Harkham's Corner (Harkham's Series Book 3) (3 page)

“Don’t touch her.
Look
, but that’s all.” Adam’s head followed his every move as he put his hands at his sides.

“I won’t. I’ll be good.” Thomas smirked.

Adam was hit with deja vu. His dad said that to him on more than one occasion—to look and nothing more, and Adam’s answer had always been that he’d be good. He rarely succeeded.

“Yeah, right.” Adam snorted and leaned up against the car, taking on a comfortable position and spot while he monitored him.

“She’s got the fingers of a piano player,” Thomas remarked.

“She’s got the fingers of a girl with a mind of her own. I’m not going to push her to be anything she doesn’t want to be.”

“You’ve changed so much, Adam.” Thomas stood tall.

Adam had a few inches over him, but not much.

Not like Dustin. They were at eye-level with each other and with a similar type of build.

“How would you know? You don’t even know me anymore.” Adam’s eyes looked past him—over his head. This man was stupid if he thought he knew anything at all about his son from forever ago.

“I’ve listened to the things your mom has said, and also to Dustin. They said you used to sound almost immature when you talked—like an emotionally stunted boy. But you’re not a boy at all. You’re a
man
—a man I’m proud to call my son.”

“Don’t say that,” Adam said through gritted teeth. His jaw flexed.

“Then what should I say? That I regret every day how I hurt you, and how I lost years I can never get back with my family? That I killed a child—the only other person I’ve ever loved as much as Sarah? And that somehow, against the odds, he became a much better man than I’ll ever be, without my guidance or help. Do you know what it’s like to kill a baby?”

No! Because I’d never, ever do that. I’m not like you!

Thomas grabbed his arm.

Adam hunched over—the numbers whipping through his mind. He covered his ears and tried to hum.

The hand released him.

“Stop it. You’re hurting him,” Mari said, and he heard her get out of the car.

His dad curled up next to Adam so he was right next to his ear. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to kill a child and know you destroyed who they were? And all because I was such a junkie and such a piss-poor father I had no idea how to deal with you or my wife, or how to help you? All I wanted to do was to protect you, but I didn’t know what I was doing, and I can’t ever take any of it back. I drank until I couldn’t remember any of my family’s names. But I’m through with it. I’m not that man anymore, wallowing and self-obsessed. I’m sorry, and I love you.”

“Adam, get in the car, sweetheart.” Mari’s hands were guiding his shoulders toward the car. The door opened, and somehow he was placed inside.

She had a few words with Thomas outside the car and then Adam was being driven away, the numbers eating his brain raw until Megan woke up and said, “Daddy!”

Then he could see his own world again—the one he’d created for himself without that man back there.

* * *

Mari was really quiet all night long, and she turned away from him when he reached out to stroke her belly.

“What’s wrong?” He nuzzled his nose into her damp hair. He loved it when she showered right before bed.

“Nothing,” she said.

“Tell me,” he insisted.

She heaved herself over so she was facing him. “One of the things I love about you is how honest you are.”

“Yeah, I know.” He stared without blinking. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I feel like you somehow lied to your—to
Thomas
today.”

He grimaced. “I never lied to that man.”

“Adam—did you listen to anything he said at all?”

“Not really. I didn’t want to hear his excuses. He was the reason I suffered.” He grabbed a piece of damp hair and twirled it in his fingers.

She pulled it away, cupped his jaw, forcing him to look at her. “He said he killed a baby, meaning you. He was a junkie.”

“Yeah? So?”

Her eyes lifted, then sunk low. “That doesn’t sound familiar to you?”

“Not really.” His chest tightened, and he wondered if this was what it felt like to be a smoker for years on end—because no matter how hard he tried to drag in air, it was like it fought against his lungs.

She hooked her thumb into her chest. “That’s me. He was describing all the horrible nightmares I went through. Only you forgave
me
.”

“Yeah, because you didn’t do all those rotten things to me.”

“Oh, I see how it is . . . This is an exclusive club, where really I’m forgiven because you didn’t know the person. What if I had killed Zach’s baby, Jill? What then?”

“I don’t know . . . I have to th—”

“And what if I ran away because I could barely live with myself, and the drugs weren’t enough to dull the pain? Not only would I have harmed a kid, but one of the parents, too. He loves your mom more than anything—that’s plain to see. You won’t even consider just listening to what else he has to say?” She licked her lips. “He loves you—that’s plain to see, too. He knew it might hurt you today, that you might have an episode, but he came out there anyway.”

He grabbed her shoulder and shook it a little as he said, “Don’t you see? That was him being selfish—he doesn’t care about me at all.”

“Then why come out there if he didn’t care about you? If he didn’t care about you, then it stands to reason he doesn’t care about Meg either.” She brushed his hand off her and turned back over with great difficulty.

“Your dad’s an older version of me, but less disgusting, because he did it without having sex with tons of people to get a hold of the mind-numbing drugs he needed.”

“Don’t be like this,” he pleaded, tugging at her shoulder.

She rolled her arm to get him off.

“Night,” she said with a sniff.

He knew that sound. She was crying.

He snuggled up to her, kissed with light presses all over her back, shoulder, arm and the nape of her neck.

Somehow she let him make love to her with a slow, caring pace.

He told her over and over how he loved and adored her, and he would’ve forgiven her no matter who she harmed.

It was easy to say that because she hadn’t actually harmed anybody.

But at one point, you thought she had, and it didn’t matter to you . . .

His stomach didn’t sit right with that thought drilling into him.

Mari slept soundly next to him, all worn-out from making love to him and from the emotional release that accompanied the physical one.

He swung his legs out of bed without making a sound, grabbed his phone and padded out into the living room.

Choppy was right behind him.

He dialed the number with shaking hands, and with his breath in his curled up toes. His fingers were ice.

“Hi . . . Adam?” Thomas answered.

Two words he had given his mom repeated in his head. “I’m listening.” Adam exhaled. “This time I’m really ready. So, tell me . . .”

“I can only begin to share a little of the pain, because it’s so deep and never ending. It’ll never go away. All I knew was that every day, I was never good enough. Does that make sense?”

Adam smiled. It was small, but it was there. “I know exactly what that feels like, and it makes so much sense it makes it easier to hear you.”

“This isn’t gonna be pretty,” Thomas warned.

Adam gripped his neck with his free hand. “I married somebody that means more to me than anything, and she knows exactly how you feel. She’s strong and beautiful, and I think that’s probably how Mom sees you, too. Share with me the why, and I’ll share with you the hows—on the way I can love and forgive . . .”

Chapter 2

6 months later…

Adam shifted in his seat, staring at the baby.

“How are we supposed to deal with this?” Mari asked him, staring out the window.

“I don’t know.” Adam shook his head and grabbed blindly for her hand.

His heart was in his throat.

“Maybe I should take the wheel.” Her voice was soft.

He ran his hands across the top and then squeezed at the center. He closed his eyes and gulped in as much air as he could. His pulse was in his ears, and he could barely . . .

The square root of—

“Adam . . . Just stop, honey. Let go. You’re hurting yourself.”

He barely heard her. The numbers swirled in black and white.

“Okay.” But his breathing was ragged, and it
wasn’t
okay.

The numbers grew bigger.

“Ahhhhhh! No! Stop!” He smacked his forehead and clenched his teeth tight.

Why was this happening? Not again!

It had been a year since he’d had an episode.

“Sweetheart, I’m getting out of the car now. I’m going over to your side, and I’m going to collect you out of the car, okay?”

“No!” He opened his eyes and they narrowed at her. “Shit! Shit, shit, shit! I’m a grown man. I can drive my own damn car!”

Soft smacking noises from the baby alerted him to his foul language.

He cringed. “Sorry, Button.”

That’s what he called him, because he had a button nose.

Mari smiled. “Byron’s fine.”

“I can do this. I can do this,” he chanted, squeezing the wheel tighter.

Cars whizzed past them.

“I’m calling Amelia,” she said, pulling out her phone.

He snatched it out of her hands and slammed it into the foot-well behind his seat.

“No! I can’t take it when she looks at me that way, like she expected this. No one should expect me to endanger my family!” Dr. Harkham was
not
the answer. He didn’t need her.

“Adam, it’s okay. She understands. She’s not judging you.” Her eyes softened. She stroked his arm.

“Call it what you want. She expects me to have relapses, and I don’t do that. I
can’t
do that. I’m your husband, and I’m a
man
.” He turned his head to stare out the window.

Men drove by with their women riding in the passenger’s seat. No one look terrified. Their wives or girlfriends weren’t gripping the seat for dear life.

Mari trusted him, and he screwed up.

Why had he answered that stupid phone call?

“I hate him,” Adam began, his nostrils flaring, chest heating.

“I know . . . Do you think he knows that?”

“No. He only sees what he wants.”

“What can I do?” Her hand trailed up his arm to his shoulder.

“You know what to do when I get tense.”

“You want one here?” Her hand trailed down toward his waist.

“Yes. I need it. I’m so angry, the only thing I can do is have your mouth on me and come, so I can drive normal again. Give me one now.” He paused and then remembered he should probably throw in some manners. “Please. I need you to. You always know when I hurt anywhere, and you always make it better. My dick likes that, and so do I.”

She smiled, but her eyes were hesitant.

“If we get caught . . .”

“We won’t. And even if we do, I’ll tell them I’m crazy, since clearly I am.” He blinked and grabbed her hand, leading it down to his zipper.

“What should I say when the cop sees how happy you are and how flushed I am with suspicious moist lips?” She smirked.

“You tell them giving me a ticket because they’re jealous is more than rude, it’s just sad. Do it, Mari. I need you to give me head real good like you always do. I wanna get us back home in one piece. I need you to suck me hard.” He stroked her hand she had settled on his lower abs.

“Okay, but don’t make a habit of this unless we’re parked in our garage.”

He grinned so big his Adam’s apple tugged up toward his chin. “I like the garage.”

“Yes, you’ve told me before. A lot of your fantasies seem to happen in there ever since we bought our house and moved in two weeks ago.”

“I’m a man in there. It’s dark, and the kids don’t go in there. It’s quiet. I can hear you when you’re breathing hard, and it makes me want you more.” He released a tight moan. “I change the oil in the car. I own this car, and my house. That’s what a man does. He owns stuff.” He nodded. “And he fucks—a
lot.
I’m good at that.”

She swallowed. “Yeah, you are, and you do those things. You own all of that, and you own me, too.”

“I rotate tires.”

“You do that really well, sweetheart.”

His heart rate spiked as she glanced down at his lap with a heated look.

“I fix things you don’t know how to.” His fingers on his left hand drummed on the wheel.

“That’s true.”

He pushed her hand down further with his right until she was inching his zipper down.