Every Minute I Love You (a Tomb of Ashen Tears Book 3)

by Kailee Reese Samuels

  “First of all, I see no water. Therefore, you cannot drown. Second, stop looking at all the bits whirling around in the cyclone. Step away from it, behold what it is, and capture it.”

  With the steady pulse of heartache, I whisper, “But what do I do?”

  “You do whatever the fuck you want to do, Sally. Stop letting everyone else define you. If you want to get on a plane to Fiji, do it. If you want to work the Border cases, do it. If you want to spend the rest of your life loving Cruz, do it. Your only job was to protect Iris. All this other shit is just getting in your way. Ignore it. You cannot stop it. You cannot stop Ashley from beating on Dom. And you cannot stop Dom from taking it. You cannot stop Nicky from being who he is. And you cannot stop my mother from being a Mistress. You cannot control any of it. Control yourself. Everything else will fall into place.”

  “What about Jack?”

  “Jack isn’t just off the tracks. He’s gone up and over the mountain to a place I don’t think he can come back from. And he’s been that way since he took on Mitch Daniels.”

  “… What?” I shout.

  “It’s been right under your nose and I tried to tell you in my notes that I thought there was a connection. Did you get the box at Anna’s in your room? It’s up in the closet. I figured you would find it when you moved out. It’s the most important box in all of it, Pretty Boy.”

  “I never moved out,” I mutter, knowing my room at Scarlet House is the exact same as it was seven years ago. “Anna wanted me to have a place to run.”

  “You have to stop running.” I feel her lift up and brush over my lips. “You’ve got this. I know you don’t think you do, but I chose to marry you even after Jack conceded to marry me.”

  “You what?”

  “I chose you.”

  “And he came after me because of it.”

  “He wasn’t happy. I’d begged him to marry me for years, and then I met you and I fell in love with you, Salvatore. I didn’t want Jack anymore. The rejection hurt him.”

  “Who can I trust?”

  “I always told you to trust no one, but that seems so selfish. In order to have trust, you have to give it. But I would be careful. There are only a few people I would trust. And not all of them are Unholy. You need to find a girl you can pray with. And ideally, she’s brave enough to take you through your masochism. It takes a special girl.”

  “Do you not think it’s Iris?”

  “I cannot tell you what I think.” Her fingers linger through my tears, down my neck, and stop on my heart. I set my hands on hers and my breathing calms.

  I snicker, “You tell me everything else, but you won’t give me this?”

  “I cannot tell you what your heart wants. Follow the beat and see where it leads.”

  “What else?”

  “You look incredible. And I wish I would’ve lasted long enough to stand by your side. You’re a good man at heart, Sal. You aren’t a monster. You aren’t your father. And you aren’t your mother. You are you. Be you. Do you. Don’t lose sight of that. And don’t let anyone tell you differently. Be strong. Hold up. Keep fighting. Don’t quit.”

  “You will always be my Mistress Pixie.”

  “I am a memory, Sal… I am gone and I am not coming back. You need to be careful with that word—gone. Iris was never gone. Iris moved, but she wasn’t gone. Gone is death. Stay away from gone. Run from it like the wind.”

  “You said to stop running.”

  “From who you are, babe. You need to find a new kinky Mistress to balance your sexy mind. Hopefully, with a little luck or proper matchmaking, she likes your rough Dominant on the flip side.”

  With a push to my chest, I fall back on my elbows. My calves are tucked beneath my thighs and I am completely open and vulnerable for the first time in years. Tears spring from the corners of my eyes and roll back to my hair.

  “Breathe, Pretty Boy. The stretch is good for you. Inhale. Exhale. Feel the rhythm. Feel yourself.”

  I wrap my palm around my cock and lightly stroke the length. The pain in the contortion is good and the foggy clouds in my head clear. “I’m not much different from the circus master.”

  “No one is… it’s all triggers, programs, and code.”

  “Am I still as good as I ever was?”

  Grazing the tip of her finger from my throat to my pubic bone, she glances over my body. “Baby, you are so much more and only getting better.”

  My jerks intensify as I bring on waves of ecstasy—the pleasure within the pain. “I need to run.”

  “Yes. You need the physical exertion and exhaustion. You need to deplete and replenish. In many things. And now, you need to come.”

  “Stay with me.”

  “I’ll always be here. I’m never be far away. Come for me, Pretty Boy.”

  I violently erupt, shooting a massive geyser of an orgasm onto my belly and the rug. “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not.”

  Opening my eyes, the flash of light blinds me as I sit up. “I love you.”

  From behind my back, the press of her dainty fingers on my shoulders sends a chill through me as she whispers, “I love you too, Master Nero. Remember whose team you play on.” Her fingers wash over the Iris Amarie. And I buckle over with a purging cry.

  Pain. Pleasure. Purge.

  I pull up because staying down isn’t an option. I cannot crash, not now. With my renewed focus, I wipe the jiz from my hands and body with my Henley and toss on my gray sweatpants. I open the door to see Cat and Kristen.

  “Long business meeting?”

  “Ya,” I calmly reply. “Therapy session.”

  Cat looks like she has been crying. She points to the sketch and sniffles, “This is the guy.”

  Staring at the image like he’s standing in front of me, I snarl. “That’s Mitch Daniels.”

  45

  Yield to the Worms in My Grave

  With Dale Archer not responding to my calls, I decide a trip is in order. I pack a duffel, leave Cat in charge of the house, and take a nonstop flight direct to Austin. I call Swain and ask him to leave my truck in the lot.

  It’s easy to spot the new girl, but I miss my bad bitch.

  Unfortunately, she is retiring in Nebraska at the farmhouse. Jas pulls her out from under the carport and takes her for a spin every week. Maybe I shouldn’t say she has retired, but has opted to rest.

  The truth is driving the Raptor without Iris beside me is hard.

  Little things hurt the most.

  No one other than Swain knows I’m here. I’ve not been out to Dale’s new spread, and I’m excited for one reason—I get to see Mae-Mae. She is three now. And I’ve been a terrible uncle. Terrible because she hasn’t seen me in years. I’ve sent packages for birthdays and holidays, but I rarely hear from Dale anymore. And I never get pictures.

  That is probably all my fault too.

  I whored myself out to him for a fat—MEGA FAT—payout. It almost destroyed Deacon and I. And it is safe to say it ruined Dale and I. Friendship and sex do not mix—ever. You can be lovers or you can be friends, but never both at the same time. We formed cracks – epic fault lines – and drifted apart.

  It’s late in the afternoon, close to dinner time, and I stop to buy a couple pizzas, a twelve-pack, and a brightly colored juice bottle.

  Never arrive empty handed.

  I check the address on my phone again as I pull up outside the spacious ranch house. The gate is open, and at one point, we were family. I don’t think he’ll be popping his rifle to get me off his property. I could be wrong about this.

  I furrow my brow and my mouth drops at the sight of the woman and baby riding the black horse in the pasture. The bright sun is blinding as it starts to descend. “What in the hell?”

  Speeding up the drive, I stop and walk around back where I hear music. “Hoss?”

  On the other side of the house, a metal barn draws my attention. The doors are wide open when the sound of a tool hitting the cement echoes.

/>   “Fuck!” Dale curses as I snicker under my breath. I stride up and prop against the door frame. “Stop standing there like a damn super model and get over here so I can use your hands!”

  Lifting my shades up in my hair, I chew my gum and assess his attempt to rebuild the engine of a vintage Honda Rebel.

  “Why are you working on a Rebel?”

  “Hold this,” he says, letting go of the socket wrench. “Because…” he strains and the bolt gives way. “I wanted one when they came out and I never bought one.”

  “Who’s the girl with mah babee?”

  He chuckles. “That’s not a girl.”

  “Hi, Sal.”

  “Cassidy,” I mutter, stunned. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “Long story, Raniero.”

  Mae-Mae waddles up and points. “Big tuck!”

  “Ya,” I say, picking her up. “You wanna go see my big truck?”

  “Mhmm!”

  Overwhelmed with emotion, I hold the little half-Asian doll close. “She’s beautiful.”

  “She’s a tiny terror,” Dale says, dropping his tools and wiping his hands. “Don’t let her charm you.”

  “Can I…”

  “You don’t have to ask, Kid.” He steps closer and I feel so small. Dale is a massive man—six-four and easily two-twenty—and unmistakable with the ginger hair and beard. He sets his hand on my shoulder in a welcoming gesture. “You bring the truck?”

  “I got a new one,” I mention, carrying the bundle towards my new bitch.

  “Shit!” He booms, following me, as we leave Cas behind.

  Mae steals my Bollés and put them on as I mutter, “Why is Cas here?”

  “She’s trying to get sober, and I’m the sucker who remembers her being Mae’s height.” He shakes his head. “I don’t think it will last.”

  “Did you hear about Amber?”

  “Yeah, I went to see her in the hospital.”

  We tread through the lush backyard to the driveway when I see the woman standing in front of my truck with her hair blowing in the breeze. “You didn’t tell me you brought her home with you.”

  “Where else was she going to go?” Dale lights a smoke as we approach.

  “Mama!” Mae squeals in my arms as Amber turns around. “Tuck!”

  “I know baby!” Amber smiles at me.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper, kissing her on the cheek. “I…”

  She puts her finger to my lips. “There is nothing you can say. Just promise me when you find Ashley Randall you get Romeo away from her and make her pay for what she has done.”

  I lean in close, smelling her hair, and say, “I will personally take care of her for you.”

  “You see the truck, Mae!” Amber feigns her best smile as I take the baby and put her in the driver seat.

  Dale warns, “She’s going to push all of the buttons.”

  “I don’t give a shit,” I reply, grinning at the tot. “Let her play.”

  Wrapping my arms around the girl I once called mine, I lift her up off her feet and hold her close. I cannot deny my history—any of it—with Amber, Dale, or Cas. I loved these people at their best and worst because they loved me, but that doesn’t mean I trust.

  Mae pushes the horn and bounces up and down in my seat. I’ve never had the pangs to have children of my own until I see her. I know I have a daughter—Raine—but I’ve never met her. I want a baby of my own with a woman I love.

  “Pizza!” Mae declares and grabs her juice bottle from the cup holder. “Pizza!”

  “I guess it’s time to eat.”

  After dinner, Cas took Mae for her bath. Though during dinner, Mae politely informed – while sitting in my lap and eating pizza slathered in my bleu cheese – that I had to put her to bed.

  With a grin, Dale snickered, “All the girls want you to put them to bed.”

  “So how long has Cas been here?”

  “A few weeks,” Dale says, taking a swig of his beer. “She claims to not like what Javi is doing, but she doesn’t agree with Pico and Cam either. I don’t think she’ll be here much longer with Amber living here. They don’t exactly get along. You know Juan isn’t doing well.”

  “I know,” I say. “I saw him about a year ago. I drove down to Brownsville.”

  “And you didn’t stop by?”

  I shift my gaze and give a nod. “I’m a bad uncle.”

  “No, you’re busy,” Amber excuses, cleaning up the table. “You want any more pizza?”

  “Not unless you have,” I say, looking at the mess of my bleu cheese container. “Anymore dressing?”

  “I’ve got some in the fridge,” she offers. “You want your normal amount, Sir?” The word slips easily out, and we both stare like deer in the headlights at one another. “Sorry. Sal.”

  “Sir works, darlin,” I whisper, touching her hand. Just because we hooked up in Nebraska didn’t mean we were the same. We ended up fucking because we’re like magnets, but we avoided the circle of filigrees and diamonds in the continuous necklace she still wears. “And please.”

  She disappears into the kitchen. “You know Dom was paying her, don’t you?”

  He fuckin’ what?

  “Excuse me?”

  “She invested all of her money into Red Crow. She’s broke. Our house next to Juliet is for sale. I don’t want it and she can’t afford the upkeep. She’s sold almost everything except for her car, clothes, the necklace, and other jewelry you gave her.”

  “Does she still have the Porsche Boxster Spyder I gave her?”

  “Yep,” he says, yawning and resting his elbows on the table. “It’s in my garage.”

  “What about the books?”

  “She pulled them off about a year ago,” he says, grabbing his pack of smokes. “She quit writing. Come on, let’s go smoke.”

  I grab my beer and follow him out to the deck. The sunset view is gorgeous as I study the construction. “Did you build it?”

  “With my own two hands.”

  “You did good,” I praise. “With many things, Hoss.”

  “Not you.”

  “Even me,” I correct as Amber appears with an ice-cream dish full of bleu cheese, two slices of pizza, and a couple napkins. I give her a kiss on the cheek and sit down. “Thanks, beautiful.”

  “You want another beer?”

  “Yes, and then I want you to come sit your sweet ass on my lap and tell me why you didn’t tell me you were busted.”

  Sitting, Dale grins. “She’s always been one of your greatest weaknesses.”

  “Blame Kaci.”

  “I do,” he laughs. “For many things, including Cassidy’s presence here.”

  “What about her Mom?”

  “Kate doesn’t want a damn thing to do with her. She married Dev last year and they’ve been busy.”

  I repeatedly blink. “Kate…my Kate…got married?”

  “Yeah, small wedding at the courthouse.”

  “Where the fuck have I been?”

  He shrugs. “Doing your thing. Everyone has. You know Ella is sick.”

  “What?”

  “She had a massive heart attack about six months ago,” he informs. “As healthy as she was no one expected it. I’m surprised Charlotte didn’t call you.”

  “Is she ok?”

  “Yeah, they took her for surgery up in Austin. Derek was awesome with Charlotte though, they’re expecting a baby.”

  “Whoa… what is happening…”

  “Life went on without you here, Sal.”

  “I got that,” I say, leaning back. “But no one thought to call me.”

  He shakes his head. “Why would we bother you all the way up in Boston? You’re too far away to run down every time something goes wrong.”

  “Here’s your beer,” Amber happily chirps. I grab her arm and pull her into my lap. Pressing my face to the back of her arm, I close my eyes and inhale just to be reminded of the home I miss like crazy.

  Half an hour later, I lay with the
perfect girl on my shoulder in a bright pink room as I read a story about horses from other countries. “And the Kiso from Japan are considered endangered…”

  Mae points to the picture of the horse by the river as my eyes water. She leans up and asks, “Where are you from?”

  “I’m from someplace called Boston.”

  Her tiny body in pink pajamas crawls up on my chest. She touches her finger to my nose and I nip at her pad. She giggles. “You talk funny!”

  “Ya, I know,” I reply. “They tell me that a lot.”

  She lowers her nose to mine, and we look each other right in the eye. In Mae, I see all of the hopes and dreams I have and I remember why I started this insanity in the first place—to save our children. Only they aren’t just nameless, faceless beings that can be called generic “children” anymore. They have sticky smiles, booms of laughter, unparalleled love, and brilliant names—Mae-Mae, Kade, Raine, Merritt, and Romeo. They are why I started The Unholy, to dismantle the underworld we were all born into. “Will you be here morrow, Sal?”

  “I will,” I say, making a promise. “We’re going to go to the park!”

  “… In Tuck?”

  “Yes, in my truck,” I whisper, unable to hold back the tears. I pat my chest and she lays her head down on me. “Which is why you need to go dream! So, you can drive your uncle babysitter up a tree!”

  “Can we climb a tree?”

  “Yes, we can.”

  “Can we make it to the top?

  ”Yes, we can.”

  “Can we climb a mountain?”

  “Yes, we can.”

  “Can we make it to the top?

  ”Yes, we can.”

  “Can we have tacos?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Without warning, she changes the question, shifting gears faster on me than Cat trying to learn to drive a stick. The gears grind and burn.

  “Can I meet Iris?”

  She doesn’t ask for Emily. She asks for Iris. Because her Daddy and Mama have told her about Iris. And I know why, but it doesn’t make the question any easier to answer.

  “Yes, baby. You can meet Auntie Iris, very soon.”

  A few minutes later, I feel her breathing heavily as Amber peeks in on me. She points to me and to her eyes as she tilts her head with a gaze of love. I give a slight shrug as she wraps her arms over her chest.