Diary of a Submissive (a Tomb of Ashen Tears Book 4)

by Kailee Reese Samuels

  His head jets up like a rocket blasting off. “What the hell, Iris?”

  “I’m serious,” I mutter, touching his cheek. “If you want to tap that, I am giving you a free pass tonight.”

  “No, I don’t want to tap that! Or dip that! Or do that!” he shuns as the mere thought repulses him. “Not just no…No, fucking way…No!”

  I can’t hold back my grin. “Really?”

  “I don’t even want to go to the damn thing,” he mumbles. “Nicky is insisting. He is shopping for a…”

  “… Victim?” I suggest.

  “No, a piece of ass,” he says, lightly rubbing my belly. “He’s acting weird.”

  Deacon pokes his head in. “Hey, babes…Do we want to fill the pool with floating lights or keep it available for use?”

  “Light it up!” I cheerily say as my phone rings, and my heart stops beating at the caller—Dr. Lani Johnson. “Wait!”

  My eyes flood because no matter what she says—it’s going to hurt. Bravely, I click accept and say, “Hello? Yes. Okay. Thank you. Goodbye.”

  Six words change my world.

  The boys stare at me. “Iris…”

  “I need to get up, Sal.” He rolls out of the way as I head for the door. “I can’t breathe. I need to go outside.”

  I step into the hallway and overhear Sal goad, “It’s yours, man.”

  Tears stream over my cheeks as I run down the stairs. There are people everywhere—my kitchen, my living room, my backyard, even my bathroom has a florist in it. The place is crawling with security like I’m a damn Queen.

  In my purse, I grab the keys for the Vette and dart out onto the bricked driveway barefooted.

  “Where is she going?” Georgia yells from the door as the boys chase after me. “Sinful Sally! Cutie patootie Cruz!”

  They sprint outside as I hurriedly rush to the driver’s side to try and get away. Deacon gently pummels his body against mine. “You aren’t leaving, princess!”

  “I can’t do this!” I cry uncontrollably. “I can’t do this!”

  “Yes, you can!”

  “I’m so scared of hurting one of you!”

  “You have to share this, baby girl,” he encourages as I twirl in his arms. “You don’t get to run away now just because you didn’t like the fortune cookie.”

  “It’s Sal’s…” I whisper, crying hysterically as he grins wide. “It’s Baby Raniero!”

  “Yes! Baby!” He picks me up, and I spot Sal standing by the door. He’s dangerously twitching like he may have a seizure at any moment. “It’s yours, fucker! You owe me!”

  His eyes close, and his arms lift to shield his face. I know he’s crying. “I need to go.”

  “Yes! Go!” He sets me down and swats my ass. “Hurry!”

  I prance across the driveway and float into his arms. He hastily spins me. “We’re having a baby!”

  “Yes!” I squeal, catching Deacon snapping pictures. “We are!”

  “You do realize…”

  Giggling and crying, I reply, “I know when it happened.”

  “Boston and Val’s funeral,” he regretfully comments. “Seven times and not one of them sober.”

  “Nope,” I laugh at the irony. “But baby boy, you nailed it.”

  “I told you I had good aim.”

  “Oh, my God!” I yip as we both realize it at the same time. “Give me your phone.”

  I punch in his code and flip through the contacts to call Lani back. “What date?” He scrolls through the calendar on his thick banded black watch. It’s so sexy on his arm. “Go with the 21st.” He grins. “Of March!”

  “I know that,” I snicker. “Duh!”

  “Hi! Lani! Date of conception we think was March 21st.” Every word I speak, his smile gets bigger. “Okay. Oh, wow! Really? Thank you!”

  I hand the phone back and beam a broad grin. “Oh, you’re gonna love this!” I delight with my secret. “Shit!”

  “Tell me!” he pleads, dropping to his knees. “Have a little compassion for a new Daddy?”

  “I am fifteen weeks and two days. And due on December 11th, but…” I lift a finger and do a little jog in place. “I have a window to Christmas Day!”

  “No way…” His eyes widen. “A Christmas baby?”

  “Yes!” He bounces up and lifts me high in the air as I glance around for Cruz. He’s gone. And so is my car.

  I panic “… Where is Deacon?”

  Kissing my cheek, he says, “I’m right here!”

  “Goddammit!” I curse as Sal hands me to him. “Don’t scare me!”

  “I had to move your car because the table and chair guys are on the way with their big truck, and if they hit my princess’ car, I would take out their teeth.”

  Sal quips, “… With a crowbar?”

  “No, but I might use some pliers.” He winks. “Yes, love, what were you saying?”

  “December 11th, due date!” I exclaim, never knowing happiness quite like this. “And maybe if we’re lucky—Christmas!”

  “A present just like me!” He grins. “Ha! Gotcha!”

  With a hand on my back and one on Deacon’s shoulder, Sal proudly says, “It cannot get any better than that, baby!”

  In the quiet of the bath later that night, I hear my car pull up. I glance at the clock. “It’s only 10:30. What the hell?” The door for the bathroom swings open, and Sal holds a bunch of red roses. “What are you doing home?”

  “Cruz and I bailed,” he informs, shredding the roses and sprinkling the petals into my bathwater. “Party was loud and obnoxious. When we left, Nicky was dancing on the bar.”

  “… You left your bachelor party?”

  Pulling more off, he drops a handful of petals over my head. “The party in your panties sounded a helluva lot more fun.”

  “God, you’re getting old!” I snark as he throws a whole rose head at me. “So, you just decided to go buy a dozen roses and come home to toss them at me?”

  “Yes! There was a vendor on the street.”

  I giggle. “You know you are not supposed to stay with me tonight.”

  “Do you think I am leaving you alone tonight?”

  “Nope.”

  “You got it!” He pegs another full bloom at me, and I barrel it back at him. “Are you having fun?”

  “Yes!” We laugh until I start crying. “I’m expecting the bottom to drop out at any moment.”

  “Baby,” he soothes, pulling off his shirt and putting the final rose stem in his mouth. He unfastens his jeans and pulls them open just enough to tease me. “Nothing bad is going to happen.”

  “Do you swear?”

  “Yes!”

  “You realize this is the point where someone gets shot or knifed or attacked by aliens or something terrible happens, and we don’t make it to the altar…”

  He starts laughing at me. “Hush and suck my dick. It’ll make you feel better.”

  “… And what will it do for you?”

  “Make the second shot last all night long.”

  I lift my hands. “Done deal, Master!”

  In the quiet of the dawn, I sneak downstairs for a glass of water. Passing by the theater, I spot Deacon with his head in Rowan’s lap. They’re sound asleep as popcorn, beer bottles, and controllers sit on the table.

  I smile.

  “It’s not a bad sight,” Sal mutters behind me. “It could’ve been much worse.”

  “It could’ve been Amber…”

  “Oh, God!” He picks me up and carries me back to bed.

  “What are we doing?”

  “Going back to sleep because you have a huge day ahead of you,” he says, setting me down in the bathroom. “Go twinkle.” He peers outside. “Change that. Get your things.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Cinco is here.”

  “Tell me you are kidding,” I say, not even bothering to wipe. “Holy fuck…what are they doing?”

  “They’re getting ready to hit the house!”

 
“Sal!” His fingers cover my mouth as he grabs the vest from the closet and secures it to me. “What are we going to do?”

  “Get some pants and shoes on,” he says.

  With sheer terror, I ask, “What about the house?”

  “Fuck the house!”

  Stumbling into the bathroom, Deacon asks, “What the hell is going on?”

  “Cinco.”

  “Fuck!” he roars. “What are we doing?”

  I question, “Where is all the security?”

  “At least six of them are offline,” Rowan informs. “Get her dress and his suit. What are you taking?”

  “Iris is driving the car. Cruz is driving the truck. Call Quinn to meet us at the church,” Sal barks orders to Rowan like he’s been doing it for years. “And get the jet ready.”

  “What do you want to do with the cars?”

  “We’ll leave them at the airport, Megan and Dom can take them back to Sugargrove.”

  “Stop!” I scream, feeling out of control. “Why are we not standing our ground?”

  “Because you are pregnant,” Deacon calmly whispers, holding the hanging bags. “And it isn’t worth the risk.”

  With tears in my eyes, I plead, “But all of my things are here.”

  “Brethren are inc,” Rowan warns as we follow Sal to the safe. “We need to get out of here because there is about to be a war at The Dollhouse.”

  “Holy crap!” I ask, staring at the stacks of bills as he dumps the contents of the safe into the duffel bag. My eyes widen in shock. “Where did you get all that cash?”

  “Mafia, baby.”

  “Clothes are in the truck,” Deacon informs, slightly winded as I watch the three of them work like a well-oiled machine. It is magnificent. “How many black boxes?”

  “Get four,” Sal says as I finally witness him in his element. “Not the big ones, either.”

  “We’ve got less than five minutes before Brethren arrive!” Rowan rallies like a mini-militant dictator. She’s so stupidly perfect for Cruz. “Move it! Do you have the rings?”

  “Yes!” Sal tosses on a shirt and wedges into his boots. “Go get Iris to the car!”

  “Lucas!” I scream, unable to move. “Please…”

  “I will be right there!” he assures as Rowan tosses the bags into the back of the truck, and I get inside the car. I roll down the windows and rap music blares.

  She asks, “How many dresses?”

  “Don’t worry about them,” I mutter in disbelief at how fast they can move me. “Shit! My shoes!”

  “Deacon got them,” she softly replies, holding my hand. “Silver and crystals?”

  “Yes,” I mumble, smiling, and rocking in the driver seat. “I’m scared, Rowan. Where are they?”

  “Oh my God,” she booms, laughing. “Cake, bubbles, and flowers inc.”

  They think of everything.

  Stopping at my window, Deacon squeezes my hand and kisses me. “I love you. It’s going to be okay, baby girl.”

  “Minute and a half!”

  Listening to the music, I bounce to the beat and shout, “Who is going first?”

  “Me!” Deacon yells, getting in the truck. “Because I will plow them over! I love you, slut.”

  “I love you too, wifey,” Sal charms, popping his hat on backward. “You ready?”

  “Let’s do this,” I breathe. “How long have you been working with Rowan?”

  He sticks his tongue out. “I love you, Angel. Breathe.” He cranks up the music. “Don’t think, just drive.”

  I glance over at those sad blue eyes, and he points at me. He pushes the garage door button, and we start the vehicles. “Thirty seconds!”

  “Hit it!” Deacon howls as he pulls out, and I ride the ass of Sal’s bitch.

  “Whatever you do, don’t look around!” Sal shouts as the Brethren pulls in when we exit. “Don’t watch, Dandy! Just drive.”

  “My house…”

  “I’ll build you ten more,” he promises as I hear bullets zipping through the air. I sob, knowing it will never be the same. “Don’t cry, Darlin’…Everything dies.”

  We hit the highway, heading for the Catholic church where Quinn is, and I pull out my phone as tears etch into my skin. I turn down the stereo. “Georgia?”

  “Yes, Ma’am?”

  “You know what is happening?”

  She breathes. “Yes.”

  “Level the Cinco compound,” I fearlessly command. “I want their table red. Make it fucking rain blood.”

  Sal glares at me. “This war was supposed to be between Immortal and Cinco.”

  “Plans change,” I hiss, flooring it behind the speeding Deacon. He gives an I Love You sign, and so do I. “It’s Cinco and Lotus now. They pissed off the wrong goddamned mother!”

  “Whoa!”

  “Call Muerte and Torrente,” I order, keeping my cool. “Tell them the flower cordially invites them to Les Pétales.”

  “What if we locate Cas Hope?”

  “Feed her to Nicky,” I sneer. “I hear he is starving.” I click the end, and Sal snarls, shaking his head. “Don’t tell me I need another lesson in building blocks?”

  “I humbly and respectfully bow before my Lotus Queen.”

  I smile. “Just fucking marry me, Raniero.”

  “Consider it done.”

  The Master

  In the small Catholic church outside of New Orleans, the candles flicker amongst the few arrangements we managed to swipe. We’re doing a short service with our two witnesses and exchanging vows. Father Quinn promised a full mass when we get home to Texas.

  We sway the rules to fit our agenda.

  In a beautiful peach gown, Rowan Tully stands on the other side of Father Quinn. In his dark gray suit, Deacon Cruz brings my gorgeous bride to the altar, and I cry.

  It isn’t what we planned, but the best things in life usually aren’t—falling in love with a beautiful girl, the promise of a baby, and hope for more.

  Sometimes, the good is cursed with the bad.

  The damage to The Dollhouse was significant because The Brethren let loose and took down the encroachers. I haven’t shown her the pictures. There were nine fatalities, including three security guards. It will never be mentioned in public because Dom Gennaro shuts shit down fast.

  If we cannot halt Cinco within six months, I do not know if we will be able to return to Texas, and I can’t bear to tell Iris that on her wedding day. She has big plans of having Baby Raniero in Sugargrove.

  Deacon hands my girl to me. She smiles, and I kiss his cheeks as tears free flow from all five of us. I’ve never seen Q cry.

  There is a first time for everything.

  …including marrying the girl of my dreams…

  …even if she was my arranged bride.

  I feel Luca smiling.

  Quinn says a few brief words, which I honestly pay zero attention to because I am too busy staring at those radiant sapphires beneath the veil.

  “Lucas and Iris, have you come here to marry without coercion, freely and wholeheartedly?”

  “I have,” she says.

  “Yes.”

  “And are you prepared, as you follow the path of marriage, to love and honor each other as long as you both shall live?”

  “I will,” she whispers.

  “Yes.”

  “And are you prepared to welcome children and raise them under the laws of the church?”

  “Yes.”

  “Absolutely,” I state.

  “Since you intend to enter into the covenant of Holy Matrimony, join your right hands, and declare your consent before God and his Church.”

  “I, Lucas Salvatore Raniero, take you, Iris Amarie Nakamura, to be my wife,” I declare, crying tears of joy. “I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love, cherish, worship, and honor you all the days of my life.”

  Glistening drops fall on her cheeks as I stare at those coral lips I long to kiss.

  �
��I, Iris Amarie Nakamura, take you Lucas Salvatore Raniero, to be my husband,” she whispers, clutching my hand. “I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love, cherish, obey, and honor you all the days of my life.”

  I am caught in her entire web as he blesses the simple vows. “Father…”

  “Yes, Salvatore?”

  Pulling her diamond collar out of my pocket, I place it in his hands with the rings. “You’re asking a lot of me, son.”

  “And you’ve taken a lot out of me.”

  “Fair enough,” he says as Iris sniffles.

  “May the Lord bless these rings, which you will give to each other as a sign of your love and fidelity and Iris’ collar for her continued subservience on her knees.”

  “Amen!” We giggle as he blesses them with holy water.

  “Sal, I give you this ring as a sign of my eternal love for you,” she says, sliding the platinum band on my finger. “I love you, Sir.”

  That one word has never sounded so fucking good.

  “Iris, I give you this ring as a sign of my eternal love for you,” I whisper, slipping the engagement ring and wedding band onto her finger. “And receive this collar as a sign of my eternal protection as Master to your submissive.”

  “You went off the rails there, Sal,” Q scolds.

  “In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, I claim you mine. I am so in love with you, my Dandelion.” Her eyes lower as I fasten the collar on her neck.

  “Thank you,” she whispers. “For everything.”

  “May you find peace and unconditional love with the light of God surrounding your abundantly dark lives. I pray for you.”

  I blink. “You went off the rails there, Q.”

  He smirks. “You may now kiss your bride.”

  I lift the veil and lay one helluva Raniero-tongue-lashing on my blushing bride as Deacon and Rowan clap. “I am proud to present, Mr. and Mrs. Salvatore Raniero.”

  I bite my lip with a cocky smirk and sweep her off her feet and spin her around. “I swear I am tossing you over my shoulder next time!”

  She giggles as Deacon talks to Quinn. I set Iris on her feet, and she whispers, “What are they doing?”

  “I have no idea,” I mumble as she clenches onto my arm. “This is… different.”