It’s been so long since I’ve had sex, that it hurts a little. He moves faster and faster which makes the slight sting fade.
Claiming my mouth, he devours me. As he breaks the kiss, he thrusts deeper into me, and it hits the spot. Pleasure ripples through me, and Kyle follows right after me.
Pulling out of me, Kyle’s eyes lock on mine with an intense look. “I knew we would be good together. You’re mine now, Evie.”
∞∞∞
I stare at the modest house with the dilapidated white picket fence, trying to imagine what it would’ve been like growing up here.
I picture a little girl with red pigtails, running around the yard, laughing as her daddy scoops her up and places her on his shoulders. She’s on top of the world.
I finally got some information on my mother. Josephine Bailey. As scared as I am about what else I might learn, I know I’ll always wonder if I don’t go through with this.
Straightening my spine, I walk up the path. I hesitate for a second before I push through my fear and nerves, and I knock on the door.
An elderly lady opens the door, and my first thought is; could she be my grandma?
“Hi.” My voice is shaky from the fear that my parents still won’t want me. “I’m looking for Josephine Bailey.”
The woman furrows her brow as she tries to recall the name.
“The name doesn’t ring a bell. I’ve only lived here four years.” She stabs a thumb in the direction of the neighbor’s house. “If the person you’re looking for lived here before me, then Maggie will know them. Best you go ask her.”
The door closes in my face before I can thank her.
I glance over at the neighboring house. It doesn’t look much better. It’s clear that the neighborhood has fallen on hard times.
I make my way over to Maggie’s house and knock. This time I’m not feeling nervous at all. I feel a sense of dread that I’ll never find my parents.
A woman opens the door, and my eyes widen as I take in her appearance. Her purple hair is full of curlers, and a cigarette is dangling from her bottom lip. It looks like it’s about to drop any second. A thin flannel robe covers her skinny body, and worn slippers are on her feet.
I clear my throat when she raises an eyebrow at me.
“Hi, Maggie,” I say, forcing a smile to my face.
“Do I know you?” she says, her voice gruff from years of smoking. She squints her eyes as she looks at me as if she’s seen me before but can’t quite place where.
“Uhm… no. I’m looking for Josephine Bailey. I was wondering if you knew her?”
Her mouth gapes open, and the cigarette falls to the floor. Slapping her hand over her heart, her eyes grow wide as a saucer.
“Can it be?” With trembling fingers, she grabs the spectacles hanging around her neck and shoves them onto her nose. “As I live and breathe,” she whispers. “I thought he’d thrown you in the river.”
Confused and shocked by her words, I can only stare at her.
She reaches a wrinkly hand out to me, and her touch is unbelieving as she caresses my face.
“My God, you’re the spitting image of Joey,” she breathes.
The next second she grabs hold of my arm and yanks me into the house.
Keeping hold of my arms, she continues to stare at me for a long while.
I swallow hard, and ask the one question I fear most, “Did you know my mom?”
She starts to nod her head as her face fills with sadness, and it makes my heart sink into the floorboards beneath my feet.
“Let’s have some tea.”
I follow her to the kitchen and hardly take in the worn state of everything inside the house. I just want to know what happened to my mom and dad. Even if they died, it would be more than I have now. At least then I’ll know they didn’t leave me by choice and that makes all the difference.
I sit down on a rickety chair and wait for Maggie to finish making the tea.
When she places a cracked cup in front of me, I smile gratefully.
“Thank you. Can you tell me more about my mom?” I ask hopefully.
Maggie lights a cigarette before her tired brown eyes lock on mine.
“It’s a sad story. What happened to those kids, it’s this town’s biggest tragedy.”
I grip my hands together on my lap, steeling myself as best I can for what’s to come.
“What did you say your name was?” Maggie asks as a ball of smoke billows around her head.
“Evie Cole,” I whisper.
Maggie starts to blink rapidly as she gets emotional.
“At least you got your daddy’s last name. That’s good,” she says, nodding to herself.
“Hayden Cole?” I ask to make sure I have the right name.
“Yeah, Hayden Dean Cole and Josephine Bailey. You should know your parents loved each other very much.”
I lick my dry lips, and ask, “What happened to them?”
Maggie takes one last deep drag before she kills the cigarette in an overfull ashtray.
“I’ve got some of Joey’s things. I didn’t have the heart to throw them out.”
As she gets up and shuffles out of the room, I bite my bottom lip as my right leg starts to jump. It doesn’t take Maggie long to come back with a shoebox. Besides the coloring of age, the box is in better shape than anything else I’ve seen in this town.
“Joe Bailey was slapped upside the head by the devil himself. He’s your granddaddy. He had a mean streak, and the drinking only made it worse. Your grandmamma died giving birth to your mamma, just like your mamma died giving birth to you.”
Sorrow for a woman I’ve never known floods my heart. My eyes start to burn, and I fight hard to keep the tears back.
Maggie opens the box, taking a faded photo from it. She hands it to me, and when I see the young couple smiling up at the camera from where they’re sitting at this very table, my sight blurs.
I blink quickly, wanting to take in everything about them. The girl is pretty, and her smile is so broad, it doesn’t look like she has a care in the world. She has the same wild red hair like me. We could’ve been twins. My eyes skip to my dad’s face.
“You got your daddy’s eyes. Every girl in town was crazy for that boy.”
A tear escapes my eye, and I wipe it away with the back of my hand.
“But he loved my mom,” I whisper, carefully caressing my thumb over their faces. This is the closest I’ll ever get to touching them.
“After the funeral, I asked Joe what happened to you. He never answered me. He took the secret to his grave a week after Joey died. Drowned himself in one too many bottles of brandy.”
“How old was my mom when she gave birth to me?” I have so many questions about my parent, but that’s the first one that comes to mind.
“She was eighteen. Joey and Hayden were high school sweethearts. Bobby made an honest woman of your mamma. They got engaged before he left to serve his time for his country.”
Another tear rolls down my cheek, but this time I leave it as I whisper, “Did he die while serving?”
“Hayden was an only child. His mamma,” she pauses to light a cigarette, “your grandmamma died during his senior year. That boy worked his fingers to the bone so he could finish school. He had so much potential. We all thought Hayden and Joey would make it out of this town and have themselves a fairytale life in the city.”
Maggie finishes her tea before she digs into the box again. She takes out a stack of the letters, tied neatly with a pale pink ribbon.
“These were the letters your daddy wrote while he was serving. I couldn’t find any from after your momma died. I tried writing to the address on the back, to give Hayden my condolences, but I never received anything in return.”
“Did he come back here after his tour was up?”
Maggie shrugs, and it makes my heart start to thump in my chest.
“No one knows what happened to Hayden. I assumed he died. He never came back here.”
A tiny seed of hope pushes through my sorrow. “He could still be alive?”
Maggie lets out a huff of air. “Hayden lived for Joey. If he did survive the army, it would be so sad knowing he had to continue living without her.”
Maggie takes a plain silver band from the box.
“This was your mamma’s ring.” With trembling fingers, I take it from Maggie. She leans closer to me. “Put it on. Let’s see if it fits.”
My chest fills to the brim with emotions as I slip the ring onto my left hand. It’s a little too big, so I switch it over to my right hand.
A satisfied smile settles on Maggie's wrinkled face.
“You should wear it. Joey and Hayden would’ve wanted it that way.”
I visit with Maggie for a couple of hours, listening to stories of my parents and their love before I get up to leave.
“Thank you so much for agreeing to see me, and thank you for keeping my mom’s things safe all these years.”
“You’re welcome, Evie.” Her eyes glide over me, and she smiles proudly. “You know, it’s comforting to know that their love survived the tragedy.”
I frown not understanding what she means.
“It’s you, child. You are the living proof of Hayden and Joey’s love. It gives my old heart some peace.”
I hug Maggie and giving her one last smile I walk away richer than when I got here. I have a photo of my parents, the letters from Dad, and Mom’s ring.
But the most important thing is that they never left me.
Chapter 26
RHETT
Getting out of the shower, I throw on a shirt and jeans, along with my boots, before grabbing my car keys and phone.
It’s become a routine to spend my Saturday nights at Senses. It’s an exclusive club where you pay an arm, leg, and kidney to get in. The expensive entrance ticket keeps the trash out.
Driving to the club, my mind returns to Evie for the umpteenth time. I don’t know how to approach her. I’ve thought of everything from just showing up at her apartment, to hiring a fucking band to serenade her. I chuckle at the last idea thinking that might be a bit overkill.
Parking my car, I get out and walk to the entrance. The bouncer, who isn’t much bigger than me, pats me down before I’m allowed to enter. I pay the five-hundred-dollar entrance fee, then walk through to the changing room. I strip out of my clothes, and like always, I keep my boxers on.
I pull the mask onto my face, covering the area around my eyes. The mask doesn’t hide much of your face. It allows people to live the fantasy of fucking a stranger and not having to worry that you’ll recognize them the next week in a meeting.
Some of the people coming here choose to go in butt naked, but most of us keep something on.
Walking into the central dance area, I scan the dimly lit room before making my way over to the huge bar.
“Macallan,” I say to the bartender when he looks at me.
He nods subtly and takes care as he pours two ounces over a single round ice cube in a crystal tumbler.
He gently slides it over to me. “Your charity of choice, Sir?”
The sixty-four-thousand-dollars they charge for the single malt gets donated to a charity of my choice. It’s really a win-win for me.
“Summer’s Forever Foundation,” I say as I hand over my card.
After the fee is charged, I take my whiskey and walk over to one of the many couches they have positioned around the dance floor.
I take a seat and savor my drink while I look at the people dancing.
When I started coming here, I used to get excited. I’d fuck the first girl I laid eyes on. But the excitement is long gone. Now I sit and wait for the girl to come to me. I let her fuck me while I finish my drink, then I leave.
The only reason I still come here is that it’s a safe place to get laid. I have no desire to go from bar to bar, or club to club, hoping to find a woman decent enough to use for a one-night stand.
It’s convenient this way. Both parties know what they’re getting, and it doesn’t include any form of commitment.
My drink is almost finished when a dark-haired woman saunters over to me. I let my eyes glide over her toned body. Lifting my hand, I indicate for her to twirl in a circle for me. With the seductive beat filling the air, I never try to talk to anyone. I don’t come here to make conversation anyway.
The dark-haired beauty turns slowly, displaying all her assets. I’ve had worse so with a lift of my chin, I give her the club sign that I accept her offer.
The corner of her mouth lifts slightly as she closes the distance between us.
Her eyes drop to my boxers, and she lifts an eyebrow. Knowing what she wants, I only shove my boxers down enough to free my cock.
Her tongue darts out and she licks her lips as she takes a condom from the stand next to the couch. That’s another added bonus. The club supplies an endless amount of condoms.
She rips the foil and removing the rubber, she bends at the waist, letting her tits hang right in front of my line of sight, as she rolls the condom onto my cock.
She’s an experienced member. Good. At least the fuck will be worth my time.
Straightening back up, she walks over to the display case and picks a pair of ankle and wrist cuff restraints. When she returns, she offers the back velvet restraints to me. I take them from her and wait for her to turn around until she’s facing the dance floor. I crouch down in front of her and position a cuff around each of her ankles. She bends at the waist, giving me access to her wrists. I secure the cuffs.
Because I’m not a total asshole – yet – I glance up at her and brushing my knuckles over her cheek, I lean forward and press a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth.
Getting up, I place my right hand on the back of her neck. Trailing my fingers down her spine, I walk back to the couch and sit down. With her ass at my eye level, I bring my finger down the crack of her ass.
Circling her clit, I can feel that she’s already wet. At least we won’t need lube. I push a finger inside her pussy and work her slowly.
One of the primary rules of the club is that both parties have to be satisfied. I suppose it’s their way of keeping their clients happy.
With my middle finger working her pussy, I rub my thumb over her ass, every now and then stretching her a bit. She presses her ass into my hand and grinds, and I can feel her pussy gripping me with excitement.
Thank fuck, she likes it dirty like me.
I stand up, and not bothering to shove my boxers any lower, I take hold of my cock and position it at her ass. Moving my right arm around the front of her, I drive two fingers back into her pussy. I force the head of my cock inside her ass, and after the initial resistance, the rest of me slips in with ease. A shudder ripples through her as I pull back a little.
I keep my pace slow at first, but soon I’m pumping into her hard and fast. Needing for her to orgasm, I pinch her clit hard. Her ass shudders against me as she finally comes, and it doesn’t take long for me to follow.
As soon as I’m done, I pull out of her. I grab paper towels from the table containing the condoms and clean myself. I take a second to shove my cock back into my boxers before I help her out of the cuffs.
When she straightens up, there’s a satisfied smile on her face. She mouths the words ‘thank you’ and saunters away from me.
Picking up the tumbler, I take the last sip of whiskey before I place the restraints back in the display case.
That’s me for tonight. I walk back to the changing room, and first, wash my hands a couple of times before I get dressed.
Once I’m back home and taking a quick shower, my thoughts return to Evie, and for the first time, I feel guilty that the woman I fucked isn’t the woman I love.
Chapter 27
EVIE
I’ve been searching for my dad. Finding out what happened to him has become my primary focus.
I contacted the base he was stationed at when I was born, and after a painfully long sea
rch, it looks like I might have found someone who will be able to tell me what happened to my dad.
I’m at MacArthur Park, standing by the lake where we agreed to meet. Glancing at my watch, my stomach tightens with nerves. He’ll be here any second now.
When John Adams first responded to one of the dozens of emails I sent out, I wasn’t very hopeful. He asked some questions about me and then said he’d be in touch.
It took him two weeks to get back to me. He said he wanted to meet in person, that he had answers for some of my questions.
I hope he does. I stare at the water, wondering what answers he has for me. I’ve given up staring at every face passing me by. I should have asked him what he looks like. It was stupid of me not to.
“Evie.” My name is so soft, I almost think I imagined it.
I glance over my shoulder and seeing a man standing a few feet from me, I turn around.
He takes a step back as his eyes widen with shock. It looks like he’s seen a ghost.
“Are you John?” I ask, an anxious smile wavering on my lips.
He shakes his head, and although his lips part, he doesn’t speak for another minute.
“I’m Hayden Cole,” he says, his voice hoarse.
My eyes widen as the name sinks in. My breaths speed up, and no matter how hard I fight to keep control of the emotions barreling through me, tears fill my eyes.
“You’re Hayden Cole? Josephine Bailey’s fiancé?” I ask to make sure.
My eyes flit over him, trying to match him to the young man in the photo. My hand is trembling so badly, I almost drop the photo as I take it from my bag. I look at the face of my father on the photo, then back to the man.
They both have green eyes. My eyes.
They both have dark brown hair.
The photo shows a scar through his left eyebrow.
I look up, and my breath catches when I see the scar.
He takes a shuddering breath, and when the first tear rolls down his cheek, he says, “I was told you didn’t make it. I looked for you. I went to the hospital. I was told my daughter died.”
Shameless (An Enemies To Lovers Novel Book 5) Page 12
