Page 91 of Tripped By Love
Cassidy
JUST BY BEING YOU (HALO AND WINGS)
“And I’ll take off my halo, if you take off your wings
You don’t have to be invincible cause I sure ain’t no saint.”
Performed by Steel Magnolia
Written by Cameron / Conroy
I watched Marco as he tenderlytook care of his brother. His big hands that had been all over my body mere hours ago were now gently prodding, trying to provide comfort and healing. It made my heart swell. He was full of grace and forgiveness for everyone but himself. I didn’t know what to do with that, how to help him, especially when he didn’t see himself as needing it. I knew that feeling. I hated when people tried to “fix” me. But Marco had a wound on his soul that hadn’t healed right. Pain that he forced back onto himself every time he started to forget about the past.
“What happened?” Marco asked.
I moved behind them into the brightly colored kitchen, making myself at home in a way I hadn’t been told to but needing to keep busy. I looked in the refrigerator and found it almost empty, which made sense when no one had been there for weeks. But there were enough ingredients for me to make an omelet or two.
“Mel called me before we left Grand Orchard. She was crying and said Artie had hit her…that he’d gotten mad when she wouldn’t…” Jonas looked at me, swallowed hard, and then turned back at Marco. “When she wouldn’t do stuff.”
My stomach flipped, thinking of the beautiful girl at the station who’d been there to bail out the man who’d not only hit her but hit her because she wouldn’t have sex with him. I wanted to rush back to the police station and drag her out with us. To save her… And if I wanted to do that without even knowing her, I couldn’t even imagine how deeply Jonas felt about it. My heart tore a little on his behalf.
Marco looked grim, jaw clenching and unclenching.
“Why didn’t you tell the police?” he asked.
“What the hell would they do? She’s already slept with him. They’re both minors. She just wouldn’t…” His voice was full of anger and disgust, but then he stopped talking with a glance in my direction again. I tried to pretend I wasn’t watching or listening, because I realized my presence was making him reticent to talk. Out of the side of my eye, I saw him make a motion with his hand and mouth, and I felt nauseated as I realized he meant that this Artie guy had tried to force the girl to give him a blow job.
“She came to see you at Maria Carmen’s yesterday, right? Let me guess, you tried to get her to leave him, and instead, she got pissed and stormed out?” Marco asked.
Jonas nodded with a grimace. “Something like that. She said I didn’t understand being driven by passion and love.”
“Hitting someone because they won’t do what you want isn’t love or passion,” Marco said, and my heart soared because Marco was such an honorable man, even if he didn’t see it in himself. “Trying to force someone to do something sexually is one hundred percent about power. It’s the least loving thing you can do.”
Jonas nodded. “I know. I basically told her that, but she said she loved him and that she was just going to let him stew for a few days before she went back to him. I was so…angry, Marco. At her. At him.” He stopped for a moment and then kept going. “I knew he would be at Smokey’s. I just wanted him to know…to know that someone was going to be there to hold him accountable for his actions if he tried it again.”
Marco inhaled sharply. “You walked into a location you knew would be overrun with gang members, Jonas. By yourself. Without a weapon. Fucking hell, you’re lucky to be alive.”
Jonas slumped and grimaced, grasping his side. “I know. It was stupid. Really fucking stupid. I don’t know what came over me. I was just so furious.”
I slid the omelet in front of him and sat down next to him on another barstool.
“Being angry that someone you care about was hurt isn’t stupid, Jonas. Wanting to keep them safe isn’t either, but”—I glanced at Marco—“as I was just telling your brother, we can’t always protect people we love from themselves and the consequences of their actions. We can’t hold ourselves responsible for their choices.”
“She deserves better than this life she’s setting herself up for,” Jonas said sadly, pushing the eggs around but then finally taking a bite. He winced as he chewed.
“Some people can’t see beyond their own flaws enough to realize they deserve more.” I met Marco’s eyes with myown. His jaw clenched as if fighting his instinctive retort where he held himself to some ungodly standard. His arms were crossed against his chest, his stance wide. He looked every inch the military man he’d once been. Every inch the protector he wanted to be.
My eyes strayed to the clock on the microwave behind him, and I realized I needed to call Lance because he was expecting me at his office soon. I pushed myself up, went around the counter, and placed a kiss on Marco’s cheek. “I’m going to make some calls. Let me know if I can help.”
I felt both of their eyes follow me as I left, going back to the living room we’d walked through on our way to the kitchen. I called Lance’s number, explained we’d had a family emergency come up but that I was completely on board. I asked him to send the final contract to Lee and the other lawyers. He seemed thrilled, and I would have been as well if I didn’t have the tension from the other room hovering over me. If I didn’t have Marco’s regrets weighing on my shoulders.
I called Lee and Brady and told them I was going to make the deal, and it lightened my heart to hear how happy they were for me. I asked Brady to finalize the documents we needed in order for me to buy him out of his share of The Golden Heart, and he griped about me paying him back, but I held firm. I needed to do this for myself.
Then, I called my parents and talked with Chevelle for what felt like the hundredth time since I’d left him. He was excited, talking nonstop about the puppy still. It felt like he hadn’t even missed me, which twisted my insides a little but also eased any remaining remorse I’d felt at having left him.
After I hung up, I walked over to the wall below the staircase. It was filled with so many picture frames that it was almost impossible to see the floral wallpaper behind it. There were photos of younger versions of Maliyah and Maria Carmen as well as group shots of the people I’d met briefly at the house the day we’d arrived in Austin. There were also pictures of Maliyah with a host of different children who must have been her foster kids along with ones with just her and Jonas or her and Marco.
My eyes lingered on an image of Marco in his military uniform, smiling and happy, before drifting to one with him, Jonas, and Maliyah in front of a Christmas tree. A lump formed in my throat as I found one of a teenaged Marco with two people who looked just like him: dark hair, tan skin, deep-brown eyes. The three of them had wide smiles on their faces. Marco had his dad’s square chin and his mother’s lush lashes. Even as a young teen, he’d been as tall as his dad, and they’d both towered over his mother.
