by Lucian Bane
“Very fine,” Tara said with a glowing smile.
Lucian really loved that goofball. Ol’ Steve didn’t know it, but while Lucian was teaching him how to master and rule his wife’s fire, he’d have Tara teaching Susan how to stoke his. And then maybe, just maybe his buddy might learn to loosen up and enjoy sex more.
“So,” Tara said, patting Steve’s shoulder. “Today is the day we formulate that plan.” Tara gave a triumphant fist jab in the air with the whisper.
“Madam,” Steve said with eyes closed and utmost confidence, “Consider the plan… mastered.” He tucked his chin at that last and cut the air with both hands in the safe gesture.
Lucian was pretty sure Steve had done nothing but think all about it during their entire honeymoon in between running from his wife. Lucian winked at Tara, nodding in agreement before her tits stole his attention. They were already bigger, he was sure. He jerked his gaze up to hers and found dumbfounded raised brows aimed at him.
“I’m so very hungry,” Lucian looked at Steve. “I believe your lovely wife has been busy slaving away in the kitchen.”
Steve led the way downstairs and Lucian and Tara followed on his heels, eyeing each other with smiles while Steve chattered on and on about what a great cook his wife was. Lucian filed that interesting tidbit away in his “fix Steve” folder. Judging by the way he raved about her food, that was certainly one way into his wee little heart. Lucian just needed to figure out how to get that passion from his heart to his dick. Then it’d be on.
Chapter Four
Lucian reached below the kitchen table and caressed Tara’s lower abdomen where their baby was growing, as he slid the blueprint to Steve and pointed. “This would be the main classroom—can also serve as a living room. Kitchen, laundry, bath, all centrally located with three bedrooms upstairs and two baths.”
Steve nodded slowly. “Nice little starter home for the newlyweds, I think?” He glanced at Susan.
“Beats our first home,” she muttered. “You remember that shotgun shack?”
“Do I ever,” Steve muttered back, sliding the plan back. “When do they start?”
“As soon as we make the calls.” He looked at Tara. “Which… now that I think about it…”
“What?” she wondered.
“Who do we get to do this? A local?”
She seemed to consider, poking her lower lip out. “I’m sure we can find somebody local.”
“Providing jobs can’t hurt a small town,” Susan said. “Would be a positive for sure.”
“Or a negative if it’s the wrong person.” Tara chewed on her thumbnail now.
“Do you know of any construction workers?” Lucian asked Tara.
“I know just about everybody in this town and yes, I know a few qualified… prospects.”
Lucian didn’t miss the hitch in her tone and made a note to inquire later. “Anybody we’d mind hiring?” As in some sixty-year-old?
“How about we check out the few people I might trust and go from there,” she suggested, sipping on her one allowed cup of coffee.
“Push comes to shove,” Lucian watched her reaction, “we can hire out of town.”
“Oh no no,” Tara shook her head. “Susan is right about using locals but not because it will make people like us. It will make them not have reason to hate us. The goody two-shoe couple doesn’t think their town can do the job.” She snorted lightly and nodded. “Sure not opening that coffin.”
Susan pushed a lock of thick blonde hair behind her ear where a pink jawbreaker-sized earring waved about. Everything matched that, her lips, her tablet, nails, and even her glitter ink pen. “So how long does something like this take?” She glanced from Steve to Lucian.
“I have no clue,” Lucian said honestly. Hardly his forte.
“I’d say around three months,” Tara said. Again she had that hitch in her tone like she knew more than was letting on. Lucian studied her trying to recall if any of the men in her life were linked to construction. He glanced at Steve and Susan, ready to end the meeting immediately to find out what was up.
“What about the couples?” Steve said.
“How many do we need again?” Susan asked. “Six?”
“Five,” Tara said, “but counting you guys, only four. And I don’t trust a single soul in this town.” Dread edged her tone.
“Well, we need to find them,” Lucian said. “Anyway we can start profiling our options?”
Tara scrubbed her face and then took hold of her coffee cup, looking toward him. “Not sure how.”
“Oh!” Susan gasped. “What about a yearbook?”
Lucian looked at Tara, wondering if she might have that. Hoping even. A moment of waiting passed and Tara glanced at Lucian seeming to just realize she would be the one that needed to answer that. What was wrong with her? “A yearbook…” She narrowed her gaze with the mumble like she was confused about what a yearbook was, geez.
“Do you have one?” Susan asked.
Tara looked suddenly trapped. “I do,” she said. “Be better to find a more… thorough way, maybe at the city hall. I’m sure there’s something we can use, the population or maybe the post office?” she suggested.
Hiding her yearbook. Interesting.
Susan nodded. “Very good idea,” she wrote furiously in her notebook. “We can pick out the best prospects,” Susan said, “and then we can figure a way to approach them.”
“Oh,” Steve said suddenly. “What bout curriculum, I’ve been wondering what you had in mind for that. And supplies. The school related kind I mean. Paper, pencils, text book on what you’re teaching?”
Susan giggled. “Award stickers?”
Lucian slid his hand on Tara’s leg, wishing she’d put one of her hands under the table so he could hold it. “Yes, I have thought a lot about it.” At feeling the weight of all their gazes, he sighed. “And I have no goddamn clue what to do. I mean I know a bunch of things but I don’t have them in a teachable format, a dot-to-dot.”
“Well,” Steve began in his forever helpful tone, “then you just need to make one.”
“Oh,” Susan gasped, “Like a For Dummies book?” She glanced between them. “You could formulate it like that?”
Tara regarded Lucian with raised brows. “That’s actually not a bad idea.”
“Dom For Dummies,” he said, wanting to laugh.
“You could certainly follow the format,” Steve said.
“Yes, that could work,” Lucian agreed. “I need something simple. To the point. Adaptable.”
“Are you going to have workbooks for the couples to do together?” Susan asked.
At hearing the eager arousal in Susan’s tone, Lucian snapped his gaze to the safety of Tara. “Hmm?” he raised his brows. “What do you think?”
She smiled at seeing his distress. “Oh yes. We should definitely have manuals, and how to’s, and flow charts.”
“Flow charts,” Steve muttered, appearing disgusted.
Susan on the other hand gasped in joy. “Yes,” she explained to him. “To show you exactly how to do things.”
She’d grabbed his arm and Steve looked down at it, obviously fighting not to recoil from her touch and no doubt words.
Steve gave Lucian a please say this isn’t true look and Lucian narrowed his gaze with an inconspicuous shake of his head that slowly un-crimped Steve’s brow.
“Okay then!” Lucian slapped the table lightly; ready to talk to Tara about all the weird vibes she was giving off. “We’ll go get started narrowing down our couple options upstairs. Maybe we can start with her yearbook and go from there.”
“What should we do?” Steve asked, sounding panicked.
“Uhhh,” Lucian looked at Tara, raising his brows.
Tara shrugged slowly then suggested, “How about you and Susan find out about codes and permits for building?”
“Should we call?” Steve asked. “What do we say?”
Yeah bad idea. “Right.” Tara finally put her hand on her lap and Lucian grab
bed it. “Better wait till we have our story straight on that one.”
“We could start picking out materials?” Susan suggested. “I’m really good with interior décor.”
“Ohhh, that she is.” Steve’s wide eyes locked on the table as he nodded.
Susan turned a little, regarding him. “What?”
He glanced at her. “What?”
“You say that with attitude.”
“I had no attitude,” he whispered, trying to be discreet even though they sat right there. “I honestly think you have a gift.”
She gave a light snort and nodded at him. “Maybe if you were home more, I wouldn’t want to spend all the money on these things.”
Steve gave a light gasp of incredulity, indicating Susan hit a very bad nerve with him. “How can I stay home if you’re spending all the money, what do you suppose we should live off of? Are we to eat the drapes and sleep under the stars in fancy house robes? Shower in your jewelry? Use one of your Keurigs for a toilet?”
Ohhhh kay.
“I bought that second Keurig because the first one was too small. I told you this!”
“For what?!” Steve said incredulous. “Are you having Keurig brawls while I’m gone?”
Lucian squeezed Tara’s hand and he scooted his chair back. Tara immediately followed suit and said, “While you two work out those details, we’ll be upstairs.”
Steve snapped his face to us. “When should we reconvene?”
“I think they want some privacy,” Susan said. “You wouldn’t know about that, though would you?”
Steve ignored her and looked at his watch while Lucian began toward the stairs with Tara. “I think we could reconvene at eight this evening?”
“That works,” Tara called back.
“Works for me too,” Lucian tossed over his shoulder, pulling Tara quickly before they could stop them again.
Judging by the heated whispers they left behind, they were safe. Finally when they got to the room, he expected Tara to pretend everything was okay, but instead she sat on the bed and stared into the air before her.
“Shit,” he whispered, hurrying to sit next to her. “I knew something was wrong with you. Talk to me.”
She jutted her jaw out and shook her head a little before giving a slightly careless smirk. “I don’t…”
When nothing came out, he pressed, “You don’t what?”
“I don’t… want to do this.”
Lucian knelt before her and grabbed her hands, his heart plummeting at what that could mean. “Do what? Talk to me. What’s wrong?”
She looked off to the right, worrying at her lower lip. “I just… I hate this town,” she muttered.
Lucian got back on the bed and made her look at him. “Why, baby? What happened?”
“What happened? You know what happened.”
“The dumb fucker who left you at the altar so that I could have you?”
She sighed and lowered her head. “It’s not just that.”
“Oh my God,” Lucian said, incredulous. “Tell me. Tell me all your secrets young lady.”
“This isn’t funny,” she finally said after a bit. “These aren’t fun secrets. They’re stupid. Like this whole thing and this whole town.” She got up and began pacing. “I wouldn’t have even come back if it weren’t for Gramma. The people here are mean and cruel.”
“What the fuck did they do to you?” Anger prickled Lucian’s skin at hearing that somebody else had hurt her.
She did that hand-shaking thing as she paced now. “I just hate it here. I don’t belong here, I never have. I’m the stupid, ugly nerd girl that got left at the altar and who got raped and… ” she covered her face with both hands and Lucian flew off the bed and pulled her into his arms.
“Okay, okay. I got you,” he whispered while she sobbed.
“I don’t want you to see my stupid yearbook,” she cried.
“Why baby?”
“Because I’m so ugly and stupid and a noooobodyyyyy,” she wailed into his chest. “They picked on me… all my life. Tara the tarantula. Tara the twig. I was weird and I had weird habits.”
Lucian’s chest hurt with her pain as he held her tight and cooed to her. “I don’t care if you were the weirdest, or paper-thin skinny, you were not ugly, you were precious and beautiful.”
“You don’t even know, you have no idea!”
Lucian took hold of her face. “I know that you’re my dream come true,” he whispered as emotions ran him over. “You’re my princess, love.” He kissed at her lips softly. “You’re my Heaven on Earth, remember? Please you have to know that, tell me you know that.”
“I don’t want you to see!” she cried again. “I don’t want you to realize….” She pulled away and turned, holding her waist.
“Realize what, Tara?” Lucian could hardly breathe with the need for his love to be enough. “Don’t fucking do this, baby. How many ways have I proved to you that I love you? I would die for you, you know this! What you looked like at twelve won’t change that except to make me love you more, want to protect you more. Just like it would do for you. You don’t think I have moments in childhood that I’m not proud of? I was the skinny faggot that should join ballet, not football. Those words came from my father,” he gasped, amazed that his throat fucking closed up at that memory.
Tara flew back into his arms and hugged him. The rush of joy it gave him was so amazing, Lucian didn’t care about his pain, his past, or the lies that broke him. He cared that for five minutes, the woman he loved was a million miles away from him and now she was back. That’s all that mattered. That right there, the love flowing between them.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she whispered. “You’re so right. I don’t deserve you, it’s hard to make myself feel worthy Lucian. It’s hard in this town!”
“I know, I know. It brings back old shit, I get it. I do. You know I understand that.”
She nodded. “Like at your dads?”
“Yes, sweetheart. Brought back all my demons. It stole the man you made me into, blinded me and crippled me. The past is ruthless whenever you return and stand in it, but as long as we’re standing together, fuck baby...” he put his forehead to hers. “Who or what can hurt us? Tell me that.”
“I know, I know,” she cried, nodding. “You’re right, I’m sorry.” Lucian watched her fly to the closet and pull down something off the shelf. She handed a book to him and nodded at it. “Here. It’s in there.”
Lucian took it from her. “You sure you’re ok?”
She took the book and opened it, flipping through the pages then handed it back, tears rolling down her cheeks. “There,” she squeaked. “Third row, second to last picture. The American Ethiopian.”
Lucian’s heart raced as his eyes hungrily sought the fifteen-year-old that changed his world forever. He gasped when he found her. He’d planned on making light of it but all of a sudden he was choking on emotion at seeing. The look on her tiny face. The strength and resolve in that adorable tiny face. A look that said, I’m strong and you don’t hurt me, you don’t scare me. Only she wasn’t strong, and she was so fucking scared and alone in the cruel world. She kept it all inside, she pretended it was all normal while she fought not to drown and dared not cry. Not where they could see.
He knew that existence.
Lucian turned away from her, gripping the book tightly.
“What?” she whispered, touching his shoulder.
He shook his head, needing air. “You have no idea,” he barely managed through his closed throat. “You have no idea.”
Tara took the book from him and Lucian covered his face with both hands, fighting not to completely lose his shit. The last thing he expected when he looked at that picture was him falling apart—him sitting in his own broken past, his own shitty childhood.
Tara wrapped her arms around him and it was an instant lifeline as he fought not to be sucked down. He grabbed hold of it and held on tight, barely hearing her words as their childhood
s clashed with a fury. They stood in that room, Tara’s childhood bedroom, their honeymoon suite, and cried in each other’s arms. Both battered to shit, both broken. But they were broken together now. Him, her, and their son or daughter. His very own family. And that’s all that mattered. They were together, and together they were new and whole and so fucking alive.
Chapter Five
“So far we have two prospects,” Lucian whispered to Steve and Susan that evening.
“Two?”
“Trust me,” Tara muttered, “there are very, very few…females in this town I’d trust and other than that, well, I don’t know all of them.”
“Okay,” Steve nodded. “It’s a start. I’m sure we’ll find more as we scope it out.”
“Well, I’ve put together a presentation,” Susan said, sliding over an impressive tri-folder of interior artwork.
“Wow,” Tara said, turning it. “This is…”
“Amazing,” Lucian said in all honesty.
“I told you she had a gift.” Steve smiled with eyes closed and brows raised.
“Oh please,” Susan pffed. “I threw that together. See here?” She glided her perfect nails over the materials before dishing out psychological benefits of the chosen fabrics. “And the red silk in the bedrooms,” her voice lowered to seductive. “Well, I think we know what that does for one’s mood.” Her smile suddenly disappeared with, “Well, most of us know.”
Before a fight could break out, Lucian hurried to the next item. “The toys,” he said. “What about that? Have you given anymore thought to practical uses for any?”
Steve gave a classic smile of cloaked agony with his eyes closed. “I have divided the… items… into three sections.”
“Sexions.” Susan giggled and rammed Steve with her shoulder. “Get it? Sex—“
“I get it!” Steve snapped before turning to her and adding a pleasant, “Susan.” Just like a man striving to turn over a new leaf with his wife. Lucian had to admire that about him. He was a good man.
Steve got back to serious business and gravely looked at Lucian, clasping his hands together on the table before him and straightening his spine. “We have the unclean. The unfathomable. And the demonical.”
