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I do not own Glee or the characters, neither do I own Reaper's Legacy.
MERCEDES
Braylon slurped down his cereal, hopping around in his chair like a bouncy ball.
"We're going to Uncle Wringer's today, right? Do you think he has Skylanders?" he asked.
"Yup, we're going to Uncle Wringer's. No idea about the Skylanders though. And I wouldn't get my hopes up if I was you," I replied.
My rush of adrenaline had died down, making it harder to sustain any real anger. Instead, I surveyed my studio and finally admitted the truth...
The place was a total shithole. Not only that, but I had no excuse for not putting on the window alarms. They sold them at the Dollar Store, for God's sake.
So that shit I told Sam, was just that...shit.
I didn't like letting him win, but reality was on his side. I was broke, I'd lost my job and I couldn't protect my own child.
Waiting tables hadn't paid enough to support us anyway. But I wouldn't have been working there in the first place if I'd had better offers.
My folks...well, they definitely won't help. I've been dead to them ever since I refused to terminate Bray.
So turning down a safe, free apartment would be insane.
I still wasn't quite ready to forgive Sam, though, intellectually, that didn't make a whole lot of sense.
Sure, he'd been a dick to me. But he'd also dropped everything to drive hundreds of miles to save my son when he'd needed help.
The two should probably balance each other out, if I wanted to be fair. Not only that, he had made a point I couldn't shake...
I really didn't want to do my own dirty work.
He and Stud had assessed the situation, made a tough call, and fixed things.
And that was a huge relief.
Ultimately, I'd gotten mad at him for scaring me, not for scaring Rachel. Well, that and his bullying.
He could've just talked to me about moving to Colorado, instead of playing creeper man in the wee hours of the morning.
"We have to pack before we leave," I said as Bray finished up his cereal. He carried his bowl carefully to the sink, the spoon teetering. "We aren't just going for a visit, you know. We'll be living there for a while. So I'm going to get most of your stuff, but I want you to pick out some jammies and clothes to wear tomorrow, and tuck them in your backpack. You should also grab some books to read in the car, okay?"
"Okay," he replied, dragging his bag out from under his bed. He didn't seem bothered at the thought, which said a lot about our existence.
He'd moved at least once a year his entire life.
I shook my head, feeling the familiar weight of guilt settle over me. Because, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't seem to get things right.
I rinsed out Bray's bowl and put on some coffee. Then I grabbed a box to start packing.
"Want some music?" I asked him.
"My pick?"
"Sure," I said, handing him my phone.
He plugged it into our little speaker set like an expert. Here Comes Science started playing, and after a few minutes we were both singing along about the elements and the elephants.
As kid stuff went, it wasn't too bad.
It beat the hell out of Disney crap. For sure.
We didn't actually own much, so packing wasn't that hard. And coffee helped.
In all, there were three boxes of stuff for Bray. And two boxes for me, plus a suitcase.
Then I had to stand on a chair to take down our big tie-dyed wall hanging.
We'd made it together last summer, on one of those glorious days where the sun is so bright and beautiful, you don't even consider making your kid go in at bedtime.
I used it to wrap the framed family portrait I'd splurged on when Bray was three.
'Packing up two lives should take more than an hour,' I thought wistfully, as I looked around the room.
There wasn't much left. Just the kitchen and bathroom stuff...
However, I decided to take a quick shower before clearing out the bathroom.
"Don't open the door unless it's Uncle Wringer or his friend," I told Bray, emptying the coffeepot into my mug. "You cool with that?"
"I'm not a child," he replied, offering me a look of genuine disgust. "I'll be in second grade soon."
"Okay, seeing as you're an adult, you go ahead and finish up out here. Make sure I haven't missed anything, okay?" I replied. "I'll wash up fast."
I closed the door and pulled off my clothes. The room was small, but at least we had a tub.
Unfortunately, the hot-water situation wasn't too great...one of the joys of living on the top floor of a building with shared boilers.
I showered quickly, grabbing a towel as I stepped out, dripping all over my dirty laundry.
Then I dried off and wrapped the towel around my head before reaching for my clean clothes.
They weren't there...
I'd already packed them all up without giving it a second thought.
Crap!
To add insult to injury...I heard Sam's voice in the apartment.
Wasn't that just perfect?
I grabbed a second towel and wrapped it around my body, opening the door a crack.
"Bray, can you come here?" I called.
"He's downstairs with Stud. He wanted to help load the truck," Sam answered.
At that, he strolled towards the bathroom, all lean and tall and full of controlled strength. Like a great big killer cat.
He stopped outside the door and crossed his muscular arms, his green eyes dark with something I couldn't interpret.
Suddenly, memories of those arms around me earlier flashed through my head, and I flushed.
Stupid.
Sam was a dead end, at least in terms of a relationship, and I sure as hell didn't want a booty call.
Okay, that was a lie. I'd love a good booty call. Just not with a guy I'd still have to deal with ten years from now.
My hormones needed to find something else to obsess about.
And fast...
"What's up?" Sam asked.
"I forgot my clean clothes," I told him, considering my strategy. "You mind stepping outside for a sec? I'll get dressed fast."
"Are you gonna give me crap about coming to Colorado?" he asked, raising a brow in challenge.
Great. I'd gotten over my snit, but clearly he hadn't.
"No."
"You wanna bitch me out for what happened next door?"
"No."
"That's a fast turnaround."
"I don't have a lot of choice," I admitted, forcing myself not to grit my teeth. "It's not what I'd pick, but it's better than staying here. You win...I didn't want to do my own dirty work. I'm glad you did it for me. Happy?"
"You say that like it hurts."
It did hurt. The man was like a cheese grater on my skin.
"Just let me grab something to wear, Sam. You won. Don't rub it in."
He laughed, the sound harsh.
"Glad you figured that out," he said. "Life is easier when you have help, like it or not. I'll dig something out for you. Suitcase?"
"That's okay..." I started, but he'd already turned and grabbed the bag, flopping it on the now-naked bed to unzip it.
I swallowed as he began digging around. Not that I had anything to hide, but I didn't like him touching my things.
Way too intimate.
"Nice," Sam said, turning back towards me, and dangling a black, lacy push-up bra from one finger. The side of his mouth twitched and his eyes warmed. "You should wear this one."
"Put it down, Sam," I told him. "Just go outside. I'll find what I need."
"I like these ones, too," he said, pulling out a pair of turquoise panties. "They'd go good with the garter belt."
I bit back a groan. I might have a thing for pretty underwear, but I didn't need his input.
Jerk.
I checked my towel, making sure it was securely tucked in. Then I walked out of the bathroom, determined to get his hands off my panties.
"Just put them down," I repeated as I moved across the floor.
Silence...
Only, he turned to me, eyes sweeping over my figure and pausing on my breasts. And suddenly, I felt exposed and uncomfortable, which was silly.
The towel covered more than most swimsuits.
But Sam had a hungry gleam in his eye...one I refused to take as a compliment.
We'd already established that he found me attractive on a basic, biological level.
Problem was, he found every woman attractive on a basic, biological level.
I really didn't like this new dynamic between us. Things were more comfortable when he treated me like a piece of unwanted furniture.
"But I like them," he said, examining the soft fabric with a smirk. I grabbed for the panties but he held them out of my reach.
"I just got done convincing myself I've been unfair to you," I told him, narrowing my eyes. "Don't ruin it."
Sam didn't say anything for several seconds. Then he stretched the panties between his hands like a rubber band and shot them at my face.
I lurched to grab the silky blue missile. That's when the towel slipped and I flashed enough of myself to earn a damned fine collection of Mardi Gras beads.
"Nice rack," he told me. "I've checked out the rest of you before, but never those. Usually, it's other way around, now that I think of it. Tits before..."
"Jesus, you're a pig!" I said, cutting him off as I jerked up the towel.
"I'll concede the point," he said, shrugging and stepping away from the suitcase. "But only if you wear that black bra. I liked the girls. They deserve something nice."
"Asshole!" I muttered. My pissy mood back in full force.
I dug through my bag, pulling out a pair of ratty cutoffs. Then I spotted the super tight, super low-cut Barbie Is a Slut tank top my friend Trisha got me two years ago for Halloween, when we'd stayed with her folks.
We'd taken Bray out trick-or-treating wearing friendly witch costumes early in the evening. Then, after we'd tucked him safely in bed at her mom's place, we took ourselves out trick-or-drinking.
I made out with three different guys at three different parties...using three different names. And we finished by eating our weight in chocolate chip pancakes at IHOP as the sun rose.
Best. Night. Ever.
I pulled the tank out with a smile.
Sam wanted to treat me like one of his sluts?
I could go there.
I'd let him perv on my boobs.
All day.
Publicly.
And maybe flirt a little, too, but not with him. Nope, he could just suck it while I flashed the world. That would teach him to play with my panties.
I hoped his balls turned so blue they froze.
I ignored him as I took the shorts, tank, bra and panties back to the bathroom and got dressed. I dried the little water my hair and put on full war paint.
Then I stepped out to find that Stud and Bray were back.
"Hey, mom...Stud has a dog. Can we get a dog, too?" Bray asked the instant he saw me.
"I don't think so," I replied. "A dog is a lot of work. We should start smaller. Maybe a hamster. Let's ask Uncle Wringer if that's okay or if he thinks it's too much."
I smiled at Sam, whose eyes were glued to my chest. And naughty me, I adjusted my tank, pulling it down just enough to expose the top of the bra he'd requested.
He wanted to break our rules and bully me?
No problem.
I was a big girl now, and I could fight back.
"So what do you think, Uncle Wringer?" I asked sweetly. "Is it too much?"
He didn't answer, only stared.
Despite his earlier breakfast, Bray had no trouble polishing off a full plate of pancakes, two slices of bacon, and a glass of orange juice.
Another growth spurt coming, I realized. That sucked. Seemed like I'd just bought him new clothes a month ago.
Every time I caught up, the kid got bigger.
"Are you done?" I asked him, leaning back in the booth.
We'd finished packing an hour ago, at which point, Sam and Stud kicked us out. Apparently, we were getting in their way.
So Sam handed me two twenties and told me to take Bray out for breakfast down the street, which made sense, given the long car ride ahead of us.
I didn't like taking his money but I had to be practical. I couldn't afford to waste cash on something as frivolous as eating out.
"Done," Bray said, grinning at me. God, he was beautiful.
His face still held a hint of the softness he'd been born with, but his legs and arms were getting lanky.
He liked his hair on the long side, so it hung shaggy around his face and above his shoulders.
It wasn't quite long enough for a ponytail, but close.
People told me I should cut it. But I figured it should be his choice.
When he got older he'd learn all about peer pressure and fitting in. For now, I just wanted him to enjoy the blissful freedom that comes from not giving a rat's ass about the world's opinions.
His skin was light, with a smattering of freckles across his nose and face. Sometimes I caught glimpses of myself or Shaun in him, but not often.
Bray was his own person, no question of that.
Kind of took after Sam that way, I mused.
"Okay, let's go," I said, dropping some money on the table.
I tipped the waitress nearly fifty percent...she seemed overworked, and I knew how that felt. Also, it wasn't my money.
I texted Sam as I left, wondering if me and Bray had killed enough time.
He replied, telling me to give him another thirty minutes. So I had to figure out what to do to pass the time.
We didn't have a park right by our apartment, but there was a lot about three blocks away that Bray liked running around in.
I've heard it used to be a hangout for dealers and users, but a few years back, yuppies had started moving into the neighborhood. Now, about half of it was a community garden, and the rest was for the kids.
Someone had built a wooden swing set. And there were murals on the sides of the buildings bordering the lot, which kept the place looking cheerful and bright.
It took us about ten minutes to reach the park, and Bray made the most of his time there.
I ran laps with him around the edges, hoping to tire him out. It didn't work, of course. Only on me...
Then we headed back, popping into a used bookstore on the way to pick out something special for the car ride.
We found Stud, Sam and two guys I didn't recognize on the sidewalk outside the building.
The newcomers wore leather vests that read 'Black Devils' across the back. Below that was a picture of a black devil and the word 'Nomad'.
They were both tall guys, one bulky in a muscular way and the other long and lean in his strength. And both had dark hair.
They were both attractive and both of them looked about my age. And I could see, they clearly appreciated my Barbie tank top.
One raised his chin in silent greeting.
"Hey," I said, coming up to them, smiling. "You must be Wringer's friends. Nice to meet you. I'm Mercedes. This is my boy, Braylon."
Sam's eyes narrowed.
"Go wait in the car," he said, tossing me his keys.
"Those aren't my keys. Introduce me to your friends."
"They're my keys. They belong to the blue rig, right over there," he told me, nodding towards a large SUV across the street. "Car. Now! Stud is gonna drive yours back to Colorado."
I opened my mouth to argue, just on general principle. Then I caught Stud's eyes, which held a silent warning.
He glanced towards Bray, then towards the strangers. That's when I finally caught the tension in the air...their body language was far from friendly.
This wasn't a happy visit.
"Nice to meet you," I said, taking my son's hand. I dragged him across the street and climbed into the big SUV waiting for us.
I noticed Sam had already installed a booster seat in the back. And Bray's backpack sat next to it.
I leaned over and stuck the keys in the ignition, then switched on the AC.
Ten minutes later, Sam came over and climbed into the driver's seat.
"You buckled in, little man?" he asked as he popped the SUV into reverse.
"Uh-huh," Bray replied. "Thanks for grabbing my backpack. I'm excited to see your house. Do you have Skylanders?"
"Got no idea what a Skylander is, kid," he replied. "But I'm sure we can get some."
"Sam..." I started, but he cut me off.
"Jesus, Mercedes," he said, glaring at me. "Now I can't buy the kid a present? Shit, he's had a rough night. If I wanna buy him something, I will."
"Actually, I was going to ask if I could take him upstairs to the bathroom before we leave," I replied, smiling sweetly. "He drank a big glass of juice at breakfast. We aren't going to get far without a pit stop."
His glare faded.
"That's totally reasonable."
"Yeah, I know. I'm a reasonable person."
"We'll stop at a restaurant or something," he said, pulling out. "I don't want you going back upstairs. The guys are up there now."
"The guys?" I asked. "You mean the guys you were talking to on the sidewalk? Things seemed a little tense. What was that all about?"
"Don't worry about it," he said. "Club business. I'll pull off when I see a good place to stop."
Predictably, Braylon started begging for a kid's meal when we stopped at a fast-food place, especially when he saw they were Skylander-themed.
He couldn't possibly be hungry, but Sam ordered two of the overpriced little boxes.
"That's ridiculous!" I told him as he carried them back to the car. "The food will go to waste. Bray is stuffed. Not to mention, he already ate out earlier. He doesn't need unhealthy junk like that."
"They're for me," Sam replied. "He can have the toys, I'll take the food. I'm starving."
As we pulled out and onto the freeway, Bray started telling Sam all about the Skylanders. By now, he was totally wired and it was a damned good thing he was belted in, otherwise he might have jumped around until we crashed the car.
He talked Skylanders as we cleared the city.
He talked Skylanders as we passed North Bend.
He talked Skylanders as we started up Snoqualmie Pass.
Poor Sam. He had no idea how much conversational stamina Bray had...
"I'm taking a nap," I said, raising my arms and stretching, chest thrust out.
I saw Sam's eyes flick to me, and they weren't looking at my face.
Good.
I wanted his balls so blue they stayed that way. Maybe that would teach him a lesson about changing the rules of our relationship without warning.
I still had a crush on him, but he wasn't crushing on me at all.
Nope.
He was just horny.
"Sure," he grunted. And Bray rattled on in the background as I leaned my seat back and closed my eyes.
I woke slowly, feeling myself in motion and trying to remember where I was. Then I heard Bray talking and it came back to me...
Sam. Colorado. Packing. Rachel.
"..then the Skylanders realized they needed the Giants if they wanted to defeat Kaos," Bray said to Sam, his voice earnest.
"You still talking about Skylanders?" I asked sleepily, turning to look at my son. He was all smiles, clearly excited to have a captive audience.
"Yup. Still talkin' about Skylanders," Sam said, his voice strained and his expression dark. I bit back a laugh. "He's been talkin' about Skylanders nonstop. I think we ran out of new material a while ago, because now he's telling me the same shit over again. We're almost to Ellensburg. I want to pull off and buy one of those little DVD players for him to hold on his lap, and some headphones. We've still got a way to go. This might kill me."
"Will I get to have it in my room?" Bray asked, his excitement kicking up a notch, voice growing shrill. "I want lots of movies. I want to watch it every night. Mom doesn't let me watch very much TV and..."
"Just for the car!" Sam snapped. And Bray's face fell. Then Sam glanced back in the mirror and grimaced. "Sorry, little man. Didn't mean to yell at you. Uncle Wringer is kinda tired. Think we could keep it quiet until we get to the store? Please?"
The poor man was clearly desperate. I bit my tongue, looking out the passenger-side window, trying not to laugh.
"Shut up, Mercy!"
"I didn't say anything."
"I heard you thinkin'."
I started giggling. I couldn't help it.
Soon Bray joined in, filling the car with his happy noise.
And Sam...he stared straight ahead at the road, face grim.
If I was a better woman, I wouldn't have enjoyed it so much.
But I had to admit...his silence was refreshing.
Sorry guys, I didn't read over, makes no sense. It seems as though everyone in the house wanted to talk or ask me something while I was editing this chapter. So please forgive or ignore anything that doesn't make sense.
I guess that's what I get for being the only female in the house :)
Stay safe!