by Soraya Naomi
I try to roll over, but Henry moves up my body and kisses my cheek. “Sleep, baby.”
As he strokes my hip in soothing circles, I’m too sluggish to speak.
I’m so happy he’s staying, is my final thought before I drift off with his scent cloaking me.
***
My eyelids flutter open. Relaxed and satisfied, I turn to my side but discover my bed is empty. And when I glance around, I realize that I’m completely alone.
Henry snuck out?! Emotions riot within me, mostly disappointment and utter sadness. Yet when moisture pools in my eyes, I blink the tears back, trying to remain strong.
Why does he always have to pull away, breaking my heart every single time in the process?
CHAPTER 16
Henry
God damn...
I still taste Mary on my lips. As I lie here simply stroking her side and that ass I can’t get enough of while she’s dozing off, I know I should leave her bed, but my limbs don’t seem to work. Surprisingly, her moans didn’t get on my nerves like other women’s usually do. They just spurred me on even more while her uncontrolled whimpers made me rock hard. And now that I’ve had a sampling, my hunger for Mary has multiplied.
Fuck!
It’s certainly not her fault that my resolve weakens when I’m with her. That instead of wanting to sate my own lust, I’m only concerned with satisfying hers. That I’m captivated by her every move. By how she curls her toes and wrinkles her nose.
On their own accord, my fingers wind around a curl and I bring it to my nose. A sense of calm I haven’t experienced in years descends upon me. I’m so used to being alone after a liaison that I forgot what this feels like. It’s nice yet disturbing at the same time.
Sitting up quietly, I move to her makeup table, inspecting the abundance of scarves hanging there in vibrant colors that remind me of her. One of them catches my attention because it’s the exact same copper color of her hair. Pushing the others aside, I tug it off and pocket it just as I’m pulled out of my thoughts when I glance out the window and catch a familiar shadow beneath the bright lantern across the street.
Swinging around, I kiss Mary’s forehead, instantly taken aback by my own behavior. Yet I shake it off as I race downstairs and barge through the front entrance, infuriated.
Pinning my glare on Tara, I dodge a car, storming toward her and grabbing her arm, pushing her shoulder into her neck as I lift her slightly. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
She struggles to get free, so I let go, causing her to stumble backward. “You were supposed to call me.”
“I told you two goddamn days ago to give me a couple of days. How fast do you think I work?”
She ignores me and curtly inquires, “Do you live here?”
“Are you stalking me?” I answer her question with a question.
“Yes,” she replies, astonishing me with her admission. “Because I don’t think you’re being honest.”
“Well,” I retort, “if you want your money, you‘ll just have to deal with it.”
Her eyes widen slightly; she didn’t expect that answer. Nevertheless, she continues to probe and mentions the one person who makes me let loose of the reins on my emotions.
“Is this attitude change of yours because of Mary?” she sneers.
Gritting my teeth, I try with all my power not to let her push my buttons.
“No,” I answer with fake calm. “Just stay the fuck away from Mary and me, like I told you, so that I can keep my end of the deal.”
Her brows climb halfway up her forehead. “You and Mary?” With a vengeance, her true persona rises to the surface and a malicious grin curves her mouth. “Oh, Henry, you just made this so much easier for me. I guess Mary doesn’t know I’m your wife, does she?”
“Say her name one more time,” I hiss, betraying that Mary means something to me. “And don’t call yourself my wife. I’d be careful if I were you. I’m not that boy you met seven years ago anymore.”
Gone is my innocence and gullibility. Instead, I’ve become a merciless man, the likes of whom she’s never met. I could get rid of her yet not before getting the one thing I need: a divorce.
When I was eighteen, Tara and I married. And although she cheated on me for two years, when I left her, she refused to sign the papers. In addition, she hacked my files at City Hall and made them inaccessible to me. Back then, I didn’t question her motives and didn’t see a problem with staying married as long as I never saw her. Until she contacted me again and has apparently done extensive investigating into Club 7.
Her throat works as she swallows and says, “Mary is your boss’s sister, and I bet neither Mary, nor your boss, nor anyone else even knows you’re married – why else would you need me to stay away from the club? And I think you like her, my husband. Fuck me over, and I’ll never unlock your files at City Hall.”
My hands are tied. Tara doesn’t realize just how big of a problem she really is to me. Personally, I don’t give a shit about the divorce. However, I’m a member of the Syndicate, and if they ever find out I have ties to a regular civilian that I lied about, then my life is over. This is how our world works. On top of that, I must protect Mary. The fact that Tara has the balls to show up here tells me that she’s in a volatile state of mind.
I hurriedly rethink my position. No matter what, I have to pay Tara off until I get my divorce and can deal with her once and for all. But in the meantime, I need this woman away from Mary’s apartment building. Right fucking now!
“No, they don’t know. And if they found out, they’d fire me,” I lie, playing my part and pretending to be outsmarted by her. “So if you want your money, keep your fucking mouth shut.”
A victorious grin forms on her face.
Grabbing my wallet, I wrench out two hundred-dollar bills and shove them into her hand. “I’ll wire you a thousand tomorrow, and I’ll contact you when I know more, but it’ll take more than two days, Tara.”
“Was that so difficult?” she jibes, and I clench and unclench a fist, refusing to let her bait me again.
“Leave. Now,” I state firmly yet as calmly as possible.
She evaluates me for a second but then sashays away.
I’ve underestimated Tara’s greed, and I grasp that I need to handle this situation faster than I anticipated. I must come up with a plan for Tara because there’s no way I’ll be able to get enough money to pay her off within a few days; I know she wants hundreds of thousands of dollars, and I don’t have that. I have to trick her into thinking she’s gotten her money so that she unlocks my files. And then I can handle her however I see fit.
As much as I’d love to spend more time with Mary tonight, my impromptu meeting with Tara has ruined my mood, so I decide to go home, needing some fucking space to assemble my thoughts.
CHAPTER 17
Mary
On Wednesday night, I’m lounging on my L-shaped sofa, comfortable in my red sweats and black crop top, babysitting Adam until Logan picks him up.
After two days of silence from Henry, I grumble, “Damn him.”
Every time we grow closer, it seems he creates some distance between us. And I don’t know if he’s even aware he’s doing it, but it annoys me that much more since I’ve already been down this road with Keano. In the beginning of our relationship, Keano would disappear and lie about it a lot – because he was also seeing someone else, the girl he cheated on me with. And due to my past with Keano, I keep wondering if I’m enough to hold the attention of a man like Henry. Yet I refuse to chase him.
“What?” Adam mumbles as he stands before the flat screen TV, absorbed in his favorite movie, Cars.
I purse my lips together, knowing I shouldn’t cuss around Adam. “Nothing.”
Luckily, he’s distracted by Cars, and when Adam claps, Strawberry, whose wounds have mostly healed, barks and jumps around his feet. So Adam plops down on the floor, taking her into his lap.
“Not so rough, Adam, or else you might hurt Strawb
erry.”
“Sorry,” he responds, stroking her fur lightly.
Suddenly, my front door creaks open. In alarm, I jump off the couch, stepping forward to check the entryway as I shield Adam from view. Thank goodness, Henry darkens the doorway, freezing momentarily when he notices Adam playing on the floor.
“Henry, I’m watching Cars!” Adam exclaims.
“Hey, little man!” he replies as I tilt my head.
“Why, hello there,” I greet him, surprised because he’s dressed more casually than normal.
My god, he looks like James Dean in his washed-out black jeans and his biker jacket, complemented with a plain white tee, his spade tattoo peeking out from the collar.
“Is this a thing now?” I tease him. “You breaking into my house?”
“Probably...” He smirks, coming closer.
With a mere glance, he can make me feel naked and warm, but I remain in place, raising both brows.
“I wasn’t planning on babysitting though,” he says, staring at the exposed skin of my stomach beneath my short top.
“So why did you come?”
He bends down to whisper, “To finish what we started on Sunday.”
“Then maybe you should’ve called me.” I’m unable to hold back, and he snaps his gaze up to my curious stare. Why did he leave that night?
He utters, “Work came up. Sorry I left without a word.”
Wow, an apology from Henry. That’s a rare occurrence.
Slowly, I grin. “That hurt, didn’t it?”
He shows his teeth, but then Strawberry runs up to us and he commands firmly, “Stay,” right before she sniffs his boot.
Strawberry obeys, watching me, so I snap my fingers and point to her basket next to the sofa before murmuring to Henry, “Since I’m still waiting for payback for brunch, I’ll control my dog.”
“Oh, I forgot about that.” He smirks mischievously.
“Don’t get any ideas.”
“All I have are ideas.” He glances at my breasts. “But I should go; you already have company.” Then he swivels around.
Running past him, I place my palm on his chest. “Oh, no you don’t. You came to me, remember that,” I whisper, and his lips quirk up when I use the words he spoke to me when I always used to go to him. “You can have dinner with us.”
“Us?”
“Yes. We were just going to eat. Henry’s going to join us,” I let Adam know and he cheers.
“Yay! Strawberry’s hungry.”
Henry rubs his mouth to hide a smile and surrenders after Adam comes hopping up to him, so he hoists him up. “What does Strawberry want to eat?”
Adam taps his chin. “Maccie.”
“No,” I pipe in. “We’re not eating McDonalds.”
Henry beams wolfishly. “You’re no fun, Mary.”
And Adam echoes, “You’re no fun, Mary.”
I pinch Adam’s little button nose. “No McDonalds. What else do you want?”
“Sushi,” he answers decisively, making Henry chuckle.
“How does this kid go from Mickey D’s to sushi?”
I shrug as Adam wiggles down Henry’s body to reach for his Cars backpack on the couch, unzipping it and dumping the contents onto the floor. As he rummages around his coloring books and crayons, he mumbles, “I’m going to make you something.”
Not sure if he’s addressing Henry or me, I let him make a mess on the floor.
Henry shucks off his jacket – the lines of his toned chest are noticeable as he moves – and takes his phone from the inside pocket. “I’ll order sushi.”
“What do you want, Adam? Do you also want—” But I don’t get to say soup.
“I want chopsticks,” Adam replies in all seriousness, drawing a circle on a blank piece of paper.
“I know what he likes,” Henry tells me as he holds up his phone in one hand, his thumb swiping over the screen. “I’ve seen what he eats at Logan’s. He just likes playing with the chopsticks, so I’ll get him sushi rolls.”
Henry doesn’t ask me what I want to eat, and before I can say anything, he informs us, “Ordered.”
Because of Adam’s presence, it’s not uncomfortable between us at all. He keeps chattering to Henry, drawing, then watching TV, and he’s so easygoing. So is Henry for that matter.
Going into my open kitchen, I reach into the white wood cabinet for some plates. I have to stand on my tiptoes to get them but accidentally push them backward with my fingertips, grumbling. Unexpectedly, a hand rests on my side as Henry’s familiar front presses against my back.
“I’ll get them.” He reaches up and easily takes three plates, setting them on the kitchen counter.
I wiggle my ass against him, and a low rumble resounds from his throat before I thrust him back with my behind, yet he doesn’t budge. Instead, he gives me a fleeting kiss on the mouth just as the door buzzer sounds and he moves around the corner into the hall.
I bring the plates into the living room and place them on the oak coffee table, along with napkins and utensils. When Henry returns, he drops the bag onto the table and Adam peeks inside.
“You can take out the food,” I say while Henry and I hunch down next to each other on the floor.
Adam snatches the containers out until he finds the chopsticks, and he’s immediately distracted, wielding each of them like a sword.
“Sit down, pumpkin. I’ll plate up for you,” I instruct.
“I want the green ones.” Adam points a stick at one container.
“Yes, here are your cucumber rolls.” Then I see that Henry’s ordered much more vegetarian sushi than fish. Plus a seaweed salad for me, which is my favorite.
Henry leans closer to me, and as if he reads my thoughts, he clarifies, “I know you wanted the salad.”
He remembered that from the one time I mentioned it at Sunday brunch – my heart warms.
Devouring my salad, I observe Adam snickering when Henry throws a soybean in the air and catches it in his mouth.
Of course, Adam tries it too, but Henry leaps forward and catches it. “No! You could choke on it.”
Unfazed, Adam giggles as he jumps on Henry while Henry tickles him.
So this is dinner with boys.
They continue to wrestle, stopping once in a while to eat, and I’m stunned at this side of Henry. He’s usually so commanding in a sometimes-distant manner, as if he constantly censors himself. But not now, with us. Or in this case, with Adam.
After we’ve finished dinner, Henry and I laze back against the sofa, and Adam shunts a drawing into Henry’s hand.
A deep crease crosses Henry’s forehead. “What’s this, Adam? Aliens?”
Adam frowns, looking at him as if he’s stupid, and I can see Henry hiding a smirk at Adam’s adorable expression.
“It’s us,” he explains, leaning against Henry’s shoulder as Henry winds his arm around his middle. His little pointer finger dances over the paper. “This is you, and Mary, and me.”
“Oh, yeah, now I see it,” he concedes, grimacing at me and indicating that we’re truly unrecognizably drawn.
“These are your glasses,” Adam continues.
“Oh...My glasses.”
“Where are they?” Adam asks, touching Henry’s ears.
“I don’t have to wear them all the time. They’re reading glasses. I can see without them.” He reaches behind him to slide his jacket off the sofa and takes them out of the inside pocket. “But they’re right here. Should I put them on?”
Adam nods vigorously and then glances at me.
Henry repeats to me, “With or without glasses?”
“With,” I reply, because they suit him and make him irresistibly attractive. “Without the glasses, you’re not Henry.” Not my Henry. “Just like with Superman. Without the glasses, no one recognizes Clark Kent.”
The corner of his mouth curves up as he puts them on and winks at Adam, who situates himself in his lap, and Henry doesn’t seem to mind his cuddly behavior at all.
/>
“You’re good with kids,” I blurt out, standing up to clear the plates.
“Don’t look so surprised,” he defends, tickling Adam’s neck.
“I thought you didn’t like people and prefer systems to them.”
“I do like petite people,” he replies with obvious innuendo, his stare drawn to me like a magnet as I enter the kitchen.
A hot sensation stirs inside my chest, and he makes it even worse by adding so quietly that I almost don’t catch it, “I love kids. I am his godfather.”
Wait. What?
“You are?” I muse aloud. “I didn’t know that.”
“Logan asked me a while back.”
Henry, Henry, be careful because my heart is powerless against a charming hacker who also adores kids.
This explains why Adam’s so familiar with Henry. He must see him more often than I realized.
At that moment, the doorbell rings, so I say to Adam, “That’s your daddy.”
He hops up and Henry follows him to buzz Logan into the building and then into my apartment, and once Logan gets inside, he scoops Adam up, kissing his chubby cheek.
“Daddy!”
“Hey, little man. Did you have fun with Mary?” He peers at Henry. “And Henry?”
Keenly, Adam bobbles his head. “I ate sushi.”
“Yum. Is your belly full? Are you ready to go home to Mommy?”
“Yeah, I miss Mommy.”
“Okay, get your things.” He sets him down on the floor, and Adam dashes into the living room, stuffing his crayons into his Cars backpack.
Logan looks back and forth between us. “So you two were babysitting him together?”
Henry shrugs as Logan smirks right before we hear Adam yell out, “Damn!”
My eyes widen while Henry chuckles, and Logan sends us a disapproving glance.
Then both Henry and I pipe in, “It wasn’t me.”
Henry’s gaze instantly lands on me, and he arcs a brow. “Really?”
I grin. “Okay, sorry. It was me. I didn’t think he heard it though.”
“Just don’t cuss around him,” Logan mutters. “He repeats everything nowadays.”
