Cherish Her

by Johnston, Andrea

  Watching him, I’m mesmerized by the perfection before me. Grant isn’t just fit, he’s muscular and hard. Every ridge of his abdomen moving as he rips the condom wrapper with his teeth. Sheathing his length, he strokes himself and my mouth goes dry.

  Settling between my legs, he pauses, pushing hair from my face, searching my eyes. “Dakota.” My name has never sounded more beautiful than it does falling from his lips in this moment.

  “Please, Grant.”

  Slowly, he slips inside of me, breath leaving my lungs. He’s so large, so powerful. Not moving right away, he leans down to kiss me. We move together, our bodies knowing the dance like we’ve done this for years.

  My heart races as I reach the peak of my orgasm. Grant follows me, his guttural growl muffled in my neck. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I kiss his shoulder. Pushing up from atop of me, Grant smiles and slowly slides out of me and moves to the bathroom.

  With my eyes closed, I lie here, listening as he runs the sink and flushes the toilet. When the bed dips next to me, I blink my eyes open, catching his gaze as he uses a small towel to clean between my legs.

  Neither of us speak as we settle into bed, the covers pulled over our naked bodies. With my head resting on his chest, Grant holds me tight to him.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Hmm hmm.”

  “Dakota.”

  Lifting up to look at him, I give him a small smile. “I’m really okay. Overwhelmed but good. Tired. That’s probably the most cardio I’ve done in three months.”

  Chuckling, he pulls me to his side.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  I mumble some sort of “yes” through a yawn as I close my eyes.

  “Did you name the girls after characters of a television show?”

  Smiling I say, “If my mother asks, no. I followed her tradition and named them for the states they were conceived. But, between us, Grey’s Anatomy is the best show on television and I hope my girls are as fearless and badass as the characters they were named after.”

  We don’t speak anymore and I allow the beating of his heart to lull me to sleep. The happiest and most content I’ve felt in a long time.

  Chapter 34

  Grant

  There is satisfaction in completing a project. Whether it’s big or small, the ability to stand back and take in the final product is fulfilling. At least that’s what I assume. It feels like this project will never end. Sure, Jameson’s guys have been here doing the heavy lifting and major remodeling, but I wanted to build the bookshelves and entertainment center. Now, I wish I had outsourced this as well.

  Other than this project and a few small projects in the master bathroom the renovations should be completed next week. Some days I can’t believe I’m actually putting down roots in Lexington. A town I’ve only visited a handful of times before calling Dakota about properties two months ago.

  Two months. Doesn’t seem possible that it’s only been two months. My life has been turned upside down in the best of ways. That’s never truer than when I’m curled up next to Dakota in her bed. With her wrapped in my arms, the world calms and everything feels complete. Since our first time together last week, gone are my lonely early mornings and in their place, discovering every part of her body like it’s the first time.

  Although I do feel like a thief in the night, sneaking out of her house before dawn, I understand the need to allow the girls an opportunity to adjust to our relationship before they wake up to me in their mom’s bed. Pulling the plugs from my ears, I lower the volume of the music playing and check the time. Spotting a text notification, I tap it open and smile when I read Dakota’s message.

  Dakota: Next time you sleep over we need to set both of our alarms. That was a little too close for comfort this morning.

  I don’t bother telling her she was the one who distracted me from setting my alarm with her mouth doing very dirty things to my body. Instead, I reply with a shrugging guy emoji and set my phone back on the windowsill. Taking a break, I head into the kitchen to grab one of the bottles of water from the refrigerator. Twisting the cap off, I’ve only taken one drink before I hear a knock at the front door.

  It won’t surprise me in the least if one of the neighbors is stopping by with food. Yesterday two of the women out for a walk stopped by with a basket of muffins. They were dressed like a pair of the Golden Girls on their way to an aerobics class and I was stunned speechless. Regardless of their taste in clothes, the basket of muffins they gave me was beyond comprehension.

  Expecting the same women to be standing on the porch, I’m surprised when it’s not them at all. A man about my age is standing with his hands in his pockets, a huge smile on his face. The fake and screaming “I’m selling something” kind of smile. To add to his stereotypical salesman look, he’s dressed in a short-sleeved light blue plaid shirt tucked into a pair of pressed khaki pants. A pair of brown dress shoes complete his look.

  “Hi, can I help you?” I greet the stranger.

  “Nice place you’ve got here.”

  “Thanks.”

  The man is peering over my shoulder through the house.

  “Moving in or out?” he asks. It’s a simple enough question, but regardless, it sends my hackles up. A zip of awareness hits my gut. The feeling is the same as the night someone was prowling around Dakota’s house.

  “In. Is there something I can help you with?”

  “I’m a realtor and have a client looking for a place like this, and while it’s not my normal practice to stop by without calling first, I thought I’d take the chance and see if the owners would be interested in selling. Sounds like I’m a little late.”

  His words make sense, but he doesn’t offer me his hand, nor does he present a business card. That coupled with his unsolicited inquiry doesn’t sit well with me. I know from talking to Dakota about her business practices, she would never approach a homeowner unsolicited. Perhaps she and Doug are the minority in their industry, but I appreciate their business structure. Regardless, good manners are never a bad thing and this guy obviously doesn’t have them.

  “Sorry but I’m not looking to sell.”

  The man who still hasn’t introduced himself begins to cough, putting his finger up like he needs a moment before continuing our conversation. As far as I’m concerned the topic is closed, but I’m also not rude and something about this guy is off.

  “Would you—” he begins before another coughing fit hits him. “Wow, sorry. Would you mind if I bothered you for a glass of water? I seem to have a bit of a tickle. It’s the seasonal change; allergies are a bitch.”

  I know a lot of people are suffering with the shift in seasons, Arizona one of them. Her little squeaky voice has been replaced with a raspy deep timber that sounds more like she has aged fifty years and been smoking cigarettes most of her life. While he sucks at sales, the guy hasn’t done anything overtly concerning.

  “Sure, come on in. Watch your step, I’m doing a little project before I move in.” Motioning for him to follow me, I make my way to the kitchen and open the refrigerator door. Pulling a bottle of water out, I don’t feel it so much as hear the sound that stuns me. Stumbling aside, my grip on the bottle of water loosening. The plastic hits the floor with a thud at the same time the world goes dark.

  My stomach rolls, feeling like I’m walking on the most unstable dock in an angry ocean. Waves of nausea overwhelm me, but I breathe in through my nose, not willing to succumb to the feeling. Slowly, I pry my eyes open, the bright sunlight blinding as I do. Attempting to shift, my body has no give, stuck in this position. My arms are secured behind my back, my ankles tied together in front of me. Leaning against the wall, I let my head roll to the side. The movement sends a shooting pain through my skull. Blurry vision keeps me from making out what is happening before me. I know this feeling. I have a concussion. Trying to remember what happened, my mind draws a blank until the man I recognize from my front porch squats down in front of me.

  �
�About time. I thought for a minute you were dead. That would be unfortunate and not at all how I planned this. Now, wake up so you can see once and for all your place.”

  I have no idea what this asshole is talking about. He’ll be the one feeling pain as soon as I get past the room spinning and can beat the shit out of him. Closing my eyes, I rest the back of my head on the wall and ask, “Who are you?”

  “I don’t think you’re in a position to be asking questions, do you? Patience, Grant. It is Grant, isn’t it? Captain Grant Ellison, retired United States Army.”

  How the hell does he know that about me? I don’t know this guy. That I’m sure of. Before I can respond, the sound of tires on the gravel driveway outside draw both of our attention. This time, the smile on the man’s face isn’t that of an overbearing salesman. This is one similar to a child on Christmas morning after Santa’s left the number one item on their wish list.

  “She’s here.”

  Who’s here? No. Kicking my feet, I try to loosen the tie on the ankles and try to stand but he pushes me down and lifts a gun to the side of my head.

  “Nuh-uh. No moving around. I’m a nice guy and plan to let you say your goodbye before I use this, but if you try to warn her I’ll be forced to end this now.” His eyes are dark, almost black as he lifts a finger to his lips to silence me before stepping aside, leaving me alone when I hear her voice.

  “Hey, what’s the big emergency?” Dakota calls from the living room as she makes her way into the house toward the kitchen where we are. “Grant? Where are . . . omigod, Grant!”

  She rushes to me, her eyes wide as she falls to the hard tile floor beside me. Her hands move across my face, checking for an injury.

  “Honey get out—”

  “Hello, Dakota.” The stranger interrupts me before I can tell her to run, pulling her attention from me as she turns her head. Abandoning her assessment of me, she rises and gasps.

  “Ron?”

  Who the fuck is Ron?

  “Of course, darling. I’m sorry it’s taken so long for this moment. I know I promised it to you months ago, but I hadn’t expected another man to interfere. Some adjustments needed to be made to my plans for us.”

  “I don’t understand.” Her voice quivers, fear evident.

  “Like I said in my text message on New Year’s Eve, I had a good feeling about the year. I was courting you of course. Did you like the flowers? I remembered your perfume having a hint of rose, so I thought they were perfect.”

  New Year’s? I was with Dakota that night. I didn’t see this fucker at the party.

  “You sent the flowers? Why?”

  The man, Ron is what Dakota called him, clenches his jaw, anger and frustration surrounding him like a cloud. Around us.

  “Are you not listening? I was courting you. Flowers. I planned to surprise you one evening with a date, but this man distracted you. That’s when I knew I had to change my tactics. Step up my game.”

  “How were you going to surprise her with a date?” I ask, pulling the attention off Dakota and to me for a minute. I can see the way her hands are shaking, she’s about to lose her cool, and I need her to stay focused.

  “Dinner, of course,” he spits out, his eyes never leaving Dakota. “I saw you sitting in Mulligan’s wearing that beautiful blue dress. It’s my favorite, by the way. You looked stunning, and I was about to approach you when the captain here joined you. That was very hurtful, darling. I don’t like feeling jealous. The weak are envious. That’s why I had to teach you a lesson. Make you realize your choices have consequences.”

  “You flattened her tire.”

  “A consequence.”

  Dakota sucks in a deep breath as she shivers and hugs herself. I want to comfort her, hold her to me and protect her. Until then, I need to keep this guy talking and hope she realizes her keys are in her hands. More importantly that the pepper spray I gave her is on her key ring. She fought me tooth and nail when I made her place it with her keys. I’m grateful she relented and did as I asked.

  “What else did you do? I don’t recall anything out of the ordinary.” I hope I’m not pushing him too hard that he’ll lose his control. My goal isn’t to push him, only to distract him.

  A maniacal laugh morphs the non-descript man I thought he was at first glance into something purely evil. He looks taller and more menacing and not only because he’s holding a firearm.

  “Nothing for you to worry about. Dakota, did you feel me protecting you? Keeping you and your daughters safe at night? I promised I would do that in my letter.”

  “I . . . I didn’t get a letter.”

  “No? I placed it on your car and saw you discover it. I searched for weeks to find the perfect stationary. The gold reminded me of the way the sun highlights your hair on the brightest days.”

  This guy is off his rocker. Knowing he’s been watching her, putting himself in her life without either of us realizing sickens me.

  “What is it, darling? Are you not wanting Captain Ellison to know of my promises? Don’t worry, we’ll be rid of him soon enough. I’ll happily recite my words for you in private. They were meant only for you as it is.”

  The words no sooner leave his mouth and I watch as my girl realizes what he’s saying. She looks from Ron to me and then down to where my feet are tied together. Sucking in a deep breath, she closes her eyes and slowly exhales. I know this look. She’s centering herself, digging deep inside her for strength.

  When her eyes open again, she looks at me once more and with a slight nod of her head, turns her attention back to Ron. A slow smile appears on her face. Her sales smile.

  “Ron, why didn’t you make yourself known to me? Other than meeting you last year, I hadn’t heard from you until we ran into one another a few months ago.”

  “Dakota, you deserve a grand gesture. I couldn’t be like anyone else. Like this man who was using you and making you look like a common whore as he sneaks out of your home in the middle of the night. It’s shameful, how you’ve allowed him to treat you. We’ll work through it though. I promise. I’ve forgiven you for the indiscretion.”

  “Ron, there’s no need to hurt Grant. He’s done nothing wrong.”

  She takes a step toward the man and my heart pounds, the blood rushing through my ears like a tidal wave. Frustrated that I can’t protect her, I focus on breathing and twisting my wrists in an effort to loosen the ties. There’s nothing I can do but watch as the woman I love steps toward the devil himself. With the hand holding the pepper spray behind her back, I glance down to her fingers and see her ready to use the weapon.

  “Sweet Dakota. You’re such a kind soul. I imagine our daughters will grow up to be just as kind.”

  Stopping abruptly, Dakota’s back goes rigid as she says, “What did you say?”

  “Our daughters, Arizona and Cali. I’ll be the man of the house, their father.”

  “They have a father. He may no longer be living, but he is their father.”

  Before Ron can respond, Dakota rushes him, spraying his eyes. He screams, dropping the gun on the ground as it skips across the tile, attempting to block his face from her assault.

  “Dakota, on the counter,” I shout. She looks to the counter, spotting the stun gun and darting toward him.

  Ron is flailing and doesn’t see her coming as she connects the gun to his neck, and he falls to the ground stunned.

  “Get the gun, baby.”

  Dakota throws the stun gun from her hand and scurries to pick up the discarded gun before kneeling beside me to untie my hands. She manages to get me loose in seconds, just as Ron begins to stand, his eyes swollen shut. The inability to see doesn’t seem to slow him down as he approaches. I grab the gun from Dakota’s hand and aim.

  The sound of gunfire echoes through the empty house as he falls to the ground, moaning in agony. Sobbing, Dakota falls into my side. Holding her close, I kiss her head quickly.

  “Honey, we have to call the police. Hand me your phone and I’ll call whi
le you untie my feet.”

  Nodding, she slips her phone from her pocket and hands it to me.

  “9-1-1. What is your emergency?”

  Chapter 35

  Dakota

  Accepting the tea from my sister, I hold it just below my lips, blowing the warm steam from my face. Exhaustion weighs me down, emotionally and physically. I woke this morning determined to make the best of my day off. I dropped the girls at school and came home to clean the house. To do laundry.

  Laundry.

  “I think there are clothes in the washer. I should restart that.”

  “Sissy, I’ll take care of it,” Minnie says quietly as she adjusts the blanket draped across my shoulders.

  “Where are the girls?” I know everyone is tired of me asking this question, but I need to know. I need reassurance they’re safe. After the police and paramedics arrived at Grant’s house, the adrenaline deflated like a balloon and my thoughts jumped to my girls. He knew their names. What else did he know? Were they safe?

  Every horrifying thought of what may have happened to them ran through my mind. The officers helped by checking with the schools to ensure Arizona and Cali were safe. It was hours of going through the afternoon with authorities. Repeating the story over and over. It’s amazing how long it took to relay an incident that was only ten minutes long.

  Cali toddles my direction to answer my question. I hand Minnie my tea and scoop my sweet girl into my lap.

  “Mama, you sad?” Her little hands come to my cheeks as she searches my eyes.

  “Just tired, baby. What do you have here?”

  “Uncka Owie has kwookies.” A big toothy grin with chocolate all over her teeth spreads across her face. It’s a smile I can’t help but return as I place a kiss to her nose.

  “Go eat that in the kitchen and tell Uncle Owie to get you a napkin.”

  “Kayyyyy,” she singsongs as she rushes out of the room.