by Lexi Whitlow
My parents are not at the party. They don’t have anything to do with us, and they never will. When I was eight months pregnant I was called to testify in closed session before the U.S. Senate Ethics Committee concerning the relationship between my mother and Robin Abbot. After that, all the embezzling stuff came out too — and I wasn’t around for any of that. But it all got worse.
A full investigation into their dealings revealed that Abbot, when he was a Senate page and just eighteen years old, had been lured into a sexual relationship with my mother. Years later, he used that fact to blackmail her. In order to keep him quiet, she gave him money and even put him to work on her campaign, using him to dig up or create damaging material on her political opponents and their family members. When all this came out, Abbot revealed everything – every sordid, inflammatory detail – and it destroyed my mother’s career as well as her reputation. It also destroyed my parents marriage. They divorced not long after the scandal broke.
Generally I am not one to hold grudges, but in the case of Evelyn and Richard Thomas, I will make an exception.
Life experience has taught me the difference between obligation and love. Today I surround myself with people who love me, and who I love. It’s a much better sort of family than the one I had before, and it’s full of fascinating, complicated people. One of those complicated people is Salvatore, and his closest friend and “accomplice” (as they like to joke). Lucas is rough around the edges with a short temper and boundless ambition. He works hard, plays hard, and drinks hard, and he’s the most loyal S.O.B. on the planet. He’s the kind of friend that everyone needs; the kind that would go to hell and back to protect and defend you, then buy you a beer for the privilege.
Lucas and Maddox started a consulting firm – Trident Security – a few months after Lucas retired from the Marines. It’s taken awhile for them to get on their feet, but now they’re almost too busy, working private, state, and federal contracts, and about to add more people to the staff. Ella works with Maddox and Lucas as a general office manager. She runs the place, keeping the two of them in line and all the tedious paperwork in order. Along with ensuring the bills get paid and payroll gets made, she keeps Lucas from pissing off the clients, and keeps Maddox from pissing off Lucas. She’s got her work cut out for her every single day, but she’s good at her job and she loves it.
Lucas’s brother, Brian just joined Trident to start a new service line in the area of electronic security and surveillance. Maddox says Brian was a contractor for the NSA and did some above-top-secret work with the Marines back in the day. Brian is nothing at all like his brother. He’s a quiet, deliberate, intellectual sort who’s way more comfortable with a computer than a firearm. Adding Brian to the mix looks like a good move to me, as I think his steady personality and shrewdness will bring a valuable new dynamic to the business. I’m no expert on the security consulting business, but I do know that there’s no lack of demand for their work.
Our life, while far from easy, is pretty damn good. Our friends are an odd assortment of working class sages, national heroes, dedicated public servants, and quirky curmudgeons who help us keep our priorities straight. I no longer have access to a bottomless credit line, but I do know how to balance a household budget and keep the oil changed on our two vehicles. I can write a speech for the Senator, while simultaneously kissing and cleaning a boo-boo on a baby’s skinned knee, while also making sure Maddox remembers to kiss me before leaving for work. Most days I don’t have to remind him.
Right now, Maddox is sitting on the floor, legs crossed Indian style, playing patty-cake with our daughter, singing with her. He’s such a good father. He’s really here – present – for us every single day. He pays attention and listens.
Maddox turns and sees me watching them. He smiles. Then he scoops Abby up in his arms and walks with her toward me.
“Kisses for Mama,” he says, leaning in. He kisses me on the lips while Abby presses her tiny palms to my face and smooches my cheek. “Mama is the best,” Maddox says, looking at Abby then back at me. His smile still melts my heart.
Abby grins beaming, sitting tall in her handsome Daddy’s, muscled arms.
“Daddy’s the best,” I say. “And Abby’s the best. And today is just about perfect.”
Life is never perfect, but when it’s this good, the idea of perfection pales by comparison. I wouldn’t trade anyone’s idea of perfection for what I have right here in front of me.
Deleted Scene
How the hell am I making it hard on him? He’s the one who’s treating me like I’m contagious.
When I saw him with that girl in the bar, and saw the way they were looking at each other, it brought everything back. The way he’d kissed me that night so long ago. The way the scruff of his beard felt on my cheek. The way his scent lingered in my head. The girl at the bar wasn’t even that pretty. And she was leering at him like a spider about to pounce on a tasty snack… Good Lord, I wanted to claw both their eyes out.
Maybe it was the alcohol that made me reckless. Maybe it was something else. Whatever it was, it caught Maddox completely off-guard. He saw my reflection in the bar mirror approaching from behind with an expression he’d never seen me wearing before.
I’ve shown him pouty. I’ve shown him stubborn. I’ve shown him freaking out in tears. But Maddox has never seen me really, really mad. I was as angry as a bag of snakes and I was moving fast in his direction.
He swung around and caught me in a bear hug just as I was about to hurtle myself, arms flailing, claws out, at the girl he was chatting up. Despite the fact that he had me in a body hold, I kept fighting him and screaming at that poor girl, who scrambled backward as fast as her five inch heels could carry her.
Maddox was trying to get control of me and checking the bar to make sure no one was Live Streaming my latest tantrum to Facebook, while shouting, “What the hell, Avery? What’s wrong with you? Get a freaking grip.”
I fought him all the way out into the lobby, ranting about the girl at the bar and the way she looked at him. Then ranting about the way looked at her.
Maddox pointed out the obvious, “Good lord, Avery, you’ve had too much to drink.” He shook his head at me like I was an errant child.
I’m standing there, wobbling on bare feet, carrying my heels in my right hand like a weapon, trying to be clever. “Oh and you’re in there drinking Pellegrino?” It was the only thing I could think of. My head was in a blinding rage, and I’m seldom quick with the witty repartee when I’m pissed-off – much less when I’m drunk.
“We’re not talking about me.” Maddox snapped. “I’m taking you upstairs. It’s my night off, and I’m still having to babysit you.”
And then he asked where my security detail was.
He’s always so responsible. Dependable. Predictable. Even three sheets to the wind and he’s all-business. Why can’t he take a risk?
In that second, when he asked about Marc – the guy assigned to provide security for me on Maddox’ night off – all my rage vanished. I screwed up. I just looked to the side, shrugged and confessed. “I gave him the slip between the restaurant and the first bar. He bugged my friends and he bugged me, and I just wanted to have fun, one – last – time, before Evelyn ascends to Empress of the World.”
Maddox scowled at me, then his expression changed to disappointment. He gets preachy when he’s disappointed.
“You’re gonna get yourself killed.” He said. “If you don’t get someone else killed first.”
He grabbed my elbow, turning me in the direction of the elevators. He pushed me forward like he was prodding a willful cow, walking me toward the mirrored doors. Once on the elevator, and reasonably confident that I’d calmed down, I saw the adrenaline rush in his eyes subside and the alcohol buzz start to creep back in. He was still angry though.
“Don’t be mad with me.” I begged him, trying to conjure up a sympathetic tone. “I’ve had too much to drink, but I never do that anymore. You know that. You k
now I always do...”
“Exactly what you’re supposed to do.” Maddox interrupted me, finishing my sentence. He’s heard it all before.
And then he starts guilting me.
“You do do realize that Marc Baker – your detail – is probably going to get fired over this? He lost his principal. First rule of protective service work; don’t lose sight of your principal. He should get fired. But honestly Avery, I doubt he thought you’d be stupid enough to try to ditch him. He’s probably freaking out, thinking you’ve been snatched or something.”
I wasn’t quite that thoughtless. “No. I called him. He knows I’m alright.”
Maddox looked up at the ceiling and heaved in a deep sigh. “You are one complicated pain in the ass, Avery Thomas.”
That was two weeks ago. Tonight I’m sitting on the edge of the tub looking at his last text.
Maddox calls me through the closed bathroom door with a brittle edge in his voice.
It’s the same tone he took two weeks ago – after he slipped the key into my hotel room door and directed me into it – and I hesitated, then reached up and cupped the back of his neck in my palm and pulled him toward me.
He moved my hand away roughly. “You’re drunk, Avery. Stop it.” His tone was edged with tension.
I just stood there, staring at him, still wobbly from too much drink and not enough to eat.
“Avery. Go inside and go to bed. Tomorrow is a big day and it starts early.”
He was a little bleary himself.
“Check my room?” I asked him. That was protocol, after all. I’m accustomed to this song and dance now. I know the rules. That’s how I break them when I want to.
He rolled his eyes at me. “Alright.”
Maddox stepped into the hotel suite and flipped on the lights, leaving me outside in the hallway. I wasn’t supposed to, but I followed him in a few seconds later. He checked the bathroom first, then the bedroom, making sure the balcony doors were locked from the inside. He checked the closet and then the sitting room. He turned around to fetch me from the corridor, but I was already inside, slipping out of my dress. I was on a mission.
“Jesus...”
Maddox dropped his eyes and tried to move around me, headed for the door, but I anticipated him. I slipped my hand around his waist and held on tight from behind. If he’d kept moving he’d have brought me stumbling to my knees. Instead of that, he stopped dead in his tracks. I slipped my other arm around him, over his shoulder and pressed myself close against him, wearing only my bra and panties. My dress was on the floor at his feet.
“Stay with me.” I asked him. “Please.”
I felt his heart pounding underneath my left palm.
He took a deep breath and exhaled, saying, “Avery. We’ve both had too much to drink. This is not...”
I slipped my hand lower, down his belly, pausing at his belt, unbuckling it with just one hand. Then I reached even lower, letting the tips of my fingers find that firmness increasing just under his zipper. I heard his breath catch and felt him stiffen as I stroked him.
“Just one night.” I said. “We’re both curious. I know it. And… It’s your night off.”
It happened fast. Maddox turned and swept me up, and in just a few fumbling seconds, we were entwined together, he was inside me, and we were moving with the rhythm of angry waves crashing on a storm wracked beach. It was nothing like I imagined it would be. It was heated, and furious, and hard, but he made me come so fast, as rough and as thoughtless as it was, it was also good. I came a couple of times – but it took Maddox awhile to get there. When he finally did it was like the tide inside him turned. It was furious, raging. When it was done, he melted into me like a passing hurricane evaporates on the horizon, leaving only glassy seas and a pile of debris in its wake.
~~~
For more from Lexi Whitlow, check out the bonus content ahead!
Excerpt from The Baby Pact
Macon - Ten Years Ago
“Macon Sands, you are too much,” she says. She kisses me again, and something deep inside of me stirs.
I want her, need her. Love her. Maybe that’s the right word — but we’re eighteen. I shouldn’t say it, not yet.
Her chestnut hair glistens in the sun. We slipped away to the beach after our senior year dance, and we slept on the beach, fooling around on a blanket I’d kept in the back of my beat-up Honda Civic for the past year, hoping that Eliza would finally run away with me — even if just for a night.
I pull her close to me by the waist and move my hand up her skirt. Her panties and bra came off hours ago, in the middle of the night when we were still slightly drunk from the Schnapps she stole from her parents’ liquor cabinet.
It’s a funny thing — having a liquor cabinet. The house, if you can call it that, where I live, is just filled with liquor bottles. The whole damn thing is a liquor cabinet. But I didn’t mention that to Eliza. Instead, I tasted the minty, burning alcohol and pretended I knew what it was.
Her skin is warm against my touch, and I feel my cock stirring again.
We’ve done everything we could think of, everything except for that last, final thing.
When my hand travels higher, I find her wetness, and she spreads her legs reflexively. I groan, almost dizzy from desire. I’ve spent the last four years wondering what she would feel like, imagining it, staying up late looking at the school photo she let me had.
Her sex feels sweeter — tastes sweeter — than anything I’d ever thought could be possible. And I need her today, if she’ll have me.
We’re leaving for school in six months, and if she’s on a college campus, she’ll find some other guy, someone more deserving.
I do what my brother told me to do — I let her guide me. Her hand lifts her dress and finds mine, pushing my fingers in further.
“Don’t stop,” she moans, biting her lip. “Just like that, baby. Put your thumb right there — oh!”
She bucks against my hand, lifting her hips, begging for more.
“God,” I say, inching closer to her so I can feel more of her body against mine, “you feel so damn good.”
Her hips are still bucking against my hand, and one strap of her pink dress falls away, exposing a perfectly round breast. I put my mouth to it and dance my tongue across her nipple. She cries out — and as best I can tell, she comes again.
My cock is now at full mast, straining against my cheap slacks.
“Eliza,” I moan against her skin. She smells tropical and musky and like roses — everything good all at once.
Her hips finally stop moving, and her fingers tangle in my hair. “Macon,” she whispers. “Do you have — a — you know…a condom?”
I gulp. I hadn’t thought it would get this far. “No. I don’t. We could wait,” I say through gritted teeth. My cock stiffens even more, though I would have thought that wasn’t a possibility.
“I don’t want to wait,” she says. A stiff breeze catches her hair.
It’s stupid. It’s reckless.
But we’re alone on this beach, waves crashing against the shore just yards away from us.
“Are you sure?”
She nods, her cheeks flushing. Who would have thought that the smartest girl in school would go for a guy like me. Sure, I know a little bit about math — and a fuck load more about computers, when it comes down to it. But she’s gorgeous and smart, and her family is way better off than mine. I’m like the street urchin kid in all those Dickens books she likes.
I think that kid eventually gets the girl, but I didn’t pay attention to that shit. I was too busy looking at Eliza.
“Yeah,” she says, biting her lip. She pulls me into her and kisses me, tongue glancing against mine.
She guides my body into hers, unbuttoning my pants in haste. I lift her skirt and lay her back against the blanket.
“You’re all I ever wanted,” I say.
I don’t say the word love because that’s silly. It almost isn’t enough to describe h
ow I feel.
It’s quick and endless at the same time, and it all takes place in flashes that I won’t entirely recall for the next ten years.
But the feeling will remain with me.
Her legs, wrapped around my hips, the feeling of her like a hot vise, her breathy voice, begging me not to stop.
I let myself go, for perhaps the first time in my life.
“I love you, Macon,” she whispers.
But still, I don’t say it back.
I spend every moment in college and in the following years when I make my first billion dollars — wishing that I had.
But it seemed so innocent then, so new.
We spent the next weeks doing it anywhere we could get a chance — with protection, every time after that. The whole love word never came up again, and I didn’t push it. I felt like it all might fall apart if I did.
But it fell apart for a different reason entirely.
It only takes once — and by prom, Eliza’s belly had started to swell.
There was a baby, and where there’s a baby, there’s no end to the trouble they can create.
I wish now that I’d told her how much I loved her, that I’d do anything to help her, to make her mine.
A pact. A promise. Anything.
But I didn’t.
And everything was lost. For a good goddamn long time.
Graduation Night
“You’re an irresponsible little shit,” my mother says. “And you are leaving this town until college starts. You’re supposed to be the one making money for us — making this family into something a little better than it was, and you’re a piece of shit just like your father is. You know that?”
My mother lights a cigarette, and in one fluid movement, also picks up her Coors Light and takes a long swig. She’s on a roll.
