Deep (Stage Dive 4)
Page 38I nodded, unable to face her just yet.
“What,” asked Mal, eyes full of confusion. “What are you two talking about?”
Jimmy snorted. A moment later, his brother did much the same. At least Ev and Lena managed to keep the bulk of their reaction on the inside. They were nice girls.
I’d never needed to know that my sister was a screamer. Never. That Mal was a screamer too just kind of confused me. If only you could have memories bleached from your brain. What an extraordinarily useful thing it would be.
“Pumpkin? Explain.”
Anne pulled Mal in close and whispered in his ear. Then Mal started snickering.
“It’s not funny,” said Anne.
“It kind of is.”
She shook her head, arms crossed over her chest.
“Lord of the Sex strikes again!”
“Shuddup.”
Huge grin in place, Mal smacked a kiss on her lips.
“So you got caught up on sleep okay?” Ben asked, ignoring their carrying on.
“Yes. Thanks.”
“We better get some breakfast into you. What do you feel like?”
“You got it.”
His gaze fell to my waist, then his hand followed, tentatively covering my bump. It was still early days in Bean world. The bump might have been caused as much by bad posture as anything. But I knew she was in there, growing and doing her thing. Magic.
“You mind if I…” he asked.
“It’s fine.”
The palm of his hand warmed my skin, his calloused fingers softly tracing over me, tickling ever so slightly (Turning me on, of course. Gah.) The side of his thumb rubbed gently back and forth, the callus giving me goose bumps. Actually, I’m pretty certain he himself gave me goose bumps. It didn’t even seem to matter what his hands were up to. And I had the worse feeling that I’d missed him this last week. His voice, his presence, all of him. I stared up at his face, spellbound. It came as naturally as breathing, feeling for Ben. Whatever he’d been up to while I was away didn’t even seem to matter just then. How dumb was my heart?
Meanwhile, the silence was starting to make me nervous.
“Fifteen weeks,” I said.
“Wow.” He smiled and I smiled back at him, lost. Same as always.
“Guess I should get dressed.”
“Nah,” he said. “Don’t worry. Come to my room and we’ll order your omelet. You can fill me in on everything over late breakfast.”
“Okay. I’d like that.”
We turned to face the assembled crowd. Every eye was on us—apparently our little conversation had held them enthralled. I’d kind of forgotten we had an audience at all, caught up in the moment.
“Man,” said David, his hand clapping down on Mal’s shoulder. “C’mon.”
“What?” Mal scowled.
“Fuck off, Jimbo.”
Ben let go of my hand, taking a step forward. “They’re right. What’s it going to take?”
With the air of one greatly wounded, Mal turned to Anne. She too nodded, giving him a small smile.
“What I did was wrong. I gave you my word and I should have kept it.” Hands to his sides, Ben faced Mal. “We’ve been friends since we were kids. Never should’ve given you reason to doubt me. I’m sorry.”
“And you got her pregnant,” bit out Mal.
“Yeah. But I’m not saying sorry for that. Never giving my kid cause to think they’re not wanted.”
Mal’s eyes narrowed as he appraised Ben anew.
“This ain’t good for Liz,” Ben said, “getting caught in the shit between us. She doesn’t need the stress.” With a deep breath, Ben held his chin high. “What’s it going to take?”
“Three,” said Mal.
“Not the face.” David moved in closer to the pair. “Agreed?”
“Gotta keep him pretty for the pictures,” said Jimmy.
“Fine.” Mal flexed his wrists, curling his right hand into a fist. “Don’t want to damage these precious hands anyway.”
“Wait!” I rushed forward, comprehension finally dawning. “You are not talking about hitting him. Over my dead body.”
The other women looked resigned, concerned, combinations of both. None of them would interfere, however. It was there in their eyes. Fuck them.
“Ben. No.”
“We need it done with.”
“You are not letting him hit you.”
“Liz—”
“I’m serious!”
“Sweetheart, it’s okay,” he said, eyes gentle but face set. “Calm down. We’ve been friends a long time. You got to let us work this one out our own way.”
Like hell. “Anne, help me!”
My sister just grimaced. “Maybe he’s right. Maybe we need to stay out of it.”
“If this was Mal, would you stay out of it?” The thought of Ben getting hurt, of Mal doing the hurting, and me being the cause … I basically wanted to vomit. “Mal, you lay one finger on him and I swear I am never talking to you again.”
The idiot just rolled his eyes. “Please. I saw the sappy-ass way you just looked at him. He’ll talk you ’round.”
Then, before Ben was ready for it, Mal smashed his fist into the man’s stomach. The breath whooshed out of Ben audibly and I winced. He bent forward, instinctively protecting himself. Without pause, Mal delivered the second blow, a sharp jab to Ben’s side. Ben grunted, rearing back, and Mal slammed him once more in the belly. My own belly contracted in empathy. He’d done it, Mal had really done it.
The silence that followed was stunning. Ben’s harsh breathing filled the room as Mal held his hand out for shaking. It was over.
I’d seen a couple of fights in my life. One particularly nasty one in a backstreet during my wild period. Then of course there was the night my pregnancy had been announced. At least the scent of blood didn’t feature this time. Violence never fixed anything. Mal not waiting until Ben was ready, hitting him before he’d had a chance to brace for the blow, hurting the man I cared (too much) about.… Emotion tangled me up, turning me inside out. I didn’t know whether to burst into tears or to start beating on things myself.