Thick & Thin (Thin Love, #3)(55)

Accepting that though, was a dangerous thing.

“I’ve never pitied you,” I told him, hoping he couldn’t see how tightly I closed my eyes in the reflection from the patio doors.

“I know.”

“I’ve…I’ve only ever…” I couldn’t say it. Not just yet. Not with the distraction of his touch, the tease of his body heat so close to me. “I’ve…”

And then he deflated my fight completely. “You’ve only ever loved me.” He kissed my neck, pulling me right against him with one arm around my waist. “Right, nani makamae?”

“Ransom…” I couldn’t stop him. Not those lips along my neck. Not those fingers along my ribs. And when I leaned against him, when I didn’t hear anything in that house but the thundering beat of my heart and Ransom’s soft, sweet breath against my skin and then, the low, eager growl when I whispered “shoushou,” that’s when I let him kiss me.

One full minute I was not there, pushed against the glass door with Ransom controlling my mouth, taking my lips, my tongue like they were his personal possessions. I was not there. I flew high, along the crest of desire, of eager, eager need and he took me there, navigated my every thought, all my emotions and I let him, wanted him to possess and control.

One full minute.

There was only his mouth and taste and his greedy, desperate hands touching, gripping on my thighs, pulling me close, keeping me still. I could have stayed in that moment with no thought, no reason. I could have stayed there and only felt what Ransom gave to me willingly.

But that is not what happened.

Not for me.

Not for Ransom.

Not for anyone in that house.





Once, when I was twelve, Mark, Johnny and I were in a car accident. Music Valley Drive in Nashville is a crowded place, particularly at night. Especially on the weekends. The curve along McGavock Pike came at us too soon, while Mark and Johnny bickered over something I can’t remember at all now. Their voices were high, punctuated by the sudden, almost immediate silence that came in the small seconds between insult and the loud screech of metal and glass colliding.

Those moments went by in slow motion. I will never forget it. It felt like a ride on a roller coaster I’d never willingly take. One second Mark and Johnny were yelling, the next the car tire’s screeched, the glass next to me shattered and we toppled over and over. Debris flew all around us. My ball cap fell off my head with the impact of the car rolling; my unzipped backpack flipped upside down, Sun Chips from a half-eaten bag tumbled out around me along with my cap and all that broken glass. It took only seconds for my life to change, then.

Only seconds again, now, as my mother’s violent cursing echoed down the stairs.

“You son of a bitch!”

I didn’t have to look at Aly; we moved together like a dance—me breaking away from her, her holding onto my arm as we flew up the stairs and then Aly was with Makana, holding her back, me taking Koa’s arm when we found my little brother and sister sitting next to our parent’s bedroom looking frightened and utterly confused as angry words continued to pound against that closed door.

“Kunāne, why are they yelling at each other?” I couldn’t take the fear in my little sister’s voice. I couldn’t bear to see the glassy blinks Koa made, fighting to keep himself from crying. They had no idea what this was. Thirteen years our parents were together, living each and every day as though they were a blessing. To Mom and Dad, every day had been a blessing, all of them. They’d been given another chance at the life they wanted together. The life that anger and fear and betrayal had nearly stolen from them. Mack and Koa had only ever seen the good between them. Until now.

“Kunāne,” Mack said again and it only took one nod at Aly from her to understand these kids didn’t need to hear this shit. Aly reached out to pull Mack and Koa toward her. She ushered the children back down to the stairs where the shouting would be less acute.

“I was protecting you! All of us!” Kona shouted back, sounding weak and defeated despite the rise of his tone. “Can’t you see that? Baby, you know I would never…”

“I don’t know shit, you bastard! How could you do this?”

Fear kept me powerless. I closed my eyes, praying that this would come to a quick resolution, debating if I should keep my nose out of this or barge my way through that closed door. Despite the debate, all I could recall in those brief seconds was the memory of my mother being alone. All the times Mark and Johnny tried to get her to go out and the brief times they succeeded only to have Mom return before midnight, sliding in the bed next to me as though she wanted me to know she hadn’t left me, not really. And all the times I lay in my bed, listening to her pray on the other side of those paper thin walls, begging God that she could be happy again. That he would somehow find his way back to us. I’d never asked who that he had been. I only knew the man she prayed for had to be remarkable. He’d have to be to earn her love and loyalty.

But the screams and curses coming from the other side of that door I leaned against sullied those memories. They diminished those prayers. I had my hand on the handle, ready to turn it until their exchange froze me where I stood.

“Is it true?”

“How did you find out?”

“Was I not supposed to?”