Jagged

Epilogue

Everything

Three months later…

“But I’m not crazy!”

I shouted this and Zander, lying beside me in the dark on a blanket over the snow on Xenia’s grave, jumped a mile and gave out a strangled scream.

I’d just told him one of Xenia’s doozies, a scary story that was the best of all her scary stories, with the kill line being the one I’d just delivered.

I knew it was a weird, me and my nephew out at night in the cold dark lying on my sister’s grave.

I also didn’t care.

I wanted her with us and this was as good as we were both going to get.

Anyway, Zander thought it was awesome. I’d heard him with his friends when he didn’t think I could hear and he told them I was the coolest aunt ever, primarily because I was crazy and part of this craziness was me taking him to his mom’s grave at night, this being something all his friends thought was totally weird and therefore awesome.

Since Xenia’s memorial, Ham and I saw Zander and Aunt Wilona frequently. We went to their place for dinner, they came to ours, and Zander came often, Aunt Wilona dropping him or Ham and I picking him up so he could hang, watch movies, go out to movies with us, or whatever.

And we’d had Zander and his friends over for two sleepovers and, as I mentioned, his friends thought I was awesome because I was crazy. But they thought Ham was awesome because he was big and scary, had a bike, worked at a bar, and exuded such badass awesomeness that any nine year-old-boy would appreciate it.

Zander and I were both on our backs and when he screamed, I turned to my side and got up on my forearm.

“I got ya,” I stated the obvious, smiling at him through the dark.

“Yeah,” he replied, pushing up to both his forearms in the blanket behind him and I could see his smile lit by moonlight. “That was a good one.”

“I always get ya,” I reminded him.

“One of these times, you won’t get me,” he returned.

I knew he was right. I’d run out of stories or he’d grow up and not be so easy to scare.

But we had this now. What Xenia gave to me, telling me these stories, I gave to her son because she couldn’t. And I thanked God every Sunday at church, dragging myself and Ham there even if we worked the shift the night before, in order to do it.

“Tomorrow’s gonna be killer,” Zander stated and I focused back on him.

He was right. Tomorrow was going to be killer.

Because tomorrow, in a small ceremony officiated in the church by Pastor Williams, followed by a party in a function room at The Rooster, I was marrying Ham.

“Totally,” I agreed.

“It’s cool Uncle Reece asked me to be a groomsman. He barely knows me.”

I agreed, absolutely. It was cool.

When Ham told me he was going to ask Zander, I’d had to fight back tears. Then I jumped his bones.

I figured Ham asked Zander because he liked Zander a whole lot. I also figured he did this so I could have part of my sister standing up with us.

Yes, still, every day in every way I was falling deeper in love with my man.

“He’s gettin’ to know you and what he knows, he likes,” I shared. “And you mean a lot to me so I think it’s way cool, and we’re both glad you said yes.”

“That’s awesome,” Zander whispered in a way I knew he definitely thought it was awesome.

Suffice it to say, I was right on our first meeting. With Dad the only man in Zander’s life, not around a lot, and when he was, not in good ways, Zander was sucking up all he could of Ham. And Ham did not mind at all. Each time they saw each other, they got tighter and tighter.

I loved it and what I loved even more was that Aunt Wilona loved it as well. Any hesitancy she might have had with Ham, she lost the day of Xenia’s memorial. But we’d all been growing close, and it wasn’t hard to read she was relieved and grateful that her boy had a good man in his life. Finally.

“Seein’ as I have to be all gussied up and to the church on time tomorrow, we probably should be gettin’ back,” I told him, even though, to save the drive for them tomorrow, which wasn’t long but we had the space so why not, Aunt Wilona and Zander were spending the night with Ham and me.

Still, I was cold, it was growing late, and I wanted to get my nephew warm and myself back to my man.

“Okay,” Zander mumbled, shifting up to his feet.

He helped me pick up the blanket and shake the snow from it. Then I folded it and tucked it under my arm.

We started to move to my car but Zander glanced back and I stopped when he muttered, “Just a sec,” and moved to Xenia’s tombstone.

The bouquet of blood-red roses that we brought, the newest one since we always brought one to Xenia when we came, had tipped to the side. Zander went down to his knees, righted it, shoving it into the snow and mounding more around it to keep it steady.

I swallowed against a tingle in my throat as he jumped to his feet and came back to me.

“We can go now,” he told me, his head tipped back to catch my eyes.

“All right, darlin’,” I replied softly, lifting a hand to squeeze the back of his neck before I let it drop away.

We walked side-by-side to the car and it had been so long, I had searched for it so often and never got it, I gave up on trying to feel it.

So I missed the light, cool, gentle breeze that followed us to the car.

Two hours later…

“Ham,” I breathed and I did it quietly, since they were probably asleep, but my aunt and nephew were in the house, Ham was driving inside me, and I didn’t want them to hear me coming.

“Love that, baby,” Ham growled, his hips moving faster, harder, driving deep. “Love you, Zara.”

At that, I lifted my head and shoved my face in his neck, my limbs tightening around him, my orgasm searing through me, and with his words came a warmth after the burn that had nothing to do with my climax.

And everything to do with love.

Reece

The next evening…

Reece stood alone at the bar in the function room at The Rooster, his eyes aimed at his wife.

Zara Reece.

Fuck, Zara was his wife. Something he never thought he’d have again. Something he thought he never wanted to have again. Something, in having, it being her, that day Zara taking his name, something he thought was the most precious gift he’d ever received.

Zara was laughing with Nina and a now-showing Mindy. Always damned pretty, today, no doubt about it, his new wife was beautiful.

The ceremony was small, this party the same, but she’d pulled out all the stops when it came to her appearance.

She’d bought a strapless ivory dress that was covered in lace and had shimmering flakes that caught the light. It skimmed her curves and fanned out in a kick with a short train at the back. Her soft hair was curled and pulled up away from her face and neck. Her makeup highlighted every pretty feature on her face. She wore pearls at her ears, neck, and wrist, borrowed from Maybelline, who’d worn the same on her wedding day.

Since his bride was fancy, Reece had bought a new suit and worn a tie.

The tie was long since gone, his ivory shirt opened at the collar, a beer in his hand.

Zara had divested him of his tie in the back of the limousine that took them up to The Rooster and she’d done this about ten minutes before she’d yanked that lacy, shimmering skirt up her hips and climbed on his lap, slid down on his cock, and rode him slow and easy, then hard and rough until they both found it.

The Rooster was damned good food and worth the long, one-hour drive to get there.

Still, that night in their limousine, his wife riding his cock, wearing her wedding gown, smelling good, looking better, feeling fucking great, and bearing his name, Reece wouldn’t have minded that drive being a fuckuva lot longer.

Zara might be ticked off, but although there were arrangements of red and ivory roses on the tables, a three-tiered wedding cake they’d eventually get to cutting, and a DJ, this was not a formal reception.

This was a party.

None of that traditional stuff, speeches, special dances, and bouquet and garter throwing.

Just booze, food, good friends, good music, and good times.

Easy.

Reece watched and felt his lips curve up as he did so when Nina said something that made Zara laugh. His lips curved deeper when Wilona approached and, without hesitation, still laughing, his wife slid her arm around her aunt’s waist and pulled her close, Wilona returning the favor and smiling at her niece.

Tearing his eyes from her, they drifted across the room to see Zara’s maternal aunts chatting and smiling with Zander. Zara’s mother wasn’t there, wasn’t invited, but when Zara had called her mother’s sisters, told them Amy Cinders would not be invited but asked them to come, they said they wouldn’t miss it for the world.

He looked back at his wife.

His girl lost her sister, never had a mother or father to speak of, and it might have taken her a while, but she finally got herself a family.

“Took a gol’ darned long time but does a body good to see that.”

Reece’s head turned at these words and he looked down at Jimmy Cotton who had his eyes aimed Zara’s way.

“Agreed,” Reece murmured and Cotton looked at him.

“’Spose congratulations are in order,” Cotton grumbled in a way that said he’d give them but he didn’t like it. Then again, the man grumbled out of habit so Reece took no offense.

“Seein’ as I’m wearin’ this fuckin’ suit and my woman’s in a dress that cost a shitload more than our TV, yeah,” Reece agreed.

Cotton’s lips twitched and, his fingers wrapped around a bottle of beer, he settled in beside Reece.

Reece stayed silent and waited. Maybelline and Wanda had given their approval of his being in Zara’s life. His girl had told him so. Arlene did the same, showing it grumpily but still hilariously.

In the past few months, not around often but around, Cotton had not. And now the man, who never looked in a good mood and rarely acted like he was in one, seemed the same.

“Hear things are still a bit tied up,” Cotton noted, and if Reece knew where Cotton was going with this comment, he also knew Cotton wasn’t wrong.

Nina had been able to get a judge to schedule a hearing so they could unfreeze the accounts in order to access some of the money to continue to give Wilona the funds to keep Zander and to pay his tuition. But they hadn’t yet had a judge hear their full suit.

Seeing as Xavier’s case was weak, he had no money and was currently out on bond, awaiting trial for assault and trespass, and he was a jackass to boot, he’d been unable to find legal representation. That and the fact he had no leg to stand on meant he’d eventually lose. They just needed to wait it out. But the trial was now scheduled and although it was several months away, Xavier’s criminal trial coming fast on its heels, their wait had an end.

And even if he was stubbornly declaring his innocence for whatever twisted reason the man would do that, considering the number of witnesses he had to the acts he perpetrated in the home Reece gave Zara, Xavier was going down. This meant, in the coming months, he’d see jail time. Even if it wasn’t much, it was something.

And he’d lose everything.

Nina was not backing down and she was going after everything they owned as well as Dahlia Cinders, who’d put her house on the market but left town, whereabouts unknown until Nina’s investigator found her living in an apartment in Denver.

As a recipient of stolen funds she fully knew were stolen, Dahlia had been named in the lawsuit.

And she might try to escape but Nina didn’t let any shit slide. She wasn’t getting away.

And she’d be going down, too.

In other words, Nina Maxwell did as asked. It hadn’t happened yet but when all was said and done, Xavier Cinders would be broken, homeless, cleaned out, an ex-con, and lucky if he landed in an unsafe studio apartment. And she’d one-upped this by making moves to bury Dahlia Cinders, too.

Absolutely worth every cent of their monthly payments to Nina’s firm, the balance of which would be easily paid off when Zara got what she was entitled to. And Wilona and Zander wouldn’t have to worry as Nina was acting on their behalf as well and half of the money to be won would be put in trust for Zander but accessible by Zara in order to help Wilona keep him and educate him.

By all reports, even if he hadn’t seen the woman, Amy Cinders was a mess.

That wasn’t his problem nor was it his wife’s. Reece knew Zara struggled with it but he also knew she always found her way and she would with this.

Amy had not reached out. Amy had made her choice. And Amy had to live with that choice. If she someday reached out, that would yet again be something his woman would have to struggle with. But if that happened, she’d find her way with that, too.

“It’ll get sorted,” Reece responded to Cotton’s remark and Cotton grunted his agreement, then verbalized it.

“Nina pulls no punches.”

“Nope,” Reece agreed.

“Spitfire,” Cotton noted about Nina.

“Yep,” Reece agreed.

“Keeps Max on his toes,” Cotton noted.

Reece’s eyes went to Max, who had a toddler attached to his hip and was smiling at something Mick Shaughnessy said. But not unusually, even listening to Mick, Reece watched as Max’s eyes slid to his wife and his smile stayed firmly in place.

“And he loves every fuckin’ second,” Reece murmured.

“That’s the truth,” Cotton replied.

They both watched Zara break away from Nina, Wilona, and Mindy and move toward the DJ.

“’Spect she’s up to somethin’,” Cotton remarked as Zara smiled at the DJ and the DJ nodded his head.

“Probably,” Reece said.

“Then I best say this fast, seein’ as I don’t got a lot of time.”

Reece tipped his eyes down to the man and said nothing.

“Didn’t know about you,” Cotton stated. “Warned your girl to be careful. See I shouldn’t have bothered. Her Daddy may be a snake, but all the poison he injected in her didn’t make her blind and in pain like it did her sister. Always knew that, good kid who grew up to a good woman, loving, hard-workin’, kind. So I shouldn’t have worried.”

It didn’t make Reece happy the man had warned his girl about him but seeing as she’d slid a band on his finger that day and he’d done the same with her, he let that slide and simply replied, “No, you shouldn’t have.”

Cotton nodded, then declared, “So now, I’m just gonna say, I’m still gonna watch, keep my eye on you. See, this life, the way it goes, usually you get the better then you get the worse. But for you two, you got the worse and now you get the better. And, I gotta admit, I’m sure gonna enjoy watchin’ that.”

Before Reece could respond, over the microphone the DJ asked, “Could I ask Graham Reece to join his wife on the dance floor?”

“Fuck,” Reece muttered and Cotton grinned.

“A groom’s lot, havin’ his bride make a spectacle of him durin’ their big day. You’ve had it easy. You just got the spectacle at the church and this one to get through.”

“Thought I’d get away without this shit,” Reece replied.

“None of us do, boy. But she gets somethin’ outta it. No clue what, but she does so it’s worth it.”

Unfortunately, it was.

“Yo! Bruiser!” Zara, standing alone on the dance floor, hands on her hips and smiling, shouted his way.

“Go,” Cotton whispered. “Walk to your wife, leavin’ behind the worse, and meetin’ the better on that dance floor.”

Reece held his eyes.

Then he jerked up his chin and moved to his wife, leaving the worse behind and joining the better on the dance floor.

Zara

Thirty seconds later…

The piano intro to The Zac Brown Band’s “Colder Weather” began as Ham pulled me into his arms.

“I just had to,” I whispered in his ear as my arms slid around his shoulders. “It says it all. But, just to say, I sure am glad you got out of colder weather.”

Ham made no reply. He just held me close and started swaying. Maybe he was listening to the words (at least I hoped so). Maybe he was just putting up with me.

As our friends and family looked on, I stood in my wedding gown, swayed in my husband’s arms, and I knew Ham was listening to the words and not just putting up with me when his arms got super-tight and his cheek slid down and pressed to mine.

My eyes unseeing on the ceiling, everything that was me focused on my man’s big bearness engulfing me. Dominating me. Making me feel safe as the song flowed around us, his warmth beating into me, his cheek pressed to the softness of mine. I reveled in the feeling of being where Ham promised me I’d be and knowing my man was no longer stuck in colder weather.

Cookie, pay attention. I’m gonna give you everything.

That was what Ham had promised.

And, since that day, and even before, that was what Ham delivered.

When the song began to die away, my lips close to his ear, as I’d planned for that very moment since I found out two days before, I gave that feeling to Ham.

“Just thought you’d wanna know, baby,” I whispered. “I’m pregnant.”

The song died away but Ham didn’t move. Not an inch. Not even to twitch. He just held me close, tight, his cheek pressed to mine as the song ended and silence surrounded us.

And that felt so good, it would take a moment before I felt it.

When I did, I knew I was wrong, as I’d been wrong day in and day out from the day Ham told me he loved me.

I didn’t have everything.

Because, if you worked hard for it, if you didn’t give up, even when you found your way and you thought you had everything, life found a way to give you more.

And I knew this when I felt the wet coming from Ham’s eyes gliding along my cheek.

And I again had more.

Thirty-two hours later…

Outside the bungalow with its big windows open, the breeze wafting through the filmy curtains, if you walked through the heat of the sun beating on the soft sand and out into the cool, blue water, all the way up to your neck, and you looked down, you could see your feet as plain as if you were standing on shore.

The couple in the bed in the bungalow hadn’t experienced this yet.

They were sleeping. The big bear of a dark-haired man on his side, his small, blonde woman tucked close in the curve of his body.

But even in slumber, his big, calloused hand with the wide, platinum wedding band on his ring finger rested lightly, splayed wide on her belly.

And he appreciated the soft silk of her hair.

Seeing as he had his face buried in it.

One year, five months later…

Outside the apartment with its arched windows wide open, over the tile-floored balcony, down a story, the gondoliers glided their gondolas gracefully through the canals.

But the family in the bed in the bedroom of the apartment hadn’t experienced this yet.

They were sleeping. The big bear of a dark-haired man on his side, his small, blonde woman tucked close in the curve of his body, their baby boy tucked close to her belly.

But even in slumber, his big, calloused hand with the wide, platinum wedding band on his ring finger rested lightly, splayed wide on his son’s diapered behind.

And he appreciated the beauty of what lay in that bed.

Seeing as he slept the peaceful, dreamless sleep of a man who had everything.