by Jaycee Clark
He stopped beside her bed, setting her on her feet. He brushed her hair away from her face, then turned and pulled her to the bed. Slowly he undid her braid, running his fingers through her hair.
Her sigh moaned out. “That feels so good.”
Gavin smiled. Thought about how to phrase his question. “Taylor?”
“Hmmm?” Her head leaned back into his fingers.
“I don’t have any protection.”
Her eyes flew open to look at him. He saw the truth finally sink home, settle and shift into place. Her shoulders lifted on a shrug even as she smiled and her dimples deepened. “I don’t either.”
They stared at each other in the darkened room. Streetlights streaked through her blinds, slashing across her bed, the both of them.
“I love you,” he told her again.
“And I love you.”
What the hell. “Wanna get married? Try for some babies?”
Several seconds passed then she finally blinked.
“What?”
His stomach muscles tightened. Gavin had no idea where the thought burst from, but it was there and he wanted it. He wanted her so bad, not just to make love to tonight, but for every night of their lives. She was his.
“I know it’s sudden. But I’ve always known what I want. I want to marry you. I want to come home to you and Ryan, to hear about your day and his newest piece of music or some bizarre factoid he wants to share. I want to go to sleep with you in my arms after making love to you and wake up in the mornings to see you hurrying to the bathroom and complaining about gifts I get you. And if the Good Lord sees to it, I want you and only you to be the mother of our children, by blood or love.”
Gavin held his breath. He’d never been surer of anything in his life. Never wanted anything as badly and never so terrified that he wouldn’t get it.
Her head shook back and forth as her mouth opened then closed before opening again.
“You don’t want to marry me.” Though her voice told him she didn’t believe him, he caught her smile.
“You don’t believe me?” he asked.
“I have no idea.”
Gavin chuckled. At least it wasn’t a “no.” Turning so that she was under him, he leaned down and kissed her.
In no time, their clothing lay tossed around her room. When skin met skin, breaths caught and held. Passions rose to new heights as emotions flowed freely. Hands and mouths loved and cherished as moans and whispers filled the room. Their climax left him gasping for breath.
The woman was going to kill him.
“Was that some of your persuasive strategy?” she whispered in his ear.
He growled a response in the back of his throat, not moving from his current position lest he stop breathing altogether.
Finally, he raised his head and looked down at her.
“You never answered me.” Though he smiled at her, he hoped she saw past his lighthearted humor.
“I didn’t, did I?” Her brows rose high. “I don’t know, Gavin.”
He released his breath slowly. She wasn’t ready. Understandable. He’d rushed it. He should have waited. He should have . . .
“I think . . .,” she said, grazing her fingers down his face, her voice lowering, “I need to be persuaded.” Her words pierced through him.
“Really?” he asked her.
“I think so, yes.” She nodded, smiling wickedly. “To get me in a better frame of mind.”
Minx. He would torture her slowly. Leaning down, he kissed her mouth, barely touching her at all. Shifting he filled her again. He’d get an answer out of her.
“Got your mind set now?” he asked her on a kiss.
“I’m not a good wife,” she whispered.
Gavin paused and cupped her face. “Nope, not in the right frame of mind yet.” Aggravation coursed through him. “I see you’re lumping me with that ass again. Gonna have to fix that, Taylor.”
Their lovemaking was long, deliberate in its unhurried leisure. Just as she would near the peak, he’d back off, change rhythms, simply stop. It went on for hours. He would make her beg before he had his answer. He touched her everywhere, branding her, claiming all of her for all of him. He loved her every way he could think of and then some.
He pulled out of her, grinning at her moan, even as she reached for him. He grabbed some pillows and pushed them under her.
“What?”
“Shhh.”
Reaching down, he hooked her knees over his arms, spreading her wide as he braced his weight on his hands. She was completely open to him. Gavin surged back into her with one strong thrust.
She bowed up and he leaned down, pumping into her, taking a breast into his mouth.
“Please, Gavin, please.”
He thrust shallow then deep, almost left her, then pushed back into her surrounding heat.
Licking her lips, he smiled against her mouth. “Will you marry me?”
“Please.”
Gavin retreated from her, pulling completely out.
Her legs locked, vising around his arms. She was utterly exposed to him. He used one finger to graze from her pubic hair all the way down her cleft. She shuddered. Gavin flicked her clitoris, back and forth, pushing and pulling, circling it in hard small circles. Lifting her hips to him, she opened her eyes. Her arms came up and her hands clasped his face.
“Mine,” she said clearly.
He thrust back into her holding her gaze captive, even as she shuddered and moaned.
“Marry me,” he whispered against her lips.
“Yes, God yes, Gavin, I’ll marry you.”
“Mine,” he answered before he took them both spinning towards the heavens.
Chapter 14
One month later
The transport bus zoomed down the road. Somehow, her name had wound up on the transfer roster. Texas prisons were full. Wasn’t it a shame? And though, by any stretch of the imagination, she shouldn’t have been on this bus, she was.
Nina looked up and caught Rod’s look in the rearview mirror. He landed the job of driving the bus. It was only a matter of time.
She caught his barely perceptible nod.
“Shut the hell up, Dodders,” an inmate said.
“You shut the hell up, bitch,” Dodders answered back.
The guard stood. “Ladies, both of you shut the hell up.”
A bridge was coming up. Long way down.
Rod jerked the wheel and the bus spun, a long slow snake sliding over the asphalt. They hit the guardrail, busting through. For one minute, it looked like they would stay on the bridge, but thank God, gravity kicked in. The bus tipped to one side.
Curses and yells filled the air. Nina braced.
The big tin can rolled down a steep embankment, crunching and grinding all in its way.
Glass shattered, metal groaned.
Finally, they came to a stop.
The sound of water filled the silence that thundered in her ears. Water?
She saw then that water was rising from the back of the bus. She craned her neck up and saw Rod, blood trickling from his forehead, opening the cage door between the driver and the rest of the occupants. The door didn’t want to give.
“Damn it.” He leaned back and kicked it, once, twice, and it finally bent open enough for him to get in.
“Rod, I’m pinned,” someone whispered.
Nina followed the sound of the voice. The guard, she was pinned halfway under one crushed seat.
Rod licked his lips, hesitated.
“Hey, baby,” Nina purred.
Rod shook his head and made his way to her. As he unlocked her restraints, more yells and curses filled the air. Nina only smiled at him.
“Time to rock and roll,” she said.
• • •
Nina stuck her head out the window.
“Freeeeeee. I’m fucking freeeeeee.”
“Get your ass in here before someone sees you!” Rod barked, jerking the wheel as he leaned over to pull her in.
Heavy metal screamed through the speakers as the car slid over the black asphalt of Highway 84.
“You’re so damn paranoid,” she told him, popping her gum and settling in the seat of his old Mustang. Rod was nervous as hell, but he claimed to love her, so she played that card.
Headlights met and passed them in a whirring blur. Yellow stripes ran endlessly ahead, reflectors winking at them in the night like a line of landing strips.
“Coleman is just ahead, then it won’t be long till Brownwood,” he told her.
“Good.” Nina leaned back, content to dive her hand against the wind through the open window.
Small things like this one took for granted.
She still couldn’t believe it had actually worked. The last two days were a high in and of themselves without any need for chems. She and Rod had it all planned out.
And it had worked beautifully. Of course they had had to kill the guard. Nina figured she did the bitch a favor, probably couldn’t have walked again anyway, right?
They’d left the rest shackled and got the hell out of there. Rod had had a friend waiting up the road for them. Rick was the bastard’s name. He helped them out for some cash and with the agreement they would deal for him. Since Rod already did this to the inmates, and would no longer have a job after his little “love affair” with her, they readily agreed. Plus, it gave them a bit of extra cash. So into Rick’s car they went, where Nina and Rod changed clothes, then he dropped them off in the next town, where Rod had stashed a car.
Easy as that. Bam. Bam. Bam. One, two, freaking three.
Nina just knew they’d get caught. But, no. Thank whatever god watched over inmates. That and Rod’s ingenuity, or Rick’s, who-the-hell-ever’s.
Nina reached over and lit a cigarette. The thin white paper crinkled before disintegrating as the tobacco lit. The end glowed orange in the night. Smoke rings wafted in the car before being sucked out the window.
Yeah, it had been easy.
Looking over she studied Rod’s profile in the green-tinged dash lights. His hair didn’t really have a color. Unlike hers—thanks to Clairol, she’d gone jet black yesterday in Dallas. Clairol and a pair of scissors. Short and stylish, Rod had told her.
She ran a hand through the shortened tresses, not but a couple of inches off her bare scalp. At least it wasn’t buzzed like Rod’s.
He really wasn’t that bad-looking—in a choirboy sort of way. He was a little overweight, not much, but enough one could tell he wasn’t exactly a health nut. But then again he was stronger than most, too, with his six-foot frame and extra weight.
And why in the fuck did she give a shit what he looked like? Just a means to an end. A means to an end.
On a deep drag, she closed her eyes. God, she wanted a hit. Just one. Knock the edge off this downer.
But Rod was adamant about selling the shit and getting the money back to Rick. Whatever, she had her own contacts. Which was why they were currently heading to Brownwood instead of to Austin to find Ryan and the Shepards. There was a crack house there she needed to stop at and get some personal stuff. Maybe a bit more on the side. They did need the cash. Plus, she knew that for a service she could get her hands on a gun. Something light. Maybe a SIG nine. Or a Glock. Probably depended on what Cal had on hand, and what he’d want her to do, and what Rod would go for.
That could be a problem. Rod didn’t like to share. But it was just a lay. If she got a gun out of it and some jelly beans or rocks—blue powder would be iced, but probably too costly, and she didn’t have the time to literally fuck around—then what was the damn harm?
Plus, she could find out where Johnny was. Then she would decide once and for all if she wanted to ruin the bastard for ditching her in the pen or if she’d use him. If she used him, then she’d have to dump Rod, and that was dangerous. Rod knew too much.
But there was no use worrying about any of it until she had some answers.
Her first priority was a gun, and not Rod’s. He didn’t have to know she had one either. After all, it wasn’t as if he knew these people. They were hers, so if she needed to go talk to one of them for a few minutes then he’d have to go with it.
Crack houses weren’t the safest places.
But they got her what she needed, in more ways than one.
Her plans were all rolling into play.
Air blew through the interior of the car, washing out the sound of electric guitars.
Yeah, it was all coming together. One way or another.
• • •
Journal Entry, August 12
Taylor’s already up. I don’t know what to do. Who to tell. Though I did tell Tori some of it all. And she probably thinks I’m nuts.
I “saw” Nina the other day at school. Well, not at school, but in my mind, like I do sometimes. She was in this wreck. That doesn’t make any sense, does it? But then I’ve already written all of this over and over. I just don’t know if it’s real or not. I hope it’s not. I mean what would she be doing in a bus, in a wreck?
But last night I saw her in a car. I was getting ready to go to sleep. The house was all quiet and the adults were still all out. I couldn’t stand to stay in that room. Not that it isn’t a nice room. Mrs. K. told me it was Gavin’s when he was a boy like me. I don’t think Gavin was ever a boy like me. How could he be?
I just wanted Taylor, so I sat on the steps and waited for her and Gavin.
I’m so happy they’re getting married. I still can’t believe Gavin asked me if it would be okay for him to marry my mom. He even wants to adopt me. I’ll be a Kinncaid and everything. Though I don’t think the Kinncaids ever get scared. But I was last night. So maybe I won’t make a good Kinncaid.
I was scared Mr. or Mrs. K—though they want me to think about calling them Grams and Pops, don’t know about that yet—would come along. I didn’t want to have to explain what I was doing there. They’re both really nice people, but I get nervous around Mister . . . Pops.
Hmm . . . that’s not as weird as I thought it would be. Maybe that’s what I’ll do, call people things I want to in this journal even if I can’t when I’m talking to them or about them.
Pops, Grams, Mom—Dad? I wonder if Gavin will want me to call him Dad. I’ve never had a dad before, or a grams or pops. Writing it’s not so hard. Though it makes me feel funny, a tickle inside my tummy like when I have to play a piece of music for someone.
Okay, if I’m writing what I want to call them, then . . . Pops makes me nervous. Not because he’s bad or anything, but he sees so much. His eyes remind me of a story I read about a wizard who could just look at a person and know what was going on. Pops’s eyes are like that. So, I hoped he wouldn’t find me sitting on the steps last night while I waited on . . . MOM and DAD. MOM. MOM. MOM. MOM.
Taylor is MY MOM. Gavin is going to be my DAD.
See, there’s that funny feeling in my tummy again.
But it’s a good feeling, not like it was last night after what I “saw” with Nina. With Nina it’s like a burning in my gut. That I-don’t-want-to-know kinda feeling. Because if I do know, I know it will be bad. Very bad.
Like the things I’m remembering about that night in Austin when she hurt me. I don’t want to remember them so I hide behind the walls in my mind. It’s a game I played all the time when I lived with Nina. When things got bad, I just imagined myself in my castle, all guarded up against her. Nothing could get past the stone walls because they were magic, and wouldn’t let anything bad get in. So when I start to think about that night in Austin, I just go to the center of my castle where nothing can get me. It’s safe there.
I tried to get there last night, but I wanted Taylor more. Mom. I wanted my mom more. But then when she got here, I just couldn’t talk to her.
I don’t know how to tell her about the things I “see,” the things I know. What if she thinks I’m crazy and sends me to Dr. Petropolis? What if Dr. Petropolis wants to send me to one of those loony bin places?
&nbs
p; It could happen. If they thought I was crazy. Nina told me all the time that was where people like me went, so I don’t really believe it, but it scares me too.
Tori thinks I need to tell Tay—MOM. That I need to tell my mom about what I “see.” I had to tell Tori when she asked me how I knew Taylor was crying the other day before we ever got there. I was afraid someone else would ask, but no one did. Mr. K—POPS kept looking at me, but he never asked.
Tori did. And I had to tell her. She thinks it’s cool. If she saw the things I did, she would know it’s not cool. I don’t WANT TO KNOW THESE THINGS. She swore she wouldn’t tell anyone.
Half the time my visions or whatever they’re called aren’t right. So what good is it? I mean, Nina and bus and water and a wreck? Give me a break. But when they are right, it scares me. Why can’t I see anything useful? Did I know when Nina got to take me for an hour in Texas that she’d run off with me? No. I was scared she would, but no one “showed” me ahead of time. So what good is this gift? More like a fluke or a curse.
But now I’ve got to tell someone else. An adult, Tori told me. She swore not to say anything, but after I told her I was worried Nina was out of prison she got all bossy. Tori can be really bossy. I have to tell Mom or Gavin—Dad? Before we leave. If not, she’s going to tell her dad or her uncle Gavin. She says an adult will know who to call to see if Nina is still where she’s supposed to be.
Of course, Miss Bossy wanted to know why Nina was in prison to begin with, but I didn’t answer her. For a girl she is really smart. And she’s right, and she knows it. Mom would know who to call to find out if Nina is where she’s supposed to be.
Maybe after I write this all down, I’ll go find her and tell her. Course she’s probably with Gavin. They’re always together. But that’s what’s supposed to happen—at least I think it is.
I don’t know about the whole wedding thing. But Mrs. K., GRAMS and Pops are married and they’re happy and they’re old. So I guess it works for people. Plus Aiden and Jesslyn are happy. I think Gavin and Taylor will be too. DAD AND MOM. MOM AND DAD. I’ve got to get used to that. I WANT to call them that. I WANT a mom and a dad. I want to be NORMAL.
