“He didn’t exactly brag about me. We were estranged.” Anger slowly builds under his words. “How did you know him? Did you work for him?”
“You could say that.” I visually pick Baz apart, feature by tiny feature. He looks nothing like Benny. Nothing. Not one trait do they share. He doesn’t have Benny’s textured black hair, or oval-shaped face, or crooked nose, or puffy cheeks, or thin lips. Nada. None of it. Although, as I scrutinize him, I realize that’s not entirely true. They do share one similarity. Those damn eyes. I don’t know how I didn’t see it before. They’re exactly the same. Two green spotlights that can track and interrogate you worse than the feds.
“Want to elaborate on exactly how you knew him?” Baz presses, hostility laced in the question.
My saliva trickles down my throat like razorblades at just the mere mention of Benny’s name. Loss engulfs me. A part of me that’s missing, the part I’ve been trying to forget, gets yanked to the forefront. I’ve tried over the last few months to suppress the bereavement that has plagued me since the moment I found out Benny died. My brief affair with Baz was the only time the loneliness was chased away. The only time I felt worthy of something. Of someone. Felt a sliver of true happiness. Until I lost him, too.
“Benny and Regina sort of took me in,” I explain vaguely. “And raised me,” I tack on.
Baz returns my dumbfounded expression when I reveal this information.
“Benny Velona raised you?” He laughs bitterly. “You mean he was actually interested in someone other than himself?” He sweeps his harrowing gaze over me. “You’re not so hard on the eyes, and you’re not a freaking reject, so I guess I can understand why he’d rather raise someone else’s kid over his own.” His pain and resentment ooze from every opening in his body.
“You’re not a reject, Baz.” I know, two seconds ago he slapped me with a backhanded insult, but I can take it. It’s nothing I can’t brush off. Plus, seeing Benny’s lifelong neglect stamped all over Baz is devastating. Benny wasn’t the greatest person on Earth. I know this. I’ve always known this. He may have found me when my spirit was broken, but my mind worked just fine. I never romanticized him. I may have loved him. I may have been loyal to him, but I knew what he was capable of. What he liked and what he didn’t.Defects get trashed.Those were Benny’s words. He liked beautiful things. He like well-oiled machines and surrounding himself with nothing but the best. Regardless, if it was man, woman, or child. I’m positive Benny saw Baz’s emotional issues as a weakness. Saw him as a reject. And ultimately cast Baz aside.
“Of course, I am, Stevie,” he verbally attacks me. “You saw what I was like. Experienced firsthand what I’m capable of. How fucked up I am.” He bangs his palm against his head.
“Baz—”
“I tried to be just like him, ya know. Tried to be everything he wanted me to be. I idolized him, but it was never good enough.Iwas never enough. His retard offspring, I heard him tell my mother once. I’m not normal, I know that. But I tried, Stevie, I tried so damn hard to get him to love me. And he just wouldn’t—”
“Baz, stop.” I grab his face, silencing his tirade. “I’m glad you’re nothing like him. I like the way you are.”
“Fucking crazy?” It isn’t a snarky remark. He’s dead serious. His issues are blatant, and he isn’t hiding behind them, but he is letting them affect him.
“Crazy doesn’t scare me. I’m still here, aren’t I? You destroyed me three nights ago. Holding that gun to your head, begging me to end it. A man as good as you doesn’t deserve a death like that. A man as good as you deserves to be loved and cherished and protected.”
“I tried to kill you,twice,”he solemnly reminds me.
I smile. “Tried being the operative word. I’m not that easy to kill.” I kiss the tip of his perfect nose.
“I didn’t want to tell you,” he confesses.
“Didn’t want to tell me what?”
“How bad it really was. When you asked me about it. I didn’t want you to know. I didn’t want you to see me differently.” He drops his eyes.
“I don’t see you differently. I see the same man who played pool with me with no expectations, and chased me out to my car for no good reason, and told me I was beautiful and genuinely meant it. It was the first time I ever really believed it or liked hearing it.” A little embarrassed smile breaks through his lips like sunshine. “You also gave me something I’ve always wanted. Secretly wished for.” I place his hand on my stomach.
“You said you were on birth control.” It isn’t an accusatory comment. He’s just stating a fact.
“I was. But there was a mix-up at my gynecologist’s office, and I didn’t get the message that I was overdue for my shot in time. Whoops,” I feign upset.
“Yeah, whoops. That’s what we’ll call him until we can figure out a name.”
“I like Baz.”
Baz scrunches his nose. “I think we can do better. Besides, we aren’t even sure if it’s a boy.”
“You sound very committed to this baby already.” I test the waters, wanting to see where his head is at.
“Committed isn’t a strong enough word. Ironclad, exact and binding, concrete, solid, substantial commitment is more like it. Signed in blood.”
I try to hide how ecstatic that response makes me feel. I never knew my real parents, and I pledged this child would know at least one of his—or hers. Knowing both? A secret eyelash wish come true.
“What about his mother? Are you committed to her, too?” I push the envelope, starving to know exactly what he wants. How much ofus—me and the baby—he actually wants.
That warmth I’ve become so fond of radiates off Baz. He cups my cheek. It’s a possessive yet tender touch.
