Page 38 of The Games We Play (Balance of Power #3)

SEAMUS

W hat the hell good are weather apps and meteorologists if they can’t manage to actually get the weather predictions correct? Seriously, they have one job.

I can’t say I mind too much, considering it’s landed me straddling Mimi with our tongues dancing together, drenched in the rain.

Something shifted tonight.

I don’t know if it started with the Tantric massage, and if that really is some magical gateway to an open connection that we both needed, or if we’re both just getting back to our roots of where we began together. But tonight, I feel it. We both do.

My tongue continues to explore her mouth and lips, and I can’t get enough. I want more, but here in the woods, in the middle of an unplanned monsoon, is probably not the place to do it.

We’re drenched, plastered with mud, and I couldn’t be happier that I have a couple of dry blankets in the back of my truck for us.

“Come on.” Pushing myself up, I take her hand as we both stand and trek through the mud to the passenger door of my truck. I grab the blanket from the back, quickly caping it around her, wrapping her like a burrito, then helping her into the front seat.

I run around the back, my feet slipping a bit in the mud as I close the tailgate, grab the extra dry blanket, and jump in the driver’s side.

Starting the truck, I make our way back to our houses and she scooches over closer to my side, leaning her head on my shoulder.

I love her like this. It’s like the old Mimi who was always so wild and free, who always wore her heart on her sleeve and a smile on her face.

I feel my old self coming back, too. The one who had moments of happiness when my mother was around, because she made me feel like I meant something to someone.

Even with that, I can sense she’s holding something back. I can only assume she’s still reluctant to trust me due to our history of having ten years of feeling abandoned without any explanation. But I’m fine with spending a lifetime earning it back.

I lean down, kissing her wet hair, and I can physically feel her nuzzle deeper into me.

“They said your mom had an accident. Can I ask what happened?” she asks, quietly.

I think back on that moment. I remember my mind racing as to what kind of accident she had. I immediately thought she was in a car accident, and had no idea what to do or how to process.

I wasn’t proud of the fact that I hoped, for a split moment, my dad was driving drunk and would finally get what was coming to him. But if that was the case, they would have told me something happened to my dad, not my mom.

When I realized what the actual accident was, I knew it wasn’t a fucking accident.

“She fell down the stairs.” I glance at Mimi as her eyes look up to mine, and she knows .

I retreated into myself that senior year. Holding in what I knew was the truth because no one would believe me. No one would believe that my father, Deputy Sheriff Matthews could be capable of violence.

My mother never reported any of her other accidents , so when I accused him of pushing her, everyone in the hospital just thought I was making something up to help with my grieving.

“My father was the Deputy Sheriff where we lived. No one believed me.” I grip the steering wheel tighter, recalling all the moments of abuse and hidden violence my mother endured.

There is a distinct sound that leads to an indescribable fear when you hear the blunt force punch of a fist against a face. But when you know and love the person who is taking that hit, it jars your soul.

I had spent too many years doing nothing. Hiding like my mother had told me to and avoiding him when he was drinking. Remaining quiet for months after she died. The rage consumed me until I couldn’t take it anymore.

“One night, a few months after she died, he came home drunk with a woman from the bar. I completely lost it. I called her a whore, tried to get her to leave, but he defended her. We were nearing Christmas break and I was close to graduating a semester early, pushing myself to complete my diploma so I could leave, but I couldn’t stand the thought of him having another woman in our house—my mother’s home—so I started a fight with him.

” I swallow thickly, recalling the moment I swung first and how shocked he was.

Mimi sits up and shifts her body to face me, giving me her full attention.

I’m still hyper focused on the road, trying to see through the thick blanket of rain.

It's heavy, but lighter than it was when we were in the woods. I know I probably shouldn’t be having such an emotional conversation while driving through an intense rainstorm, but I’ve always strived under these conditions.

“I beat him so badly he was hospitalized for a week. He gave me a choice; enlist in the military or he would press charges against me. He was a well-respected town cop and I was his disobedient, juvenile son with a bad temper .” I air quote. “You know the rest.”

Pulling into my driveway, I shut off the truck and turn to face her. The rain has stopped completely now, so when I turn off the ignition, there is nothing but pure silence that rings through the car between us.

The flood light that I installed beams on and light shines through the windshield, bringing me a view of her gorgeous, gold speckled, dark chocolate eyes.

There’s a sorrowness behind them, but full of pride.

Like she’s proud of me, and I’ve never had someone look at me like that. Not since before my mother died.

“I don’t know the rest. The rest is your life. It’s what has made Seamus…Seamus. I’d like to hear the rest whenever you want to tell me.” She leans in, kissing my shoulder she was just leaning on. “Now come on, let’s get our muddy asses out of this truck and into my house. We need a shower.”

She reaches for the door handle, letting herself out, and when she looks back at me, it’s like I’m falling in love all over again. Giving me a playful wink, she dips her head at her front door with a smile, and I’m a total goner for her.

My God, this woman.

Something has shifted between us and she’s opening herself up, allowing me in. Not only does it feel like the old us, but it feels like a more powerful us. And I won’t take it for granted.

I have no idea what I did right in this world to have her come back into my life, but I’m never letting her go.

My phone buzzes in my pocket as I reach for my keys and wallet, but I ignore it as I exit my truck.

I trail behind her as she unlocks her front door.

My phone buzzes a second and third time.

Now I’m curious. Pulling it out, I glance at the messages to see Rocco sending me a few images followed by a text message.

Rocco: I’m not sure what you’re looking for, but if it has anything to do with the court case she and her parents had, those are completely sealed.

But, because I’m me, I should have the details on that before tomorrow.

In the meantime, her full medical background starting from when she was eighteen years old is here.

I don’t really need to worry about digging into that too much right now, but as I go to shut off the screen, my finger grazes over the image and the screenshot enlarges.

The image of a medical record pops up and the first line reads: Termination of pregnancy .

Dated only a couple months after she turned eighteen.

It’s like I got dropped out of a tornado and everything around me is spiraling. I stumble, taking a long stride to catch myself. I’ve never felt so taken off guard before, so unprepared for something so shocking.

My breathing picks up and all my emotions are battling each other simultaneously.

Anger, sadness, frustration, rage.

“Seamus?” Mimi calls out as she looks at me concerned.

I look up to her, in shock, my breathing still labored.

“You had an abortion?”