by Ella Goode
“Babe, don’t worry. I’ve got this taken care of.”
She falls silent so I reach across the console and tuck my hand between her legs. “I should make you drive,” I say, “and see how good you are at it while I’m finger-fucking you.”
“You’d need a new car,” she says but scoots down so that her hot pussy is resting against my fingers. Good thing I can navigate with one hand.
“I was getting tired of this piece of shit anyway.” I nudge aside her panties and stroke her rapidly swelling lips.
She wriggles against me. “Yeah, this is a terrible car. We probably need a bigger car with an actual backseat.”
“And maybe a driver.” I slide one finger inside of her.
“Yeah, a driver might be—” She lets out a gasp as I curl my finger forward to rub against that tiny patch of skin that makes her go crazy.
“Let go, babe. Don’t worry about a thing. Carter’s going to take care of all of it,” I croon. She does as I ask, tipping her head back, bracing her feet against the dashboard and riding my fingers until a nice orgasm ripples through her body. I keep my fingers there the whole ride, even after she falls asleep against the door because I want her to know I’m always going to be with her.
She comes to as the car slows down in front of a dated apartment complex. There’s no gate, just a big cracked asphalt parking lot. She makes me use some wetwipes from her purse to wipe my fingers off because the idea of me going into her mom’s house while Ricky is there with her scent on my body grosses her out. I kind of liked it, but I remind myself that it’s not about me. It’s about her, so I wipe off any trace of her and then kiss her hard.
“Don’t worry, babe. It’s gonna be all right.” I take her hand in mine and we climb the stairs. She uses a key to let us in the front door.
“It’s at the end. Apartment 14,” she tells me.
Apartment 14 has a dirty welcome mat with the first three letters worn away so it only says “come.”
“That’s Ricky’s doing,” Mallory says. “He’s got the sense of humor of a ten-year-old.”
“Sounds like an insult to ten-year-olds,” I quip. “You got the key to the apartment, too?”
She fits it into the door and shoves it open. It’s quiet, which surprises me. I thought someone would be up. It’s Saturday and nearly ten a.m.
“They might still be in bed,” Mallory whispers. She points to a closed door off to the side. I release her hand. Seeing this place makes me wish I’d found my girl sooner.
“Stay here. No need for you to see old Ricky’s sausage.” Although he seems like the type to pull his shorts on immediately after sex.
Mallory grimaces at the thought. “Yeah, okay.”
I start for the door, but she grabs my hand. “Please, don’t do anything that gets you into trouble.” She pleads with her eyes.
“I won’t,” I reassure her, giving her another hard kiss. After she releases me, I cross the room and then with one swift move, kick in the door. Sure enough, the two were sleeping. Mallory’s mom shoots out of bed, clutching the sheets to her chest and leaving Ricky with his boxer-clad ass exposed.
There’s a glass of half drunk amber liquid on the nightstand. I grab it and throw it in the man’s face. He jerks up with a sputter.
“What the fuck?” he roars.
“Who are you?” Mallory’s mom squeaks.
“You’re Ricky, right?” I just want to make sure I’m going to beat the right man.
“Yeah, who are you, punk?” He starts to get up but I lay him out with a right hook.
“Oh my God,” cries the mom. “Did Pat send you? I swear we were going to pay for those drugs. We just got a little behind.”
“Shut up, bitch,” growls Ricky, holding his jaw with his right hand. “Look, if you are from Pat, we’ve already made a deal.”
“Not from Pat, but it’s nice to hear you admit you’re a dirty criminal. Come on in, honey. The asshole is getting dressed.” I swipe a shirt off the floor and toss it to him. “You, old lady, your daughter is here. She’s got something to say. After she says it, I’m going to finish teaching Ricky a lesson on what happens when he disrespects my girl and then I’ll leave you five hundred. That’s the last of the contact we’re all going to have. Got it?”
“Mallory? Mallory is here?” Her mom flies across the room. I step in her path before she can reach my girl.
“Uh-uh. No more manipulations out of you. Mallory is doing the talking and you’re going to listen.” I snap my fingers in Ricky’s direction. “I told you to put that shirt on. Don’t make me ask again.”
“Or what?” he sneers.
I leave the mom and walk over to the bed and slam the glass into the side of his face. He lets out another shout of pain and tries to tackle me. I step aside and he falls flat on his face. Mallory’s mom starts screaming while Ricky struggles to his feet. He charges again. Instead of stepping aside, I punch him in the jaw again. This time when he goes down, he doesn’t get up again. I throw the T-shirt on top of his exposed back.
“I thought you weren’t going to bury him,” Mallory says from the door.
I rub my knuckles with one hand. “I don’t see any dirt here. You got anything to say to your mom?”
Mallory gives me a stiff nod and turns to the older woman, who’s standing in the middle of the room with a sheet barely covering her body and her jaw gaping wide.
“I’m sorry I took Ricky’s wallet. Here it is with all the money intact. He was trying to get me into bed with him and I was worried he wouldn’t take no for an answer so I took his wallet and ran away.”
“What are you talking about? Ricky would never—”
“You either believe your daughter or you shut the hell up,” I snap. I know she told her mom before about Ricky and she brushed her off. Mallory’s mom was keeping Ricky around for the drugs. It isn’t him that she is necessarily picking over her own daughter but the addiction.
“What? How dare you—”
“Okay, you don’t have to have the money back.” I take Mallory’s hand and pretend to leave.
“Wait. Wait.”
We turn back. Mallory’s mom licks her lips.
“How much did you say was in the wallet?”
“How much do you want it to be?” I ask. “It can be more if you make sure Ricky forgets Mallory ever exists. Otherwise, I’ll be coming back to take your home, your job, and anything else you need to survive. I’ll put you out on the street so that you’ll have to beg on your knees to be fed.”
Beside me, Mallory grows still and silent because she knows I’ll do it. I can be an asshole, everyone knows that, but cross my girl and I’ll take that shit to the extreme. It won’t be pretty. I wouldn’t do any of these things to this woman because it’s Mallory’s fucking mother but I’m okay with scaring the dumbass into doing what I want.
“If you keep a leash on Ricky, I’ll send you money every month. It won’t be a lot. Just enough to feed you, clothe you, get you clean. And if you do get clean and sober and want a relationship with Mallory, we can re-evaluate, but it all depends on you making sure that Mallory gets to live her life free of any fear from this asshole here or anyone else. Got it?”
Mallory’s mom doesn’t have to think twice. This deal sounds great to her. “Yes. Yes.” She nods eagerly. She rubs her hands together as if she can feel the money.
“This work for you, babe?” I ask.
With sad eyes, Mallory nods. “Yes. It’s good for me.”
I take the wallet and toss it on top of Ricky’s back. “There you go. Keep your promises, lady, and there’s more where that comes from.”
To my great surprise, the mom doesn’t immediately fall on the wallet. She reaches out a hand in Mallory’s direction. “I’m sorry, honey. I really am. The drugs make me do things I don’t always want.”
Mallory releases a shaky breath. “I know, Mom. Get help, though, please?”
The woman nods her head. “I will. I love you, honey.”<
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Mallory closes her eyes for a moment, almost as if she can’t believe her own mom just said those words to her.
“Get yourself clean, Mom,” Mallory responds. She squeezes my hand and draws me out of the room.
“You all right?” I ask.
“Yes and no. I’m glad she’s getting help but I’m sorry for all that happened before. I don’t like seeing her in that condition.”
“I know. Just remember, though, you’re not alone anymore. You’ve got me.”
Mallory smiles. “I do, don’t I?”
I bring her hand to my lips. “Always and forever.”
“Getting into your car was a real gamble, Deuce, but it paid off.”
I grow hot under that sweet grin of hers. “Let’s get out of here,” I growl. I pick her up in my arms and walk out of her past into her future.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Mallory
“You think I can be a chef?” I ask Carter as I stir the sauce I’ve had on the stove for most of the afternoon. The sun is setting and Carter lights a fire. It’s hard to believe that this is my life. I’m still in high school but Carter and I are playing house. My cooking for us has become our normal and I’m finding it’s something I love to do. It also relaxes me. It feels natural and I’ve never really had the luxury of cooking whole meals before. Hell, I’ve never had an abundance of food to cook with. The pantry here is never ending. I think it’s bigger than my old bedroom at my mom's place. Food always seems to be popping up and being refilled. I’m pretty sure Felton comes over while we’re away at school and stocks it for us. When I’ve asked Carter about picking some things up they always seem to appear the next day.
“Think you can do anything you want, babe.” Both Carter and I are more relaxed since we got home from seeing my mother. We made love and passed out in each other’s arms. I think that nap was the best of my life.
I didn't know how heavy the weight on my shoulders had been until it was gone. I think Carter had been carrying some too. He wanted his turn with Ricky and to give my mother a warning. I was never more grateful for him being an asshole than I was when we were at their place. Carter delivered the message loud and clear in his arrogant way but also showed compassion for my mother by offering her a way out of that life. He gave her an option to get help. Something that I didn’t even know I wanted him to do until he’d done it. Carter was good at gauging me and he had hit the nail on the head. I loved him more than I ever thought was possible at that moment. That’s the thing about Carter, he always takes care of me and does what he thinks is best for me.
“I have to do something.” I shrug, going back over to the counter to chop the vegetables for our salad. I crafted homemade dressing for it. Gertie had passed on the recipe to me. She’s actually taught me a bunch of quick meals to make for two people. She has been Carter’s family chef for many years and she was more than happy to help me.
Carter has his pick of colleges. He’s got his career mapped out. He’s already made it clear that wherever he goes, I go. Maybe I should find that rude but I don’t. Of course I gave him lip about it but in the end we both know I’ll be going with him to whatever college he chooses. I’m just not sure what’s in the cards for me. I’ve never given it much thought. College isn’t something I was prepared to attend but I’d be lying if the idea of furthering my education doesn’t excite me.
“You don’t have to do anything.” I glance up at him. “Except me.” He winks. I roll my eyes but smile. “There are culinary schools everywhere,” he says when I go back to chopping the food. “Maybe we look into some? Hell, your cooking is so fucking good you could just be self-taught.”
“You’re just saying that.” Still I blush under the praise. He can’t be trusted. He thinks I’m good at everything I do.
“Babe. I’ve eaten at the best restaurants in the world. I know good food. Yours is fucking delicious.” His eyes meet mine to let me know he’s serious. “My tacos are still better than yours but no one is perfect.” He just couldn’t help himself. I smile bigger because I love our life and I love this man in front of me.
“I'd come over there and kiss you but we’d end up in bed and my bread is still in the oven and I don’t want it to burn.” I do an air kiss. He starts to get up but I playfully point my chopping knife at him. “Sit.” I try and keep my tone firm.
His eyebrows furrow together and he drops down into his chair. I’d almost call it pouting. His phone dings, distracting him for a moment. I know it’s probably his dad. He doesn't keep the sound on for many people. I know he and his dad are somewhat close but in the weeks I’ve been here I’ve yet to meet the man. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing at this point. Carter respects his father. He may not approve of his father’s relationships but he keeps that separate from their own. I think he’s just busy maybe? I know it’s not that Carter is trying to hide me away. He enjoys letting everyone know I’m his girl. We still come across people that are shocked by this revelation.
“You have enough for another?” Carter asks.
“Yeah, why?” I think I already know. My thoughts have conjured an answer.
“Dad’s coming over.” He drops the phone back down onto the counter, leaning back in his chair.
“Right now?” I drop the knife. My hands go immediately to my hair. I look down at what I’m wearing. I’m in Carter’s shirt and a pair of his boxers. I look a hot mess.
“You’re fine. It’s just my dad,” he says like it’s no big deal.
“What if he doesn't like me?” That’s a big deal! He already knows all about the wallet and the police station incident. I’m starting to panic a little inside.
“Don’t really give a shit if he does or doesn't. You’re not going anywhere.” Still he acts like this is no big deal.
“Carter!” I shout at him.
“Babe.” He gets up from the chair, coming over to me. He lifts me, setting me on the counter. “He’s going to like you. Everyone likes you.” He says the last part like it’s a bad thing that everyone likes me. “Trust me,” he says before he kisses me. Like all of his kisses do to me, I relax, letting him calm me.
It isn't until a throat is clearing that I jerk back to see a man standing there who looks very much like Carter. Only older with graying hair and a suit on.
“Knock, Dad,” Carter tells him as he steps back from me to head over to him.
“I did.” They give each other a half hug. I sit on the counter, not sure what to do. I lift my hand and wave like a dork. I want to use the same hand to facepalm myself. Carter walks toward me and before he can introduce me, I hop off the counter and hug his dad. I think he’s a little shocked but he hugs me back. I am nervous and my hands are sweaty so a handshake was out of the question.
“You must be my future daughter-in-law that I’ve heard so much about,” Mr. Franklin says before I can properly introduce myself. He probably thinks I’m crazy now. I don’t have to look at my face to know I’m blushing.
“What’s up with all the hugging?” Carter growls from beside me, pulling me back from his dad. His dad throws his head back and laughs at Carter’s jealousy.
“Deuce.” I smack his chest. “I just wanted to say thank you for everything. I know you helped with—“
His dad holds his hand up to stop me from talking. “Did she just call you Deuce?” he asks, looking to Carter, but Carter is looking down at me.
“You’re family, Mallory. Of course Dad would do anything for you,” he says, ignoring his dad’s question.
“Deuce is right,” Carter’s dad says. He gives me that same half smile Carter has.
“Only she can call me that.”
Carter’s dad’s smile turns to a full-on one.
“All right. I see what you mean about that prenup now.”
“Prenup?” How did we go from poking at Carter to talking about a prenup? Oh yeah. The daughter-in-law comment. Is that why he is here? Carter and I talked about getting married but that is
forever away. So I thought. Carter holds out his hand to his dad, who hands him a small blue box.
“I didn’t even give this to your mother.”
“I know.” Carter’s face is serious now. A look is exchanged between them in understanding.
“It smells wonderful but I think I should leave you to have your night. I’m sure we’ll have many more chances for dinner.” Carter’s dad hugs me this time.
“You’re good for him,” he says in my ear before letting me go. “Welcome to the family.” He turns to head out the door, leaving Carter and me standing there.
I turn to look at Carter, my eyes flicking to the small box in his giant hand. “Prenup?”
“We don’t need one.”
“’Cause we aren't getting married for a while?” I question. I’m not sure how I feel about that. I know I want to marry Carter, I just never thought it would be this soon, but the idea of it happening sooner rather than later fills me with excitement. I would really be his and he’d be mine.
“I’m not good at waiting when it comes to you.” He flicks open the box, falling to one knee. “I could have done this better but again, I’m not good at waiting when it comes to you.” I stare down at the beautiful antique ring. “It was my grandmother’s. She told me one day I’d give this ring to someone. I laughed. She only laughed back harder. I’m sure she is laughing down at me now.” He smiles. “Give me your hand, babe.”
I raise my shaking hand as he slips the ring onto my finger.
“You didn’t ask,” I point out.
“No, I didn’t.” He pulls me down. I fall into his lap. “You think I’d chance that?”
“You think I’d say no?” I wrap my arms around his neck as I straddle him.
“I don’t know. You can be a wild card sometimes. I never know what you’re going to say.”
“You love that about me,” I tease.
“I do,” he agrees. He leans in, brushing his mouth against mine. “Really you should be the one who’s called Deuce. Deuces Wild.”
