I felt my b.a.l.l.s draw up tightly against my body and a sharp coil of pleasure suddenly tense, hard at the base of my spine. I wasn't going to last much longer, and from the red in her face and the way she was moving under me, neither was she. I wanted her to come with me inside of her, with me riding her rough and hard, more than I wanted any of the useless s.h.i.t I was so consumed with day in and day out. I wanted to have that unguarded, unfiltered pleasure wash all over me and then I wanted to make her give it to me again and again.

"Avett." I said her name because there weren't any other words that mattered as much in that moment. I felt my c.o.c.k twitch and my heart start to thunder.

Her eyes locked on mine and she moved her other leg up around my waist and pulled her arm out from between the two of us and curled it around my shoulders so that she was wrapped entirely around me. "Quaid."

My name on her lips as she broke apart underneath me whispered across me at the same time an inferno of pleasure ripped through my insides. I came in a rush that followed hers. I came in a blaze that burned away any memory of any girl that was before. I erupted in a stream of satisfaction and completion that left me empty and drained as I collapsed on top of her.

That hadn't been an o.r.g.a.s.m. That had been a reckoning.

I felt the barely there brush of her lips against the side of my face as she breathed into my ear. "I guess at the end of the day it's better to have nothing with the right person than to have everything with the wrong person, isn't it?"

She was absolutely right about that.

CHAPTER 11.

Avett

I still can't believe you have such a giant tattoo." A tattoo that was currently flanked on either side of his flexing and rippling chest by his unb.u.t.toned shirt. He was pulling up a pair of light gray pants, and I wanted to sigh in disappointment when they covered up what was one world-cla.s.s a.s.s. The man looked phenomenal in a suit and I really appreciated how he looked rough and ready in jeans and leather, but where he really shined was when he had nothing on at all.

Without clothes to conceal him or to define him, the real Quaid Jackson couldn't hide. The tattoo that covered up most of his torso stood out bold and defiant on his lightly tanned skin. I grew up around inked men and had always appreciated a well-done piece. His was something special, maybe because it was so unexpected. I think I liked that he had something so outrageously and undeniably traditional marked on him. It made me feel like maybe there was hope for him not to sink even farther into the designer labels and shiny baubles that consumed his life and his s.p.a.ce. I also liked that he had a wicked-looking scar that sat right above his hip and another one that ran lengthwise down his ribs and across his hip. The big one on his side was about twelve inches long, raggedly healed, and made his otherwise perfect body look more normal. He had a flaw, which made me like him even more than I already did. I asked if he got it when he was overseas and all I got was a grunt and a muttered, "I've had it since I was a kid." With the scar and the ma.s.sive amount of ink, Quaid could easily pa.s.s for one of those Instagram guys that had a million followers and had a zillion likes on every image they posted. That much perfection was intimidating, so I was glad that when he was naked every single thing that made him both beautiful and imperfect was on display. And those abs and that a.s.s didn't hurt anything either.

Currently, I was hating that he was covering it all up. All I could do was forlornly watch as he put what I was starting to consider his lawyer costume back on, while I sat on the edge of his bed wearing nothing but his ARMY T-shirt and some seriously tousled-s.e.x hair. He looked down at his bare chest after my outburst and then looked back up at me and shrugged.

"When I was in law school I did an internship for the state attorney general's office. There was this guy there named Alexander Carsten. He had a bunch of tattoo work done that was really impressive. When I pa.s.sed the bar, I decided I needed to do something to commemorate my life finally going in the direction I wanted it to."

I lifted my eyebrows at him. "The tattoo was your big rebellion before you decided to grow up?"

He shook his head sharply and that wayward lock of blond hair that refused to be tamed fell into his pale blue gaze. "No, my act of rebellion was joining the Army. It was the last thing my folks expected me to do." I opened my mouth to ask him what had happened in his family because it was the second time he mentioned them being disappointed in his choice to enlist but he kept going, apparently not wanting to talk about his bitter break from his past. "I made an appointment with Alex's guy, a kid with a purple Mohawk and a pierced lip named Rule Archer. I told him I wanted something that represented where I had been and where I was going. He knocked the design out of the park, so I didn't care that it was this big. Very few people ever see it."

I laughed a little and reached out to pull him closer to me by the belt buckle he had fastened. I started to work on closing the b.u.t.tons on his shirt, but I may have spent more time petting his seriously defined stomach muscles than I did actually helping him get ready. "I actually know Rule pretty well. His older brother, Rome, is the guy my dad sold the bar to. Rome's the guy that had to fire me for stealing from the register." I made a face as I got halfway done with the b.u.t.tons. "He's the guy that's still pretty p.i.s.sed at me and that I need to apologize to. If there's any way I can make it up to him, I need to figure out how to do that. Rome is like the son my dad never had. I can't have him hating me forever."

I sighed and rose to my feet in front of him so I could finish closing the b.u.t.tons. When I got to the ones at the base of his throat I lifted up onto my tiptoes so I could press my lips to the strong cords of his neck before b.u.t.toning him all the way up. I really did like the suit, but I definitely liked him better out of it.

I tilted my face up towards him as he put his hands on either side of my face and used his thumbs to caress my cheeks. We had weathered the emotional storm that pounded against us yesterday, and the calm and quiet of the aftermath was something entirely new to me. I wanted to bask in it, absorb it, and let some of that tranquillity that had sunk into my bones calm the chaos that always seemed to rage and collide inside of me.

"I doubt he hates you. You need to give people the chance to forgive you, Avett. You screw up, but then you throw up a wall and wallow in the blame, so deep and thick that you never give anyone the opportunity to tell you that yes, you made a mistake but that's not the be-all and end-all of things." His fingers moved to my jaw and I wanted to rub my face against his warm hand and gentle touch like a cat. "You accept the consequences of your actions like a champ, now you need to learn to accept the exoneration as well." He was s.e.xy when he spoke lawyer to me.

I'd never thought I deserved to be forgiven, so it never occurred to me that anyone besides my father, the one person that had always loved me unconditionally, would be waiting with a pardon and an open heart after all the damage I was capable of creating. I cleared my throat and forced a weak smile. "What I need to do is let you finish getting ready for work. Are you sure you have time to drop me off at my mom's on your way to court?"

He had offered to let me stay at his place since it was a secure building with a doorman and a security staff, but there was no way I was going to risk breaking or ruining anything in his sw.a.n.ky pad. I was afraid to touch anything, even though he told me no less than ten times to make myself at home and relax. So, since this was as far from home as I could ever be and considering there was no way I was going to relax, I was going to my mom's house and raiding her closet and hopefully burying the hatchet with her while he went to work. He wasn't thrilled with my decision. I think he really wanted me to like his s.p.a.ce and I did, as long as he was in it. Without him in the elegant and tricked-out loft, I felt like an intruder, like the expensive finishes and imported floor knew I didn't deserve the right to use them. It might be entirely irrational but I had no desire to spend the day tucked in one spot because I was afraid the appliances would revolt against me and run me out of the place screaming.

"I told you, I'll make the time to drop you off and I'll make the time to take you shopping afterwards, if you want to go." He lifted a blond eyebrow at me in question.

I'd already told him no. I didn't want him to buy anything for me. Considering how much my family already owed him, the idea of him spending anything else on me made my skin tight and my tummy turn in on itself. It was already going to take a lifetime to pay him back because there was no way I was going to let my dad drain his retirement, on top of losing his home, and all his earthly possessions. I was going to have to figure out a way to pay Quaid back for everything and I wasn't about to add to that tally.

"I told you." I reached out and ran my hand over the front of his pants. I heard him suck in a surprised breath as I palmed his impressive package and gave it a squeeze for good measure. "I'm after what's in your pants, not what's in your wallet, Quaid."

I grinned up at him as the flesh in my grip started to swell and rise into my hand. It was an insanely powerful feeling to know that I could make a man that seemed so collected and controlled react instantaneously to a simple touch. I liked that his composure was nowhere to be found when I put my hands on him. I liked that he didn't think; he simply reacted to me and to how I made him feel.

His thick fingers encircled my wrist and I thought he was going to pull my hand away, but he didn't. He pressed my palm even flatter against the now fully extended length of his c.o.c.k under the fabric of his pants and rubbed it back and forth.

"I'm offering you both." He virtually growled the words at me and when I looked up at him his eyes were almost silver with the way they glowed and lightened as his desire flared to life deep in the depths. He was offering me both, but he didn't understand why, any more than I did.

We were watching each other intently. There was no veil there, no place for either of us to hide anymore. He knew I was a disaster and I knew he was so much more than he seemed to think he was. I hadn't lied to him yet, so I wasn't about to start now.

I moved my other hand to his belt and told him the truth. "I just want you." And in case my words weren't enough to prove it to him, I had no problem showing him.

Eyes still locked together, I pushed him back a step so that I could get on my knees in front of him. I kept waiting for him to tell me to stop-after all, he was due in court, and we did have a schedule to keep. But he didn't utter a peep as I worked the b.u.t.tery leather of his belt loose, and he didn't make a sound as I popped the b.u.t.ton on his pants or when I pulled the zipper down. He also didn't protest when I rubbed my cheek against his hot, cotton-covered flesh as I reached for his black boxer briefs. He did thread his fingers on one hand through my multicolored hair and exhale a breath that sounded like it had every ounce of control he possessed in it. I told him to keep the tails of his meticulously ironed shirt out of my way as I eyed that intimidating bulge.

I kissed each of his hip bones and tickled that s.e.xy V that cut down towards the c.o.c.k I was slowly revealing. The end of my nose brushed through the springy, golden hair that arrowed right at his throbbing flesh and his fingers were rough as they sc.r.a.ped impatiently across my scalp. He was impatient and so was his d.i.c.k. The long and rigid flesh pulsed with its own kind of life and need as it fell into my waiting hands once I had him completely uncovered.

Quaid's c.o.c.k was a lot like the rest of him, graceful in its length and size; if there was such a thing as a well-made d.i.c.k, this was it. It was st.u.r.dy in the way it bobbed happily away from his corded abs and into my eager hands and it was secure in the way it knowingly pulsed and pearled up in antic.i.p.ation with the first swipe of my tongue across the sensitive head.

I swirled my tongue around and around as I tasted him and learned him. I wrapped my fist around the base of his erection and tightened my hold until his hips bucked and he shoved himself into my welcoming mouth. I would have giggled at his impatience, but I'd never had an executive c.o.c.k in my mouth before so I wanted to make sure I had time to savor the experience.

I sucked on him, explored every ridge and detail with my tongue. I bathed the firm flesh in moisture and used my hand to add a different element as he curled a wide palm around the back of my head and started to move my head in the rhythm he wanted. That was the difference between an executive and an intern. An executive showed you what to do; they instructed you in the best and most efficient way to get the job done. An intern showed up with too many questions and inadequate skills.

I'd never had anyone actually f.u.c.k my face before, but that's what Quaid was doing and it was one of the hottest things that had ever happened to me in the bedroom. It was unbelievably arousing to have him being the one that was wild and sweet.

He told me to open wider. He told me to suck him harder. He told me to take more of him in and to squeeze him even harder. But he also told me I was amazing. He told me my mouth felt like a dream. He told me that his hands wrapped up in my pink hair was going to make him blow. He told me he had imagined what I would look like on my knees in front of him for weeks and the reality was so much better. His wild was superhot, but it was his sweet that had me wet and aching between my own legs. If I wasn't so focused on him and so consumed with making this as good as I could for him, I would have slipped my free hand under the T-shirt and gotten myself off while I swallowed as much of him down as I could.

To stay on task and not get distracted by my own sudden and sharp arousal, I skimmed my free hand over the rock-hard curve of his a.s.s and tickled my way between his legs. He swore loudly when I brushed my knuckles across his tautly drawn sac, and because his voice was strained and his hands were getting harder on my head, I could tell he was close. I sucked until my cheeks hollowed out and used the flat of my tongue to lap at the salty moisture that was leaking out of his tip. Even his taste seemed more refined and more palatable than anyone else I had ever been with like this before.

He growled my name above my head as he lost control of his steady motion and began to practically grind himself into my mouth. I cupped the sensitive spheres that hung heavy between his strong thighs in my hands and rolled them lightly across my palms. That was all it took to push him over the edge.

He didn't warn me. He didn't give me the choice to stay or go. He didn't do anything but pull me closer and hold me to him in an almost desperate motion as he pumped into my mouth. He said my name on a long sigh as I moved my hands to either side of his hips and took what he was giving to me.

When he stilled and I pulled back with a smug grin on my face, I thought he was going to tell me that it had been fun but now we needed to haul a.s.s to get back on track for the day. I wasn't expecting him to pull me to my feet or for him to forcibly back me into the bed. His eyes blazed at me with winter-colored fire and I lost all the air in my lungs when he pulled the borrowed T-shirt over my head and made himself at home between my legs.

I was already wet but at the first kiss of his mouth against my tender folds I went torrential. Bringing him pleasure and knowing I was the one that had made him lose control had me at the edge of coming already, so he wasn't going to have to do much to get me the rest of the way there. I moaned at the ceiling and felt no shame in writhing against his working mouth to get some kind of relief for the coiled tension that was tight throughout my entire body. Sucking a guy off had never been such a turn-on. It was my turn to twine my fingers in his thick, blond hair and pull him closer to me as I rode his mouth like it was a carnival ride. When he added his fingers to the party and used his teeth on my already primed c.l.i.t, I burst across his thrusting fingers with a flood of desire that felt like it would never end.

When the heaving chests and racing hearts started to slow, I pushed myself up on my elbows and looked at him as he pulled himself up so that he was standing between my splayed legs as he tucked his shirt into his pants and refastened his belt. He looked a little rumpled and a little s.e.xed up, but in my personal opinion it made the suit that much s.e.xier. He bent over me and braced himself on his hands so that our noses were almost touching.

"Everything in my life is always about who has what or who is trying to get what from someone else. Every day it's who did this or who did that and it gets really f.u.c.king old, Avett. I don't want there to be a set of checks and balances between us."

I gulped a little bit and reached up so I could put a hand on his smoothly shaved cheek. "You know that isn't possible, right? We do not come from the same place."

He narrowed his eyes at me and I shivered at the chill that emanated from them. "Maybe not, but when we're in bed together, we are definitely in the same place. It's not what you have that matters here, and it's not what I have that matters. All that matters is what we have together. Where you've been and what you've done don't exist here and the same goes for me. The only thing that counts is that we're here and what we do while we are in this moment."

I moved my thumb so that I could stroke it across his lower lip. It was still damp and shiny from the very thorough loving he had just bestowed upon me. That was probably the nicest thing anyone had ever said to me, but I knew the truth, and the truth was that everything we did before mattered, and he and I would never be on equal footing, even in bed. He was an executive, and while I wasn't exactly an intern, there was definitely room for upward movement. Whenever I was with him I felt like I was learning something new-about him, about myself, and most definitely about what s.e.x and intimacy could be like, if you weren't using it to hurt.

"You have to get to work and I already made you late." It wasn't what he wanted; I could see that in his eyes as they went a colder shade blue as he pulled himself up and off of me. I didn't have much to offer a man like Quaid Jackson, so the truth was going to have to suffice, even if it made him look at me like he regretted not letting me fire him from the beginning.

"SO THE LAWYER? What's going on there?" My mom's voice was curious but also cautious as she asked me the question. I could see her hoping my answer was that I'd finally found a man that would keep me out of trouble, but the more time I spent with Quaid, in bed and out of it, I realized he was the biggest trouble I had ever waded my way into. The fall when things imploded with him might very well be the end of me.

I barely heard her over the disbelief and wonder that had me stunned stupid and stuck on the spot as I gazed at the bounty of stuff that was covering the small twin bed that had been mine whenever I stayed with her when I was younger. I hadn't been inside of this room since I was a teenager and to see it covered in clothing and essentials from top to bottom had me overwhelmed with emotion.

I had a hand to my throat and was fighting really hard to blink back tears as I turned to look at her. "I can't believe they did this. I can't believe they cared enough to do something so nice after I've been nothing but terrible to them."

There was no need to raid my mom's closet for the bare essentials because all of the girls that belonged to all of my father's boys had shown up in full force with every single thing I would need to survive the loss of everything I owned. There were more clothes than I owned before the fire, some new with visible tags and some worn and comfy looking. There were shoes and socks. There were undergarments that ranged from practical to sa.s.sy. There was stuff that looked soft and welcoming to sleep in. There was makeup and junk for my hair. There was a brush and hair dryer. There was a toothbrush. I hadn't even thought about the fact I would need a toothbrush, until this morning, when I had to use my finger to brush my teeth at Quaid's place.

The girls had gone out of their way to make sure I had a little bit of everything I lost, and I was so touched, so humbled, that I couldn't even function. My mom put her hand on my arm and I looked at her as she smiled at me.

"Your father has a knack for finding the good ones, and those girls ..." She spoke about the wonderful women that had done this for me, and I saw something in her face that I never saw when she talked about me or to me-pride. "They have some of the biggest hearts I've ever seen. They have to in order to put up with those stubborn and wonderful men they chose to love."

I cleared my throat awkwardly, and told her, "I'm not sure how I'll ever be able to thank them for all of this. I feel like it's too much. I don't deserve this type of kindness from any of them."

Her hold on my arm tightened and she pulled me around so that I was facing her. Her eyes, the ones where the green and gold in mine came from, locked intently on my face. "They didn't do it because they wanted your grat.i.tude or because they gave a single thought to whether or not you are worthy of an act of compa.s.sion and caring. They did it because, to them, it was the right thing to do. Your father has stepped in and helped out so many of their young men when they needed some guidance. To those girls this was simply what had to be done." She grinned at me again. "To be fair, they would probably do the same thing for anyone in a dire situation, but the fact that you're Brite's daughter definitely doesn't hurt matters." Her dark eyebrows shot up and the softness on her face faded back to curiosity. "So, the lawyer?"

She shifted gears, but I was stuck on the fact that I had all this stuff and that I wouldn't have to go without, or struggle to replace the bare necessities, all because a group of women that I hardly knew, that owed me nothing, thought it was the right thing to do. I wondered what that felt like. I wondered if knowing what was right felt as warm and as bright as being on the receiving end of that kind of positive action. I was warm, from my head to my toes, and my heart felt so full that it was a miracle it didn't burst right out of my chest. For the first time in a long time, I wanted to deserve something this good. I wanted to be the kind of person that not only knew what the right thing was without thinking about it, but could also do the right thing, so that I could make someone else feel as appreciated and valued as I did in this moment.

"The lawyer is bound to be another in a long line of mistakes, but until we go down in flames, he makes me feel safe and he makes me think. I don't do enough of that usually, and considering the recent circ.u.mstances, thinking is a good thing." I reached up and patted her hand where it was still clutching my arm. "He also knows exactly how screwed up I am and what kind of havoc I can wreak, so I don't feel like I have to warn him or protect him from the inevitable fallout. He's not about to let me ruin the sweet gig he has going on." And maybe that was why I liked him so much. I knew deep down inside that eventually this thing I had going on with Quaid was going to lead to total devastation, but at the end, he would still be standing strong, indestructible, and untouched by the damage I typically caused. To me, the man seemed stormproof, which meant he could survive me, the typhoon of tragedy I was inevitably going to rain down on us.

My mom sighed and let go of me but only so she could reach up and brush the back of her fingers across my cheek. "Oh, Avett. You have no idea how much you remind me of myself when I was your age."

I couldn't hold back the ragged laugh that escaped my lungs at her words. I was here to make peace with her, to start and bridge the gap that had opened wide over my river of bad choices and faults over the years, but her words stung. If we were so alike, how was it so easy for her to desert me when what I needed was for her to pull me closer and not let go? "Oh, really? Did you alienate everyone that loved you, too? Did you constantly disappoint your mother to the point she could barely stand to be in the same room as you? Did you screw up over and over again, f.u.c.k up so many times and so many different things that it seems like all you will ever be is someone else's worst choice?"

I took a step away from her and went to walk around her so that we didn't have to continue the conversation, but I should have known I couldn't throw down the gauntlet and walk away.

She moved around me, and while I got my small stature from her, she was still taller than me and it was obvious from the look on her face that she wasn't about to let me go anywhere. I was tempted to call for my dad, who was on the phone with the insurance company in the office at the front of her house so he could derail this long-coming showdown, but the time had come to own up to all of my sins. Especially the ones that had caused the most damage to the people I cared about most. I wanted to set things right with my mom. I wanted her to know that I was sorry for everything, but I was most sorry for the damage I had done to the relationship between her and my dad. I loved them both, and yet, I had made them both miserable in my quest for self-recrimination.

"Avett," she sighed, and I could literally feel the weight of it as it echoed on the walls around us. "I always wanted you here, but you wanted to be with your father, and considering the way things ended between him and me, well, we both felt like he deserved to have you so much more than I did. Was there tension between us because of the way you suddenly started acting out? Yes, but that wasn't anything we wouldn't have been able to work out if I hadn't screwed up, if I had been a stronger woman and a better wife. Because yes, I disappointed both my parents, not just my mother, and yes, I've often wondered if I was the worst choice your father could've made."

I blinked at her like I had never seen her before and frowned so fiercely it actually hurt my forehead. "What are you talking about, Mom? Things were always fine, great, in fact. We were a picture perfect, happy family, until we weren't." And when they went south it was right around the time I realized exactly how dangerous and life changing doing nothing could be. I took my antics and my acting out to another level as I ran after some kind of celestial payback to make up for what had happened to Autumn.

"We worked really hard to make you believe things were fine, honey. That's what parents who love their children do, even when they are struggling themselves. It got harder and harder to keep our issues from you the older you got. We never saw eye to eye on the best way to handle you, and you and your dad were so close." She made a noise in her throat and shook her head at me. "Your dad was married when we met. I didn't care, but my parents sure did. He was older than me by quite a bit and hadn't quite handled everything he brought back with him from his time overseas. He liked to drink a little too much, and the crowd he ran around with wasn't exactly mom and dad approved. None of that mattered to me, because I was in love with him, instantly. I adored him. I was obsessed with him. I told myself it didn't matter what obstacles stood in our way. We were meant to be together. I didn't respect the life he already had or the woman that already loved him. I met him, decided I wanted him, and was determined to get my way, despite warnings from everyone that cared about me, telling me it was too much, too soon."

None of that was a secret, but the way she spoke about it, the regret in her tone, that was new. She sounded exactly like I did after one of my terrible choices blew up in my face.

"I got pregnant with you before your dad's divorce was final, and while I never had any doubts your dad loved both of us beyond measure, I never could quite get over the fact that I had taken him away from his first wife so easily, especially with everyone always reminding me he had no choice but to leave her once there was a baby. I lived every single day wondering if someone new was going to come along and lure him away from us, exactly as I had done. I wondered if he felt like he had to go. I was jealous. I was untrusting. I was possessive, and for a man like your dad, a man with honor and integrity running all the way down to his bones, it wore on him. He loved me, but after a while my insecurity on top of his own demons was too much for him to take. He started spending more and more time at the bar, and of course I convinced myself he was with other women. He cheated before me and then he cheated to be with me so why wouldn't he cheat on me? At the time I didn't recognize that the love he had for me was different than the love he had for the women that were in his life earlier. I didn't realize having a family and someone he loved more than life to come home to every day had made your father a different man."

I scowled even harder because I didn't remember any kind of tension or strain between them. I couldn't recall any fighting or disagreements. All I could remember was happiness and romance between the two of them. Things were sunshine and rainbows until I was sixteen and then things changed, but I was so caught up in how they changed for me, I never considered why and how things changed for my parents as well. Dad left and I went with him, convinced my mom was fed up with my harmful behaviors and fed up with me.

She held up her hand when I opened my mouth to interrupt her and I saw sadness and heart-wrenching grief fill her eyes. "I convinced myself he was seeing someone else, that he was doing what I accused him of. I never listened to him. I never gave him the benefit of the doubt. I let my own fears and everyone else's poison infect me. What I did was something I had done my entire life, I acted without thinking and decided that if he was going to break my heart by being with someone else, then I was going to do the same thing to him."

I gasped and actually stumbled back in shock. "Mom. You didn't." The words came out like they had been run across sandpaper.

Slowly she nodded; and self-loathing was stamped across her face. "I did and I felt disgusting and ashamed as soon as I realized what kind of damage I had done to my marriage and my family. I had a wonderful husband, a lively, independent daughter, and because of the nontraditional way our family came to be, I never felt worthy of them. I never felt like what we had was good enough to anyone else's standards. I never wanted you to know, Avett. I wanted you to be proud of me, to aspire to be like me, and then I went and did the one thing I knew you and your father could never forgive. I never wanted you to think I was willing to risk you and your dad. I was so repulsed by what I had become I started pulling back from you when you really needed me the most. I could tell something was going on with you because of the way you were suddenly acting out and getting into trouble. I knew deep down inside it was because the stress between your father and me was no longer able to be contained and hidden away. I told your dad about my indiscretion immediately, and at first he agreed to try and work it out. But all the fears I had were amplified tenfold, because now, I had given him a legitimate reason to seek out someone else. Eventually, he couldn't handle the pressure of living under the shadow of my distrust and I couldn't blame him. I also couldn't accept his forgiveness when it was offered, because I didn't think I deserved to be forgiven. We were both miserable and it was clearly affecting you. I let you both go because it was my actions and my defective choices that had pushed you both away in the first place. I felt like I deserved to be alone."

"Jesus, Mom." We were more alike than I had ever realized.

She put her arms around herself like she was giving herself a much needed hug and dropped her gaze from mine. "Your father and I had a long, treacherous road to get to a place where trust was no longer an issue and that we could love each other with nothing between us. Part of that was watching him get remarried and loving someone else, and part of it was him being endlessly loyal and supportive of you. He's never wavered with you, Avett. Not ever. There are times we disagree on the way we should support you, but that's because I've watched you be as reckless and careless with yourself and your love as I was. I wanted things to be easier for you."

I let out a strangled and choking laugh. "They haven't been." Because even with the distance between her and me, watching Dad remarry and divorce before my eighteenth birthday hadn't been easy or fun. She was always my mom and she was always the woman I wanted my dad to be with, because she was the person that made him the happiest.

Quaid had told me the night before that some people were born into the storm and it looked like my mom was also one of them. I came by my chaos naturally. My mayhem was, apparently, part of my genetic code. I literally had been born to be wild, and I'd also been so caught up in my own commotion and on my own path of destruction for so long that I hadn't even noticed there was a storm that had nothing to do with me brewing under my roof.

"I know they haven't been, and I blame myself for not being able to teach you from my mistakes ... believe me, there have been a lot of them."

I slumped back against the wall and ran my hands over my face. "I'm learning that blame is poisonous. Maybe you could have tried harder, and I definitely could have paid better attention, but what's done is done and all we can do is be better from this point forward. Blame has stolen a lot of time and a lot of life from me. I'm really starting to resent it."

I gave her a curious look. "How did Dad forgive you?" My father was a good man, but he was also a bada.s.s, and most bada.s.ses didn't take too kindly to their woman stepping out on them and not having faith in them.

It was my dad's rumbly and deep voice that answered me. "I forgave her because I loved her, always, even when she made mistakes. I forgave her because she wasn't the only one that screwed up. I could have waited until I was separated from the woman I was married to before getting involved with your mom, but I was impatient and thoughtless as to how our actions might affect our relationship down the road. I forgave her because she was the mother of my child and because we both needed forgiveness to heal and move forward, even if we weren't together. Forgiveness is the only way you can be set free. I forgave her because after a lot of time and a lot of trials together, she finally forgave herself. Our story is still being written, Sprite. We haven't reached the end just yet and there was a lot of editing and revision along the way."

I wondered vaguely if he had talked to Asa and if that was his subtle hint that if I could learn to forgive myself, then maybe some of that dead weight of responsibility and guilt that caged me down on rock bottom would be lifted, and I could start that slow and arduous trek towards something better.

I pushed my hands through my still-unruly hair and blew out a breath. As I exhaled, I felt years of culpability escape from my dense conscience. "I'm so happy you guys found your way back to each other."

My dad chuckled in his thunderous way and he reached out to put his arm around my mom's shoulders so he could pull her to his side. "We are, too, because that story has been a long time coming. We wanted to wait until you were in a place to listen, with your head and your heart. We knew if we told you the truth, at the wrong time, it would have you spiraling even more out of control than you already were. You react, Sprite, and while its honest emotion, it isn't always the healthiest response. Now that all the skeletons are out of the closet, I figure it's as good a time as any for this family to be under the same roof. The house is a total loss. The outside brick is still standing, but everything on the inside is gone. It would cost a fortune to go in and rebuild from the ground up, and I think the money coming from the insurance claim could be put to better use."

I let my head fall back so that it thunked against the wall and turned my face up towards the ceiling. "Yeah. Take the money and use it to replace the money you had to take out of your retirement to pay for my bail, and towards the money you're planning on paying Quaid. I'm not going to let you lose your home and your retirement, Dad. I'm going to find a way to pay you back to cover the bill coming from the Legal Eagle."

Both of my parents chuckled at the silly nickname I had labeled him with, and I couldn't fight a grin at how coincidentally perfect it was now that I knew about the eagle he had inked on his perfectly sculpted chest.

They both started to argue about the money and question how I was going to come up with the necessary funds, but it was my turn to hold my hand up and interrupt them.

"Consider this the first step in the right direction. I haven't done many things that felt right in my life but this" -I pointed between us with my finger- "this feels right. Taking complete responsibility, including the financial part of it, for the mess I made is something I have to do if I'm ever going to be able to get to a place where I can live with some of the things I've done." I took a deep breath and shifted my eyes between the both of them. "Speaking of the things I've done and not letting blame and guilt control me anymore, I need to tell you guys my story. I need you to know that the reason I kept s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g up and kept hurting myself had nothing to do with you. I need to tell you all of it, and know that you'll still be here and still love me afterwards."

Maybe then I could accept some of that forgiveness everyone was always throwing around.

Knowing what the right thing was did feel warm. It also felt fizzy and exciting as it bubbled in my blood, even as my parents rea.s.sured me over and over that they were both there to help me. It felt thick and syrupy as it moved through my veins, pushing out all the recrimination and reproach that lived there.

Knowing the right thing to do felt amazing. Now I needed to break all my old habits and actually do what was right, instead of veering off course and nose-diving into the wrong thing. This time, I didn't want to crash and burn; I wanted to soar to new heights.

CHAPTER 12.

Quaid