Love Me Like You Mean It Read online

  “You took responsibility for him without even discussing it with me. My kids will be my priority; Jonathan is not mine.”

  “I didn’t know that I needed to ask permission to take care of my nephew when his parents were killed.”

  “I’m out of here. I’m staying at my parents’ house.”

  “You’re leaving me?” I asked him as tears flowed down my cheeks.

  “Yes, I’m done.” He grabbed the bag he had been packing while we argued. I followed him out of the house into the driveway.

  “Am I to choose between my nephew and my husband?” I wrapped my arms around him, but he just kept his arms to his side.

  “Yes,” he whispered into my hair. “I’m sorry, I don’t want to be a parent to a kid who's angry all the time and won’t listen to us. I love you more than I can explain, but you need to figure out what you want your life to be.” He grabbed my arms and plucked them off of him, kissed the top of my head, and drove away in his black Mercedes. I stood there for an hour wishing he would come back, and he never did.

  I’m brought back to the present by the car behind me beeping to inform me the light is green. I wave and apologize even though they can’t hear me.

  My morning is filled with department meetings then my afternoon is in-home meetings. Even though I am thirty minutes early, I need to go over my notes, so I shut off the car once I’m in my spot with my briefcase and coffee in hand and head toward the front doors. The building is your typical office building but once you step inside it’s nowhere near typical.

  Our offices are all glass windows so we can see everything. We have our reception desk and then behind her is a play area for children when we have had to take them from their homes until we find somewhere to place them or if we have a meeting, and the kids come along.

  “Hi, Jill, how are things this morning?” I ask.

  “Moring, Reagan, the day just started so it’s good because you’re the only one here.”

  “I beat Spencer? That’s a first.” I write it on her calendar that I beat my boss here. He’s the one who usually arrives early and stays late. Jill starts laughing at me then swats my hand away. I head into my office and collapse on my chair. I’m already drained, and the first meeting hasn’t started yet.

  I turn on my computer so I can see who my appointments are with and map out my drive time. This is going to be a long day.

  Max

  “Abby, calm down. I promise you that Cash is not cheating on you. Joan is sick, remember? He told you that he was stopping by the hospital. You’re on bed rest, you can’t go with him.” I try to remain calm with her, but it’s the same conversation for a week. Abby’s three months pregnant with my niece or nephew. She’s been having some complications, something about spotting—I tune her out when she talks about blood. The doctor wants her to get to a little further along in her pregnancy before letting her do more, as a precaution.

  I pull my truck into the driveway and notice someone sitting on the porch. I didn’t recognize her.

  “I know all this, but I’m as big as the hotel right now,” Abby says as she sniffles. I can tell that she is crying, and I’m not there yet to comfort her. I have good news to tell her, but I got distracted with her freak out.

  “You’re not as big as the hotel. You are pregnant with precious cargo. Cash loves you and only you. Do I need to call him and pull the big brother card?” She starts laughing and tells me no. “Hey, Abs, I need to go. There’s someone sitting on the porch, can I call you later? Don’t forget that I’ll be there the day after tomorrow.”

  “I can’t wait. I love you.” I can tell by the change in her voice that she was smiling as she told me that she loves me.

  “I love you too. Bye.” I hit the end button on my Bluetooth and take it out of my ear, then I grab the shopping bag from Gap Kids. I can’t help myself. I have two totes full of girl’s and boy’s clothes. I am spoiling this kid, and they are not even here yet. I climb out of the truck and slam the door shut. I have a lot of work to do and don’t really have time for visitors. I look around and notice that Sarah’s mustang isn’t here.

  “Can I help you, ma’am?” I ask as I step onto the porch. The lady’s sitting there with her head down reading a book. I wonder how long she’s been sitting here. She has white blonde hair that is down her back in a braid. She closes her book.

  “Hello. I’m looking for Maxwell Smith. I was told that he resides here.” The tone is something of disgust as she says my name. I don’t remember her, and no one has called me Maxwell Smith in almost twenty years. I look her up and down in her short jean skirt and tight tank top. She has a nice rack for an older woman.

  “Who is looking for him?” I inquire without giving away too many details because I need to feel her out. She pushes her glasses down to reveal the most beautiful gray eyes that I have ever seen. I remember those eyes on the day my entire like came crashing down on me.

  “I am. Is he here or not?” She’s clearly impatient by tapping her foot on the porch. She stands about 5’5”. I bet she broke her nose a lot growing up because it looks like it’s seen better days, and her lips have seen a lot of injections because she has permanent duck lips. I shiver as I stare at them, and she snaps her manicured fingers at me. She’s working my last nerve.

  “I’m Max Stephens, formally Smith. What can I help you with?”

  “You don’t remember me, do you?” She puts her hands on her hips.

  “Felicia Marks,” I mock her.

  “I am afraid that I have some bad news. Your father died.”

  “So, the old man finally croaked? I can’t say that I am saddened by this news. I’m going to the store to buy a cake and throw a party.”

  “You don’t need to act like this, do you?”

  “Why are you here?” It’s my last night here in Pennsylvania before Sarah and I make the drive to Miami to be with Abby. Rob and Aaron will be here soon to help celebrate the sale of the house and our next adventure. Sarah’s been lost without her best friend and sidekick Abby that I’ve been trying to do the best friend older brother duty of hanging with her. I can’t watch another chick flick.

  “I thought that I would come and tell you that he died last night. He had a heart attack.” She puts her hand in her back pocket and pulls out a tissue and wiped a tear.

  “Hot damn, the bastard did have a heart. Who would have thought?” I’m laughing because I really don’t know how I’m supposed to feel right now. She slaps me across the face.

  “Don’t you ever touch me again; do you understand?” I speak those last three words slowly and make sure to pronounce them very clearly so she doesn’t misunderstand. I’m now towering over her as I whip off my shades and throw them to the ground. “I don’t hit girls, but if you touch me again, I will make that exception for you. Understood?” My nose is flaring, hands flexing, and I’m using every ounce of willpower not to knock her on her ass.

  “Here.” She takes an envelope out of her purse and pushes it into my chest. She starts to walk to the car that is parked down the street. She stops to take one more look at me. “It’s a shame that you didn’t die along with your mother.” I jump off the porch and in Felicia’s direction. I see Sarah getting out of her car watching the scene fold in front of her.

  “The bitch isn’t worth it.” Sarah glares at Felicia while she walks to her 2014 bright-yellow Dodge Charger.

  She flips me off as she goes flying past the house, and I can’t resist yelling at her, “Fuckin’ bitch.”

  Sarah laughs and twirls around to look at me.

  “Who was that and what the hell did she want?” She stands there in her blue blazer, white blouse, and blue skirt. I’m uncomfortable so my hands instinctively go right into my pockets as I rock on my heels of my feet. I’ve kept my past in the past. I won’t go into detail with her. No one will know the hell I’ve been through from birth until I moved in with the Stephens.

  “She knew my biological father. He died last night,” I
inform her in the tone that leaves no doubt that I don’t want to discuss it.

  “I’m sorry. I know you don’t like talking about him. What’s in the envelope?” She points to it as I look down on the ground where I dropped it.

  “I don’t know. She gave it to me and left.” I reach down to the ground to pick it up. It’s from some law office three towns over. I groan out loud because I never want to go back to that place. “Let me help you with the food.” I need to change the subject fast. Sarah gives me that look that Abby always gave me when she wasn’t going to let me get away with something. We walk into the house, and I head upstairs to change, throwing the envelope on my dresser. I will look at it later, but right now, I can’t deal with it.

  I change into my basketball shorts and sneakers and jog down the steps to head to the finished basement. When I first moved into this house, it was with a couple of guys I met through an online ad, and we made the basement into a gym. We were three guys who were heavily into sports and looking good for the ladies. I decided to buy the house the summer before my senior year. Abby and Sarah were moving in with me while they attended school, so the guys, Seth, and David, still come by to use the gym. I put my phone into the speaker dock while I head over to the punching bag. I’m putting my boxing gloves on while I play that conversation with Felicia through my mind.

  Reagan

  Shutting off my beat-up Honda Civic, I get a glimpse of the time. “Shit,” I mutter. I’m running thirty minutes late to meeting with Nicarra, and she’s blowing up my phone to let me know that I am late. I try calling her, but she won’t pick up, and I refuse to text and drive. I send her a text to let her know that I’ll be there shortly.

  Me: Bad case, getting Jonathan now

  Nic: About damn time

  I chuckle as I toss my cell phone into my purse while I take the steps two at a time to get to my apartment to change. I wasn’t paying attention as I ran into a hard chest, which belongs to my creepy neighbor, Chad, who smells of Spam and Funyuns.

  “Oh, sorry, Chad.”

  I keep my head down trying to avoid eye contact. Chad Rollins is a forty-five-year-old single, never married man who moved in about two years ago. Chad’s blonde, wavy hair and blue eyes make him almost normal until you make eye contact with him or he starts talking. His eyes have become so bloodshot and crazy, undressing me with his eyes. Chad smirks as he looks at me like I’m naked. Every encounter with him makes me take a shower right after—I always feel dirty. I try to walk away from him, but he grabs my arm. I went from looking at his hand to his face.

  “Woah, Sweet Cheeks. Where are you headed in such a hurry?” He looks me up and down. He stops at my chest, and I see what he’s staring at. My button on my white blouse popped open on my run up the stairs so he got a full view of the top of breasts. I pull my suit jacket tight around me.

  “Dinner plans, already running late.” I try to get out of his grasp, but he just grips harder making it tight, feeling like a blood pressure cuff on my upper arm.

  “Sweet Cheeks, when are you going to go out with me?” he slurs, smelling of cheap beer. My response in my head is, “Not even if you were the last man on Earth,” but I know that will set him off even more.

  “Chad, you seem like a nice guy, but the answer is never. Now, I need to go.” I can’t move, and I’m starting to get nervous so I keep looking around for anyone below for me to yell for help.

  “Why must you be so damn difficult? You’re such a fucking tease, parading around in your short skirts, barely-there shorts, and tight shirts.” He motions to my outfit. “One of these days, someone is going to knock you off your high horse.” He was leaning into me, and his breath was making me gag, “I hope that it’ll be me.” He smirks. I’m trying to fight back the tears that are burning my eyes. I can’t show him weakness.

  “Did you threaten me?” My voice sounds shaky instead of strong like it sounded in my head.

  “No threat just a promise.” As he releases me, Chad shoves me lightly. I lose my footing and my body hits the rails. I cry out in pain with the contact. Chad whistles “Dixie” walking back to his apartment as I stand there, my shoulders starting to shake as the tears start to fall.

  “If you ever touch her, talk to her, or threaten her again, I’ll end your life. Do you understand me?” The stranger’s voice is calm, deep, and threatening as he holds Chad by the scruff of his t-shirt and lifts Chad off the ground. “Do you understand me?” the stranger repeats himself again, his tone slow and angry.

  “Yes,” Chad squeaks. I notice Jonathan standing in the doorway, watching this whole scene. I don’t know how long he has been there. I sprint to the apartment to shield him from it. The stranger releases Chad and motions for him to go into his apartment, but not before staring at me while licking his lips. The stranger turns to me with such sad brown eyes.

  “Thank you, that douchebag is always coming on to her and never takes no for an answer. I’m Jonathan.” Jonathan puts his hands out to shake the hand of the stranger who is taken back at the gesture. He takes Jonathan’s hand and smiles but doesn’t reach his eyes.

  “I hate seeing anyone being treated like that. My sister would never let me live it down if she knew that I didn’t do anything.” He releases Jonathan’s hand as he starts walking toward the apartment next to ours and Jonathan nudges me.

  “I’m sorry, thank you,” I rush out. “He’s been like that since he moved in, but today was the first day that he actually put his hands on me.”

  “Like I said—” he makes sure to look at Jonathan “—a man should never put his hands on a woman to bring her pain.” His eyes meet mine. “Unless it’s for pleasure.” The stranger’s eyes twinkle, and I can feel my face getting red with a blush. “I’m moving in next door. If either one of you need anything, bang on the wall or knock on the door.” With those parting words, he leaves. I watch him open his door, then he turns and sees me watching him. I wave as I go into my apartment and shut the door.

  “Jonathan, finish up what you’re doing. I need to shower Chad off of me,” I inform him as I hop in the shower. He yells back that he is just watching ESPN. I take a quick shower not wetting my hair, and as I towel off, I hear Jonathan talking to someone.

  “Aunt Reagan is finishing up in the shower. Chad pulled his shit with her, but this time, he grabbed her arm, and I mean tight. Yeah, she is fine thanks to the new neighbor who had a nice talk with him. Aunt Reagan has a bruise on her arm but not sure of her back when he shoved her. Oh, the water just stopped so we’ll be out of here in like ten to fifteen minutes. Bye, Aunt Nicky.” He’s laughing as he disconnects the phone. She hates being called Nicky. He goes back to yelling at whatever game he is watching. I run to my room to get dressed; I wear a big fluffy yellow robe that goes to my ankles but still feel weird about walking to my room from the bathroom.

  I remember Jonathan’s words about my back so I walk over to my floor-length mirror looking at every angle. I have a nice handprint bruise forming on my arm where he grabbed and tightened it, but when I turn to see my back, I have a line that is starting to bruise where I hit the railing. I wince at the pain when I touch it. Grabbing a pair of jean shorts and a short-sleeve, green t-shirt, I look at myself in the mirror remembering Chad’s words. “Do I tease? Do I send the wrong message to guys?” I shake my head to get him out of my head.

  “Ready to go?” I ask Jonathan as I’m putting my gold hoop earrings in and pull my hair out of the bun to let my long, brown hair flow down to the middle of my back. Jonathan shuts the TV off as he jumps over the couch to open the front door. “Such a gentleman.” He locks up, and we head to Pizza Palace.

  We arrive an hour and a half late, but Nic’s boys are happy to be here longer to play the arcade games. I grab my wallet as we walk in to see they aren’t that busy tonight which is good because I don’t feel like running into a lot of people that I know. I pull out a twenty-dollar bill and hand it to Jonathan.

  “Get quarters for you and the boys.
You run out, come find me not Aunt Nic.” I motion to the hostess that I see my party.

  Pizza Palace has been around since I was a teenager. There are about fifty tables, a mix of round ones and booths. It’s a fun family atmosphere that doesn’t serve alcohol, which I think is a mistake because the parents could really use it with all the sounds coming from the games and kids. The other half of the Palace has every arcade game that you can imagine. I think this restaurant is the only one that still has Pac-Man. It reminds me of the fair games with some old pinball games that I had growing up. It’s a great mix for everyone. When I was a teenager, every Friday night we came to this place. Kennedy, Nicarra, Shawn, once in a while Cash, and myself would come here and spend probably fifty bucks on games alone. I sigh as I watch the room before sitting in the same booth that we had every Friday night.

  “Uh oh, someone thinking something heavy?” Nicarra comments me with her right eyebrow up trying to do the “People’s Eyebrow” from The Rock.

  “I was just thinking about when we were teenagers with Kennedy. I had that dream again.” I frown at her.

  “I’m sorry, sweets.” She grabs my hands into hers and squeezes, knowing that she understands.

  “I’m sorry that we’re so late. I had a bad case that lasted all afternoon then the thing with Chad plus Don called me.” I order a Coke with a shot of cherry as Nic orders the usual: three large pizzas and two orders of breadsticks.

  “Did you say that Don called you?” She rolls her eyes. She was never a fan of his from the moment we got married. When we were dating, she liked him, but that was it. I proceed to tell her about the conversation.

  “I can’t say that I’m sorry to see the loser leave, so this means you can finally get over him and on with your life.” I glare at her. I married Don shortly after Kennedy was killed. I had thought he saved me from myself, but after six months of marriage, he decided that he couldn’t play house. Jonathan was in therapy for three years before Don started coming around and being the fun uncle. I’m thankful that Jonathan has had a lot of male influences in his life growing up—Cash, Shawn, and Don. I couldn’t ask for better role models, especially with Cash and Shawn.