Kid

by Korry Smith

  “I’m here.” Alex leaned down and placed a soft kiss on my shoulder. “Don’t move.”

  “Okay.”

  The bed jostled, and I watched him walk into the bathroom through my half-opened eyelids. He came back out a second later, holding a washcloth in his hand. Sitting on the edge, he put the damp cloth to my skin and wiped me clean. Afterward, Alex wadded the rag in his fist and threw it across the room. He lied back down beside me and threw his legs over mine. I felt cocooned by him. It was fucking wonderful.

  "Hey," he said, rubbing his hand up and down my back.

  I yawned. "Hey."

  "Tell me the truth." His eyes turned intense and searched mine. "How far did that fucker take things with you?"

  It confused me for a moment. Alex had changed gears so quickly, and to be honest, I hadn't thought of that man since I neutered his ass. Alex had a way of consuming me, so it wasn't all that surprising. Once I was on the same page with him, I knew exactly why he was asking. The idea of some guy violating me pained him, but I think it was more about someone else touching his girl. Alex was possessive to the end, and he liked knowing he was the only man that's ever been with me.

  He planned to keep it that way.

  "All he's ever touched on me was that jumpsuit," I said, nodding over towards the orange pile by the door.

  He still didn't like it, his brows pulled together, and jaw tightened. "That's all? Nothing more happened?"

  "Nothing happened.” I turned over on my side and palmed his face.

  It was the truth, but a vague one. Arden didn't go as far as Alex was asking, but he did touch me in ways no guard should ever feel their prisoner. Alex didn't need to know the specifics.

  It would ruin this perfect moment.

  That asshole got what he deserved in the end.

  I brought him back to my mouth, wanting to taste his beautiful, sweet lips. “I promise."

  "Good," he said, relieved. "Because all of this is mine.” He trailed his nose along my chin and down to my neck. Kissing it at first, he bit down and sucked on the skin, bringing blood to the surface. He pulled away and peered up at me, smug as fuck. "You got me?"

  There wasn't a doubt in my mind that everything he touched belonged to him, and I was no exception.

  Alex leaned in and kissed me again, but he wasn't satisfied with a little nibble here or a tender peck there. He was making up for lost time, set and decided to put his mouth and hands on every inch of my body. Nothing was off limits to him. My guy had no boundaries. He didn't follow the law and made up his own rules. I was the one who got him to break with his morals. My wants and happiness were his only priority.

  Except for right now, he was declaring selfishness.

  I tried to remind him of the ticking clock and our imperfect time, but he wouldn't hear of it.

  "Two more minutes," he said, moving from my neck and down to my breasts.

  I lifted my head to watch him as he kissed me, and sucked, creating deeper purple clusters along my flushed skin. He gazed up, eyes locking with mine, and took my right nipple into his mouth, biting and flicking it with his tongue. My head dropped back, and I let out a soft gasp.

  Whatever fight I had left in me was gone.

  All I could do was lie there and try to control my breathing. It wasn't easy. Ragged and shallow, my body tensed and surrendered to Alex's touch. He put a firm hand on my stomach, keeping me in place as he rocked his hips into me.

  Oh, fuck, he was hard again.

  Was he trying to kill me?

  "Baby…"

  Sensing my protest, he shifted up in the bed and silenced me with a harsh and persuasive kiss. It took a lot of will for me to pull away from him.

  "Alex," I panted, "we can't..."

  "Why can't we?" He had my bottom lip between his teeth, and it was a quick form of distraction. A tool to steer my focus away from his wandering hand, edging lower and lower down my body, his fingers ghosting over my legs.

  My breathing was uncontrolled, becoming more and more labored, intolerable even. "Because…" I closed my eyes and tried to think of a reason, "…we're wanted, and there are cops out there..."

  "Fuck the cops!" He pushed my thighs apart and plunged two of his fingers inside me.

  My moan muffled by his mouth, firm lips, and a forceful tongue. He pushed into me as deep as he could go, touching every ridge and corner, and curled them upwards. He slid in and out, fast, and hard. The pace was frenetic, and the pleasure was maddening. I grasped onto his shoulders and rode his hand, massaging myself against his palm, needing that extra friction.

  And when he buried his face in my neck, whispering low and gruff, how much he fucking loved me and needed me to come, I shuddered and saturated his fingers.

  "I want to see it," he demanded.

  Completely lost to him, I'm overwhelmed with a rush of sensations in my pussy. I clamped my shaky thighs around Alex's arm to keep him there. He finger-fucked me harder and ignited another quivering wave. My breathing ceasing, I arched my back off the bed and clung to him as it exploded out of me.

  “Fuck, Oh, my God…yes!” I whimpered loudly, and quickly bit my lip to quiet my cries. Releasing my death grip on his shoulders, I came down and fell back into the mattress.

  "So fucking beautiful.” Alex kissed my neck and gently stroked out the tingles.

  His love and adoration always had a way of turning me into an emotional basket-case, add in the mind-blowing orgasms, and I was nothing but a weeping, incoherent mess. The prickly annoyance was reaching the corner of my eyes, and it was only a matter of seconds before it flooded out of me. I flipped over to my side and buried my face into Alex's chest, forcing the tears to stay behind my tightly closed lids.

  It was my voice that betrayed me. "I love you."

  "Love you, baby." He held me tight, crushing our bodies together, entangling his legs with mine.

  I listened to his heartbeat, loud and thundering. So soothing and hypnotic to my ears, the day's weight rolled away and my body began to drift. This moment was perfect. An odd period of calm in our chaotic lives and neither of us bothered to move, afraid the littlest thing would disrupt it, but fate had other ideas.

  A shrill ringing and dull buzzing of a phone, barely audible and muffled by layers upon layers of cloth, brought reality to the forefront. My eyes went wide, and blood ran cold. It was the warning call. The one we dreaded.

  We had a decent forty minutes to ourselves, away from a life that promised incarceration, but now that shit was over.

  "Fuck," Alex said, and we both sprang out of bed like the sheets were on fire.

  He was fumbling with the crumpled jumpsuits, digging through the pockets, and pulling out his phone. It was new, a touch screen, and he jabbed at it with his finger before getting it to work.

  Pressing it to his ear, he went to the window and parted the curtains, taking a furtive glance out. "Yeah?"

  I was on my knees, ripping open the duffel bag and putting on my street clothes. Nothing matched. My bra and panties were a lost cause, and I was wearing one of Alex's t-shirts. It didn't matter to me, not in the least. I had only seconds to dress and be ready.

  "Sawyer?" Alex said, letting out a heavy sigh. "Jesus, I told you not to call me on this phone."

  It wasn't Len. There were no sirens. No cops surrounded us. We were safe. I let myself fall back on my hands as my heart slowly got back into a steady rhythm. A laugh, one of relief, escaped my lips and I shook my head.

  Will we ever learn to stop pushing our luck?

  "I don't—I told you…Well, are you fucking bleeding out of your chest?" Alex sat down in the chair. "Then why are you fucking calling me?"

  I handed him his black boxer briefs and a pair of jeans. He put them on and rolled his eyes as he listened to Sawyer ramble on and on.

  "Wait, what? Say that again. Are you checking up on me? What are you, my fucking wife?"

  My fingers stilled on my shoelaces, the mere mention of the word wife on Alex's lips struc
k a feeling in me, an intense craving. It was something that I wanted more than anything but would never admit that shit out loud. There was a time, pretend or not, that I was his wife. I had a ring to prove it, but the fucking assholes in Saint Louis took it away from me. They stored it as evidence, but I would’ve preferred that it went back to the owner, that sweet, old, and fucking crazy lady in Iowa.

  Alex's quick intervention got her to the hospital in time, and she was alive and well, and very talkative. After everything we put her through, robbing her store and pistol-whipping her, she was still telling people what a lovely and attractive couple we were.

  "We're fine, Sawyer. Why don't you worry about yourself and how you're going to get across the border, all right?" He nodded, taking in whatever wise advice given and dismissing it. "Yeah, I got it. You better not fucking call me on this line again." Pressing a button to end it, the screen froze and that set him off. He slammed the phone face down on the table and cracked the plexiglass. "What a fucking hassle.”

  Slouching down in the chair, he groaned with frustration and leaned his head against the wall. I watched as he anxiously ran his hands through hair that he no longer had.

  "I bet you regret shaving it now."

  "Yeah," he said with a weak smile. "I didn't handle my time well."

  Rising to my knees, I shuffled across the room towards him and wedged my body in between his legs. I peered up at him. "Is it later?"

  "I don't know what to tell you.” He leaned forward and gazed at my hands that were resting on his thighs. My bruised and swollen knuckles were in his direct line of sight, and I tried to snatch them away, but it was too late. "What the fuck happened to you?"

  I rose up from my squat. “It’s nothing.”

  "Bullshit!" He grabbed my waist and yanked me down into his lap to inspect my battle wounds more thoroughly. "Jesus, baby," he murmured, placing a soft kiss on each knuckle. He looked back up, his eyes brimming with pride. "Who did you clock?"

  I smiled, suddenly feeling bashful under his loving gaze, as blood rose to the surface of my skin, heating up my face and neck. "It was some bitch in holding that was going off at the mouth." Life without him was dark. "I didn't handle my time very well, either."

  Alex draped his arms around me and rested his forehead on my shoulder. "I fucking lost it."

  Those days spent apart were far worse for him. He told me that the first night coming off the coke made him edgy and paranoid. The feds were taunting him about me in hopes to get him to crack and confess to the crimes. It was the same tactic Garrett used on me, but these were nasty comments, laced with sexual innuendos. Alex being his possessive and hot-tempered self when it came to me, exploded into a mass of violence, and took it out on each one of those agents’ faces.

  "I just wanted them to shut the fuck up." He had my shirt twisted and bunched in his fists.

  The butchering of his hair occurred two days before the FBI transferred us to Phoenix. They removed his restraints, and for a minute, all seemed calm. Alex was taken down to the showers for wash up so that he could change into the orange jumpsuit. On the way out, my old man caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, sparking recognition of his father, and asked an agent to buzz it for him. The guy refused, and Alex attacked, nearly killing the man. Alex managed to shave it all off before anyone could reach him.

  By the end of his stay there, he'd put four feds in the hospital with minor injuries, and one was in a coma. The charges against him multiplied and stacked, and there was no hope for him gaining leniency from the courts with his violent behaviors. The judge labeled him as unpredictable and dangerous, and releasing him to the outside world was unsafe.

  Life in a federal prison was his future.

  Or so they thought.

  "I would have been more than happy going away for the both of us. I even proposed death, if that is what they wanted, and all I asked in return was for those assholes in suits to grant you full clemency. I signed a confession," Alex said, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "Everything was set."

  Shocked and horrified by his admission, I pushed away from him. "Why would you do that?"

  "Because," he grasped my wrists, tightly keeping me restrained in his lap, "I was trying to give you back your fucking life! I couldn't just sit there and let you rot in jail." He shook his head and squeezed me. "No, fuck that! I would rather fucking die than let that happen to you."

  "I never asked you to sacrifice yourself for me!" I twisted my arms and pulled them back, trying in vain to free myself from his firm hold.

  "You don't have to ask!" He tightened his grip and jerked me close. "Jesus, why are you mad at me? It's not like any of this shit fucking matters now."

  "I'm not mad at you," I said, keeping my voice calm on the outside, but on the inside, I was screaming at the top of my lungs.

  "You're lying."

  "No, I'm not."

  "I just watched you fucking come all over my fingers."

  I bit my lip and smothered a groan.

  The asshole smirked and pulled my frustration away from my teeth. "You don't think I know every curve and facet of your face?"

  "Okay, fine, Alex. You're right! But I'm not just mad; I am fucking furious with you."

  He shrugged, avoiding my intense and heated gaze. "I did what I had to do."

  "Yeah, and it was fucking stupid."

  He snapped his head back and glared. "How is keeping your ass out of jail stupid?"

  "You were supposed to keep your God damn mouth shut, remember? That was what we agreed on, and what do you fucking do? You trade in your life for mine and offer up a confession?"

  "It was a lapse in judgment. I thought those fuckers would keep their word."

  I laughed, but it wasn't funny. It was unbelievable. "Yeah, well, guess what? They didn't, all right? They took your confession and used it against me. You helped them build their whole fucking case."

  "Yeah, I know,” Alex said with a pained face, his eyebrows bunched and gathered inward. "When I found out they were going to lock you up and throw away the key…" He shot his eyes up to mine. "I had to do something to get you."

  Alex would die for my freedom, no questions asked, and I would've done the same for him. It was hard to understand my hypocritical anger, but the thought of him gone from this earth scared the shit out of me. I couldn't live six fucking days without him, but even in those darkest hours, I knew he was out there breathing, somewhere safe and alive. That hope kept me sane and functioning. Then he tells me that he was planning to take that all away? He was going to commit fucking suicide? How do I cope with that?

  I slumped into his chest and breathed him in so deep. "I fucking hate you.”

  He wrapped his arms around me in a tight hug and rocked us back and forth. "I fucking hate you too."

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  "Marcos called," Len said as Alex and I descended the stairs.

  Our hour of alone time officially over and it was back to business.

  "Oh, yeah?" Alex replied, half-interested, throwing the duffel bag into the trunk.

  My guy was looking like his old self again with his leather jacket and faded jeans. He pulled the hoodie over his head, highlighting his strong jaw and facial piercings.

  It was as if last week never happened.

  "He's going to be at the airport in thirty minutes," Len said. “That’s about ten miles from here.”

  My relaxed posture stiffened. "We're flying?"

  "How else did you think we were going to get across the border?" Alex tilted his head to the side, reading my panicked expression. "Wait…are you afraid to fly?"

  "No, not really, per se," I said, a nervous lump rising in my throat. "I just saw the movie Alive once and it..."

  He narrowed his eyes, confused. "Alive?"

  "You know," I said, gesturing with my hands, and emulating a plane. "That one movie where they crash into the Argentina Mountains and end up eating each other."

  Len leaned against the hood o
f the car. "Sounds like a righteous porn."

  "It's not porn, okay?" I rolled my eyes. "Ethan Hawke was in it."

  Len blinked. "Who?"

  "Ethan Hawke?" I said, and he continued to stare at me like I was speaking Chinese. "He played in Reality Bites, Gattaca, Daybreakers…" Still nothing. I sighed. "Training Day?"

  Recognition, finally, his eyes lit up, and he snapped his fingers. "He's that skinny dude who was patrollin' with Denzel, right? Man, that movie was badass."

  Alex was rubbing his mouth, trying not to laugh. "You watch too many damn movies, kid."

  "Yeah, well, anyway. That's why flying freaks me out." I put my arms around his waist and gazed up at him, pure sincerity in my voice. "I don't want to be forced into eating you."

  Len snickered; his mind forever in the gutter.

  "Nothing like that is going to happen, okay?" Alex kissed the top of my head to appease my worries. "Besides, people tend not to survive plane crashes."

  "What?" I glared and jabbed him in the stomach. "You can't say that kind of shit to me."

  "Aww, come here." He laughed, reaching out for my shirt. "I was fucking with you."

  "No, no, it's fine," I said, brushing him off and taking a large step back, edging further away from his grasp. "You can go ahead and fly on your death plane. I'll walk."

  He cocked a skeptic’s eyebrow. "All the way to Mexico City?"

  "Sure, why not?" I walked backward with my hands raised for protection, but he was still close enough to grab me.

  Len had gone inside to return the hotel key and left us alone.

  Not a smart idea.

  "That's over two thousand miles, kid. It would take you a month to fucking get there," he said, eyes darkening, a sly smile curling on his lips. "And who knows, by the time you do get there, I might be shacked-up with the local cuisine."

  I scowled. "You better be talking about opening a fucking restaurant, Ryan."

  Because Lord knows, if he were talking about another woman, she wouldn't be alive long after I got there.

  "Baby." He stopped advancing and scratched the scruff along his jaw. “Don't make me force you into the car."