Amy’s eyelids flutter open and her gaze locks with mine.

I’m looking down at her, watching her. My emotions are intense with only love and affection for this woman.
My woman
.
My Amy
. She sits up slowly, her hands fidgeting with her yellow sundress. She nervously clears her throat and looks down at the grass, pulling tiny blades out with her small fingers.

“What are you doing here?”

“I just thought I’d stop by and see you.” I smile softly at her, my eyes squint from the illumination of the sun.

“Stop by? Louisville isn’t exactly right up the street from Charlotte.” Her chin lifts a little as she watches me inquisitively, curiosity and puzzlement noticeable on her face.

“I’d drive anywhere, go anywhere, and do anything for you, Amy. Haven’t you figured that out yet?” I peer down at my black boots, sliding my toe through the freshly cut grass, holding back from giving in to the overwhelming urge to lift her into my arms.

After a few moments of silence, her petite form stands up and her fingers lightly brush her dress off. Her attention goes back towards her little brother’s grave.

I stand beside her, smiling down as I read the inscription. “So this is Benny?”

“Benny, this is James. James, this is my little brother, Benny.” She glances over at me, her lips threatening to turn up at the corners.

God, she’s beautiful.

“Nice to meet you, Benny. Has your sister always been this stubborn?” I laugh a little as I steal another glimpse of her, preparing for her kneejerk reaction in regards to my comment about her never-ending obstinacy.

“Hey! Stop being an asshole.” She smiles at me—a full-on actual smile—and my heart fills with more love for her. More love than I ever knew was possible. I need to touch her, feel her next to me. I wrap my arm around her shoulder, tucking her against me, and lightly kiss her forehead. I allow my lips to linger, savoring the feel of her skin.

As I exhale a held breath, I whisper against her forehead, “I missed your laugh, your smile, and your ability to always call me an asshole without batting an eye. You know what I missed the most?” I reluctantly pull my lips away from Amy to find her beholding me with a thousand questions in her big, brown eyes. “
You
. I missed you, Amy.”

“You just saw me yesterday, James.”

“Sweetheart, it only takes a second without your presence and I miss you.” I kiss her forehead gently again. “I had to come see if you were okay and let your obstinate little ass know that you don’t have to do this alone. I’m here for you
always.”

“Okay,” she quietly whispers.

A few moments of quietness pass between us. Then she takes a heavy breath, clearing her throat, visibly preparing herself for something.

“I feel like it was just yesterday. I was the only one home that day with my little brother. I was fifteen, and it was just a few months past Benny’s tenth birthday. I remember him saying “I’m gonna swim my laps, Am,” and then walking out of the sliding glass patio doors with a smile on his beautiful face. A red towel hung over his shoulders and his brown eyes shone with excitement. His chestnut hair hung partially over his eyes. My mother had been pestering him earlier that day about getting a haircut.” Amy pauses for a few beats.