“Keeping tabs on me now?” What I really wanna do is throw him a Midol for acting like a woman.
“Hardly. It’s just that you’re usually tied to your computers so you leaving the house two days in a row is cause for speculation. Actually, you’ve been gone a lot lately. What gives?” What is this, twenty motherfucking questions?
“Since when did you grow a pussy?” This should really get a rise out of him.
“I ain’t no pussy, asshole. Just curious.” The dirty look he sends my way would put a lesser man on his knees, but I grew up with the insufferable asshole.
“Curiosity killed the pussy,” I state.
“The cat, asshole. It killed the cat.” Same goddamn thing.
“Same difference as far as I can tell. And, for the record, it’s none of your fucking business what I’m up to.” As the words leave my mouth, I realize I just opened up a can of worms.
“It’s gotta be a woman,” Silas interjects, walking into the kitchen. Jesus Christ, first one, now the other? Nuh-uh, they’re not gonna wear me down.
“How do you figure?” Atticus asks.
“Because not only is he gone more than he’s here lately, but he appears to have groomed himself as well.” What? So a guy can’t trim his beard and shit? I’m not even going to recognize that I also cleaned up my manspace. I’d pull my piece and shoot the two of them, but they’re my brothers and I might need them at some point.
Atticus looks me over and grins. “Yep, it’s a woman.”
“You two are nosy fuckers,” I reply. “What difference is it to you if I trimmed my beard?” I need a refill of coffee, plus a splash of whiskey to deal with these shitheads.
“Fucker, it was as long as those dudes in that whacked show Piper likes to watch,” Atticus states. Exaggeration should be his middle name.
“No it wasn’t,” I point out.
“Okay, one of those guys in ZZ Top, then,” Silas retorts.
“Y’all have lost your fucking minds.” I swear these two are worse than a bunch of old ladies, sitting around the nursing home, gossiping about who’s taking Viagra and shit.
“Who’s lost their minds?” Piper asks, coming into the kitchen.
“Your man and Silas,” I answer. “And for the record, tell him,” I say, pointing at Atticus, “that I always pick up Lucky Charms for you when I hit the store.”
“He does,” she agrees, grabbing the creamer she likes from the fridge. “You seem to forget it whenever you go,” she tells Atticus, plopping down next to him.
“That’s because it’s garbage for your body.” He pretends like he eats nothing but healthy shit, but there’s been plenty of times I’ve found him with a midnight snack of her cereal.
“You happen to like my body, remember? How do you think I got it? Healthy doses of margaritas, Lucky Charms, and pizza.”
“Moderation is key, baby, but four fucking boxes is not moderation in my book!” I roll my eyes, because here we go again. I swear this is a daily debate between the two of them.
“Considering you like it too, well, it’ll last maybe two weeks. Tops.” Aha, she’s on to his ways. I chuckle when he realizes she’s called him out.
“I would never,” his eyes widen in her direction.
“Just last night,” his hand shoots out and covers her mouth. She continues to mumble through his attempt at muffling her.
“Did you just… lick me?” he asks her as he pulls his hand away.
“Whatever it takes, Roughrider. You’re a tough guy, you can handle my spit.”
“Aww, isn’t this sweet,” Destiny states walking in to join us. She’s coming out of her shell a little at a time but seems braver when Piper is around.
“Want some coffee?” Silas asks her.
“Ew, yuck. No, do we happen to have any Diet Coke?” she asks him, as she looks up underneath her eyelashes. I watch as he melts and jumps to do her bidding. Seems I’m not the only one trying to win over a woman.
I glance at my watch and realize I’ve still got two hours before I meet Raven.
* * *
Raven
* * *
I sigh and roll over when I hear my alarm going off. While Damien and Scooby slept all night, I tossed and turned, wondering what the meeting with Jonas would entail. Hearing a noise, I slip out of bed and head towards Damien’s room.
Through the door, I can hear his giggles and little woofs, before he says, “You need to go outside, Scooby? C’mon, let’s go.”
I step aside as the door opens. “Did he use the puppy pads last night?” I ask Damien, startling him as he walks by me. His attention was solely on the dog and he missed me standing there.
“Momma! Don’t scare me like that. I nearly pissed my pants.” I can’t help it, I die laughing. I hold my stomach because the cramps start to take hold. I’ve never heard anything of that sort leave his mouth before.
“I’m sorry, buddy. I didn’t mean to scare you. Are you okay?”
“My heart is jumping in my chest!” He dramatically places his hand over his heart, and looks at me as if I’m the monster under his bed.
“Let’s get Scooby outside, shall we? What do you want for breakfast?” I ask as I follow them down the hall.
“Can we have pancakes?” he questions with wide, pleading eyes.
“We sure can,” I say to him as we open the back door. He heads outside with Scooby and allows him to do his business. He takes forever finding the perfect spot, letting me know it’s going to be frozen pancakes from a box, instead of homemade. When he goes over to show Scooby where his breakfast is, I pull out the box of silver-dollar sized pancakes and begin microwaving them. I pull out the whip-cream and syrup to make it a little more special for him. I make tiny faces on them with a huge smiley face.
“Momma, you’re so silly,” he laughs when I put his plate in front of him.
“Orange juice or milk?” I question him.
“Milk please,” he responds. He says milk helps him grow strong bones so he can protect me one day. The fact that he says those things to me, lets me know I haven’t done a fantastic job protecting him.
“One glass of milk, sir,” I tell him as I hand him his cup. “Please remember to tip your waitress.” His giggles have me grinning as I straighten the kitchen while he eats, fixing myself a second cup of coffee.
“Aren’t you eating?” he asks, his mouth ringed with whip cream.
“I’m meeting a friend and will eat then, sweetie.” He gives me a quizzical look, because I don’t have many friends that he’s aware of. I haven’t since Sinclair deemed them unworthy of our time.
“Did you sign my permission slip?”
“I did and I put the money for the field trip in an envelope. You be sure to turn that in, okay?” He nods his head in the way only a kid of his age can. It’s dramatic and not to be missed.
“Okay, let’s get Scooby in his crate so we can begin our day,” I say in a sing-song voice that he loves.
“Yes, ma’am,” he sings back. I love the banter, and bonding times, I have with Damien. The fact that my son is my best friend is sad and enthralling. I want to be the one he entrusts with his secrets and wishes.
As we pull up to the drop off line at school, I once again am frustrated with the lack of organization. You have to give yourself at least a twenty-minute head start to make it out and be on time for your day’s events.
Thirty minutes later, I find myself pulling up to what appears to be an abandoned warehouse. Jonas is leaning against a muscle car that is drool worthy. When I hesitantly leave the safety of my vehicle, I reach down into my purse and place my hand on my gun. A girl can never be too safe, that’s how horror movies are made, and I have no plans of becoming a victim of circumstances.
“You made it right on time,” he smiles at me. That smile could be deceiving. It’s either friendly or deadly, with someone like him I have a feeling you’ll never know until it’s too late.
“Yeah, I wasn’t sure I would make it
on time. The line to drop Damien off was long and chaotic this morning. What is this damn place? Your slaughterhouse? Am I going to enter this building, never exit, or be heard from again?” He laughs, but I’m being serious.
“No, this is where we conduct business when we don’t want anyone to overhear us. You’ll be a hundred percent safe once you enter those doors.” Why is it I don’t believe a word that exits his handsome self?
“Don’t laugh, this is a new thing for me. I don’t trust anyone...ever, but I’m trying to give you something that I don’t give freely.” His smile leaves his face and a serious one takes its place.
“I’d never hurt you. You’ve done nothing wrong; I’m trying to help you and your son make it out of this situation unscathed.” The way he says this makes me want to believe him, but still there are so many questions to be asked and answered.
“What situation is that?” Now I’m curious. What does he know that I don’t? I mean, I’ve read the stuff he’s been sending, but it left me more clueless than anything.
“Let’s go inside,” he says, “I’d rather not say anything further until then.” All this intrigue makes me wonder if I’ve fallen into a James Bond film. Locking my car, I follow him to the doors.
“Can you answer me why we can’t speak out here?” This is what gets me the most, why must we go inside the warehouse. I’ve seen Supernatural and know that things are not as they appear.
“Because I have no clue if you’ve been followed or not, and inside there,” he points to the warehouse, “it’s secure and I’ll know if anyone attempts to get close to us or tries to enter the building.”
“Security?” I question.
“Top of the line of security, I’m a security expert, Hot stuff.” Hot stuff? Well, I have to say that’s a new one.
“Lead the way, Security man.” My hand tightens around the handle of my gun.
“You won’t be needing that, and normally I’d take it from you. But I recognize the fact that you need it to feel safe. So I’ll give you this one,” he states, his eyes level on my purse.
How in the hell did he know I had a gun? Is he psychic?
“I do this for a living, just in case you were wondering,” he answers my unspoken question.
Four
Jonas
The look of surprise on her face makes me laugh internally. She has no clue who she’s dealing with now. I’ll love teaching her about every aspect of me. Very intimately, that is.
“I still don’t understand why we couldn’t meet in a public place,” she utters.
“Because I don’t trust that someone won’t overhear our upcoming conversation. We need to keep you as safe as possible.” I’m beginning to feel like a broken record. I’m all about appeasing her fears, but I hate to repeat myself. “You can pull your piece and keep it in your lap if it makes you feel better,” I inform her as we enter the doors and I set the perimeter alarms. I wasn’t kidding when I told her we’d know if anyone made it onto the property.
“That won’t be necessary,” she responds.
“Good, have a seat over there and we’ll get started.” I gesture to the loveseat and chairs over in the corner.
“Should have eaten breakfast,” I hear her mumble.
“I can fix you something while we talk.” We keep the fridge and pantry stocked since we sometimes use this place as a safehouse. Not waiting for her answer, I walk over to the coffee pot and hit the start button then dig out the eggs and bacon. “How do you like your eggs?”
“You cook?” Out of everything I was expecting her to say, that was nowhere on my radar at all.
“Yeah, we either learned how, or starved.” This is something I hope we don’t need to talk about. My childhood wasn’t good, and I don’t like talking about it.
“We?” She starts looking around paranoid.
“My brothers and I. Oldest brother is better at meats, middle brother is better at the grill. I can do it all. Relax, no one will be joining us today. It’s just you and me until I need to bring them into the equation.” I watch as her frame relaxes.
“Shit, there are three of you? Are they as bossy?” I’m not sure if I should be insulted or proud. Bossy? Never thought of myself that way.
“Worse, probably. I’m the calmest of us.” If she wants small talk to calm her nerves, I’m good with that, maybe I’ll learn a little more about what makes her tick.
“I find that hard to believe.” Yeah, she will until she meets Silas and Atticus. Can’t wait to tell her I told her so. I wisely say nothing.
“So, eggs?” I ask.
“Scrambled or sunny side up, I’m fine with either.” Scrambled it is since we’re out of bread for toast.
We have an easy banter flowing, but that time is coming to an end. Breakfast is ready so I plate it up and carry it over to the sitting area. She follows behind me, a few steps between us. “So, what all do you know about your husband's business dealings?” I rip the band-aid off. I’ve found it’s easier to get right to the bottom of things instead of stalling.
“Not much, I tried to stay as far away from him personally and in business as I possibly could,” she states, forking her eggs. That was probably wise, but I don’t say anything.
“Did you read everything I sent you?” I want to make sure she understands the depravity of her husband’s dealings.
“I did. I wish I could say I’m shocked, but honestly, he’s a monster. If he was anything like he was with us in business, I feel bad for anyone who ever crossed him.” Her honesty floors me and my blood boils when I think of what all she and her son may have suffered at his hands.
“Tell me he never put his hands on you or your son, at least.” If she says yes, I’m digging that motherfucker up and dismembering him.
“I can neither confirm nor deny that, I’m not ready to share the intimate details of my life with a complete stranger.” Her reply lets me know that he did. I wonder if there’s some way to resurrect him so I can peel the skin from his body then cut him up. Shaking my head at my thoughts, I mentally vow that she’ll live a good life from here on out. I’ve already started her on that path with the money. “Can we please get down to the dirty details and figure out how we’re going to keep my son safe?” The fact that she’s worried more for her boy than herself lets me know her character.
“You will both be safe,” I declare. “No one will ever hurt either of you again once my brothers and I are done.”
“I appreciate that, but I don’t trust anyone. No offense, but I have to take care of this. I need to solidify that nothing will ever touch a hair on my son’s head.” Her fierceness and protective instincts, are completely, and utterly, turning me on. Instead of clueing her in that my dick has stood at attention, I cover myself with one of the throw pillows that Piper insisted we have. I make a mental note to myself to give her a gift in thanks to her thoughtfulness.
“I can understand and even appreciate that. But I need all the information you can give me to ensure things go the right way.” I know we haven’t entered the trust part of our relationship, but I wish she’d be more open with me. The more I know, the more work I can do to make sure all of the bases are covered.
“You’re acting like we’ve known each other for years and other than our brief meeting yesterday at the store, and what you’ve been sending me. I know nothing about you at all. Can you get that it freaks me out? I’ve lived a life in hell these past years and my one and only goal is to ensure that Damien is safe and protected. Period.”
Without saying a word she’s filled in even more of her life with that douche canoe. Sighing, I say, “I know we don’t know each other, Raven. That’s part of the reason I wanted us to meet. The other part is so that we can ensure that none of his activities blow back on you and your son.” And, of course, I want you, but I wisely don’t mention that fact. Yet.
“So, in those papers, it mentions that I was listed as the CEO of a bunch of umbrella corporations. Companies that I’ve never heard
of before and whoever signed for me did a shitty job.” Well, that tells me she read everything. “How do I change that?”
“It’s already been done. There’s nothing anywhere that shows you as being a party to any of the businesses your husband had.” Yeah, I took care of that shit. Wiped it clean off the map, so to speak.
“And you did this how exactly?” she raises her eyebrows in suspicion.
“Let’s just say computers are and always have been my best friend,” and it’s no lie. I’ve always had a special sort of relationship with data, it became my escape from our abusive asshole of a father.
“May I see what you’ve done? I’m not too shabby with a computer myself.” My dick just went from hard to solid with those words.
“Is that right?” I quirk a single brow in her direction.
“How do you think I’ve always escaped my shitty life?” She places one hand on her hip and pops it out, making me want to grab her with both hands and pull her into me. I shouldn’t be the only one suffering from our rendezvous. Everything about her calls to me, like those mythical sirens that pull a man in and make him forget everything but her.
“I’d like to see what you can do.” And in all honesty, this isn’t an excuse to spend more time with her, it’s that I’d really like to know what she does and doesn’t know when it comes to the land of computers.
“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” Now that’s a loaded statement if I’ve ever heard one.
“Game on, sweet cheeks.” Game motherfucking on! “Maybe,” I clear my clogged-up throat, “we should finish our chat before we begin show and tell.”
“If we must,” she sighs. I begin counting the scores of my favorite ball players to get my mindset off my dick trying to push its way through the teeth of my jeans. These things weren’t this snug this morning when I put them on.
We spend the next hour going over paperwork. She’s extremely intelligent and has questions that I wasn’t expecting. I find myself pulled deeper into all that she is and then have to resist the temptation to check to see if I’ve grown a pussy. I’ve never had this type of reaction to a woman. They’re there to serve a need, a purpose, and relationships have never been my end game. But with her, I can see something that I never thought I’d want—a family, a home.
Seeking Our Forever Page 3
