Deception : Secret Baby Romance, Second Chance

by C. A. Harms

  It is a dick move, really, but it is also what the girls are here for. They know it, and they thrive on it. Each stroke of her tongue, followed by the feeling of me hitting the back of her throat, pushes me closer to the end. Keeping a firm grip on her hair, ensuring she has no opportunity to say even a word, I continue to thrust my hips upward.

  Blair’s eyes are all I can see. Though I know if it were her here with me, I wouldn’t be acting as I am now.

  My thighs tighten, my stomach tenses, and I bury my cock in this girl’s mouth as the need to come hits me hard. With my chin tilted upward, my fist gripping her hair tight, “Blair…” falls from my lips in a whisper. Even through the pleasure of my release, I feel the ache of her absence hit me so fucking hard it leaves me feeling sickened by my choices.

  The very second the reality of the situation hits me I feel dirty and disgusted with myself. Releasing my hold on the girl, I turn onto my side and run my hand over my face. When she reaches out to touch my hip and makes a pleased sound, I push her away.

  “Get out,” I bark, hoping she doesn’t push for more. I need her gone; I need the last five minutes to be erased from my mind. Hell, I need it all gone.

  I stand in line at the liquor store, playing the part I am directed to play. With a bottle of whiskey in one hand and a case of beer under the opposite arm, I stare straight ahead, showing no reaction to the man talking in a low tone behind me.

  “Tonight’s the night,” Detective Farris says as he holds alcohol in his own hands, also waiting in the long line. We can’t take the risk of talking on the phone or me going into the station. Instead, we are nothing more than two men seeking out tonight's refreshments, or so it seems.

  “We need you to go in as usual, just a party as normal. We’ve got the place wired, thanks to you, and we’ll arrive when we feel it’s our best chance to attack.”

  I’ve been waiting for this for weeks. Six weeks and three days to be exact.

  “It ends tonight, Jake.”

  I nod as I step forward and place my items on the counter. I’ve grown fond of the men I’ve been working with over the past weeks; they are pretty badass, I can’t deny that. Even though they ride on the right side of the law, they aren’t afraid to get dirty if the situation calls for it. Tonight I know I’ll see them in true action and the adrenaline that courses through me makes my hands shake. It’s time for revenge, time to bring my family down, and I’m about to get a front row seat to the destruction.

  I pass money to the clerk, retrieve my change, and gather my items, all while showing no sign of the conversation that has just taken place. I don’t even look back over my shoulder when I exit the liquor store. I can’t take that chance. I walk toward the SUV waiting at the curb and climb inside, looking over at Gabe. I have a vision of my fist connecting with his face as blood splatters me, and I smile at him. He, of course, takes it as some form of brotherly love and holds out his hand in some type of fist bump invite. I make sure to hit it with my own, a little harder than necessary, when I accept his gesture.

  “Tonight we get fucked up and party,” he says while placing the vehicle in drive. “Tomorrow we crack heads and work on finding the sorry fuck that needs to bleed.” I turn away from him to hide my sneer and stare at the front of the liquor store I just exited. Just then the front door comes open and out walks Farris with his shades on. He offers me a simple nod just as we pull away from the curb.

  I’m ready. In fact, I’m more than ready.

  Within a few hours, the warehouse is swarming with men and women. I sit back, pretending to be a part of the party, nodding when I’m spoken to, laughing even though I don’t find any humor in their snide remarks or recaps of the horrid stories they all have to share.

  My father sits on the opposite side of the room, a young girl at his side and a brunette on his lap. My mother knows of his extracurricular activities with these women, but she has always turned a blind eye. They’re both sick fucks and I wouldn’t put it past her that, in the past, she has taken part. My family is fucking warped, of that there is no doubt.

  It’s just before midnight when I hear a ruckus taking place near the entryway of the warehouse. Suddenly the doors burst open and in rushes a swarm of agents, all carrying guns. Chaos is the only way to describe the scene as everyone scatters, trying to search for the nearest escape. But there isn’t any, because the FBI and S.W.A.T. teams are coming from every angle.

  I look toward my father, noticing he hasn’t moved. Instead, he still sits on the couch, looking straight at me. Had I been a weaker man, I possibly would’ve feared the hate in his eyes. He knows, I’m sure of that now.

  A shot rings out and I look to my left just in time to see Gabe ducking down a hallway that leads to the garage, the same garage that holds not one but six of the large vehicles my father keeps on hand. The idea of him getting away is something I can’t allow. After all, he is the one I want to see pay the most.

  I search out the room and the minute I find Farris, I can see he registers my intentions. I ignore the shake of his head as he attempts to silently warn me. My legs are moving before I have the chance to think twice and I run down the long hallway after Gabe.

  Reaching around to the back of my pants I pull out the gun I safely tucked there hours ago. My hands shake as I move it around to the front of me, but not from fear. This was one of the very few times I was thankful to be tied to the family I was tied to. I learned long ago, even before realizing what my family did, how to handle a firearm.

  As I enter the garage my brother spins around to face me, and instantly looks relieved to see its only me.

  “Come on.” He waves me on as he moves around the side of the black Escalade. I use his trust in me to my advantage and close the distance between us, still firmly gripping my gun in my hands.

  Just as I step up behind him, I press the barrel of the gun to the back of his head and he freezes. I can visibly see his shoulders rise and fall as he takes one deep breath before slowly turning around to face me. I’m careful not to allow him the advantage to gain control of the situation. With the gun now pressed to the center of his forehead, his stare is locked with my own.

  “Did you remove the safety, brother?” That cocky smug look of his returns as he watches me closely.

  “Why don’t you make a move and find out?” I dare him to test me. All I need is one shift and I’ll claim self-defense. I want him to pay for what he’s done and prison, in my eyes, isn’t a harsh enough punishment for my brother.

  He chuckles, but I can sense the nervousness in the sound and I find that to be satisfying. I want his fear, I crave it.

  “I told you if you touched her I would kill you.” My nostrils flare when he smiles wider and has the nerve to lick his lips as if he is reliving the memory of the night he attacked Blair.

  “Yet here I am, still breathing.” He lifts his hands up and holds them out to his sides as if to say Bring it on. “You always have been weak, Cyrus.”

  At the mention of my given name, I hold the gun a little tighter against his head.

  “I think you have that wrong, brother, you’re the weak one. Always willing to do everything he told you to whenever he demanded it. You’ve been his bitch your entire life, needing the approval of your daddy.” His smile falls from his lips and is suddenly replaced with a matching look of anger. “I never needed his encouragement. I’ve been a man on my own and I think you know that. You just couldn’t stand that I was strong enough to stand without him. I didn’t need him holding me up.”

  “Fuck you.” Spittle flies from Gabe’s mouth in a moment of pure anger. “You don’t know anything.”

  “I know that you crossed a fucking line when you went after Blair, a line that can never be mended.” My hands shake, and I want nothing more than to pull the trigger. I want to see his lifeless body crumble to the floor and lie in a pool of his own blood. Blood I’m responsible for shedding.

  “Lower the gun, Jake.”

  I don’t
have to turn around to know it is Detective Farris who’s entered the room. I watch as Gabe looks past me.

  “He’s already taken enough from you, they all have. Don’t give any of them the power to take anything more.”

  “Pull the trigger, brother,” Gabe dares me. “You’re a Gunther, it doesn’t matter how hard you try to deny it. You’re dirty.” He pushes his head harder against the barrel of the gun. “Pull the fucking trigger, you coward.”

  The urge to do just that hits me hard. But then in that last few seconds of clarity, I see her eyes staring up at me with nothing but hope. Hope that I am the man I portrayed myself to be, hope that I want her and need her as much as she does me.

  I pause, but only for a second before I twist the gun and crack the butt of it against my brother’s skull. I watch with satisfaction as Gabe topples to the floor, a trickle of blood dripping from the contact point and rolling along his temple. It may not be the destruction I want to inflict on him, but it will have to be enough.

  I refused to be the man he tried to convince me I was.

  Part Two

  One Year Later

  Chapter One

  Blair

  I cover my eyes, and wiggle around as I sit in the center of my living room floor. If there was anyone actually watching it might appear I’d lost my mind, but I don’t care. I love these times when it’s just me and Isabelle, enjoying one another. It’s the best.

  My sweet little girl was born five months and two days ago. That by far was the greatest night of my life. Though it took many hours, and a whole lot of excruciating pain, to get her here, I can honestly say it was worth every single second. She was, is, and always will be my greatest accomplishment. Her sweet little face brings me both joy and sadness, because even though I try to ignore her resemblance to her father, it is impossible. From the very second they placed her against my chest and I looked at her puffy little cheeks and lips I knew there was no denying who had helped create her. She was a replica of her daddy and with each day that passes, she grows to look like him even more.

  Whitney sees it, I know. I could read it on her face as she stood by my side in the hospital room. She reached out, placed her hand on my shoulder, and together we cried, a mixture of love and anguish.

  I know deep down, even though I hate him for the lies he told, there will always be a special place in my heart for Jake. Because he gave me my daughter and that is a gift I can never forget. Isabelle is my world. She’s the reason I get up every single morning and push myself to be even better than I was the day before. She gives me motivation, she gives me purpose, she’s my angel.

  “Boo,” I say, just as I pull my hands away from my eyes and lean in toward her. Immediately she starts to kick her chubby little legs and throw her hands out before her. A loud happy squeal falls from her lips that makes me laugh too.

  “She could break glass with that squeal.” Whitney rounds the couch and flops down on the cushion, doing her best not to spill her coffee in the process. She smiles almost proudly as she stares down at Isabelle, and I can see the love she holds for my daughter. My little girl isn’t just my new start, she’s Whitney’s too. We are a trio, a team. She shares the duties of taking care of my baby, she babysits happily when I can’t be here, and when we are both called to work, Isabelle is with Aunt Marcy or Granny B, Whitney’s mother. Iz is surrounded by a full, loving family and I take peace in knowing that she has each and every one of them on her side.

  There is a part of me, hidden deep down that I don’t talk about, that wishes more than anything things could’ve been different. Wishes that Jake was the man he pretended to be. I believe that guy could’ve been a great father to our daughter. In the short time we were together, he managed to make me feel that we could’ve been so happy. Then in the blink of an eye that image was destroyed.

  “What time do you work today?” Whitney asks around a yawn just before lifting her coffee cup to her lips. She stayed out late last night with her guy and stumbled in just after five this morning. Serves her right for pulling an all-nighter when she knew she had a long day today.

  “I go in at two.” I try to hide my smile as I lean in to kiss Isabelle’s cheek, making her laugh all over again. “You have a double today, right?”

  “Yes,” she groans out and Isabelle twists her little body, tilting her head up in search of her favorite auntie. “If I didn’t blow half my paycheck just last night I would so call in sick today.”

  “Did you really need a new outfit with matching shoes and purse to go on a date with a guy who couldn’t care less about what you’re wearing?” She probably only wore it for an hour, two at most before it was nothing more than a pile on his bedroom floor.

  “I looked good, don’t even try to deny it.” I wouldn’t. “Speaking of dates, when are you seeing Shawn again?”

  “I never said I was.” I choose to ignore the glare I know she is giving me and focus on Iz instead.

  “It is okay for you to date and meet a good guy, you know?”

  I nod, but keep my focus on my daughter’s little legs as I grab her feet and wiggle them. A wide smile covers her lips and spit bubbles form as drool pools at the corners of her mouth.

  “It doesn’t mean she’s not your first priority.”

  “I know,” I say, feeling my anxiety spike. A man is the last thing I want or need right now. I’m perfectly happy working at the restaurant during the day and spending every night with my little girl. She is the best company. Okay, fine, I am lonely, but not enough to put myself out there again and be forced to trust a man.

  I don’t know if I will ever be ready for that.

  Those days, that night, they all haunt me still. I wake up sometimes feeling as though I’m trapped and can’t escape, my breaths ragged as I look around my room to find I’m safe. Those are the secrets I carry, the times I hide from others because I don’t want anyone to know that I’m still unable to get over that time in my life. Letting a man in, letting my guard down, just doesn’t seem worth it.

  “One day,” I say as I pick Isabelle up then stand. “But for now, all I need to be happy is this little butterball.” I blow raspberries on her cheek, which triggers her squealing once again. “She’s all the happy I need.”

  Truth is, being with a man makes me feel as if I’m somehow taking time away from Isabelle. Time that I can have loving her and cuddling her, because in my opinion my little angel has already lost enough and she doesn’t even know it. Problem is I do, and I feel as if I’ve failed her with my inability to choose the right daddy for her.

  “How is everything?” Mr. Henderson looks up from where he is focusing in front of him and offers me a nod. “Can I get you both a refill?”

  “Thank you,” his wife offers me a gentle smile, “we would appreciate that. Thank you.”

  I love my older customers. They are so much better than the younger college crowd. So appreciative and kind, grateful for every small gesture.

  I pick up their cups and walk toward the station that is set up just to the left of the bar. Quickly I fill their glasses and move back toward my area just as Shawn and a couple of his friends sit in the table just beyond the Hendersons.

  My heart instantly races but not from excitement. Shawn wants that second date. He was very persistent when he walked me to my door after he took me to dinner only a couple of weeks ago. He also lingered a little too long giving me that how about a kiss kind of look. Let me just clear things up right now—there was no kiss.

  This is the first time I’ve seen him since that night. I’ve managed to avoid him and his phone calls. Now there is no way out and when he looks up, his eyes meet my own across the small space. A smile covers his lips, making me feel like an asshole for being so dismissive.

  Shawn is a sweet guy, but he doesn’t do a thing for me. I like the bad boys, which I know is exactly where I’ve gone wrong in the past. But there is something so alluring about a confident guy with attitude and tattoos to match. It seems to always
come back to bite me in the ass, but it is and has always been an unavoidable pull.

  I take in a deep breath and slowly release it as I start to walk across the dining room in his direction. He watches me like an eager little boy and I fight against the urge to roll my eyes. If anything, the man needs to be told that wriggling around in his seat like a two-year-old does nothing for a woman, or for this woman at least.

  “Hello, Blair.” He practically shouts the greeting before I even reach his table and I cringe from the way it echoes. A few other guests turn their heads in our direction and instantly my face feels heated. “How have you been?”

  “Good,” I offer with a forced smile. “How about you?”

  “Still waiting for that second date.”

  Cue the nervous energy. My hands start to tremble as I do my best to hide them. I’ve never really been good about getting myself out of difficult situations. I freeze and in the end, I wind up agreeing to shit I’d normally avoid just to eliminate the uncomfortable atmosphere.

  “I’ve been busy with work and Isabelle.”

  “How about we make it an outing we can bring her on too?” The walls immediately go up. “I told you before, I like kids.”

  In the distance I hear the bell chime indicating an order is up and I use it as my out. “I gotta get that.” I don’t wait for him to reply before I scurry off toward the kitchen, thankful for the interruption.

  After a few minutes of calming myself I find Scarlett and agree to cover her next split shift if she will take Shawn’s table. I also give her the table of executives who tip better than any other guest in history at Spencer’s. There goes the new bedroom furniture I was trying to save up for.

  Chapter Two