OVERCAST (B723 Book 1)

by Hazel Grace

“Always remember that,” she mutters over my lips. “Because I still have my knife, husband. And I remember how to use it.”

  “That sounds kinda kinky.”

  “Could be,” she replies. “But I need to keep you alive.” I press a kiss to her cheek then work my way down to the column to her neck.

  “That would be ideal,” I mutter against her heated skin. “I’d like to celebrate at least our one year anniversary.”

  “It’s not the only reason why,” she conveys, lacing her fingers into my hair. I lick the saltiness of her dancing her ass off with Emmy and wait for her to continue on with whatever she wants. “I think I’m pregnant.”

  My head practically spins around like one of those haunted-ass dolls. Did she just fucking say—

  “What?” I wrench my face from one of my many favorite spots of her body and study her face.

  It’s then that I remember she never had a red solo cup in her hand tonight, just everyone else.

  Stormi blinks at me, her face still flush from the heat outside and my working her into a state of aching for me to shove myself deep inside her. When she doesn’t respond, I replay her words in my head.

  I barely drank tonight.

  Shit, I hardly ate because I was too busy eye-fucking my wife and planning out our future.

  “Say that...one more time,” I hedge, feeling the unease pronounced off every syllable.

  “Might,” she immediately comes back with. “I think. I’m not—”

  “We need a stick thing,” I quickly voice. “To see if you are. We need to plan out—”

  “Marty,” she says softly. “I want your stick thing right now. It’s pressed up so nicely against—”

  “We might be having a baby. Holy fuck.”

  “Are you upset?” I roll off her, lying on my back to let the words she just spoke stop bouncing everywhere.

  I need them to sink in.

  I need to protect her and the baby.

  I need to go to the store and buy a crib and a wheel thing that plays music and spins around.

  Stormi moves, sliding off the bed, and my eyes follow her before I recant, “I’m not upset.”

  She hums, not fully bought on the idea. I’m not upset, I’m fucking scared shitless. I just became a husband, and I don’t even know if I can do that right yet. Being a father is a whole other ballgame. It makes me recall how my dad was. How kind and involved he was in our lives.

  I can do that.

  I’d love the shit out of our child.

  I can work and be the best father alive. I’d give it anything it wanted. I can provide a life for both Stormi and our baby. I just have to—

  Weight makes the bed dip down, and Stormi straddles me, completely fucking naked as she grasps my cock and positions it over her wetness.

  “I’ve had some time to ponder on it,” she says. “So while you’re thinking—” She slides torturously slow down my length, snapping my eyes closed. “—I’m going to come.”

  Fuck.

  My hands grip her waist as she begins to bounce, her tits following her movements, and I watch this beautiful woman that I’ve claimed as mine, ride my dick like she owns it.

  Yeah, we’re going to share that control tonight.

  “God,” she breathes, impaling herself fully and deep, biting down on that lower lip of hers for the second time.

  “There you go again with that God shit,” I chide half-ass. “It’s me or him, baby. I don’t do the sharing thing.”

  Picking up her pace, her tightness vices around me, the build-up in my balls already warning me that I either have her slow down or round one is officially going to turn me into a minute-man.

  “Shut up,” she finally argues. “And either fuck me like you said you were going to or let me show you how—” I flip her to her side, covering her with my weight and settling myself in between her legs.

  We don’t speak—don’t need to.

  Everything I’m feeling vibes through the air, and there is no hiding it. Stormi and I connect, we don’t need to express our feelings through words.

  Sinking inside, she wraps her calves around my ass, pinning me in place. I can’t help but marvel her for the few seconds I have before I lose myself entirely in her body.

  Blue—it’s my favorite color. It plays perfectly off her skin. Her eyes inflict me to feel, deep down, and expose all of me. I’m Marty again, raw and complete, coming full circle for the first time in my life. Stormi is the glue and missing article that brought me here.

  The life I guess I was always supposed to have.

  My bad habits for once brought me peace, Stormi, and now possibly a family of my own.

  “Marry me,” I vouch, placing a kiss to her lips.

  I feel her smile against me. “I already did.”

  “Doesn’t feel real yet, let’s do it again until it sticks.” Wrapping her arms around my neck, her tongue slips between my lips, urging me to give us what we both want. What still resembles a dream, and I’m scared that I’m going to wake up from it.

  “It’s a hundred percent factual,” she mutters. “And I love you. I’m not going anywhere. You’re mine. And I’ll fight for it forever.”

  “Remember that you said that, sweetheart. Forever.” She envelopes my tongue as it slips out just to return back to ours meeting again.

  Again.

  There will always be that word. Because I’ll never let her go and she’ll always be here to stay.

  Bunker house included.

  “When I say I love you, I mean it,” I tell her. “And I’ll love this baby if you’re pregnant because they’re you and me.”

  “I know you will,” she replies. “But Mama wants to be thoroughly fucked by Daddy and—” Those new names, fuck, I don’t know what the hell it does, but it sends my body into freight train mode.

  My body hurls selfishly into hers, waiting for her to come so we can keep doing this. I need her to stay here forever with me because now that she’s here, there is no other life I want.

  “Just like that,” she urges, her fingertips digging into my shoulder blades. “And come inside me.”

  “You’re going to fucking kill me if you keep talking like that,” I ground out.

  “You said your love was forever,” she states. “And since I’m the boss half the time, you’re not allowed to leave. You’re just going to have to deal with it.”

  “Oh, I’m going to deal with it. The way that we are is the reason I love us. Love you. And because of it, I’ll be okay. We’ll get that happy ending we both deserve. And I’ll do anything to make sure you get it, sweetheart.”

  With that word forever again.

  My heart thuds—once, twice, double time, back to one.

  Leaned up against the wall, I stare at the antler chandelier that hangs on top of the ceiling of my cabin. I never spent too much time looking at it, my eyes finding something more soft and femine to gaze upon as of late, but it’s dumb as fuck. Why the hell Reagan thought I’d want that shit is beyond me.

  I don’t hunt animals.

  Maybe it’s a joke that I’m three years late on or some shit.

  It’s not so much a secret as we don’t talk about it. Reagan knows what I’m doing when I’m not home and it’s not me being in some tree like some asshole waiting for the prey to walk by.

  “Waiting to use the bathroom or something?” Mills’s voice hits the side of my head like a headache that I’m not wanting to have right now.

  I’m on edge already.

  My body won’t stop fidgeting against this wall and I can’t do anything about it.

  “Why in the fuck are you here?” I shoot back. “Play time is over.”

  “Emmy wanted to hang around Huck for a few days.” I crane my neck in his direction as he lines parallel with me against the gray paint.

  “What’s your excuse?”

  He gives a noncommittal shrug. “Got nothing else better to do. And I like the kid.”

  “You’re annoyingly too l
oveable. Go fuck off somewhere.”

  “I am,” he replies. “Here.”

  I roll my eyes and cross my arms, tightening them around me so I can just attempt to relax.

  I’m so far from my damn element I’m starting to believe that I fucked up everything.

  Stormi is married to me, she took my name and adopted some of my life. I’m not one of those guys that envisioned past a week or a day let alone years in the not sought out future.

  “So, before she comes out,” Mills conveys, lowering his voice so that his big mouth doesn’t echo off my tall ceilings. “I just wanted to tell you to get the hell out of your head.”

  I scoff. “What makes you think that?”

  Um, hello?

  “Because it’s all you’ve been doing since you met her. From the first moment you tortured that girl you made a subconscious decision that you weren’t going to kill her. Something about her embedded into you and, trust me, I don’t think it took much. She’s extremely special.”

  She is, I’m fully aware, except I’m the bastard that can spin us around and upside down before an hour is up.

  “You’re going to be a good dad,” Mills voices. “I just pray to God it’s not a girl or she’s fucked already.”

  I can’t help the broken chuckle that escapes my lips because he’s not wrong. My unconventional ways would try to come out to play and I can’t make every single one of my daughter’s boyfriends bleed and cry.

  Mills slaps me on the shoulder then squeezes. “You’re a douchebag but not to her...and you won’t be if she walks out of there with two solid lines on that test.”

  My jaw locks because I’m scared of all the possibilities. I’m terrified she’s not going to want me around our child because what I do is fucked up and I have zero remorse for it. That she’ll be afraid that I’ll turn on our family like a rabid dog foaming at the mouth.

  “I want the kid,” I deadpan. “I want…”

  Everything.

  Every single good and bad moment with Stormi.

  “I know,” Mills finishes for me. “Keep me updated.” On his own accord, he actually leaves, taking the steps two at a time and leaving me to my own devices.

  Which are dangerous and sharp.

  I can puncture a hole right now through each of my hopes and think that Stormi is going to hate me the moment she walks out that bathroom door. I can’t see what she’s doing, don’t know what she’s thinking because she wanted to pee on a stick on her own.

  I respected it.

  Now I want to kick the door in because how long does this shit take?

  Making the horrible decision to glance at the white door, I contemplate doing it. What is she going to do glare at me?

  Or maybe you’ll just knock her out with it, dumbass, ever hear of just knocking?

  My nostrils flare and I relocate back to the antlers.

  Again, they’re fucking dumb.

  If this was a cute little prank that my sister thought would be hilarious I feel more of an idiot for it taking so long for it to sink in.

  Ripping out my cell to ask her just that, the door creaks open, prompting me to pocket it back in my jeans and pivot to my wife standing with that white stick in her hand.

  My hands curl into fists because I don’t know what else to do with them. I’m on defense, I’m lost in this situation so I’m waiting for a ball to drop.

  “What’s wrong?” Stormi’s face twists and I immediately soften my face.

  “Nothing.” I step towards her, a piece of plastic determining how our lives are either going to change or remain the same. “You alright?”

  She nods, studying my features for any sign of the real shit creeping through my brain.

  I don’t want her worrying about me. I’m not the one that might be carrying around a baby and the risks. I’m not the one who married a crazy asshole who hasn’t been normal since the day his family got blown up. I’m a man with scars that run deep and they’re not pretty. They bring up memories and shit I don’t want to be.

  “Marty?”

  “Mhm?”

  “You’re making me nervous.” I close the rest of the distance between us, pulling her into my arms and leaning in to kiss her lips.

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m just...anxious.”

  Her blues appear apprehensive. “That’s a new feeling, huh?”

  “As of late—” I press my forehead to hers. “—yeah.”

  “Marty…don’t be scared. I’m with you always.”

  “I know.”

  “And now we’re a family of three...because we’re pregnant.” My focus locks on hers and I notice the glint of a smile gracing her face.

  She’s happy about the news. Which means she doesn’t regret me...yet.

  “And you’re worried still,” she continues on before I shake my head, squeezing her tighter to me. “I love you, Marty. Nothing or no one will ever change that.”

  “What if it’s me,” I mutter. “What if you can’t stand me being me anymore. You married me knowing what I do but now...we’re—fuck, baby, you’re pregnant.”

  “With our child. The man I chose to be with because I love everything about him. His broodiness and sexy smile.” My lips decide to act on her compliment and lift. “Things that make me want you to do very dirty things to me.”

  I groan. “Not right now, let me fucking look at you.”

  “Naked?” She perks a teasing brow. “Is that a new trick?”

  “Will you let me spend this moment studying my pregnant wife?” She smiles, rolling her eyes as I gape at her. “Damn...I love you, sweetheart. I’m terrified but...promise me you won’t give up on me. I’m going to try and be—”

  “Forever, remember?” She wraps an arm around my waist. “Are you going to kiss me again or just stare at me all night?”

  “Stop rushing me,” I lightly scold. “I’ll never get this moment again.”

  “What moment? We’ll have more kids”

  “But there’s only one you. The solitary person who gave me all this happiness and...now a family. The woman who broke down my walls and sucked me in and I fell deeply in love with. The sweet girl who is going to give me more than I could’ve ever dreamed of. You, Stormi Shelton, are the reason I’ll be the best version of myself. And I’ll never take you for granted—ever.”

  “Will we still be able to use the bunker?”

  My brows narrow. “The bunker?”

  She shrugs and scooches closer to me. “We’ll need somewhere to sneak away when the kids are driving us nuts. It’s where you first kissed me.”

  “I did.” My palms trail down to her ass. “And I’ll kiss and follow you wherever you wanna go, sweetheart.”

  Our lips touch and I spread hers with my tongue, tasting my wife for the hundredth time since she decided to marry me.

  It’s her and I, everything I’ll ever want and need.

  A fucked up kid who grew up to be a broken man and an even bigger fuck up when it came to the woman in my arms. But she loves me, I love her, and that my friends is where Stormi and I will thrive.

  The monster and his sweetheart taking this world and making it theirs.

  Together.

  For the last time, I walk through the doorless cage of what’s been my last piece of business that’ll finally bring me peace.

  The final thing I need to do to feel completely and mindlessly content with my new life and those in it.

  Clenching my black duffle bag, I stride in purposely, ready to finish him so that I can ultimately come full circle.

  One with Stormi and our new baby.

  One with Reagan and my new niece or nephew.

  One where there won’t be any strays of bad to finish up what’s already been started.

  The room expands to its full size, empty, filthy, and with a leg-less Hollis straining to stand from his metal chains.

  I can hear his erratic breathing from yards away. His double chin tucked into his naked chest as he allows the restraint
s to hold the weight that he hasn’t lost yet.

  I stopped feeding the fucker. Not about to spend another penny on the piece of shit who touched my wife and set up a plan to kill my sister. His time here is done—on this Earth, in our lives, from my fucking thoughts.

  I have a baby on the way. A wife to love and protect from any evil being or threat that attempts to overcast our future.

  I’ll burn them to the ground.

  I’ll chop them up into little pieces and feed the fucking fish as I bounce my baby on my knee and kiss my wife.

  Playtime is over.

  Hollis lost the moment he gambled and picked the wrong side. If anyone believed that I would quickly wipe him out, they obviously haven’t been reading between the lines very well.

  I’m a petty ass fuckhead that doesn’t do quick.

  Not with torture.

  Not with sex.

  Not with the way my mind has been turning and melding a plan of how I’d end this fucker’s next breath.

  A burly man steps out from behind said waste of space with a dark beard and beer-belly gut. He’s almost the same height as Hollis as he steps around him, adjusting his leather cut, and zips up his tattered jeans.

  Striding in my direction, I stop and drop my bag, reaching for my back pocket that holds my Glock, a bag of weed and five hundred bucks.

  I was feeling really generous.

  “I take it you’re the man that’s going to pay me?” He pulls down the red handkerchief that was covering his mouth and nose and stops within a safe distance from me.

  This is a business arrangement. We don’t know each other, and we’re cut from similar cloth with a bullseye on the back of our heads.

  First rule is to maintain a close eye on the other.

  The second is don’t stay too long.

  Extending my arm with the weed and the stack of twenties, I gesture for him to take it and shut the fuck up.

  “Thanks,” he replies, immediately shoving it into the front pocket of his vest. “Dude smells like shit. I’d keep a good few feet away from him if I were you.”

  “I’m assuming it’s done then?”

  The asshole releases a cocky smirk. “It is. Struggled a lot at first, thanks for cutting the leg off. It was easy to take control of him once he tired. Dude was tight as hell, and I blew my whole load in—” I hold up a hand to silence him.