“My dad used to beat on my mom.” His statement made the room spin and I found myself walking over to him, sitting down at the table and reaching out to touch his hand.
He’d dropped the bomb. He was telling me things he probably hadn’t told most people in his life. And I didn’t know what to do with it.
“When I was younger there wasn’t much I could do. My dad’s a big dude and he’s always packing.”
Fucking Christ. This story was going to gut me. I knew it. Yet I couldn’t turn away, I didn’t want him to stop. I wanted to know what Little Ethan went through, what turned him into the sweet man he was today. Was it the love he had for his mother?
He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “One night, just before I was about to turn eighteen, I heard them fighting. I stepped out of my room to distract him before the fight could get bigger, when I heard the smack of fist on bone.”
My entire body flinched and I ripped my hand from his to cup my cheek. I’d never forget that sound. The sound it made when Bryce first hit me.
Ethan was staring at the kitchen tiles now and didn’t realize the effect his story had on me.
His voice was low and deadly, causing goosebumps to break out on my arms. “I fucking went berserk. I beat him within an inch of his life.”
Normally hearing a man say that he beat another man within an inch of his life would scare the shit out of me, but hearing it from Ethan … it made me feel safer. Probably another talking point for my eventual therapy session.
“I’m so sorry.” I reached out and squeezed his fingers. “Did you go to jail?”
Ethan met my eyes now and there was a storm going on there. “Just thirty days in juvie, but they had to put it on my record, felony assault, because I was almost eighteen. Had it later expunged because it was ruled self-defense. My mom dropped charges on my dad if he would drop charges on me.”
Jesus. So dysfunctional. But I didn’t have room to talk. For a while there I grew up thinking crack pipes were mommy’s clear cigarettes, or her ”candy” as she would call it. I missed her love when she was available and sober enough to give it, but moving in with my foster family to a nicer part of town was probably the best thing that could have happened to me. Even if it led me to Bryce.
It took me a moment to realize we were still holding hands. Ethan was looking at our interlocked fingers with an unreadable expression. In a panic, I pulled my fingers back and rubbed my hands together.
My voice was small: “Thanks for sharing that with me.”
He nodded. “I didn’t want you thinking I was a murderer or drug dealer or anything.”
I grinned. “Except for that weed bust in eighth grade.”
That brought a smile to his lips. “You heard about that? Hey, that was my big brother’s fault. He stashed it in my backpack.”
“Mmm hmm, sure.” I winked.
He was still smiling. “You want a ride? You might be late at this point.”
I checked my watch.Shit!“You mind?”
Standing up, he grabbed his bike keys. “Never. The more I drive around town with a pretty girl on the back of my bike, the more it raises my clout.”
I couldn’t help but laugh, he was funny. He was always making me laugh or smile, something I wasn’t used to.
As we passed the stairway, one of his hoodies was draped over it. He grabbed it and handed it to me.
I frowned, looking at it, confused.
“To tie around your waist. You’re wearing a dress.” He actually blushed, which I liked seeing. I didn’t want to inform him that if anyone saw my big-ass Wal-Mart granny panties, it wouldn’t do much for them, so I just tied it around my waist. The fact that he cared about my modesty was more than slightly adorable and I was very terrified that I was actually falling for him. Not just in a want to fuck your landlord way. I wanted to have something with Ethan, something normal couples had. But I just wasn’t sure I was ready or capable and that shit made me sad.
After dropping me off at work, Ethan took off back to the shop to finish his taxes and I kept my mind busy with beer pimping and mild flirting for tips. Angela wasn’t working today, but Taylor was pretty cool and the night was flying by. Mickey had given me six tables tonight and we were packed. I could almost taste the money I was going to make. Maybe I’d put it in the budget to buy some Target level undies. With lace. Fancy up my undergarments just in case a certain tattooed felon ever saw them.
A normal person should probably wait a year after divorcing before even thinking about moving on, but Bryce had been dead to me for so long I felt like moving on was all I could think about now.
I was so busy I didn’t even notice when Ethan and his boys came in. They were sitting at a table in my section. Sebastian was there; he was the shop manager. And so were Nick, the short wild one of the group, and James, the tall silent one.
“Hey, boys! Can I start you off with a round?” I set some napkins and a bowl of pretzels at their table.
Nick winked at me. “Bud Lights for all of us please, beautiful.” He was the flirter in the group and constantly trying to make passes at all the waitresses here.
