This was also another problem. My father saying she was here when she wasn’t.
“I need to be alone for a while. I’ll walk home. Just let me get my bag first.” I said, ignoring him.
His tired, haunted eyes looked at me for a long moment before he nodded and turned to walk away. Setting my bag on the ground, he walked around his truck and got in. Stormy left as well, her boyfriend driving a newer model Mercedes, which was definitely something that they couldn’t afford just a few short months ago.
His eyes stayed connected with mine until they exited the cemetery parking lot and pulled out on Hollister. My gut clenched just thinking about that man. Why couldn’t it have been Winter’s sister that died. Why did it have to be my Winter?
Then I admonished myself. I couldn’t keep thinking like that. What the hell was I thinking?
Walking to my bag, I pulled out a bottle of Jack Daniels and took a seat next to Winter’s headstone. Leaning my back against it, I started drinking. The burn only lasted for the first five sips. After the sixth, I wasn’t feeling much of anything anymore.
My poor dream catcher. I left her alone, and unprotected. What had I been thinking? Fuck, I might as well have chopped her head off myself. Oh, God. What she must have gone through; I just prayed that her death was quick. The fact that she might have suffered burned me.
Vowing to myself then and there, I told myself that I would find who did this to her. And when I did, I would make them pay. I would make him wish he was dead. Wish that he never laid eyes on Winter. One day. One goddamn, glorious day, I would do it. Make it right.
It could have been hours or days when I felt myself being lifted off the ground. “Jesus. He smells like a brewery.”
“Wonder if that bottle was full when he started.” Adam said.
“You fucking know it was full.” Tai said.
“I’m surprised he’s not dead.”
“There’s still time.”
“Very funny.” Adam deadpanned.
“Kill me.” I told them.
Their sparring barbs stopped when they heard what I said.
“Was that what you were trying to do?” Tai finally asked.
“What does it matter?”
“What matters is that Winter wouldn’t want you to do it. What matters are the people you still have here that love you. She would want you to get up off your ass and stop sulking like a little bitch.” Adam all but yelled.
Shame filled me, but it didn’t stop the feelings of not wanting to be here. What the fuck was the point? But then a memory of myself and Winter watching Romeo and Juliet popped into my head.
She’d said that she would never do that. Because it takes more strength to live than it does to die; I was going to be someone she could be proud of. Someone that she could look down on and claim.
In the meantime, I would see her in my dreams until the day I could be with her again.
***
Moaning woke me up the next morning, pulling me out of my dream faster than anything else could.
Winter. Alive. Breathing. Whole.
Propping myself up on my elbow, I let my eyes adjust and found Winter standing beside the bed with a pained expression. Standing up, I went to her side. “What are you doing?” I yelled.
“I have to pee, ass wipe.”
Grabbing her around the waist, I took her into the bathroom, and carefully set her back on her feet in front of the toilet. She wouldn’t meet my eyes, and struggled to pull her panties down without bending her leg. Seeing the problem, I carefully removed her panties, stretching them as wide as they could go to avoid the bandage on her leg.
Seeing that they were beyond repair due to the wound she’d sustained, I tossed them in the trashcan beside the toilet, then helped her sit down. She grimaced, and then gave me a pointed look that very clearly told me to get the fuck out.
Grinning at her, I turned my back on her and started the shower. I wasn’t leaving her and she could just get over it.
An unused roll of toilet paper hit me in the back of the head and I turned my head giving her a pointed look. Once my thoughts were conveyed, I turned back to the shower and started stripping out of my clothes.
“Need to wash the smell of her off you?” She snapped.
Freezing with my shirt halfway up, I stared at her twisted features. “I’ve never, nor will I ever, cheated on you.”
“Well you could have fooled me last night. Here I was, worrying about whether I was bothering you, and you prove it to me without me even asking. If you want me to leave, all you have to do is say so. You didn’t have to go out with her behind my back.”
Knowing that I should have said this a long time ago, I finally told her what we did with the Freebirds. “Do you remember what Catori’s favorite song was?”
She looked confused in the direction I was taking the subject in, but answered anyway. “Freebird. Why?”
Turning the shower off, I turned to her and helped her stand. She pulled my shirt down as far over her ass as she could, but didn’t struggle as I took her to the computer.
“Go ahead. See what you can find on that song in my files. Tell me what you see.” I demanded.
She was beyond confused, but her nimble fingers worked over the keyboard like lightning. It wasn’t but three minutes later that she gasped. “What the hell are y’all doing? Good hiding by the way. Would have been impenetrable if I didn’t know you so well.”
I smiled at her praise, but told her what the files were about. “We started Freebirds after I got out of the army. Sam put up the capital, but the idea was all me. Later on, an anonymous donor helped us fund the program. I wanted there to be someone that a woman could call if she had no one else. If she couldn’t break free. I wanted to help them fly.”
Tears filled her eyes as she finally understood. “She would be so proud of you. So that was Teal?”
“Yes.” I said simply.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You had so much going on that I didn’t want to add to it. I didn’t want you to worry either. What we do isn’t very legal. I knew you would want to help, and I didn’t want you to bring any attention, whatsoever, to yourself. We still don’t know who the man is that attacked you, and I didn’t want to take any chances.”
“What about last night? Why not last night?”
“Stupidity.” I finally acknowledged.
Holding up her hand to me, I took it and helped her to her feet. She wrapped her arms around me and leaned into my chest. “Don’t do that to me anymore. Don’t shelter me. I’ve experienced a lot of things in my life. I don’t need you to keep things from me, too. It won’t help.”
“I won’t.”
“Promise?”
“Pinky.” I said holding my pinky finger in the air.
Laughing, she took her pinky and curled it around mine. “One of these days, Jackopa, your charm won’t get you out of the hole you dig.”
“Hopefully not any time soon.”
Chapter 13
Tupperware? More like Tupperwhere. As in: Where the fuck is the fucking lid?
-E-card
Winter
Please. Please. Please.
I repeated continually in my head. I prayed that he would just fucking do it already.
“I told you to stop. You’re going to be fucking damaged and then I won’t get anything for you.” Peter said.
Peter, the best man that I could ask for my sister. Not. How did she not see this in him? The horridness. The evilness that leaked from his pores.
That just made me pull harder. The asshole didn’t deserve anything for me. I felt filthy. I’d made a vow to Jack, and now I was breaking it by letting this man touch me. It didn’t matter that he was doing it against my will; it was the fact that I wasn’t able to stop it.
What made things worse was seeing my sister high in the corner, off and lost in her own little world.
When she started to come down, Peter would just give her more. This
had been going on for three days now, or at least I thought it was three days. It was somewhat hard to tell in this room with no windows. I was just basing it on the number of times they brought me food.
They didn’t want me to be malnourished, because the buyer they had in mind for me wanted a curvy woman.
A hard, open hand slap landed on my right cheek and I gasped. Feeling blood well once again in my mouth, I let it gather before spitting in Peter’s face. He jerked his face back in surprise before reeling back and throwing a punch at my side.
“Oh, bitch. You’re gonna pay. We’ll find another bitch to replace you. I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.”
Peter said just as he smiled and dealt the punishment of my life.
***
I woke in the middle of the night with a start.
My fingers were rubbing furiously over the long scar on the inside of my left wrist.
Bile burned up my throat and poured out my nose as I threw up all over the bed and myself. Jack was on his feet in the next instant, turning the light on to allow me to see. Getting up carefully, I ran to the bathroom with my hand covering my mouth, and a churning stomach.
Jack lifted my hair off my neck and tied it with a Scrunchie that I’d left on the side of the vanity. Then he left the room, leaving me to my dark thoughts and memories. Jesus Christ. That dream couldn’t be real, could it?
The more I thought about it, the worse my stomach got until I was heaving all over again. This went on for over twenty minutes before Jack finally bent down beside me and rubbed my back. By that point, it was all just dry heaves, but that didn’t stop me from trying to throw up my stomach lining.
Turning on the shower with my stomach still revolting, I washed until my skin was pink. Surveying my body, I started to think about the dream, and where each and every scar came from. I’d originally thought it was from being hit by a car after I’d been dumped, but these weren’t just scars anymore. I knew the story behind them now; how each and every bone was broken. Why my face was a shattered mess.
The bathroom door opened, and I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to avoid the conversation for as long as possible. However, Jack didn’t have the patience, and he asked the dreaded question. “What was the dream about?”
“How do you know it was a dream?” I asked as I cranked the water up higher.
“You were yelling out about cutting someone’s dick off with nail clippers, and wishing that your dream catcher was there to shove that whiskey bottle up his ass.” He said dryly.
I remembered that part, too. I still wasn’t going to tell him about it right now though. I didn’t want him to freak out. Especially since I was still missing some of the details. Mainly, I knew what happened up until the point he’d inserted himself between my thighs. I didn’t know what happened after that, and I wouldn’t say a word about it until I knew the rest. I wouldn’t do that to him. Wouldn’t force him to think about what might have happened.
“I don’t remember. All I remember is a bad dream. Then I woke up puking on myself.”
I grabbed my toothbrush and started brushing furiously. I hated throwing up.
He looked at me as if he knew I was lying, but I wasn’t budging on this. My fingers found the length of my scar again, and Jack’s eyes dropped to study the movement. His jaw tensed, but he didn’t ask; I didn’t tell. I wasn’t ready to tell yet. May never be.
“Did you call Allen?” He asked instead of pursuing the topic.
I grimaced. It’d been two weeks since CC had stabbed me in the leg. The men, Elliott and James in particular, were calling the woman who stabbed me a ‘Crazy Cunt.’ Instead of continuing to use that word, all the women had started using CC, because cunt just didn’t sound good coming out of anybody’s mouth, especially a woman’s.
“Yeah. I’m starting tomorrow. I’ll need to borrow your truck though.” I said as I hopped out of the shower and reached for a towel.
My back was to Jack, but I turned my head and watched him watch me. He followed each stroke of the towel as it dried the water droplets on my body. Heat flared in his eyes, and I bent over to dry my legs and feet. Bending over, I gave him a direct line to the goods, and his control snapped.
Taking two giant steps forward, he hooked an arm around my waist and hefted me up in his arms. I thought he was going to take a shortcut and just go for it on the vanity, but he showed his iron control and took me to the bedroom instead.
Tossing me, I landed on the bed with a muttered “oomph.”
I was happy to notice that the sheets had been changed out with my favorite soft ones. Otherwise, that would have been a big ewww. Puke is gross.
He followed me down and dove head first into my slick heat. Each hand traveled up from where he was holding my legs open, at the knees; all the way up until he held each of my lower lips apart with his thumbs. It gave him easier access to my core.
Stiffening his tongue, he used it to fuck me. In and out, over and over. By the time he was lifting his head, I was a whimpering mess. I wanted his rock hard cock inside me now. Then I wanted him to fuck my so hard the fitted sheet came off the mattress.
“Fuck me. Hard.” I demanded with a growl.
His eyes lit and he grabbed ahold of my hips, flipping me over so my face was buried in the mattress. “Ass in the air.”
I obeyed, and got to my knees and elbows, wriggling my ass at him. Another growl from him had me practically panting and begging him to fill me. “Please.”
The bed dipped behind me, and it wasn’t long until the coarse hairs of his legs rubbed against mine, as he straddled my legs. His cock poked me as he got into position behind me, and I gritted my teeth, trying my hardest not to grind against him.
I squeezed my eyes shut as he ran his finger from my perineum down to my clit, and gave it a flick. Need shot through my body and I was done. Seeing I had to take things into my own hands if I wanted him to stop going slow, I went down from my elbows to my shoulders, face flat against the mattress. Reaching my hand between my legs, I found his thigh and traveled north until I encountered his balls.
Gently cupping them in my hand, I gave them a light squeeze. When I still didn’t get the response I wanted, I gave a rougher squeeze, and started to pull gently forward. Which meant that if he didn’t want balls to be pulled, he had to come closer.
He came closer.
When the head of his cock made contact with my wetness, he seemed to lose whatever control he’d been holding back with.
His knuckles grazed mine as he grasped his cock, lined it up with my entrance and then slammed inside. It was such a hard thrust that my knees left the bed for a few precious moments before they fell back to the mattress when he pulled back.
Letting go of his balls, I dropped my hand to my own body and felt where he entered me. My opening was stretched to the limit with his thick length, and I marveled at the way our bodies fit together so perfectly.
His next thrust didn’t lift me off the mattress, but it did nearly knock the breath out of me, and shoot me from almost there, to there in that one single plunge. My eyelids slammed shut and I bit the comforter in hopes that I would stifle the scream that poured out of me. Wouldn’t be good to wake Tai up this early, seeing as it was only two in the morning.
Jack’s rhythmic pounding turned sporadic and desperate as he searched for a release of his own. Grunting and groaning, he let out a guttural “Fuck!” and dropped.
My knees went out beneath me, pinning my hand underneath my hips, still feeling the connection of our bodies. Unintentionally, I started rubbing, liking the tingles that shot through my still throbbing body as the heel of my hand came in contact with my clit.
I could feel Jack’s cock surge back to life inside of me as he felt what I was doing, but just as he got back up to his elbows and gave that first long delicious slide out of my body, his cell phone rang from the night stand.
He ignored it.
Lifting my left leg and wrapping it around his hip, he surg
ed impossibly deeper.
“Fuck.” He drawled out as he moved in and out.
His entry was slicker this time, due to both of our releases. It felt hotter this way. More naughty. More erotic.
Our lovemaking was just that, making love. This wasn’t sex, or fucking. This was coming together, being one, in its truest form.
By the time we both found our releases, we were exhausted. Pulling out slowly, I grimaced at the wetness between my thighs. The thought was fleeting though, because I was just plain exhausted. After a twenty-four hour shift, throwing my guts up for thirty minutes, and then the last hour of vigorous sex at nearly two in the morning, I was just plain done.
I was in the in between state of awake and asleep when the vibrating of Jack’s phone started again for the fifteenth time. I buried my face into the clean comforter, vaguely remembering Jack ask me what I’d done with the spares while I was puking.
The bed shifted behind me, and Jack’s gravelly voice answered with a rough grunt of “Hello.”
Jack’s body tensed behind me, and I knew he was going to go. Something was wrong, but I just didn’t have the strength to care. “I’ll come up there and take a look.”
Jack moved from the bed and then pulled what felt like a t-shirt over my head before covering me back up with the covers. I murmured a sleepy “thanks” into my pillow.
Then I was asleep.
***
I felt the covers shift behind me, but not the jostle of Jack getting back in bed.
Cracking my eyes open, I glanced at the clock on the nightstand, but didn’t move anything but my lids. Seeing that it was three after four in the morning, I was drifting back to sleep when a hand found its way into my hair. Instead of being gentle, the hand took a firm grip and yanked.
I woke to a hundred percent alertness. Every trace of sleep was knocked out of my system so brutally that I was hyper aware of my surroundings. That’s how I found myself with my arm up behind Jack’s pillow palming the .40 caliber Glock that he kept there at all times.
I contemplated my options. I knew I was going to shoot him, but with it being so dark, I couldn’t exactly see where he was. I knew it was a man by the sheer bulk of his body. He was pinning me to the bed with his massive chest over mine. Then I decided that it didn’t matter if I could see him, only that I could feel him.
Last Day of My Life Page 16
