Love Lines- Bradley Read online

  Love Lines: Bradley

  West Virginia Bad Boys

  by

  Falon Gold

  Being reborn in a literal inferno took part of Bradley White’s arm, leaving him with a military upgrade in its place and a fresh start. Going back to a town with only terrible memories unearthed a son with a mother who loathed Bradley for good reason; he wasn’t a good guy when she knew him.

  Getting to know his son should’ve made staying in the mother’s good graces a priority. Except, love didn’t care about good graces, priorities, or the people it made uncomfortable.

  Between a rotten husband and her wealthy family rotted on the inside, Delilah Claiborne had been dragged through the backside of Hell. She came out the other end no nicer than them as a person, which brought the risk of losing the women she considered real friends later in life.

  On the cusp of changing her ways one night, she and her daughter were suddenly in dire need of a savior. The last thing she wanted to do was fall for him, taking them both over the edge of the girl code; don’t mess with your friends’ exes.

  Delilah has to find a way to hold on to everyone she treasures without losing them it all.

  Or will she have to choose who means the most?

  Copyright © 2020 Falon Gold

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN:

  ISBN-13:

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Epilogue

  Chapter One

  ~Bradley White~

  As I lingered uninvited on Duchess Cannon’s porch in the nippy morning air, I had a son, echoed in my mind for the millionth time in twenty-four-hours. That was exactly how long I had been back in town. Laramie’s gossip mill only needed a tenth of a day to alter my world for good. A welcomed change after all life had taken from me, which almost included my life. Finally, life itself gave something back; Aiden Cannon, my five-year-old I didn’t know existed until yesterday.

  His mother appeared at the end of the block on foot, coming from the elementary school a few blocks away. I waited patiently for her to reach me. She was lovely as ever in her caramel skin. A little wider in the hourglass hips. Still battling financial ruin by the looks of her faded nylon coat, ratty jeans, and old, rambling home in serious need of paint. Knowing her, she was spending every cent she could on our son and going to be quite bitter toward me. I couldn’t blame her.

  As she drew near the bottom of her porch steps, almond-shaped eyes cast daggers in my direction predictably. She sneered, “Hello, Bradley. Now, why the hell are you here?”

  With my past bad acts committed against her, I couldn’t take offense at the rude reception. “Hey, Duchess.”

  Her intense, chocolate pupils roamed over me, tallying my worth. Good. I wasn’t the same after seeing and doing things for Black Ops that some didn’t come back from. Secret wars kicked then humbled my ass then kept a piece of me as payment. An alien to myself, I had a wider grasp of ‘shit happens’, a body broken then rebuilt to stand tall in the face of anything to prove it. Much like how Duchess always carried herself. Keeping the baby I unknowingly saddled her with would’ve been cake to her and sent the Bradley she knew ballistic, but he was dead.

  “I think you know why I’m here,” ejected from me quietly, no longer that loudmouth with something to prove to people who won’t spit on me if I was on fire. I gave some people reasons not to, some I didn’t. Duchess may be leading the bandwagon of those scorned. To put it mildly, our parting was hostile thanks to me.

  Suddenly, her eyes attempted to pop out of her head as if she’d been blindsided… or had an epiphany. Yep, she knew why I was here now.

  “I know why you don’t want me here too, but I’ve changed.” Until I proved it, she—the equivalent of a protective mother bear—wouldn’t let me near Aiden, who was blessed to have her.

  Her doubt of ‘I’ve changed’ was evident in the raising of one arched, jet-black eyebrow. “For the worse?”

  I smirked, had definitely left an everlasting impression with her that had to be fixed fast. “The man you knew me as can’t change for the better, right?” My sarcasm might not be the best way to repair relations between us, but shit, some things didn’t change just had to be abided.

  Not appreciating my wit, her other eyebrow went up. “I’m not saying that. It’s just most people don’t get better by choice. They usually like who they are most times.”

  “I had no choice,” I said simply. “And I’m sorry for how I treated you years ago. I knew I wasn’t good enough for you, so I tried to…” My words fizzled out—how do you admit that you needed to hurt someone, anyone to feel better about yourself?

  “Tear me down?” she finished for me. ‘To your level’ was left unsaid.

  I was a bastard to just about everyone in Laramie at some point. “Yeah.”

  She blinked, stunned at my candor. Old me couldn’t be this open and honest with her. To pull it off required more strength than recuperating from losing partial of a limb then gaining an optimized forearm hardwired through my arm and brain. I’d rip the damn thing out if it meant being in my son’s life. She was going to make me work for it, earn it.

  Determined to soldier through this ‘come to Jesus then come clean’ reunion, I retrieved my right hand from my coat pocket, running it through my curls not up to military code. “I never told you that I didn’t have the best in upbringings. Might’ve been the worst actually, but I didn’t want you to see me as pathetic or someone who wanted pity.”

  “Oh, someone else always has it worse,” she chided. “And it wasn’t pathetic or pitiful that I saw you as by the time you finished with me. More like just plain, ole mean and malicious.”

  “I was that. My only example of how a man should be was a mean, malicious, and abusive father. An ex-cop who didn’t care who he slapped around when he was drunk… or sober.” Over the past, I shrugged, only bringing it up because she had the right to know. “He forced my mother to leave me when I was eight. I was the weakest of the two. She was starting to fight back, but he had power, connections here. She’d have never been able to take me with her. Leaving him was the best for her, I know that now or she wouldn’t have been on this earth for me to track down three years ago. She died a year ago. Leaving here was the best thing I could’ve done for everyone, including my…” I wasn’t sure if she was ready for me to claim Aiden as mine, didn’t want to push her hot button if she wasn’t.

  Usually levelheaded, Duchess went nuclear upon activation. “Son,” she ended my sentence, giving me permission to call Aiden what he was. “I truly am sorry for what your father did to you, but my daddy wasn’t father of the year either, mother taken from me too soon too. I didn’t and don’t take my shit out on those around me, so there are no excuses for your behavior before Aiden. It’s a conscious choice to perpetuate a vicious cycle of abuse, be victim, attacker, or survivor.” She still gave it straight, no chaser, I saw.

  “Duchess, I’ve never made excuses for my behavior, just explaining, and I’ve never wanted to lay hands on someone… just steal their power, their strength by making them fear me. My father taught me to go for the weakest like my mother. My condolences for your mother by the way. I truly hope there was someone there for you and Aiden after her passing. I know how much you loved each other. I was jealous of that, you know? A part of me wanted that with you for myself… and with Aiden. I’d like to meet him if you don’t mind.�
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  Something hot flashed in her eyes, signaling that she minded alright. “Thank you for the condolences. I do mind you meeting him today, I’m not springing you on him. Which Delilah Claiborne told you about him by the way?”

  I laughed. Who could forget stuck-up Delilah, a Baldwin when we were kids, and a living, breathing China doll about the size of one too? She’d married another snob from the Claiborne clan, evidently. Her blonde-haired, blue-eyed beauty rivaled Duchess’ exquisiteness, but Delilah was often cruel, spread rumors as a hobby and asked to be taken down a peg since her birth in a wealthy family that nurtured her rotten ways.

  “I understand giving him some time to get used to the idea of me, but I really do want to be a part of his life as a good man who’s got his shit together.” More today than six years ago anyhow. “I’m here to stay, so I can prove that to you. To answer your question, the second I got back to town yesterday, it felt like just about everyone but Delilah that knew we had dated told me. I couldn’t stand in line to order food, pump gas, or park at the old trailer my father used to live in without someone informing me that I was a father.”

  My sins had visited Aiden, leaving him fatherless.

  Duchess propped one foot on the bottom step. “I’m surprised someone didn’t tell your father or you about Aiden sooner.”

  Evoking my father left a bad taste in my mouth. “I’m sure he knew.” Not much got past the people here let alone the few cops. “But, he would’ve kept me in the dark just to hurt me. He was why I cut all ties with Laramie when I left, and I understand why you didn’t tell me sooner yourself.”

  “I’m glad you understand, Bradley, I don’t have to explain, and all ties?”

  “Yeah, Sienna was the first to go.” Using Duchess’ friend to hurt Duchess was my worst decision ever—it burned a bridge that was still on fire and I had to crawl back over it to get to my son. Luckily, at this stage in my life, me and fire had become kissing cousins.

  Duchess’ lush lips tilted up on one side. “Last girl in, first out, huh?”

  “Yes. I never actually slept with her. She was just to make you jealous, make you chase me.” I was a needy motherfucker back then. “But, you’re too strong for that. You were too strong for me and was my last tie here. You know Sienna was secretly jealous of you, right? She came with me to your job, pretending to be my latest girl while I broke up with you just to hurt you.”

  I went out with a public bang or rather a crash after Duchess threw dishes and drinks at us. What the fuck was I thinking? There was no coming back from that.

  She sucked air through her teeth condescendingly. “Yeah, I had lots for my ex-best friend to be jealous of and I’m pretty sure I was the first tie you cut too.” She had no idea then or now that she had what counted the most to those that didn’t have it; unconditional love in her life.

  I guessed I should tell her that. “You had what Sienna and I didn’t; a good mother at the time. One decent parent would’ve worked for us. She was looking for that in all the wrong places, so was I. You were my last tie here and thought before I went into basic training. I thought about you afterwards a lot too, and I’m sorry for what I did at your job especially after you highly embarrassed my ass, which I deserved. I was too chicken shit before now to face you again and apologize.

  “Plus, I believed you about what you’d do with the hot coffee if you saw me again. You always kept that feisty side hidden, didn’t have to use it until me, but I saw it and your quiet strength way before we dated. That’s why I wanted you. Taming you was supposed to make me the man I wanted to be. I failed at the taming obviously, and that’s why I’m on your porch not at your job.” Lesson learned about Duchess and projectiles; whatever was around, she’d throw.

  “My feisty side’s still here,” she warned then laughed, her humor easing some of the tension.

  I snorted. “I can tell and you don’t need it. Two tours made me the man I wanted to be three years ago. It didn’t come for free either. Lost a piece of myself literally in exchange for Afghanistan’s ‘grow the hell up’ version.” Unveiling that was to prime her for a bombshell.

  Pulling my left hand from my pocket revealed the prosthetic black and chrome fingers. They wiggled. She swallowed hard, trying to digest her horror lest it reached her face. Not many people could check their reaction before I noticed it. Duchess was no different.

  I was used to the individual freak-outs, even had a trick taught to me by my therapist to get others’ minds and their pity off my hand. “This is proof of our government’s advanced cybernetics program. They’ll experiment on anything on the human body.”

  “Anything?” Imagination gone wild, she’d fell for the ‘bait and switch topic’ trap.

  “Anything,” I confirmed as part of the rote, could see the next question forming on her face; did they augment my dick too?

  This wasn’t the first time I interpreted that from someone. Most people were too polite to ask, and she was of the few that were less than thrilled with my sexual prowess when we dated. I wasn’t concerned with anyone’s pleasure but mine back then. That was corrected six months after I left Laramie by a friend who was no longer alive.

  Getting out of this city did me a lot of good. It was safe to say Duchess didn’t want me to prove that with our history though. Pity. Anyway.

  I put the alloy hand job back in my pocket. “Everything to my elbow was blown up by an IED, and I was wondering if we could start over like I did.”

  She froze. “What? I’m sorry about your hand, Bradley, and I can see for myself that you’ve changed, but oh hell to the no will we be getting back together. Fool me once and treat me like shit, there’ll be no second time. Fuck! That!”

  My turn to laugh. “Feisty as ever. I only want to be the best of friends and co-parents, Duchess. Nothing else.”

  Relief bloomed in her face. “Oh, because I have someone.”

  “Really? And I guess it’s good to know where I stand with you.”

  “Really… and it is good because I love him,” she added sheepishly but proudly.

  “Good for you and him. He has one of the good ones.” I hoped it sounded like I meant that because I did, and it must have because she invited me inside the house. Perfect. It was cooler than normal outside this time of year. Despite the technological advance of my cybernetic, it was part cold, lifeless metal and didn’t have an inbuilt heating system.

  Getting her to discuss Aiden and his needs over coffee took no effort whatsoever. Even easier, she whipped out captured moments of our son’s life. The brand spanking new man in hers, a welder and single father by the name of Kincaid Newman, came home early. He and his daughter had originally moved in as roommates. Now, he and Duchess were live-in lovers, she raised his daughter as one of her own.

  Kincaid was icy cordial until I mentioned child support back pay. His thaw was immediate and he began to tease Duchess about needing a DNA test to prove her as Aiden’s mother—he was the spitting image of me. Then, school let out. We exchanged numbers. She vowed to tell Aiden about me tonight and we’d meet tomorrow. Her sudden suggestion, that I drive by the school to get a peek at Aiden from a distance as she picked him up, almost brought me to tears.

  He was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. That was saying something when his mother had the looks and bearing of a Nubian Goddess. I already loved him upon learning about him. One glimpse of him, I knew I’d use every bit of my training and then some to tear this galaxy apart if it kept him safe. Duchess must’ve seen that in my face when glancing at me parked nearby. She went even further out her way to recommend by text that I follow them to a restaurant.

  Watching my son play without knowing his father was part of the backdrop was a gift I treasured, did cause a tear or two, but wasn’t enough. Craving one more preview of him, I waited for night to fall. Daylight made stalkers easier to see through tinted windows, stealth harder to achieve.

  Parking in the driveway of an empty residence a couple homes down fr
om Duchess’, my black truck blended in with the darkness covering the property and barely had time to cool when one of the neighbors arrived home three residences down from Duchess’. Seconds later, “You are out of control, Delilah!” rebounded from the opened doors of one of the nicer houses on the block.

  The Delilah I went to school with for like three years altogether? Long enough to figure she was not for me, ever. And she lives on this street too? You’ve got to be kidding me.

  And I thought my luck was bad when I woke up five-sixths of a man.

  Chapter Two

  ~Delilah Claiborne~

  “You are out of control, Delilah!” Rafe yelled from the front arched, paneled French doors of the living area.

  He didn’t bother with his routine of hanging up his tan trench coat, stripping out of the navy-blue surgeon scrubs to shower or closing the doors flung outward behind him. Normally, the weather wasn’t allowed in the house. It wasn’t cost-effective and might disturb the mishmash lengths of moussed brunette strands atop his head.

  Yeah, well, higher bills and a perfect image were his least worry after finding two of his bags packed by the door. A glaring sign that his organized life was a mess. The blame for that stood with me forty feet away in a back corner of the room where I unhappily bore a shit ton of rarely-felt shame and guilt for my actions. Wasn’t every day I split my family up. Conflict was new too.

  Like my parents, snide judgments of people most times not to their faces and lashing out at anyone but the source of my misery were more my forte. Today called for confrontation. It was going well until Rafe disconnected the phone during my announcement of filing for divorce. His hanging up on me wasn’t the reaction I wanted. Him coming home pronto was. That was hours ago.

  We were supposed to have a civilized fight when my bravery was at its peak, our five-year-old out of school and at Duchess’s home five houses down. Rafe would go his way, I mine. Alas, he was as unmoved by my call as he was about our six-year marriage rife with his infidelities and built on our similar pedigree. The shakiest of foundations and the usual for our crowd more concerned with power.