by Lisa De Jong
Restrained rage exuded from Chris. After all, this kid looked like he was still a teenager. Otherwise, I didn’t think Chris would have held himself back like he did. “Oh yeah? Well, that’s not what it looked like. Now did it?”
“I didn’t do shit.” Deuce’s breathing was labored under Chris’s weight.
Chris released the pressure a little on Deuce’s throat. “You better hope and pray her story matches yours.” He glanced toward us huddled in the corner. “Did this punk hurt you, Alexis?”
Alexis shook her head. “I’m okay,” she whispered.
With one final shove against Deuce’s neck, Chris drove his point home. “You’re lucky,” he said through clenched teeth.
Releasing Deuce from his grasp, Chris stood up and reached out to Alexis. “You okay?”
She barreled into him, eager for security in his strong arms. He wrapped his arms protectively around her and glared at Deuce who was still lying on the floor, catching his breath.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said as we made our way back outside.
“What about Olivia?” I asked as we settled into the car. I’d climbed into the backseat beside Alexis, who was distraught and trembling.
“She’s spending the night with Briggs,” Alexis said, still very shaken up.
Shocked by Olivia’s complete lack of judgment, I blurted, “So, she brought you here and left you at the party by yourself so she could spend the night with her boyfriend?”
Alexis grimaced, wiping away the smudge mascara beneath her eyes. “It’s complicated, Mom, but basically…yes.”
My mind was boggled, but I was just thankful to have her with me, safe and sound. Teenagers. They thought they were invincible. Alexis was no exception.
The emotions on Chris’s face were unreadable. He drove us back to our house in silence.
Without speaking another word to either of us, he traipsed into the house and disappeared into my bedroom while Alexis and I stood in the living room.
“Please, Alexis,” I begged, “I hate that I even have to, but I’m pulling the mom card here. Never go back to Southside ever again.” I looked at her dead in the eye so she sees how serious I was. “It’s dangerous.”
Alexis shook her head vigorously. “I won’t, Mom. I swear.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, suddenly overcome by mental exhaustion. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
Alexis nodded, but hung her head in shame knowing what a scare she gave us. “Yeah. He didn’t hurt me. He gave me the creeps, but he didn’t hurt me.”
I narrowed my eyes, not sure I should believe her. “He had you against the wall, Alexis.”
She nodded, looking as exhausted as I was. “I know. He kept trying to get me to kiss him. You guys literally showed up the minute he backed me into the corner.”
I pounced on her then, not even caring if she minded. I had my daughter back and I wanted to hold her close. I couldn’t imagine what would’ve happened if she hadn’t called us. Talk about a mother’s worst nightmare. This was it. “I’m so glad we got there when we did. Thank you for calling me.”
“I’m just glad Chris was with you,” she said gratefully, clutching me tighter.
“Me too, honey.” With a new sternness I added, “About Olivia. You tell her that she has twenty-four hours to confess this little fiasco with her mother, or I will. I don’t try to include myself in what other people’s children do, but when it involves my daughter, I make it my business. Do you understand?”
Alexis had never seen me so furious. Wide-eyed with shock, she blurted, “But mom!”
I held up a finger, glaring at her. “No buts! My decision is final.”
She rolled her eyes and huffed, but I knew deep down that she understood the severity of all of this. “Okay,” she mumbled and trudged up the steps.
“I love you, honey,” I called after her. “I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t love you.”
She slumped her shoulders and hung her head shamefully, but didn’t say another word as she disappeared around the corner.
****
I found Chris lying face up on my bed, staring at the ceiling. His eyes were glassy, and his arms were folded across his chest.
I sat down on the bed next to him.
“You all right?” I asked.
He nodded, but said nothing. I stared at him as we sat quietly for several minutes.
Chris finally broke the silence, vocalizing my worst fears. “She could have gotten herself killed out there.”
I gulped, forcing out the mental pictures that had been haunting me since I saw her shoved against the wall in that bedroom. “I know,” I said softly.
“I’m glad we got there when we did. That guy could have…he could have…” Chris couldn’t finish his sentence.
“I know,” I whispered, shutting my eyes tight. Don’t think about it.
His drained voice curled itself around me. “I’ve never been so worried before.”
I lay down and curled up beside him, resting my head on his chest. Listening to the gentle thump of his heart, I whispered, “Me neither.”
Chris wrapped his arms around me. “I don’t know what I would have done if something had happened to her. Tonight made me realize just how much I love both of you.”
“We love you, too,” I whispered, kissing him on the cheek.
We curled up together, clutching each other, thankful Alexis was home safe and sound. Eventually our breaths synchronized, and we both fell asleep in each other’s arms.
****
CHRIS
I listened to quiet sound of Salem’s breath against my chest. Thinking back to the dangerous streets of Southside caused me to shudder beneath her. Things had changed so much in fourteen years. Southside had always been considered the ‘wrong side of the tracks,’ but in the fourteen years since I’d lived there that area had become a cesspool of crack houses and meth labs. Alexis could have been killed.
The thought made the lump in my throat return, but I swallowed it back. Suddenly, I knew what I needed to do. I eased out from under Salem and slipped down the hall in the moonlit shadows toward Alexis’s room.
Quietly, I knocked on the closed door. “Alexis?” I murmured.
“Come in.” I heard her muffled voice through the door. Cracking it open, I saw her leaning back against the headboard of her bed, cradling her laptop across her legs.
“Hey, Chris,” she said, folding the screen down and placing the computer on the floor beside the bed. She slid higher against the headboard and bent her knees up to make room for me to sit down.
I sank down on the foot of the bed, tossing one of the throw pillows onto the Papasan chair in the corner.
“Hey,” I said quietly, looking at her with my need to protect still in overdrive.
She stared at me wide-eyed, reminding me of the sweet innocence she easily could have lost that night.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” I told her, feeling a little self-conscious to be baring my soul to this fourteen-year-old.
She glanced away, embarrassed. “Thanks for coming to get me.”
“Please promise me you’ll never go back to Southside again. I lived there once. It was rough then, but nothing like it is now. It’s dangerous.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” Her voice was full of shame.
I scooted closer, placing my hand on her knee. “You’re a beautiful girl just like your mom, Alexis. I could easily see a jerk like Deuce trying to take advantage of you.” I wanted to a much stronger word to describe Deuce, but thought better of it. “You have to be careful. Trust me…I’ve seen firsthand the damage guys can do to beautiful, sweet, innocent girls like you. I don’t know what I would have done if something had happened to you.”
She stared at her feet silently.
“You know I love you and your mom, right? I’d never want anything to happen to either of you.” I hoped the sincerity in my voice was enough to convince her how serious I was.
Snapping her
head up, she looked me in the eye. “I…I…” Giant tears pooled and clung to her lower lashes.
Leaning toward her, I added, “I hope I can become part of your family someday.” In some ways, I felt like I needed her blessing.
“I…Yeah, that would be good. I think.” Alexis stammered and clutched her knees tight against her chest.
Smiling, I said softly, “Nothing would make me happier.” Standing up, I softly kissed the top of Alexis’s head and tiptoed back to the room where her mother slept.
I slipped into bed with Salem and curled myself around her, finally losing myself to sleep.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
SALEM
Two months had passed since that scary night in Southside. We’d all tried to put it behind us. Business was booming in his recording studio. Our small, sleepy town had been put on the map by King Records, home of Fifth Wheel’s very own Chris King.
Tommy and Jeremy had made several visits to work on their next album. It was fun to sit in on some of their late night sessions. They’d even pulled an all-nighter a time or two. Seeing Chris work, breathing life into the music of his heart, was the most exciting experience. I sat for hours, soaking in the image of him picking out chords and singing his lyrics. Seeing the camaraderie between he and his band mates made my heart soar. I never wanted him to give up music—the very thing that fed his soul.
“What do you say we get out of here this weekend?” he asked me as we lay in bed late one night after a long recording session with Ian Asher, a teenage heartthrob in the making. Ian was one of the new talents who had just signed on as a client at King Records.
“What about Ian?” I asked. “I know you aren’t finished recording him yet.”
He rolled toward me and propped up on one elbow, laying a hand on my exposed hip. “We can be finished by Friday. Alexis is going to her dad’s this weekend. Let’s take off somewhere, just you and me. The break will be nice.” He planted a light kiss on my lips.
I thought about our amazing trip to New York. Getting away would definitely be a nice change of pace. With a spark in my eye, I replied, “Okay. Let’s do it.”
Chris smiled and kissed my forehead. “Great. A weekend getaway it is.”
****
Friday came at a turtle’s pace. I had been packed since Wednesday night, so ready to get out of this town for a few days.
“So where exactly are we going Mister Travel Agent?” I teased Chris as we stood in line to check our bags. He had insisted on making all the arrangements, keeping our final destination a secret.
He gave me a sidelong glance, a little mischief in his eyes. “Ever been to Chicago?”
“Chicago?” I asked, confused. I hoped he was kidding. When he said ‘weekend getaway,’ I automatically assumed somewhere tropical.
“You’re a Bears fan, right?” he teased.
My mouth gaped, horrified. Everyone knew I was a Cheesehead. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope,” he said with a wink.
He’s kidding. We’re not going to Chicago.
I was certain that in Chicago we would be catching our connecting flight to Honolulu or somewhere else beachy, but there was no way we were just going to Chicago. Besides, what’s in Chicago that would be considered a ‘getaway?’ I held onto the hope of traveling somewhere tropical until I realized that there was no connecting flight while Chris guided me to baggage claim in Chicago O’Hare.
“You weren’t kidding, were you?” The feeling of dread overwhelmed me, thinking I’d soon be forced to endure a Bears game.
“I told you I wasn’t,” he laughed. “You’ll love it.”
I chuckled. “I guess there’s no use for a bikini here. It’s not nearly warm enough.”
“I’m sure there’ll be a hot tub,” he said waggling his eyebrows.
“Ha ha,” I retorted, grabbing my suitcase as it rolled past me on the conveyor. But, to be quite honest, Chicago or somewhere tropical, it didn’t really matter to me. I just wanted to spend time with Chris. This getaway would be perfect.
****
Once we were checked into the hotel room, Chris told me to get ready quickly. He had reservations for us at eight.
By seven fifteen he was pacing the floors. I was just starting my makeup when Chris came up behind me and slipped his hands around my waist.
He watched me impatiently in the mirror. “No amount of makeup could make you more beautiful than you are right now.”
“Oh stop.” I nudged him with my shoulder. “You’re just trying to push me out the door faster.”
“I’m doing no such thing,” he defended himself in mock horror. Leaning in, he kissed my temple. “This weekend is going to be amazing. I’m just happy to be here with you.”
I smiled at his reflection in the mirror. “You must be reading my mind. Oh, by the way, I grabbed some brochures at check-in. There are some pretty cool places here. Maybe we can decide what to do over dinner.”
“Sounds great. Now let’s get a move on,” he teased, smacking me on the butt.
I squealed then shooed him away as I applied the smoky eyeliner around my eyes. “You can’t rush art,” I joked.
****
Before long, we were heading down the highway on our way to dinner. Chris had rented a luxury town car for the weekend. It felt like we were driving a yacht compared to my little Elantra, but the soft leather seats were so comfortable I could almost camp out there.
Twenty minutes into the trip and I’d almost dozed off. “Where are we going?” I said sleepily from the passenger seat.
“You’ll see,” he said, sounding way too pleased with himself.
I huffed, teasing him. “You like to tease people, huh?” You’ll see. He’d said the same thing when he’d surprised me with his new recording studio back home.
Chris just smiled. “Let’s make it even more fun. Here, put this on.” He handed me a bandana.
“A blindfold?” My eyes widened, looking at the gray fabric, reminded of that sexy trilogy I’d recently read. I shivered at the thought.
Chris smiled, clueless. “Yeah, it will be fun. You know how much I love surprises.”
“Okay,” I said, skeptical. I tied the bandana around my head and covered my eyes. “I just hope I don’t get carsick.”
“You won’t,” he assured me, rubbing his finger against my thigh. “We’re almost there.”
It felt like we were driving around in circles with the blindfold on my head. I had zero sense of direction, and it certainly didn’t help that Chris’s hand found its way to my inner thigh, softly caressing the exposed skin below the hem of my skirt. I found myself losing my concentration more than once during the trip. Finally, we made the last turn, and Chris stopped the car. As long as we’d been on the road, I knew we couldn’t be in downtown Chicago anymore, unless he’d just been driving around aimlessly.
“Sit here. I’ll come get you,” he whispered. “Don’t take off the blindfold.”
“Okay,” I told him, trying to get my bearings, to no avail. I resisted the urge to cheat and peek out from under the bandana.
Within seconds, he opened the car door and pulled me from the vehicle.
Slipping his arm around my waist, he guided me toward my surprise. “Just a few more steps,” he assured me. His deep, throaty hushed tones sent shivers down my spine.
Excitedly, he held onto my shoulders and directed my feet for their exact placement. Standing behind me, he grasped the blindfold.
“You ready?” he whispered.
“As I’ll ever be,” I said, trembling with excitement.
Removing my blindfold, I opened my eyes. There, standing before me, was the most magnificent sight. A replica of the Leaning Tower of Pisa stood majestically in the middle of a downtown square.
“Chris!” I exclaimed. “Oh my god, it’s…it’s…” I couldn’t find the words.
“It’s where your dad brought you when you were five,” he said softly.
Tears immediately spr
ang to my eyes. I couldn’t believe it. “Oh, Chris, you remembered…This…Oh my god, this is the most amazing gift ever. Thank you!” I threw my arms around him, kissing him like there was no tomorrow.
Chris smiled under my kiss. Pulling away he said, “I figured you couldn’t have imagined all that, so I did some research to find this place. Turns out you didn’t dream that day up with your father after all. It just wasn’t in Italy like you thought. Instead, it was in Niles, Illinois.”
This wonderful man went to such lengths to help me relive a stolen memory in my life. My father had been gone for thirty-three years, but the moment I saw the tower, thoughts of my daddy holding my hand as we stood on the balcony of that beautiful tower flooded my head.
Wiping the tears from my cheeks, I whispered, “Thank you so much. This means so much to me.”
He curled his arm around my waist, turning to look the majestic building. “You’re so welcome. I’d hoped it would.” Chris said softly, clutching me by my waist. “I checked with the city. We can’t go in. The building has been shut down for years, but we can still enjoy dinner.”
I looked around the empty parking lots nearby. We’d managed to drive out of Chicago and end up in a small village town. The site of the leaning tower reminded me of the downtown square back home. Trees were planted and fountains were built, but people were lacking. It was a quaint little area. “Dinner?” I asked, wondering where all the restaurants were.
Chris slid his fingers down my arm and clasped my hand. “Yep,” he said as he led me to a tiny table set for two near the fountain in the square with a perfect view of the beautiful tower. A red checkered tablecloth with a vase full of roses adorned the table. Sliding the chair out for me, Chris motioned me to sit down. “Mia bella signora,” he said, with a gentleman’s bow. “My beautiful lady.”
“Wow,” I whispered. “You did all this for me?”
“And then some,” he said with a smile.
A man carrying a tray approached our table. “Buona sera. Good evening,” he greeted us.
“Buona sera,” Chris responded.
“Vino?” the waiter asked as he placed a wine glass in front of me, pouring a few ounces.