He lifts his hand and flips me the bird. “Of course I’ll fucking be there.”
“Good,” I state, slamming the truck door.
I jog toward the duplex but pause when Wyatt calls out my name. Stopping in my tracks, I turn to face him. He’s smiling. “Happy for you, Ry,” he calls out.
I open my mouth to respond, but he shifts his truck into drive and punches the gas before I can say a word. I watch his pickup disappear and hope that he finds what I have, and fast. He deserves it, he deserves happiness. Fuck he deserves it more than I do, tenfold at least.
Opening the door, I inhale expecting to smell something cooking in the kitchen. I frown when I don’t smell anything. Turning to look out the front door, I make sure that Channing’s car is parked in the driveway. It’s there, but the house is quiet.
“Channing,” I call out. I’m met with silence which causes me to frown. My heart rate picks up, I quickly walk to the bedroom, slamming the door open and let out a heavy breath. She’s there, curled into a ball and asleep in bed. “Fuck,” I hiss.
She’s just tired. Leaving her alone, I turn toward the kitchen to see if I can attempt to come up with something that is edible. Thankfully there are eggs, bacon, and canned biscuits in the fridge.
I quickly throw the breakfast-for-dinner together and plate the food before I go back into the bedroom to wake Channing up from her nap. She’s in the exact same position as she was just a few moments ago. Slowly, I sit down on the side of the bed and run the backs of my fingers along the side of her face. She hums in her sleep and buries herself deeper into the pillow.
“Wake up, sweetheart,” I murmur.
She hums, her eyes staying closed. “I attempted dinner,” I admit with a chuckle.
One of her eyes slowly opens and she looks up at me. “That should be interesting,” she says, her lips slowly turning up into a smile.
“Eggs, bacon, and biscuits,” I shrug.
She rolls onto her back, her eyes wide and meeting mine. “Sounds amazing,” she grins. I shake my head a couple times, unbelieving that she would ever think anything I do is amazing, especially my cooking. Well, except my cock, I already know that’s fucking amazing.
“Come eat,” I grunt as my cock hardens at the thought of being inside of her again. I could stay buried inside of her all day, every day, never leaving our bed if I could.
She sits up slowly, stretching her body, her nipples hard as she arches her back. She’s not wearing a bra, and I’m unable to look anywhere but at the hardened buds beneath her top. I want them in my mouth, I want to taste them. I haven’t sucked on her, anywhere, in hours—which feels like years.
Tamping down my urge to tackle her, fill her, and fuck her until she’s screaming, I reach my hand out toward her. She slips her palm in mine as she stands to her feet. Together we walk into the kitchen. The food that I thought was acceptable, looks inedible when she’s standing next to me.
I cringe at my lack of cooking skills. Channing sits down at the table first, I follow her lead and watch as she starts to eat. She moans, causing me to shift in my seat, my cock aching to be inside of her.
“Amazing,” she says around her bite of food.
“Liar,” I grin.
Her blue eyes meet mine and I bite back my own moan at the wide innocence staring back at me. This fucking woman. How James could even fathom to treat her the way he had, I’ll never know. She’s pure innocent beauty staring back at me. I couldn’t imagine hurting her the way he did, not ever.
CHANNING
Rylan makes me feel beautiful. He makes me feel cherished. It’s foreign and yet, I find that I’m in awe of him, of how he can make me feel this way about myself. I’ve never thought that I was particularly pretty, or special in any way until I met him.
His past is ugly, his sins running deep and thick. However, mine run alongside his own. I knew what I did was wrong, and I found it hard to care at the time. I clung to the hope that James would leave his wife for me, I wanted him to be completely mine and nobody else’s.
It was childish. Stupid and immature. I regret every second I spent with him, except for one. I don’t regret this baby. Slipping my hand to my stomach, I feel the hardness of my swelling belly and I smile. I can never regret the life that grows inside of me. Not yesterday, not today, not tomorrow—not ever.
“Are you ready to get married?” Rylan asks.
His eyes are boring into mine, focused and unwavering. I glance down at the small band that rests on my finger and then look back up to him.
“I am. So, so ready,” I admit. His lips twitch in a smile and he dips his head, returning his attention back to his food.
We finish our breakfast-for-dinner in comfortable silence. He seems a little on edge, a little lost inside of his own head. I watch as he cleans up the dishes, again he doesn’t allow me to do any housework while he’s here and just the idea makes a smile appear on my lips. I love that he wants to take care of me, that he tries to lessen my burdens.
“Do you think I should go back to work at the diner?” I ask.
He’s rinsing off the last dish and I watch as his back straightens and his shoulders immediately bunch from my words. He slowly sets down the plate, then turns to face me. He rests his ass against the counter, then he moves his hands to grip the edges next to his thighs. His stance is telling, his white-knuckled grip even more so.
“I want you to think that it is your decision,” he says slowly. His eyes lift to mine, and his jaw is clenched tightly. I suck in a breath at the anger that swirls in his eyes, or maybe it isn’t anger, maybe it’s something else. It frightens me, that’s all I know. “But I can’t have you go back there. Never again,” he announces.
I gulp, my brows snapping together in confusion. “Because of James?” I chance asking.
Rylan closes his eyes for a moment, and I watch as pain slices across his face. When he reopens, and his gaze meets mine, I understand completely. He’s scared. Frightened that what happened, will happen again, and maybe the outcome won’t be favorable.
Slowly, I rise to my feet. I walk over to him, taking even steps until I’m directly in front of his body. Without a word, I slide my arms around his waist and press my chest against his. Turning my head to the side, I rest my cheek against his chest. I can hear his racing heart beneath my ear. His arms immediately lift and one of his hands press against my back, while the other tangles in my hair.
I feel his mouth against the top of my head and close my eyes when he inhales the scent of my hair deeply. “I know he won’t come after you, not anytime soon. It doesn’t take away my fears. I’m scared that every time I get home from work, you won’t be here,” he admits.
Holding him a bit tighter, I pinch my eyes closed, tears welling and threatening to fall from his words. “I’m not going anywhere,” I breathe.
He chuckles, his fingers flexing in my hair. Tugging my head back, he looks down at me, his features softer than they were just moments ago. “I know, sweetheart. But fuck,” he hisses. “We got two fucked up families that are just biding their time. I can feel it.”
I frown.
He’s not wrong.
“They wouldn’t. You don’t think?”
Rylan shakes his head once. His gaze stays connected to my own. “I don’t want to think about it, fuck. It’s all I can think about though. James and them did their shit, and it’s just a matter of time before my family or yours does something too. It’s like I can fucking feel the doom hanging above us,” I explain.
I nod, biting on the corner of my lip. “Which is why you don’t want me going back to work?” I guess.
His fingers flex in my hair again, my scalp screams slightly, but it doesn’t necessarily hurt. In fact, it doesn’t hurt at all. I feel warm, clenching my thighs together I wonder if I will ever get used to the way this man makes me feel? I hope that I don’t. I hope that he always makes me feel this way, this happy—this turned on.
“I don’t want you to go bac
k to work because I want you to fucking rest. I have no doubt that if someone wanted to hurt you, here or at the diner, they’d find a way. If I could lock you away forever to keep you safe, you bet your fucking ass that I would.”
Slipping one of my arms from around his waist, I lift my hand and cup his cheeks. His rough stubble is scratchy beneath my palm, a sensation that I adore between my thighs. A shiver rolls through me as I think about that for a brief moment.
“I’ll rest, Rylan. I’ll be safe, too,” I breathe.
His eyes blink slowly, then he dips his head and his lips touch mine. They hold me hostage, and I let out a moan when his tongue tastes me. My mouth automatically opens, and he fills me. His hand grips my hair tighter, his other hand slides down to grab ahold of my ass, his fingers digging into me there. He kisses me breathless, he kisses me until we’re both breathless then he rests his forehead against my own.
“I love you, Channing. I won’t let anything happen to you, not ever again,” he rasps.
The tears that had filled my eyes, they fall. I love this man. He is everything. He and this baby are my entire world. I won’t let anything happen to me either, because it would kill him, and I can’t do that to him. I can’t let him be lost or be alone. Not ever again.
Chapter Thirty-Two
RYLAN
My heart leaps from my chest when I hear the loud banging on the front door. Hurrying out of bed, I grab my pants from the floor and pull them up my legs as quickly as possible. Looking through the peephole, I frown at the sight in front of me.
“Dad?” I ask, pulling the door open.
It’s as if I spoke him into existence. I had no doubt he would darken my door again, as will my mother and Channing’s. I was just hoping it wasn’t going to be tonight, or anytime soon.
He clears his throat, his sunken eyes meeting my own. At one time my father seemed huge, dominating, powerful and unbreakable. Right now? He’s sucked in, dirty, and worthless. I pity him. I don’t hate him, hell I don’t even dislike him, I just pity him.
“Your mom. She’s been picked up for prostitution. Need money to get her out,” he mumbles.
I shake my head. “Sorry, can’t help you. Got a baby on the way, can’t waste what little money I have on a junkie who whores herself,” I shrug.
I sound cold and ruthless, as if I don’t give a fuck, but hearing the words prostitution in regards to my mother is like a punch to the gut. She’s lost, they both are, they’re fucking gone. Not that they were ever really present. Not unless I fed their habits.
“You don’t give a shit about your own blood?” my dad asks me angrily.
I shake my head. “I did, for a long time. Even when I shouldn’t have. I can’t anymore. I got my own family to worry about. You and Mom, you’re adults. This toxic shit is over. I warned you not to come over again or I’d call the sheriff.”
He reaches for me, his weak hand slapping against my chest. “We’re drowning, son.” His eyes plead with my own, and I want to give in, just like I always have. Lifting my hand, I wrap my fingers around his wrist and squeeze.
“I’m clean. I’m straight. I am not involved in any of the shit you guys do separately, or together. Mom got herself in a bind. Maybe she’ll straighten her shit up, and maybe you will too. Maybe neither of you ever will. Thing is, neither of you are my concern any longer.” I gently push my father off of the porch.
Closing the door behind me, I lock it and lean my back against it, closing my eyes when I do and letting out a deep sigh.
“You did the right thing,” a sweet voice whispers from the dark.
Slowly I open my eyes, finding Channing standing at the mouth of the small hallway. I don’t move from my spot. I don’t attempt to make my way toward her. I stay planted. Unsure of how much she heard, and what she must think of me by turning my own parents away. She claims I did the right thing but did she hear it all?
“You would have continued on your path of self-destruction had you not gone to prison, wouldn’t you?” I gulp.
Nodding, I close my eyes again, visions of the past five years swimming through my head. I would have kept dealing, kept using, kept on moving forward until I either OD’d or was killed. “I wouldn’t have stopped. Not until I was dead or in jail.”
I feel her body press against mine, her soft tits and round stomach against my chest before I open my eyes. Her breath fans my face, her head tipped back and those fucking blue eyes focused on me. “Thank God jail came first,” she rasps.
Lifting my hands, I cup her soft cheeks, brushing her lips with my thumbs. “Thank fuck it happened when it did. I’ll always mourn the lives that I selfishly took. But I’ll always be grateful that it happened at the time that it did, because five years in hell brought me to you.”
Her mouth opens to say something else, but I don’t allow her to speak. Reaching down to the back of her thighs, I pick her up and carry her to bed. In just a few hours Channing is going to be my wife. This baby will be mine as far as the rest of the world is concerned, and our future will finally begin.
I can’t worry about my parents, about the mistakes they continue to make in their lives. My focus has to be on Channing, it has to be on this new life that is on its way. Once we’re both exhausted, again, we fall asleep wrapped in one another’s arms.
Well, Channing falls asleep. I watch her, content to run my fingers through her soft as shit hair. I can tell my mind is spinning too goddamn fast for me to fall asleep. Tomorrow is going to be rough at work, maybe my adrenaline for the wedding will carry me through the work morning.
Maybe my mind will be so busy thinking of Channing, of our wedding night, that I won’t worry over my mother. I shouldn’t give a fuck, but I do, and I have a feeling that I always will. The hours tick by until my alarm sounds at four in the morning. I quickly silence it, then roll out of bed and make my way toward the shower.
Once I’m dressed for work, I walk to the bedroom door and freeze, turning back to Channing, my lips turn up into a smile. In just a few short hours she’ll be mine. Completely and totally mine. She rolls from one side to the other and the sheet gets tangled, showing off her bare ass when she finally settles. Mine. All mine. I can’t fucking wait.
A horn honks from outside and my body jerks. Quickly, I leave the house, careful to lock the front door behind me. Today I only have to work a half a day, and then it will be here, my future will be changed—forever. Not that it already hasn’t been. Just one glance at Channing changed the entire course of my life. This is just the final step to solidify our lives together.
“Hey,” I greet as I climb into Wyatt’s truck.
He doesn’t say anything, instead he throws a box toward me.
“What’s this?” I ask. He stays silent as he shifts the truck into drive and then he takes off down the road.
Slowly, I open the small box. It’s not wrapped, just a plain black box with a lid, almost like a watch box. I slowly lift the lid, expecting to see a watch of some kind. What I don’t expect to see are a set of keys.
“Wyatt?” I ask.
Without looking toward me, he clears his throat. “You won’t be able to find anyone to rent to y’all. I bought my house on the cheap. Been thinkin’ about selling and upgrading anyway. Didn’t need to really, not with me being alone. Want you and Channing to have a good start together. Pay me whatever y’all are paying now in rent and I’m gonna put an offer in on this little piece of land I found out near Ford’s ranch.”
My throat closes, my saliva feels thick as I attempt to swallow it down. “I can’t. We can’t,” I rasp.
He grunts. “You can and you will. Got a baby coming. You two need a good place to raise that baby. You both deserve a decent hand up in life. Somethin’ neither of you were ever given. I can help, so I’m going to. You’re my blood, Ry. She’s about to be my family, and I’m fixin’ to be Uncle Wyatt. Proud as fuck of you and the new leaf you’ve turned over. Proud as fuck, Ry.”
His words are too much. The em
otion building inside of me is too much. When we arrive at the job site, he shifts the truck into park but doesn’t make a move to get out.
“I’ll make it up to you, Wyatt. Swear to Christ I will make it all up to you. Everything you’ve helped me with, I’ll pay it back tenfold,” I promise.
He reaches out, wrapping his fingers around my shoulder and squeezing. His eyes focus on mine and his words, they fucking blow me away yet again. “Want to pay me back?” he asks. “Then fucking live a good life. Take care of your family, love them, and never give up. Never stop trying to give them everything you never had, everything Channing never had.”
“Always,” I vow. “Fucking always.”
He nods once. “Good.”
We exit the truck, neither of us saying another word about the conversation. Once we arrive at the work trucks. Wyatt turns to me. “Monday the house is yours. I’m moving out this weekend.”
I don’t ask him where he’s going. He doesn’t offer either. I lift my chin in acknowledgment, but otherwise, don’t say a word. There is something up with him. Since he saw that Exeter chick, something has changed. It wasn’t just Sammi, it’s so much more than his past with her. Exeter isn’t her, and yet, he’s all fucked up about her, too.
Fuck. I hope my cousin finds his happiness, and soon. Like fucking tomorrow. I can’t stand not to see him happy, especially when he’s doing so much to ensure that I am, that we are taken care of. He deserves everything that I have, and so much fucking more.
CHANNING
Lulamae lifts her brow at me as I walk out of the duplex. I’m not wearing anything remotely close to traditional. Not for a bride anyhow. It doesn’t matter. I’m pregnant with another man’s baby, nothing about this relationship with Rylan is traditional anyway.
“That’s new for a wedding,” she huffs.
Clarence clears his throat next to her. They are following me to the courthouse to meet Wyatt and Rylan. Our three witnesses, the most important people in our lives currently, our only family. I don’t mind it, actually I like that it isn’t going to be big. It’s perfect.
CONVICT: An Unfit Hero Novel Page 24
