by E. C. Land
“Now, what is this shit I’ve missed that Kenyon is complaining to me about?” I demand changing the subject from my wife.
Kenyon and Marc go on to report what all has been going on besides the spotting of Kean and Jewel. There’s nothing else we can do at this point. Right now, where they’re concerned, we wait for them to attempt to make their move. Kenyon reports the headache of being in my shoes and that my job is definitely not one he wants to do. Marc adds this topic about how the strippers are getting far more ballsy now that Bridget isn’t here as much.
Sasha seems to be speaking out against what the rules are, but until we have proof of this, we can’t fire her without her causing a shitshow.
By the time we finish and adjourn, we’ve decided a staff meeting is due and that the man in charge of the meeting will be Dean with me on his right, Bridget on his left, and Kenyon and Marc on either side of Bridget and myself.
The strippers who worked here when Bridget first came learned quickly to get on board with what she demanded or they were out. She’d changed things up a lot around here and it seems it’s time for them all to have a refresher. Or at least for the ones who are new, it’ll all be ingrained into them.
Excusing myself from everyone, I head to my car. I have a wife to get home to and I don’t want to wait in doing so.
Chapter Fourteen
Alison
Over the past week, Mitch and I seemed to have fallen into a routine. One I’m not certain I like so much. Mostly because it’s as if he is doing his best to spend time with me even if still seeming closed off with me and not really talking to me.
In fact, he seems to be acting as if I were spun fragile glass that could break at a mere instant. This I truly hate, especially with the way he’s been super busy and barely touching me. I’m not a big fan of him changing like this. The only thing he’s given me is chaste kisses and squeezes at the sides. Mitch has also taken my body under his a couple more times but those weren’t even the same as the first time. These more or less are him finding release.
I wonder if his change has to do with me not giving him what he needs. The thought of him possibly only putting a mask on for the first bit of time we were together to make me trust him and once he found out about what happened to me, he’s changed his mind. Though he seemed sincere about this not being the case before we even left the beach.
God knows I wish we could simply go back there. At least then it would be just the two of us.
I love my sister, but I’ve not been around her in two years and barely spoken with her more than a call once or twice a month. I need to acclimate myself to my new surroundings. I don’t want to do this with my sister holding my hand. I’d love to have Mitch helping me, but all the same, I’m finding my way. I started today actually volunteering at an elementary school helping assist teachers with their classes.
After speaking to the principal, who also spoke with her superintendent, they’d approved me coming as many times as I could during the week to help out. I told them I had nothing else to do so I’d love to be here throughout the whole week.
My first day had been amazing. Except for one of the teachers I worked with. Miss Marshall. She’d been snooty toward me the entire time I’d been helping her. But one of the boys in her class caught my attention and my heart skipped a beat at the sight of him. He looked so much like Mitch with his dark hair and even darker eyes, even has the same strong jaw.
I found out his name is Mathias and that he’s sweet and somewhat timid. I can sense the fear in him as it’s matched my own on several occasions.
After school ended today, Ian drove me home. I still had several hours, like hours as in right before midnight or whatever, before Mitch got home. I knew I’d be eating by myself and not enjoying dinner with him. It’s not fair but I’m coming to terms this is my life. In this life it’s how it is. I guess with my sister having lucked out in getting a man such as Dean, it caused me to hope I’d have the same thing.
And I thought I did for the first two weeks of Mitch and I being married and away from everyone else.
Pulling into the driveway, Ian doesn’t get out of the car like he normally does. Instead, he sits there and watches as I go in.
Weird.
The first time I’d tried to go in before him, he’d told me to wait for him to check the house first.
Upon stepping into the house, I find the reason as to why he doesn’t come in. My husband is standing in view, flipping through a stack of mail I’d kept putting in one place for him to sort through when he had a chance.
As the door closes behind me, Mitch finally looks up at me with his grin I haven’t seen all week. “Mo stór,” he murmurs in greeting and sets the mail down on the table.
“Um, hi,” I whisper, unsure of myself. I mean, how can I be sure of myself when I’ve barely seen him and when I do, he’s not been the same man. It’s as if he has split personalities.
“How was your first day?” he asks, turning to face me fully and crosses his arms over his chest as he takes me in.
“Good, I suppose,” I utter and finally step further into the house, putting my purse on the coat rack while slipping my flats off my feet. I’m not one for heels, though I’ll wear them when needed, I’ll stick to my flats.
Instead of giving him my attention again, I walk in the opposite direction of where he’s standing in the opening to the living room. I head through the dining area and go into the kitchen. I don’t have to see him to know he’s following me.
“You didn’t tell me you were starting at the school,” he announces as I open the refrigerator and pull out the meat I’d intended to cook for dinner tonight. Granted, I didn’t really feel like cooking. I refuse to use any of Mitch’s money on fruitless things such as going out to eat, especially when it’s just me doing it.
“How can I tell you something when I don’t see you?” I mutter, annoyed by the fact he’d say this to me. He should know this since he’s barely been around. When he is, it’s a quick kiss, a squeeze to the side, and he’s taking what he needs from my body. This also isn’t a good feeling.
“There’s no reason for the snarkiness, mo stór,” he states firmly, and I look up to see him staring at me while leaning against the frame of the doorway leading into the kitchen.
“I’m not being snarky as you say, I’m simply speaking the truth.” I shrug and turn to go back to what I’d been doing.
I barely put the package of meat on the counter when I find myself spun around and ass lifted up on the counter with Mitch standing between my legs. Hands on my hips, my husband pulls me to the edge so we’re touching. This doesn’t seem like a good idea considering I’m wearing a pretty dress with a cardigan over my arms.
“You want to try that again,” Mitch demands.
“No, I already said it once,” I mutter without meeting his eyes.
“Look at me, Alison.” When I do, he continues, “You can tell me what’s going on and why you didn’t tell me about starting at the school today, or I’ll find other ways to get the truth from you.”
Ugh
Did he seriously just say that?
“Why do you care?” I ask, feeling somewhat brazen at this moment.
“Because you’re my fuckin’ wife and this was cause for celebration.”
Are you kidding me?
“I don’t see it that way. Besides, for me to tell you anything, I actually have to see you for that to happen. Or better yet for you to spend time with me,” I ramble frustratedly.
Mitch draws back a smidge and takes in my whole face, he must see whatever it is he wanted to see because his grin I love turns into a huge smile. “You miss me being home with you, mo stór?” he mutters in question.
I keep my mouth firmly shut, refusing to answer him, because in all honesty, yes, I did miss him. I miss his sweet banter that he’d have with me.
“Alison, mo stór, you have, and I will fill you in on something. I have missed you as well. I hate I’ve bare
ly been home with you this past week.” My heart begins to beat rapidly in my chest.
“You missed me?” I ask, blinking in astonishment.
“Yes, baby, I have,” he murmurs, leaning forward and pressing his lips against mine.
I open to him, granting him entrance. God knows I’m unable to say no to this man. Not because I don’t want it, because I do more than anything. But rather, I’m upset with him and want to hold a grudge. Which I normally can hold a mean grudge, I am a MacDermott after all. I just don’t do it very often since I’m not usually around people.
Mitch deepens our kiss and holy mother of everything holy. I cry into his mouth as he rips my panties from my waist. Yes, literally rips my panties from my body. I then find myself impaled on his shaft while he holds me up with the counter behind us.
The entire time he keeps his mouth against mine. Taking my mouth in a demanding way at the same time claiming my body with his.
With his thrusting movements, I’m tipping over the edge. He doesn’t relent in his paces and draws another one out of me before finding his own, groaning against my mouth.
Only when he’s spent does he finally release his mouth from mine and press his forehead against my own. “Fuckin’ own me, mo stór. Fuckin’ own my heart and soul. I’m sorry about this past week,” he rasps roughly.
Oh my. I didn’t see that coming.
I, um, I . . . Do you mean it?” I stammer breathlessly.
“Yes, Alison, I do mean it. No other words tell the truth about what I feel for you. You fuckin’ hold all of me,” he growls and presses a gentle kiss to my lips.
“I feel the same way. It’s why . . . It’s why I didn’t like not being around you this past week. I don’t like the distance that was between us,” I confess.
“I’ll be sure to not do that again, mo stór. Now, how about I order us something to eat for dinner and we celebrate you starting at the school,” he suggests withdrawing from inside me.
“It’s only volunteer work,” I mumble, trying to regain strength in my weakened knees.
“Doesn’t matter if it’s volunteer work or paid work. You’re doing something for yourself and for those kids at the school,” he announces.
My heart beats rapidly at his announcement, and I knew right then and there my heart belonged solely to this man. It didn’t matter who he’s had in it before me. Nor did any of the questions that swarmed within my mind this past week I’d wanted answers to.
Whatever it was in this moment in time I’m his and he’s mine. That’s all that counts.
Chapter Fifteen
Mitch
Sitting with Alison on the couch after consuming Chinese food, something she’s never had before, I hold her to me as she tells me about her first day at the school.
Earlier today, I’d had some sense knocked into me when Bridget came storming into my office with Dean standing behind her. She’d been upset with tears in her eyes. I thought this might have been her emotions going haywire like they did when she’d been carrying Liam.
“Why are you being so mean to my sister?” she demands.
Blinking, I let her question sink in and turn my attention from her to Dean. He shakes his head once and smirks.
Fuck me.
Turning my attention back to Bridget, I answer her with a question. “How am I being mean to your sister? Is this what she’s telling you?”
I refuse to discuss my marriage with Alison’s sister; however, I know I’ve been avoiding being home much when she’s been awake and have only taken her two other times since the beach. Those times were more quick fuck sessions. I’ve also not been very affectionate toward her either.
Some of this has to do with the fact she’s Alison, and I need to explain some things to her that will possibly hurt her, such as Michelle. She deserves to know but it’s hard to explain where she can understand. Shit, it’s hard for me to somewhat understand myself.
“No, she hasn’t said anything, nor has she seen me this entire week. She’s barely spoken to me, claiming she needs to get herself acclimated to her new life here and adjust to her new routine. It’s all BS and I know it. She’s avoiding me and I miss my sister. I’ve not seen her in two years and now that she’s here I’m still not seeing her, and this is your fault. You’re here and always working rather than helping her,” Bridget yells.
“My fault?” I ask, furrowing my brow.
“Yes, your fault. You know she started at the school today. She wouldn’t even let me celebrate with her. Said it was nothing to celebrate. It wasn’t a big deal and that she didn’t want to do anything.”
Fuck.
I knew she’d been looking into it according to Ian’s reports, but I’d not heard anything else about it.
I’ll need to rectify this shit it seems.
“Why are you doing this to her, Mitch? Are you keeping your distance because of your past or because you don’t want to be with her? If that’s the case, then let her come live with us.” I glance from Bridget to Dean, fury raising within my blood at her statement. Dean senses this and intervenes with his wife.
“Bridget, I’ve allowed you to come in here and rant like you do, but you just crossed a line, mo chuisle,” Dean states firmly.
“How is it crossing a line when it is my sister we’re talking about?” she demands, turning her furious glare toward him.
“Because, mo chuisle, it isn’t your business. It’s Mitch and Alison’s. I know you’re concerned, but you don’t get to question these things. Not when it comes to their private life. That is between them, as ours is between the two of us. Now go get Liam from my office and get ready for me to take you home,” Dean commands firmly.
I’ve rarely seen him speak to her this way but sometimes, due to her dramatic personality, he has to.
Bridget shoots a glare in my direction before storming out of my office.
“Mitch, as your best friend, brother-in-law, and boss, I’m advising you to fix whatever the fuck is going on,” Dean declares and goes to follow his wife.
Sitting back in my chair, I let out a heavy breath and thought of the woman’s words. First, I didn’t know today was Alison’s first day at the school she’d wanted to work at. Second, I’ve been a complete ass toward her this week by ignoring her and this is something she doesn’t deserve. I don’t want to be this man. Not when it comes to Alison. I’m simply trying to do whatever I can to fuckin’ find Kean and Jewel before something happens to my wife.
Deciding to rectify things, I finish up with what I’m working on and head home. I’d been home only five minutes before she’d walked in the door. Surprise showing all over her face at seeing me going through the pile of mail she’d stacked for me.
My mind goes from that to fuckin’ her against the counter to this point where we are now with her relaxing in my arms telling me about the teachers she worked with today and how one of them had been extremely snooty toward her.
“You know there’s a boy in her class that reminds me so much of you,” she says nonchalantly.
“What?” I ask, tensing at her comment.
“There’s a boy in Miss Marshall’s fifth-grade class, and he looks so much like you. Same hair and eyes,” she states, not sensing the anger starting to show itself.
“You’re not suggesting this kid could be mine because I sure as fuck don’t have any,” I growl. “I’ve always made sure that shit didn’t happen with women I’ve fucked in the past.” I don’t miss Alison flinch, but right now, I don’t give a fuck. “I’m not ever having kids. Had one once and that shit went to hell. Didn’t even get to hold the kid or see him before I put him and his mother in their graves,” I snarl, coming to my feet.
Unable to stand it any longer, I shake my head. “I’ll be back later. But don’t ever bring up even the thought of having a kid with me or of one looking like me,” I snarl and head for the door without looking back.
I know what I said is harsh and right now, I don’t give a fuck. Getting in my car, I
peel out of the driveway and down the road, speeding through the streets, not worrying about a damn thing. I don’t know where I’m going but it seems my body does as it takes me through the gates of the cemetery and to the section Michelle and our son are buried.
I get out of the car, still leaving it running, and walk over to their graves. I don’t speak or even look to Michelle’s headstone. I’ve come to peace with her not being the one for me. I did this during the two weeks of being alone with Alison down in Frisco for our honeymoon. I learned my wife is nothing like I thought she would be and had been made for me.
It’s a jerk move what I did to her leaving the way I did, but it guts me to think of my son and her mentioning that child triggered something inside me.
Squatting down in front of my son’s tiny headstone, I brush my fingers over it as thoughts wash over me. How I never got to hold my son. Not even once. Thoughts of how I’d held Liam for the first time and that I should have been able to do this even if it were once while I said goodbye to him in death.
A thought comes to mind and I pull out my phone. Unlocking the screen, I find the number of the one person I’m sure can help me find the answers I need.
I put the phone to my ear after hitting send and wait for him to answer.
“This better be good. We just got the baby down for a nap and you know what that means,” Gadget growls when he answers. He and his brother share an ol’ lady who just had their fourth kid about two months ago.
“Wouldn’t call you if it weren’t important,” I mutter, not taking my eyes off my son’s name.
“What is it?” he demands.
“Need you to do something for me. Ten years ago, a pregnant woman was shot during a robbery. She died at the hospital and so did the baby. Need you to look into this further for me,” I state.
“Wanna explain to me why?” I knew this would be asked.
“Woman had been my wife; kid is my son. I want to know if I’ve been lied to and my son is still alive,” I say and go on to tell him about the boy who she claimed was the spitting image of myself.
