Motown Breakdown (Motown Down #4) (20 page)

“I lost a baby,” she whispers. “I can’t even say his baby or your baby; I just know I lost it. Are you sure you want someone like me?”

Pulling her down toward me, and taking her by the neck I ask her, “Someone who her risked her life to help me? Someone who made me feel shit I’ve never felt before? I challenged a serial killer for you and I refuse to believe any baby you carry is anyone’s but mine. But mama, I’m fucking sorry for the loss.”

“He’s not a serial killer,” she smiles then shifts a little changing the subject. “So I didn’t know Evie was your sister.”

Like I was slapped with a cast iron skillet, I just looked at her and blinked. “Who did you think she was?”

“A woman you loved, not family. I thought that I was a distraction for you,” she whispers. “You never said
my sister Evie
.”

“What?”

“When I asked you who Marco took you said, Evie. Not my sister, Evie. I assumed when you said you loved her, you meant you
loved
her. You know in the biblical sense.”

“The biblical…” I start but then I look at her sitting up fresh from sleep, in my bed and I felt like a king and a pauper at the same time. “Mama, I don’t have shit. I worked to live and to keep Evie dressed, in school, with a car…I got nothing to offer you.”

“Hang on,” she says reaching under the pillow for her phone. “Here, hold your finger on the banking app and tell me what number pops up.” Handing it to me, I hold my finger on it and when I see it all I could do was count the 0s.

“Hit me,” she says pushing up to her knees. “How much do we have?”

“We?” I ask wondering if
she’s
drunk. “
You
have five mill, mama.”

“That’s a good number and it’s tax free,” she smiles. “I don’t care about material things, Crews, never have. I care about you. Now, want to call in to work and have some passports made up?”

“It’s not that easy,” I mumble. “There’s a process…”

“I could have our passports ready by lunch,” she giggles. “Where should we go?”

“Anywhere but Canada,” I say jokingly but then she got serious.

“He came here,” she whispers.

“Last night,” I tell her. “He was here when I got home from work. I figured he was going to kill me, hence the blackout.”

“Wow,” she lets out on a sigh. “Hey Crews?”

“Yeah, mama?”

“He really let me go,” she says sadly. “I hope he meets someone special, someone he can love. Who will love him exactly for who he is. He deserves that.”

I didn’t correct her. How she’s spent all these years with the guy and not believed he loved her is beyond me. There was no doubt that on some level he did. Maybe not how I loved her but when he was here, he was ruined about her. He may be a man to fear but he let her go so she could be happy, he took care of her while she was pregnant with my baby and he set her up with a nest egg. Shade, in my book, was no longer my enemy.

Turning my wrist over she traces the heart on my skin and smiles. “You took my heart with you.”

“Yeah,” I agree. “I was keeping it safe until you came for it.”

“I wanted to run to you,” she says staring at my tattoo. “So badly, I wanted to run. The thought of you being hurt stopped me outside and it stopped me from opening the car door. I could never put you in danger, Crews.”

“I know.”

“Shade knew too, all along and he did what I couldn’t,” she whispers looking up. “He made the decision for me and Crews you need to know, had it not been for him, I wouldn’t have done it.”

“If you’re even half as loyal to me as you were to him, I’d be the luckiest motherfucker in the world.”

“That’s just it,” she says taking my face in her hands. “My loyalty is to you, only you. For as long as you want it.”

“Let’s start with forever,” I say taking her to her back. “Missed you, mama.”

“Missed you too, Crews.”

In the days since I’ve acclimated myself to living with Crews, he’s been nothing short of wonderful. Even having more money than we’d ever spend, he struggled with quitting his job because
a man provides for his woman.
Total-fucking-sweetheart. But neither one of us liked being apart from the other so last night, while he was deep inside of me I said, “You’ve spent half of your life taking care of someone else. It’s time to let me take care of you.”

When his eyes softened he whispered, “That’s your money.”

To which I said, “I didn’t earn it so I say we both start using it to live…together.”

After both of us came and he had some time to think over what I had said, he kissed my shoulder and said, “I’ll put in my notice.”

While he’s finishing his last week at work I’ve done a few of the things I’ve always wanted to do like; decorate with neutral colors, walk around naked, and catch up on my romance novels by my favorite author; Calamity Jayne. With no business to sit in on, no meetings to pretend I was listening to, I was free to be me and that’s where the struggle came in.

Crews though, did his best to help me and together we’ve laughed, went on dates, and had tons of sex. However, once he’s officially done working it will just be the two of us, twenty-four-seven. What if I didn’t have what it took to keep his attention? What if he found me childish and boring? We haven’t discussed the miscarriage or our future, but it was heavy on my heart and something I needed to shore up the guts to do. I told myself I’d do it sooner rather than later.

Twice now Shade has called me asking for relationship advice, which, at first had me confused because I was no expert on the subject. But then when I heard the sincerity and desperation in his voice, I realized whoever she was, he was totally into her and clueless about courting her. Shade was learning that you can’t always take what you want and he did not like it. He was also learning women do not like being told what to do and he did not like that either.

So when he called today, I set my book aside (which I would only do for two people, one was at work and the other had called) which wasn’t easy considering I was Calamity Jayne’s biggest fan, ever (next to Shade that is). Listening to him explain his dilemma had me rolling my eyes and leaving him with two pieces of advice.

“
A wise man once told me
, y
ou can’t keep someone that doesn’t want to be kept.”

His response? “
Whoever told you that is a pussy.
”

“
Is she it for you?
”

“
Yes
.”

“
Would you do anything for her?
”

“
Fuck yes
.”

“
Good
,” I told him proudly. “
Then start by not calling your ex anymore, women don’t like shit like that
.”

His response? “
My ex-wife is a fucking gem
.”

Which brings me to now.

I was head over heels in love with Crews but hadn’t told him, did not know how to tell him. I’ve never told anyone I loved them before and I was scared shitless. What if I ruined it by crying or stuttered? Better yet, what if I said it and he didn’t say it back? I mean, he’s implied it but never said it outright. With dinner in the oven and music playing on his portable speaker, an idea struck. A way to say I love you that was all me, yet also a way to test the preverbal waters. Crews’ text said he’d be home in twenty so I found my song, put it on pause and jumped up on the counter to wait him out. I was nervous but excited, this was a big deal for me and thinking of his reaction pushed the nerves aside filling me with confidence. Because he would come home tired, dirty, with messy hair, and a huge smile knowing I was waiting. Knowing he had someone to come home to.

Headlights yanked me from my thoughts and reaching in the drawer I grab a spatula to use as a microphone. Keys jangled in the door, then I heard his boots being kicked off, followed by him calling for me. Sliding the volume all the way up, I hit play and close my eyes.

I knew the moment he entered the kitchen and any nerves I had vanished. Opening my eyes to the most ruggedly beautiful construction worker ever, I smile at my man before I start dancing. Pulling out a chair, I shimmy him over to sit down while Beyonce sings the first set.

Spinning away and raising the spatula, my part hits and I gave it everything I had.

Baby it’s you

You’re the one I love

You’re the one I need

You’re the only one I see

Strutting around his chair I sing my fool heart out until he yanks me into his lap, flings my spatula and just stares at me while Bey finishes singing for me. Wrapping my arms around his neck, the song finally ends and it was completely quiet. Biting my lip and looking him in the eyes I whispered, “Hi.”

With Luna in my lap looking sweet and uncertain, she bites her perfect little lip and whispers, “Hi.” I was so overcome with emotion I hardly noticed the music even stopped. Because I heard her say I’m the one she loves and the rest was white noise. It didn’t matter she sang like shit, Luna in her own way, finally told me how she felt. I also knew this was not easy for her to do.

“Hi,” I ground out because I had everything I’ve ever wanted right here in my lap and needed a moment to take it in. “Good thing you’ve got money, mama, ‘cause singing ain’t your thing.”

“But you liked it,” she grins.

“Loved it, Luna,” I say kissing her once. “Like I love you.” When her eyes fill up, I wipe away the few that slip free and ask her, “You love me?”

Giving me a nod she buries her face in my chest and after she rides it out she looks up and says, “I love you with all I’ve got, Crews.” Hugging me tight she rests her head on my shoulder and whispers, “When I went to church, I prayed that you would find love and a good woman to make you happy. I never thought she would be me.”

“She was always you,” I promise her.

“God heard me,” she says kissing my neck. “Which means I owe him a favor.”

“You owe God a favor?” I ask because I wasn’t sure that’s how prayers worked.

“Yes,” she says softly. “And as long as it’s not going back to church, I don’t mind squaring up. A favor is a favor.”

“You don’t like church?”

“Well,” she says grinning. “At least not that one. The priest promised me anything I said was between us and God so I let loose.”

“Fuck,” I chuckle. “He probably lit a hundred candles and drank the holy wine after that, mama.”

“They serve wine?” she asks perking up.

“A holy wine,” I offer then frown. “Actually, I’m not sure, I haven’t been to church since my mom’s funeral.”

“Are you Catholic?” she asks tugging on my beard.

“Lutheran, by default,” I admit. “But I know shit about religion, Luna.”

“Then let’s get back to me loving you,” she says kissing me once. “Because really, what’s more important than that?”